#i swear i like lucifer but its so easy to make his life hell

[cherubispunk]

CHERUB (PART III) - Dealer!Joel Miller x AFAB!Reader

summary: the devil has a funny habit of making you want your own suffering.

a note from Lucy: Well, this is it folks. The third and final instalment of the unholy trinity that is cherub. The fic that i had no idea would get this amount of traction. The fic that gave me my username, blog theme, the majority of my mutuals and the freedom to explore more taboo areas of writing that I never felt comfortable with doing before. I just wanted to thank you all for all the kind words you’ve shared with me. Comments, reblogs, messages, they all mean the utter world. But i also want to specifically thank @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin who was such a huge help for motivation when wrting each of these. She's been there since the first day of cherub and always let me obsess over dealer!joel with her. Ange, i love you baby. Out of all my fandom experiences, this has definitely been one of the best. I know this sounds a lot like a goodbye completely, but it's not i swear! I just never really knew where this was going, but I think this is a pretty good way to end the series and I hope you agree too. Part of me isn't ready to let go after such a short run, but I honestly have no idea where to go from here so I think I did it as much justice as I could. Regardless, Cherub and Dealer!Joel will forever have a place in my heart all thanks to you lovely lot! Your love means the world to me and you are all so easy to share this with, you've given me an environment to flourish creatively and I'm eternally grateful for that. I wish you all the love, hugs, kisses, and angel wishes in the world! 

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wc: 5548 Warnings: 18+ MDNI! DARK CONTENT! Unedited for now, no outbreak, no use of y/n but joel calls the reader ‘Cherub’, plot? what plot? we all know we're here for the porn anyway, bombastic age gap (reader is in her early 20’s and Joel is in his late 50s), gore imagry, religious imagry, Smut, very dubcon in theory but both want it bad, grafic smut, P in V sex (unprotected — pleaseee don’t do tis irl i beg of you), teasing, sort of edging? (idk what to call it but he doesnt fuck you until you beg for it lol). nipple play, biting biting biting!!!!!, references to domestic violence, use of pet names, manipulative! joel, stupid stupid cherub, stockholm syndrome, oral (f receiving), cum eating, pussy slapping, Joel being foul mouthed, cursing, dirty talk, overstimulation. Again, some of the most animalistic, disgustingly wretched and vile vile vile porn I have written thus far…with so little plot that this earned me my place in hell, i have my own circle now. Big Dick Joel Miller comes as his own warning.

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The danger didn't lie in his hands. It didn't sit in his closed first to be suffocated. Choked out until the life of it was compressed. Until its face was blue, then purple and its eyes were bloodshot and streaked with red. The danger lay in your heart. And it thrived off the beating.

What is ‘it’, you ask? Mania.

The Greeks had it nailed down when they split love seven different ways. To the crucifix through its punctured and bleeding palms. All equal, but different. They understood that one love is different to the other. That love can be either obsession, or lingering in the quiet parts of a person's mind. You cannot hold up a mirror to one and deceive into believing it is another. No matter how sweet the lie seeps into the ear. They don't work that way. You were not Lucifer, you had no forked tongue. And your mania wasn't Eve. There was no apple to devour. Only the strong arm of Joel Miller to cling to like a noose.

Some love passionately. Find it in the scathing friction of flesh upon flesh. The heat two bodies make only in sex. You were no body anymore. Merely a corpse for him to dig up and breathe life into whenever he needed relief. So it was not Eros. Some love playfully. In the back and forth of a conversation that makes the mind and heart float in the clouds among the soul. Entwine them together until you are too sedated to know the difference between the three pillars of personal holy trinity. There was nothing lighthearted about Joel Miller. So there was no Ludus. Affection. The subtle, it-is-there-even-when-it-is-not weight of lovers hand in lovers hand. Joel clutched your throat with his heavy hand. He didn't lace your fingers in his like tapestry threads. And he was anything but friendly. So it could never be Philia. He was not unconditional. Familial. Constant. Committed. Long lasting. Selfless. He crept in through the backdoor and took. Then slipped back out. So the thick blood red line was drawn through Storge. Agape. Pragma. The love you had was not for yourself. Without him you hated yourself. Hated how you didn’t feel needed. Or wanted. So Philautia was buried six feet under hot earth, the final nail in the coffin that was lowered into the rotting, thick-with-decaying-mulch, stenching ground. By none other than Mania.

This was something you came to realise as you stumbled from his truck back to your room. His come dribbling down your leg. Luke asleep on the sofa. Months passed of the same thing. He’d take you home from work, only letting you go once he'd had his fill. Played out the sick fantasy from mind to matter, let it bleed through his fingers into fruition. You let it happen for mania. It was the thing inside you that kept you going. Before you thought mania fed off your heartbeat. But now you realised mania fed your heartbeat. The kick it got every second fired the next muted pulse. That's what kept it alive. Energy for energy. You were never one to bite the hand that feeds. That’s a sinner's duty.

—

The usual sight of Luke slumped in his lazy boy, guzzling beer was what you expected. The liquor once again swigged past his lips and dribbling down his stubbled chin. Wiry greying hair greasy on his head, balding. Thinning. Residue from a line on the coffee table. You were never tempted by it before. And you were determined never be a Angel dust statistic like him.

Instead, you opened the flimsy door of your trailer to see him hunched over a small collapsible table. His hand running over his sunken eyes, dragging purple eye bags down with his fingertips in shame. Cards in his other. It had your breath catching in your throat like a hare in a wire snare trap. This time around the small collapsible round table. Cards in his hand. And two other men shared a knowing glance and a grim smile of satisfaction. Him.

Joel Miller.

The tension was thicker than molasses in the room. You only wished it was as sweet. You swallowed it down thickly. It stretched your throat. You watched in morbid fascination when he lay his hand on the table in a fan for all to horror at, a sly smirk slithering over his lips and curling the one corner of it up like a scorpion's tail.

“Full house.”

“Fuck!” And Luke’s hand slapped the tabletop as he folded.

The door clicked. All three looked up to see you. Luke, Joel, and the man who held a familiar resemblance to your own personal devil. With eyes on you, you felt more like that hare in the snare than ever. Clapping eyes on the hungry wolf as mutton dripped bloody from his sneer. Cruel and hungry. You imagined him as that wolf, hyde thick and bristled under your soft fingers as he led you to some deep, dark, thorny place. A place only lit by the eyes of owls who observed while he had his way with you. Ripped your stockings to get to sweet fruit.

“Great, the cunt is home.” Luke spat to the room but you, looking over the table again as he bit his thumb nervously to the edge of the hangnail. “Get me a beer.” Your nostrils flared in defiance at his demand, knuckles pale as fingers furled into a fist. An army of goosebumps had stood to attention all along your arms and the back of your neck. A shiver shattering down your spine. Your heart had enough of its prison of your ribcage in your anger, ramming into it over and over in a frantic hammering. And when that wasn't enough, you felt it in your throat. Among the tightening of your airways. “You hear me girl?” He asked, looking at you. He stood, chair scraping against the floor and you staggered back to the point your shoulderblades hit the door. While he was a thin, wiry man, he had a vicious backhand that stung. Like a vengeful aftertaste. “Y’need me to beat some sense inta ya girl, huh?!” You dared to spare a glance at Joel who was too busy collecting his winnings. You soon to be among them.

“Sorry.” You mumbled, looking to the floor and cowering off to the kitchen to get him his beer.

“Y’short, Luke.” You heard from the doorway, straining to hear the tail end of the conversation. Something about your uncle having it by monday. And then Joel telling him he shouldn’t raise a bet he doesn't have the dough to cover.

It took a second to catch your breath. Tears strung in your eyes and your chest threatened to split in two. Your sternum felt like it was cracking down the middle into clean halves under the weight of your chest. A hand clasped over your quivering lips to bite back a horrible sob and muffle it. Only your palm could know you were crying miserably. So you took a beer from the fridge, heard the hiss as the lid gave way and popped off. It clattered to the linoleum and you bared your teeth at the grating sound, picking it up and tossing it in the bin.

“Here.” You mumbled, placing it unceremoniously on the table in front of Luke.

“Y’got any spare cash on you, girl?” Luke asked, beady eyes staring you down as he raised the bottle to his lips and took a drink. You grimaced inwardly at the sight of his yellow teeth when he made a satisfied sigh.

“No.”

Joel’s brow raised. You should know by now not to lie to a man who can read you like a book. That's the thing about narcissists. They have a way of being able to understand you like a one word sentence on paper. A quick glance and you’re unravelling with concealed meaning and connotation.

“C’mon, Cherub…gotta have something from workin’ this late in that diner of yours…” You dared to challenge Joel with a look. A look that retreated soon after the advance of the glare of his eye. The same glare of the hungry wolf. Of the cheated man. It was unkind, and unyielding, and did not hold mercy upon the souls of the enthralled, the damned, or the harrowed. You might try to cross through the sentence, or turn the page. Or shut the book entirely. But the truth is still the truth even when you chose not to look. This was the man that knew your mind. Knew your body. And coaxed his will out of you each time. His word was all it took to cave, so you took the folded bills from your apron, flicking through them with a bitten back scowl,

“How much does he owe you?” Joel smiled with amusement, counting through his winnings to see what was short.

“Ninety-eight.”

‘What?” you asked, eyes wide, hurt. Disheartened. Fingers stilling halfway through the small stack. And Joel smirked.

“You heard me, Cherub.”

“Give Joel his money.” Luke warned.

“But it’s not his money! And it’s not yours to give!” You tried, and saw the warning tick of your uncle's narrow jaw. It was always set on edge before he threw a hand. Cast a palm across your cheek in a brandishing. It had you cowering. Relenting. Tossing the money in front of him. If it fell to the floor in its flurry he could pick it up and grovel about it. But Joel never grovelled. Only relished. Then reminded Luke of the money he still owed for the drugs.

And you walked back to the kitchen, biting into your lip again. With the devil and your demon in the next room over, you were sure this could be hell. A buzz filled your ears. Like the constant thrum of flies over roadkill. In festering flesh wounds where broken white of bone poked through gaping, bleeding holes. Blood matted in the hyde of the animal helpless and scattered across the road. A leg here, smashed teeth there. You were the roadkill. Joel was at the wheel of that which mowed you down. Luke was howling in the passenger side.

His boots thumped clumsily over the linoleum and he let out a huff through his nose while he adjusted his low slung jeans in the doorway.

“Cherub?” He asked, clearing his throat huskily — a consequence of the smokes he used religiously. You stood with your back to him, palms flat to the countertop and head hung low to fight the sting of tears simmering from within.

“He threatened to hit me.” You whispered, not turning to face him. If you mattered his ears would strain to meet you halfway. “And you did nothing.”

“Come on, Cherub…don't be like that.” he sighed, and you imagined him pinching the bridge of his hooked nose.

“He took my money. You took my money. How am I gonna get out of here without it?” You croaked, your tired eyes seeing faces of gaping mouths and slate black eyes in the speckled linoleum of the counter.

No reply came from the door. And when you turned it was empty. He had left. The other man had left. The tv was on again with the scream of a woman murdered. And Luke fell asleep in his lazy boy.

—

Another day, another shift. And more horror ensued. At first, what set the nerves thrumming was there was no sign of Luke. His truck was gone from its spot. No drunk slumped on the worn leather settee. No scream or grotesque image on the TV. Merely an empty bottle on the coffee table.

You swallowed, shutting the door cautiously with a muffled click of the latch. You didn't dare call his name. Just pushed it down into your stomach for it to churn the thought up in acid. But the horror jumped back up your throat into a lurid scream at the sight of your mattress tossed to the side. The moth bitten pillowcase on the floor, void of money. Your money. Gone. Someone had rifled through your belongings. Turned your only space into a mess. Strewn clothes, bed sheets, pillows in their haste. All your work. All the nights of living off bitter coffee from the pot at work, scrounging together tips. It made you seethe. The heat was an inferno at your fingertips, nails embedding crescents into your palms. You searched all over for it. But to no avail.

When Uncle Luke came home, he smelled of hard liquor. It was a miracle – or curse – he hadn't wrapped his car around a tree. He gloated, and sneered, and shoved it down your throat in his intoxication that he’d found it under the mattress. Joel had called him, told him you planned on leaving. And he connected the dots. Ransacked your room. Oh, how the man would hate his loose lips when you gave him hellfire.

You expected Luke’s reaction. You knew if he were to ever find out he’d snatch it up in his greedy, grimy hands and take it for himself. He spent all of it. Paid his debt to Joel, gambled some on bad luck bets, drank with the rest. Slugged liquor down his throat and got drunk off your labour. And then left you on your floor with tear stained cheeks and a heart of heavy lead.

You wanted your money. But would you take from the man who gave you your everything? Your sense of being. A religion and faith. You believed in nothing more than the way he held your name between his teeth. You forgot what your real name felt like in the same place. And it occurred to you that he had never said it. Did he know it? You weren't them anymore. You were Cherub.

The sweet and mourning lamb in you wanted to go over just to be his again, and not carry out the plan of taking back what was yours. That which he would see as sin. You felt guilt claw up your throat at the thought alone. It seemed blasphemous to conspire against him. Why do you insist on protecting yourself. You who was the sacrificial lamb?

If you did go – and you let him have you again – you were whole. But at what cost? Could you stand another night of temporary hell under the guise of heaven. Of touch so cold, like ivory or black ice. To have him thumb your skin with blunt endearments and the croon of ‘cherub’ past his chapped lips. Definite like black and white. No escape. What he’d do and how. Whispering them in the stone deaf shells of your ears like they were a sculpture. Pygmalion’s Bride. He’d made you all you were today. Took chisel to marble and carved out his masterpiece. Cherub.

You were soft, and pliable. Wax heated by his flame. You kissed back. You moaned for him. Begged him for his release and not your own. Bruised with his handprint. The warmth of life under flesh. But without him…you returned to marble. Another pretty thing to be gawked at. He tempted you with it because he knew more than anyone, more than god himself who watches these exchanges, that you can't live without him. It was like telling a child not to slip off to the woods in the dead of night. That was a pointless warning. You knew what lay there anyway, what threat it would be. That wolf in his thick bristled hyde. Curled up in his den. You would see it as innocence and vulnerability if you weren't so scared. But you knew when he woke up the teeth would shine again. And they’d tear flesh. Let blood. Gnash bone. Dripping from the glaring white once he finished with your carcass. Your matter between them and your crimson lacing his gums. Who knew being eaten alive could be so pleasurable.

But then again, how could bering alone really be hell if the devil wasn't there?

There is mania in your body. But you can't get it out. It rattles in your head and lungs and glues to the backs of your gnashers. No matter how much you wish to spit it out. It infects your tongue. It welds itself to the matter of your bones. Melts into the cracks between your teeth. Claggy against your tongue. All to show the sweetest of words have the bitterest of tastes. You can feel it swell underneath your skin. In the gap between muscles where it festers and heats you up. Like fever it burns, like the fire that consumes and the pillars that hold the temple up crack, the ground shakes, and the beast rears its ugly head at you. You’re losing your body to him. It's a fight you try to win. You dare to. You give your all, tooth and nail each time in the gaps between. In the silence and hollow that nestles in the middle of the meetings. In the quiet, where no one is around but the cracked plaster of your room. You stopped caring who fired the gun first. You were always the one who got shot down in the end. Right in the stomach. Blood gurgling up your throat in a grotesque plea for help.

All these weeks you had shrunk yourself to the size of a bird in his hands, sang a sweet sweet song of his name, until the squeeze of his first closest off your throat. And the sound stopped altogether. Laid there after the warning. Patient while you had your wings clipped and your freedom taken. And he took more. Took the beating of your heart with his teeth. Took the will to want. The will to love. The will to need anything else, as well as the need to have better. Below you were the foundations. Only now you saw them for what they were, a decaying mess of fragments, the stench of wood rot hot in your nose. A musk like no other. His musk. So in your anger you took an axe to a willow to see how it would weep. You slipped past the sleeping drunk you call Uncle Luke. Out the door, over gravel, past the truck he coaxed you to without the need of a sweet treat. You’d yank the axe from the bark of the weeping willow, its sob echoing in the wind that rustled its drapery of lush green leaves. Leaves that will wilt as sap bleeds from its severed trunk. Take the axe to the wolf. Cut him. Scrotum to throat.

Take back what was yours. And leave those woods skipping.

—

Your knocks descend upon his door in quick raps until he opened it with a grumble. Then a smirk. “Evenin’, Cherub.”

No salvation. No going back. No space among the clouds. Just the fall. You pushed past him into his front room. “Where is it?’ You hissed, tossing the cushions of the couch up. Nothing there. So you left them on the floor and did the same for the airchair. Nothing there either.

“Woah, calm down, girl!’ Joel huffed, reaching for your arm, which you tugged back from him in a new found strength surging you forward, out of his arms. “Where’s what?”

“My damn money, Miller!” You bit back with venom laced spit. A hunger for revenge making you salivate like a bad dog.

“The fuck you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I'm talking about, dickhead!” And he recoiled at your bared teeth, your verbal assault and battery, but went in for his own.

“Watch your damn foul language, girl!” He warned, reaching the end of his already short tether.

“You know how much he stole from me? Three hundred dollars of my hard earned chash. Forget my fucking ticket out of this shithole, I ain’t even paying rent now! And for what? Your god awful drugs!” His nostrils flared, and you watched the vein in his neck bulge under the sweltering heat of his own anger. Coiling inside him. Wounded bitch about to bite back.

“You didn’t have much of a probelm with my drugs after I fucked that pretty little hole of yours. All dumb and needy f’me, Cherub.” You grimaced at the sneer. But the feeling made your knees buckle. The name again. Cherub. You were Cherub. His cherub. “You want ya money back, huh? You can have it.”

That made you stutter. Thoughts skidding to halt at the sight of a brick wall. Crumpled matter as it smashed into it anyway. “What?”

“I ain't giving it to you for free though.”

“You're sick! It’s my fucking money!”

“Not in the eyes of the law its not.” And he folded his great oaks of arms over his chest in satisfaction. Once again one upping you.

“The eyes of the law? Says the fucking drug dealer. I bet you got way worse than coke in duffel over there. Wonder what the law would say about that?” It was said dismissively over your shoulder as you turned to leave. Alas, once again his large hand encompassed your wrist and squeezed. Pulled you back flush to his broad chest. His breath was hot on your neck as he whispered sweetly into your ear.

“Come on now, Cherub. You wouldn't do me in like that would ya? Not when I love ya…”

The way he said it…it didn't seem real. It was false. Comforting but not real. You knew it was a lie. This wasn't love. He didnt love. If he loved you he'd ask for your number then call you. Take you out. Let you cry on his shoulder and drive you home after. Kiss you in the dark for only the walls to see. Let you stay a night or two, or a whole damn week. Give you your damn money back. Stand up to Luke with a closed fist to the face. Leave swelling and a deep bruise on his cheekbone as a first and final warning.

“You love me?” You asked, voice small and hollow in your chest.

“Yeah, Cherub. I love you too.” He cooed, as if he knew you loved him already. All this and nose running over the curve of the side of your neck, tongue trailing hot in pursuit, it had you keeling over in confession at his feet. “You’re so cute when you're angry. Come on now, lemme make those tears go away…and you can have your money back, and we can forget this ever happened.” That tone…it was patronising. It made the sense in you rattle the cage of your ribs. Claw at the bars of bone and run into them like a caged animal. Because that’s what it was. A caged animal. But your heart was holding its hand over its mouth in a trance as it let his words ebb deeper. Somewhere between desperate and divine. But what was his motive?

God, Jesus, all above that is holy, you didn't care! After all this time, it was still no secret, or hushed uttering that Joel Miller was now everywhere in you. Scraping the backs of your teeth, festering like a virus in your bloodstream. Melding to the marrow of your bones. The walls of your cunt.

He still had a devastating habit of seeping through the cracks of your closed lids. Still ready to pillage and plunder his way through your head in its numbed state of sleep. When you could have finally— finally stopped and not felt. But he ebbs deeper. Always would. Always will.

It's what got you here. It would end you if it could. Snuff out your heartbeat and the fire inside of you. All he need do was lick his fingers and press them to the wick. And leave the smoke to string out and curl. You thought you were hungry for love before. But now you realised you were just hungry for the sight of your blood on his lips. The gnashing of you between his teeth. The curl you made of his brow. If it wasn’t devastating, reaping its agony in your silly little fractured chest— you didn’t dare need, nor crave it. You came for the pleasure but you stayed for the pain. And he took again, and again.

So you let him ‘make it up to you’. Let him claw at your clothes until they were scraps on the floor. Tore your stockings. Showed you those gleaming teeth. The wolf. And you, his sacrificial lamb. His Cherub.

“Feel that?’ He asked, with the slow drag back and forth of him inside you, parting you. This wasn’t fast, or rough. This was slow. And it made you need more. Need it faster. Need him hurtling you towards the edge of harrowing oblivion. He knew that. It’s why he took his time with it this time around. “Yeah. You do.” Joel answered for you. You never had to answer. But often he made you say it from your own quivering lips. Just to have the taste of the words from your tongue bleed into his. The neverending praise. “Why would you wanna leave that Cherub?” You couldn't answer, only let out a soft sob. “Huh? Answer me, Cherub. Why’d you wanna fuckin’ leave that?” And he punctuated it with pulling out to the bulbous head of his clock, then slamming back in with one sharp thrust. And then he was still.

You whined a shallow gasp into his mouth. But he didn’t kiss you. Joel never kissed you. His teeth sinking into your bottom lip shut you right up before his tongue delved deeper into it. The thumb of the hand that slithered between your legs rolled over your clit, making you mewl over the buzz of electricity causing you to clamp down on his thick, full cock. You were so eager for more. Anything more than what he was giving you. He smirked into your mouth when he felt your hips buck forward, trying your damn hardest to push his cock deeper into you. Silly little cherub. You should know better than to defy God. “See? Felt good didn’t it?” You nodded as much as you could in your current piston.

“Mhm.”

“See what you can have if you stay. Why fight it cherub?”

“Yes, Joel.”

“You gonna listen then, Cherub?”

“Yes. Yes! I’ll listen, just-” You shuddered at the thought of it, tears brimming at the the threshold of your eye. ”Please.”

“Say it.” He waited, wanting you to beg for it in the pretty way he knew you could. The choir voice. The songbirds hymn. The whole time his eyes did nothing but stare you down hungry at the sight of you falling apart from nothing but a hand to your throat and a single his throbbing dick buried in your aching cunt. It all pooled down into your centre, creating a rush your head had trouble keeping up with. “Tell me why you wanted to leave.”

“I dunno-” You stuttered, once again rolling your hips up. His hand at your throat pressed into your skin again, harder. It choked you. It had you drawing in a sharp, meagre breath. And he pulled out, running the underside of himself through the hot, drooling seam of your cunt. You shivered when the tip brushed up to your clit momentarily. The bead of precome at his slit smearing into your sex, mixing with your slick. “I dunno, Joel. I- I just wanted my money. I just wanted out. I hate it.” You babbled through closed eyes, chest heaving with sobs, and hot tears ran thick down your flushed cheeks.

“You hate it, huh?” He mocked and crooned, still catching your clit with the tip of his cock, hips waxing and waning in a slow roll. “You hate me too?” He knew the answer. But again, it was the satisfaction of knowing you were wrapped around his finger. Ready to bend over backwards for him. Him seeping into you through the cracks of your ribs, the gaps between your teeth. The opening of yourself to the twisting knot of denial within you. Your back arched like the lofty roof of a chapel, legs parting like its heavy doors. He followed you with hunger. You opened your mouth to speak but he squeezed momentarily on your throat again, oxygen starvation and the smell of him dizzying you. He relished in the whimper that he garnered from you. That and how he left you breathless just from his cruel touch.

“No.” You garbled as his thumb unhinged your jaw. Saliva in your mouth pooling while his thumb pressed your tongue down, bitter with a smokers telltale tobacco staining. It slipped past your lips, dribbled down his digits making a sticky mess at the curve of his thick wrist. He drew up a glob of saliva in his throat, watching as it drooled thickly, gluttonously, past his lips into your waiting mouth. He watched as you gagged on it, and then he let your jaw go so you could close your mouth. You swallowed eagerly, savouring the taste on your tongue. For what did it matter anymore? One day, you’ll be nothing but dust. Bronchioles in lungs will mimic roots. Navels will copy trunks. Organs will feed worms. Ribs will fossilise and lips that are kissed will mould back to Mother Nature. It's all you have ever been. Quick. Convenient. Easy to please, eager to help. Waiting lips, wanting cunt. Warm, never warm enough. But he kept you like a butterfly in a glass jar. He let you see freedom but never experience it. Why need it when you had the stretch of him inside you. The feeling of him, heat to heat with your sex.

“You want this, cherub? Wanna be stuffed full of me again?”

“Always wanted it, Joel.” You mumbled into his mouth, sniffing back the last this spurt of tears, hypnotised. His hand wrapped around his cock, the large splay of his palm did nothing to dwarf its size with he jacked himself once, twice, three times to the sight of you. He squeezed the base with hiss, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth after cursing under his bated breath. He was thick, flushed, the tip swollen and leaking, drooling greedily with a rivulet of precum down the underside of his length. He trod a path with his hands down to your breasts, kneading each one between his palms with a pinch before guiding himself back into the mouth of your heat, your cunt swallowing him down to the base. The needy roll of your hips into his showed just how desperate you were. He groaned at the start of the friction between you, and slowly dragged back out of you, moving just as slowly back inside. He repeated this twice, and then he let loose. The motion turned into a needy clash of his hips to yours. Again. Again. Again. Somewhere along the sting of passion and heat, his hand wrapped around your throat, feeling the flex of it as you swallowed under his palm. He bit down into your neck, reaching out from you as his hips slammed erratically. His heavy balls slapping against your ass with each rut forward of his unrelenting. The way he fucked you, was like holding a knife to your throat. It grounded you in the most harrowing way to each of his breaths. His panting in your ear. It swallowed you whole. Mad your legs wrap around his waist and your hips keen up into him.

Your cunt drooled down his shaft, down to the base, down the sensitive skin of his cock. He growled and hissed in your ear, teeth closing around your earlobe, his hand dragging back up and grip tightening around your neck. Getting off on the feeling of your pulse under his thumb.

You felt the knot tighten. And tighten. Right in the pit of your stomach, deep in your sopping wet cunt where the mouth of your cervix met his fucking. The walls of your cunt sucking him back in as the angle of his hips snapped up into the spot that had you seeing entire constellations. They darted to and fro across your vision. It blurred the edge, spots of dark matter, deep black, the colour of oblivion slinging over the back of your eyes that now burned with tears of pleasure. His fingers dug deeper into malleable flesh, gripped tightly at your hip with his free hand, thumb brushing over your hip bone down your mound to toy with your clit after a slap to it. And it was the action that sent you spiralling, babbling his name nonsensically among a string of curse words. So pretty and fucked out beneath him. Joel couldn’t help but stare smugly as your eyes rolled back into your head when your orgasm hit like a freight train. He came undone soon after, his climax hitting a crescendo with a growl bitten into your shoulder, bruising and brandishing you with his mark again.

He pulled back, leaving you to the mercy of the cold. Watching was his hips moved again to fuck his release back into you. Your hole quivered in protest, and you squirmed under him. “Don’t be fucking ungreatful now, Cherub.” You relented, going still and boneless on the mattress. Limbs unfurling from their tension. “That's it. Take it. Take it all.” He groaned smoothly. Just like the roll of his hips. He fucked it slowly back into you. And you took his release inside you to keep. “Good girl, Cherub.” He whispered, kissing your lips in a tender dichotomy. Not letting you rest until he was satisfied you took every drop of him. Afterall, it was all you’d have left of him until he next chose to pick you up. All the while, he trailed his tongue back down to your breasts, pressing the flat of it to your nipple, drawing it with a sharp suck into his mouth. Pressing the blunt of his teeth into your flesh. Letting the taste melt on his tongue. Salty with your sweat. He did the same to the others. When he went soft inside of you, and his hips stilled. He slipped out of you with hitched breath, the pad of his fingertips tracing your abused, used sex. Your legs twitching when he rolled your clit under two fingers. “I said stop squirming.” He grunted, landing another slap to your pussy. It made an obscene wet sound. His come dribbling out slowly.

“Open your mouth.” Joel commanded, and you did. Waiting for whatever he had planned. He licked a hot strip from your asshole to your cunt, pressing his tongue in to drag out some of his release. And he climbed back up to spit it into your mouth. A hand clamping down on your jaw. “Don’t swallow. Close your mouth.” And you did with the side of his thumb clamping it shut for you. “Taste that?” You nodded in response. It was hot, heavy and thick and salty to taste. Divine. “Show me.” You opened again, his creamy spend diluted amongst your saliva and he smirked. Clamping your jaw shut again. “Swallow.”

Joel watched in open mouthed amusement as the delicate column of your throat rippled under muscle contract. “Good girl, Cherub. Remember that taste next time y’feel like leaving again.” He warned in a growl. And you nodded, swallowing your pride. Your fear. Your mania aiding in shoving it down your throat to dissolve in acid. Once again you were in those deep dark woods. The one where the wolf lay. Remnants of you in his teeth. The willow is still weeping, slashed in half. The axe free of his bloodshed by the entrance of his den. The owls' eyes still lit the scene of sin where overhead the starlight was snuffed out by the tangle of branches thick in their black greenery.

You never got your money back. Maybe one day you'd get out of this town. But the devil has a funny habit of making you want your own suffering. Even angels can’t resist a slice of that heaven. Fallen angel. Wounded bitch. Cherub.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel miller x #the last of us #the last of us fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #tlou hbo #the last of us hbo #joel tlou #lu’s little bookshelf #joel the last of us #tlou #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal #dealer!joel #joel x reader #tlou fic #the last of us fanfiction #joel x reader smut #joel miller tlou

[potol0ver]

Horror with the Bros

Mc is into ARGs/horror and make the brothers sit down and watch their favorite series with them.

Very self indulgent because I love ARGs and scare myself more than I should- I finished this at 3 am and all while I was watching Vita Carnas again and I swear I’m not gonna sleep until it’s light out fml-

I apologize if some of the brothers sections are shorter than the others-

TW; none (?), mentions of jump scares of existing ARGs and stuff alike, nothing horribly detailed,

Lucifer

He doesn’t see why you’d like this. Why would you intentionally scare yourself?

He’d respect the art behind the well developed jump scares and how they’re able to get under someone’s skin.

If you make him watch something like the Mandela Catalog he’d be unnerved by how they use religion as a plot point.

Possibly the only type of horror to truly un nerve him.

You and Lucifer were snuggling down in his bed after you practically dragged him to watch an ARG with you, of course that’s after days of begging him to indulge in watching horror with you.

“I don’t get why you like this stuff…” he scoffs quietly as you set up your computer to watch the Mandela catalog, snuggling yourself into his side.

With a roll in your eyes you hit play on the first episode. He’d hum lowly at the imagery of the uncanny and disfigured human imagery, he won’t lie, that shit is unnerving. Once he realized this had a religion undying to it, he scoffs and gives you a look of “oh really?”.

Why would this be scary to me? I know the truth, hell I was an Angel. I won’t be scared.

Once the cartoons played he started to doubt that thought of his, and once the Angel appeared and spoke in its weird way, you could feel a chill go down his spine. Now it’s your turn to look at him smugly.

“Oh?”

“Shut up.”

Mammon

Good luck dude-

He will NOT make it easy for you

You’d have to puppy dog eye him, make a deal with him about money/getting him out of trouble, lights on constantly, and snuggles throughout.

Take it easy on him please

“You’re lucky I love ya human…” Mammons say’s already under a big pile of blankets in a fully lit room.

“Of course Mams, thank you for doing your ‘First Man’ duty and watch this with me.” You say with an amused smile. For the sake of him you decide to not do something horribly realistic in terms of art and go with the Walten Files.

His eyes widen seeing the first distorted face, and next thing you now he’s clinging onto you like a terrified child.

“You ok Mams? I can turn it off.”

“No no! I-I-I’m ok! I can do this, for you”

“What was that?”

“Nothing!”

Levi

Similar to Mammon, just less bribe-y and more reassuring him you’ll be next to him.

Will try and blow it off like he’s not scared

“Petscop? Is this a real game?” To his disappointment no it’s not. He ties video games he knows to the series. Overall really quiet as he watches.

He gasps once he realizes kids are the pets and what NLM means in terms of the story. Quietly horrified about the implications of the story, so much so he doesn’t even realize he’s holding onto your arm like a life line.

Please just enjoy the moment and let him hold onto you.

Afterwards he’s amazed by the story telling and how they made the videos look like an actual playable game.

Satan

Arguably the best brother to watch ARGs with.

bold of you to assume he doesn’t already LOVE the ARG scene.

He likes true crime, he likes the puzzle like vibe of it. So of course he likes ARGs

Watch the Monument Mythos with him, HES HOOKED.

Will full on go detective mode on it.

Satan grabs the TV remote for what felt like the 50th time of the night. “Ok ok… Dean right? What if he faked the ADA broadcast so he looks better, like…” he rants as you just sit there amused he likes the series so much, but annoyed he keeps pausing it to put pieces together to soon.

At one point when things finally start adding up, he’s quiet and fully immersed. Giving a “I knew it,” or a “hell yeah” when he theorized something right.

Once you finish the final episode he has chills on his skin, prepare for a fan girl like rant about the series.

Asmo

Mc don’t you know stress is bad for your skin?

Will refuse a horror movie or ARG because of it.

Eventuality will agree to look into an ARG/horror series that doesn’t have horror imagery or jump scares.

“Welcome home? Awww this looks cute~” Asmo will sit there and compliment the cute style of it while watching an analysis video of it.

Gets slightly creeped out at the realistic eyes but other than that he loves it. Even gives his own mini theories. Like how everyone potentially got put into the site/show, how Wally is the only one who says “goodbye” instead of go back.

Over all surprisingly loves it and will wait for an update with you.

Beel

Is down for anything really

If you’re having fun, he’s having fun type of guy.

Although not really into horror, if you like it so much he should to right?

“Vita Carnas? Isn’t that science terms?” He eats watching it at first, but slowly loses appetite due to the nature of the series.

Admits the creatures are really cool and well put together, likes the undertone of the story book pages.

But once he feels that you’re getting scared by the Mimics (let’s be honest who wouldn’t?) he turns into his demon form instinctually. Once you flinch by the realistic puppet the creator made he charges at the TV and breaks it.

“Oh… shit sorry…” Beel says with a wide guilty smile.

Maybe watch something you won’t get jump scared by next time.

Belphie

“Are you trying to give me nightmares?”

Will reluctantly lay on your lap while the series plays

It can’t be to scary so he should be able to sleep through it, right?

“Skinamarink? Sounds like a garbled word…” he says before seeing how the movie is directed.

Already hates it.

Hates the premise the kids are stuck in a horror land.

Hates the voice the kids are hearing.

Is wide eyed watching, slightly backing into you while keeping his eyes on the screen like something will jump at any moment.

When it’s done he’ll be sad about what happened to the siblings, definitely not thinking about Lilith- and in return you’ll have to snuggle him to sleep for a month.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me beel #obey me mammon #obey me belphagor #obey me beelzebub #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmo #obey me lucifer #obey me Belphie #obey me Satan #obey me levi #obey me leviathan #obey me x reader #obey me mc

[astaroth1357]

Demigod MC Series: Hermes

Hey guys, still doing what I can to stay healthy (and entertained) in quarantine. Staying still, keeping calm, and trying not to exert myself too much because of the shortness of breath thing going on. My lungs just can't get enough air it seems… 😅 Anyway, I've gotten a lot of suggestions on this series and I'm excited to keep it going. Just going to be a tad slow until I'm feeling better. Thank you for the support, y'all!

Demigod MC Series: Intro, Aphrodite, Hermes

Lucifer

Oh no… it’s everyone’s worst nightmare… Another Mammon, but competent. Devil help us all…

Had he known who their father was, he'd have never assigned Mammon to watch over them. Hell, he would have made sure those two never even met. They became a new handful for him to manage from the day they first arrived…

When even more things started going missing around the House than normal, he knew he had made a grave mistake… They were clever, quick, and skilled. About the best WORST combination for a burglar to be…

Worse still, they were fast on their feet. He would pretty much have no way to nab them on foot and always had to resort to his wings or magic to have any hope of catching up to them… At least Mammon usually gets himself cornered!

But, paradoxically, he also came to notice that the mortal had an odd honesty streak to them... Like, they’d steal but they’d always admit to it, unlike Mammon who would try to deflect till he was blue in the face.

Were they proud of their work, maybe? Or just didn’t see the point in trying to get away with it...?

There would be several occasions where they’d take something, sell it with Mammon, and then steal the thing back later just to put it back where it belonged, seemingly never with Mammon’s permission to do so either… 

Is it better that they returned the stolen item or worse because their actions went from just robbery to a full-on scam? Either way, it gives him headaches trying to deal with it…

He pretty much gives up getting the mortal to stop after 6 months, they are legitimately that good, but makes them swear to always put back whatever they take at some point. It seems to work out and he lets more things slide, but please someone get them out of here soon… 

Mammon

Soulmatesoulmatesoulmatesoulmate, or maybe more accurately “Partner-in-Crime” but that means pretty much the same thing to him anyway. 🤷‍♀️

He’s never met a person better at thievery than they were. The day they met, they managed to pick his pockets without breaking a sweat (or a finger) and that was it. He was in love.

They could teleport! Actually teleport!! Suddenly, NOTHING was off limits to him any more! Lucifer’s rare records? Easy. Levi’s secret safe? Cakewalk. The Castle vault?? Child’s play!! It was like they could steal anything they put their mind to!!

He didn't even have to worry about them when they made getaways because they were fast too, the two actually have parkour races through the streets for the hell of it!

On top of all that, they were wicked creative. He’d come up with a money-making scheme then they’d offer him all sorts of little tricks to help get away with it...

HE’D have never realized that they could turn themselves into rats in order to frighten and sneak past Barbatos, but they thought of it the instant they heard of his fear of things. They're a mad genius!!

The only real downside was they seemed to like stealing for the sport of it instead of for the money… so they always steal back whatever they took.

That kind of defeats the purpose of all that work in the first place, right? Ah well, at least that's more money for him.

These two pretty much became a walking menace to Devildom society- Sorry, not sorry.

Leviathan

Not another Mammon!!! WHY?! What did he do to deserve this?!?

When he started noticing that EVEN MORE of his stuff was going missing than usual, he straight-up flipped! Like, had the mortal not been pretty tough in their own right they would have been Lotan-chow. End of discussion.

… And then they started using their powers for good? Kind of?

Like, first off they would always give back what they stole, which was a nice change from Mammon. Annoying, but at least he didn't have to go buy replacement games or anything…

And then they started stealing him limited edition merch or tickets and stuff because they… liked him?? He guessed???

Why else would they go to all the trouble of swiping one of the five ultra-rare Kitsune Ruri-chan figurines from its original collector? He would have had to pay Mammon half his tail for something like that but the MC just brought it to him one morning because they could!

Is… is this love? Has he grown to love that which he hates?! What is even happening anymore!?! Who is he?!? 😫

Eventually he has to reconcile his conflicted feelings by dubbing them the real life Peony Phantom Thief, Jane and even making them a cosplay. Yes, they have to wear it when they bring him things. No, it's not weird, shut up.

Satan

He wants to be irritated, no - furious, that they keep taking his stuff… But he’ll be damned if they aren’t making Lucifer’s life a living hell right now. 😏

He's honestly not even sure how they managed to swipe half of the priceless portraits in the Castle (a considerable feat since there's one for Every. Room.) but they pulled it off in under a week. Barbs didn't even notice the replicas…

If that's not mildly terrifying, he doesn't know what is. Who knows what things he could be missing at any given moment...?

At least the mortal had the good sense to return his things, unlike Mammon, which gets them off his shit list for the most part. 🤷‍♀️

It helps that they’re also impressively well-traveled. They claim to have been across every human continent and sailed every ocean. Though he was skeptical at first, just hearing their stories eventually convinced him.

What sort of person has sailed the Amazon River, hiked through Arctic tundra, seen every major capital city, and still had time to explore the sights of the French Riviera?

One that has magical teleportation powers apparently.

Frankly, he could listen to their stories of the human world all day and still ask for another. He's told them that they may as well just write a book of their own for him at some point, it'd be beneficial to their poor vocal chords.

Asmodeus

Ugh! Really? Another thief in the House?? Wasn’t one hard enough to deal with?!

Honestly, stolen beauty products aren't exactly something you can just sell or give back, so unfortunately a lot of Asmo's clothes/accessories get targeted and he is NOT happy about it...

Around the time his favorite scarf was stolen for the third time, he was about to gut the mortal himself, but they struck a deal with him. They could nab his clothes SO LONG as they returned them with an extra little "gift."

Jewelry, perfume, creams, nail polish, etc. Asmo kept a running list and pretty much treated his thieving friend like a less moral version of Akuzon. Whatever he asked for, no matter how rare or expensive, they always got their hands on so who was he to complain?

He once decided to test them by asking for the Hope Diamond - which they got for him - but he made them return it after a week after the curse on it made him ruin a particularly intricate manicure so…

Like Satan, he's also pretty impressed with all the places they've seen. He's pretty traveled in the human world himself so they exchange travel stories all the time!

He may bother them to him out traveling from time to time. There are so many gorgeous and romantic places to visit in the human world after all, it's not like anybody could stop them from just… popping in to have a look. Right? 😏

Beelzebub

They learned very quickly that his food is absolutely off limits and after that, they were good.

Seriously. Beel caught them once trying to swipe a piece of pizza from his dinner and he nearly ripped their arm off for it…

But on the flipside, he also knows that he can go to them if he REALLY needs a snack and is short on cash. 

It's pretty comical watching the fleet-foot mortal running from angry demon vendors with a basket of stolen apples for their buddy… But he appreciates their enthusiasm! 🙂

Beel actually likes to hear about their travels too, but mostly what they've eaten. They can keep him enraptured for hours by describing all the food they've come across in the human world…

Watch out for the drool, though.

Since they can teleport, they'll sometimes pop up with a human world treat for him and the man internally swears his undying love for them every time...

Outwardly, though, he just smiles. 'Cause he's a sweetie.

Belphegor

They… they opened the attic door on, like, the first day they met… They didn’t even make it look that hard, they had some kind of knack for breaking and entering…

Seriously, imagine the look on his face when they just walk into the attic to say hello… He had this whole, “Lure and Trick the Human” plan all thought out then they pulled out a magic lockpick or something and BOOM! Freedom!

He laughed, perhaps a little closer to the edge of sanity than he was intending, and he tried to attack them but they were so damn fast he couldn't land a single hit!

Damn was it embarrassing when the others came in…

MC: "LUCIFER! LUCIFER!! There's a monster in your attic!!!"

Lucifer: "That's not a monster that's my brother!!"

MC: *stops midway through kneeing Belphie in the stomach* …. Ooooooooh!

MC: Whoops. 

It was a… rocky start.

After they settled their differences quelled Belphie's bloodlust he found that they kind of grew on him rather quickly… Something about that mischievous energy and how much they gave his brothers (minus Beel) grief with it.

He absolutely helps them with their plans if it will annoy Lucifer in any way. Occasionally, they'll even take Belphie out on raids instead of Mammon.

Turns out he's surprisingly good at distractions because all he has to do is pretend to fall then take a nap. People around him will legitimately believe that he needs medical attention so the MC can sneak through crowds undetected...

Of course, Mammon gets PISSED when they do this, though. How dare his baby brother try to steal away his perfect partner!! Get your own damn mortal, Belphie!!! 🤬

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios #obey me demigods

[woopboopboop]

heaven is a place on earth; hell is too

a/n: i just like the idea behind the prompt so i thought i’d write it. and to @harrysgloves​, thank you for the encouragement sent early this year! happy reading everyone! :)

content warnings: strong language, graphic depictions of violence, mentions of drug.

[usually, in the story, the gang leader will kidnap a person, right? this time, it’s the other way around]

“Are you a demon?”

She stops twirling the handcuffs in her hand and put it on the wooden drawer next to the bedroom doorway. For a beat, she doesn’t quiet know what to say because it is not the common “where am I?” or “who are you?” or even him trying to escape. But, only for a beat. Then, she straightens from where she is leaning at the door.

When he asks the next question, she pretends to not hear and calls for Ezra. If it is not for the real intention behind this, she probably would entertain his question and tell him if there is any angel in the room, if she is one, it would be an incarnation of Lucifer.

The younger boy comes as quick as she calls him and stands beside her at the doorway, waiting for whatever she has to say.

“He’s still in the cloud,” she says, eyes still assessing Harry who is lying on his back on the bed before turning her attention to the raven haired boy next to her. “How many did you use?”

“Just like you wrote in the note,” Ezra answers. 

She hums and returns to look at Harry who is now looking at his hands, inspecting for who knows what and mumbling something. Well, she did want the drug to make him forget a little bit. But not to the point where he is delirious. In this condition, there is no way he can give her what she is looking for.

“Are you sure?” Her eyes return to Ezra’s confused ones. There must be something wrong somewhere. He did what she told him to. Maybe not in a way she had instructed it. “You do know there’s a point before the number five, right?”

When she said that the confusion in his eyes shifts to realisation and it dawns on him. That would explain it. He did not forget, obviously. He misread it. He should’ve given Harry a half of the vial, not the whole thing.

She let out a sigh, thinking how there is no undoing this now. She can only hope the effect of the drug will wear off soon. Besides her, Ezra looks like he is trying to say something but the words don’t come out. He gives up then, head drooping slightly, the tips of his ears are red. 

“It’s okay, Ezra.” She gives him a small smile, trying to ease his silent guilt as he knows this plan is important to her. The smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes but he doesn’t want to say anything, afraid that it will make the situation worst. Instead, he says his apology before leaving quietly and quickly after she dismisses him.

“Am I… on a boat?” Harry slurs.

At first, she answers him by shaking her head, hand grabbing the abandoned cuffs on the drawer while she strides over to him. The colour is muted in the room and she figures he can’t see much but the faint cold blue of the evening that is falling like a dusky curtain of the room. So when she stops a reasonable distance away from him, she answers him curtly, “No. Not anymore.”

The sight is a great pity. It is almost like seeing someone on the edge of falling off the pedestal. Who would’ve thought that there will be time when she can see a person who is deemed organised and calculated, feared in the underworld, be so weak. Unguarded. His once pressed, white dress shirt stained with dirt and blood.

Seeing how vulnerable he is in that moment; she can just end him then and there. That was the job after all. And she did pull the trigger that had sent brain pieces to fly everywhere before Harry landed face down on the flour sacks stacked on the boat with a thud, leaving white powder dancing in the air. Not really a way to go for a notorious gang leader if you ask her but the woman and the two men on the other side of the canal seemed content which made it another job well done.

Except that the brain blown was not Harry’s. And as far as the world, especially the Abramo who had delivered their order to end Harry’s life and insisted on witnessing it, is concerned, he is a dead man.

“Am I in hell?” His voice snaps her from her trance. She thought he slips out of his consciousness again when he went silence seconds ago.

This sod. She tilts her head, looking at him and shrugs. “Depends.”

There is something in his eyes and she knows he is trying to make sense of it all because she feels his resistance when she tugs his wrist closer to the bed post above his head. A part of him resurfacing, despising to be in such position. But his brain might still be too hazy to think through so he just let her cuffs him without much struggle.

“Oh! Kinky,” he teases, neck straining to look where his cuffed wrist is at which makes her scoffs. He then looks at her like he is taking note of her face, eyes narrowed.

Maybe he is remembering how she looks like so it’s easy for him to instruct his men to hunt her down once he gets out of there. If he is able to walk out there alive that is. 

If he wants to. 

If she lets him. 

Because, even though as organised and calculated of a man Harry is, this time, she has the few steps ahead.

///

“Now, really,” Harry starts. Sitting up becomes more of a task when one of his hands is cuffed and his brain feels like it is rattling against his skull with every move he makes. “If you wanted to see me so badly, we could have just meet up.”

When he woke up minutes ago, he thought he was in his bed until his senses kicked in and it hurt almost as his throbbing head. Since then, he has been trying to get out of the restrain that tied him to the bed post on top his head and figures out what is happening, where is he. Out the window, it is pitch-black.

He probably is in hell; his brain had decided to land him there.

In retrospect, it is as surprising as it is expected. To be in hell, that is. After all of the deals making, bloods spilling, life taking, fists colliding, he knows there is a place for him here. Only that he expects that it would be overwhelmingly hot and full of screaming human, or what’s left of them. Where he is now is opposite of that. The cold nips his skin and the silence is unnerving. Maybe hell is not all fire and brimstones.

“I tried,” the woman says. Her voice is smooth.

That smooth voice is a good sign. It shows that this person is still able to tolerate whatever deal that he can make out of this. But it is not necessarily safe.

“You are a busy man.”

In between the lack of conversation, he tries to place her somewhere and everywhere but he has never seen her before. Moving up to find a more comfortable position, the movement has caused a dull throb behind his head that makes him wince. Somehow, it also unlocks a sound of gunshot and his gaze flicks to her. At the foot of the bed, she is unfazed.

“You shot me.” His voice rumbles lowly; somewhere between amusement and danger.

“That what was asked for.” It is stated oh-so-matter-of-factly and he accepts it.

He is in no place to make a fuss about it since enemies, like friends or business partners, are made along the way. If anything, he is a little bit bewildered at the attempt of keeping him alive and he doesn’t like not knowing what brought him here. Well, aside from someone ordering this woman here to kill him, but he is not dead though, which makes the motive behind whatever this is, is more questionable.

“Am I dead? I am in hell?”

The questions are supposed to be echoed in his brain but his slightly hazy state betrays him which caused the words to left his mouth unfiltered. The words then hang in the air and it makes him internally cringe. Her unamused face certainly doesn’t help with the situation. “What?”

“I never really thought people like you believe in afterlife.” To be fair, he never really thought about it himself. He is too busy living his life here. Not the one after. “And that is the second time you ask me that question,” she continues.

“So, I am alive.” He swears his mouth is really trying to destroy all the reputation he has been building all these years of being a gang leader. Fearless, self-assured and all that but he conceals the uncertainty in his voice with a smirk. “Why? They didn’t pay you enough for you to complete your job? Maybe you are afraid my men would take revenge on my death?”

She raises one eyebrow, shifting her weight from one leg to the other and he takes that as a sign to probe further, “Sentiment, perhaps?”

“They paid enough. A vendetta is the least of my concern. And no, it’s not sentiment.” With every answer to his question, she takes a step closer until she stops at his side.

“Then you’re holding me for ransom? It would be a huge amount of money, although, I don’t think my accountant would be so happy with that much money flowing out –”

“I have more important purpose for you than death or money.”

If it’s not him or his money, so it might be for her own benefit. The thing about Harry or he would like to think so in this way about himself is that his concern when it comes to being in a situation or making a deal is he will be leaning unto anything that benefits him the most. He tolerates as long as he is presented with a mutually beneficial outcome. In this situation, it is no difference. She wants something from him and he wants her to let him go.

“Interesting.” A smirk on his lips is now blooming into a full smile as he tilts his head. “Maybe you can uncuff me first and then we can carry on with our business?”

If she hears him, she is purposely ignoring his question and diverts her attention to reaching whatever it is in her trouser pocket. When she pulls something out of it, she holds a picture of a man at an arm length. Its creased lines showed that it has been folded and unfolded multiple times.

He is about to take it from her hand to inspect something scribbled at the corner of the picture but she retreats her arm half way, still holding it between her thumb and forefinger. “Do you know him?”

“You know, we could’ve discussed about this over a meet up or dinner. The cuff is really unnessa –”

“Just answer me.”

If she has been quiet this whole time, passive, this is the first time he sees her reacting. The smoothness in her voice now has an edge to it, her eyes are hard and piercing; a presage of storm. He presses his lips together and answers with a nod.

“I need you to talk to him,” she says. The picture is folded and put in her pocket again.

He cocks one eyebrow towards her. “Why don’t you do it yourself?”

“I know only you can reach him.”

That is true, to a certain extent. The last question he has now is that will doing what she wants him to do benefits him too, so he asks in the way that he usually does. “What if I won’t?”

Like a fired bullet, her fist catches tight in the front of his clothes and then her hand finds his throat, knocking his head hard against the headboard. He juts his chin up almost defiantly and grabs her wrist with his free hand.

He pushes her wrist away but it is a futile effort as he can feel how her fingers reach near the particular throbbing part at the nape of his neck, digging in. 

“Fir – first the cuff. Now, you are tr – trying to choke me? Take me, fuck, take me on a dinner first, at least.” He grins despite his choked words and his ragged breath.

“You fucker,” she spats, eyes darken, “this is all a game for you, isn’t it?”

The storm he predicts reaches him and he is trapped in it as she pushes him impossibly further into the headboard, her fingers tightening around his neck while his loosens up around her wrist. He is whirling little by little, the full smile reduced to a tug at the corner of his lips.

“The Abramo was right when they come to us, to me, to launch their vendetta. You are a cocky piece of shit and the only place you deserve to be at is at the bottom of the cold, murky canal with a big gap behind your head!”

“Do you regret… no – not killing me?” He chuckles but it sounds strangled.

“You are making it really easy right now,” she snarls.

Maybe it is the restriction of breath or the warmth of her breath fanning out over his face against the coldness of the room but there is a glint in her eyes. He had been in near-death’s hold before but this feels like he is being thrusted into one without warning as he witnesses a sinister gleam in her face. She has been waiting for this moment. However, before she can end it or start it, she let go of him and strengthens herself up.

“Although,” she sighs, backing away. “I believe your mum and sister won’t find it that easy.”

It takes him minutes to be able to focus on her again, blinking and gasping a little. Her eyes are still boring into him. In between relief and dismal and the ringing in his ears, he notices her settling into the unfazed demeanour she was in before until –

“Dotty and Dusty will probably going to miss you too when you’re gone.”

His stills.

Nobody. Nobody knows about the cats. 

Rivals targeting his family is a part of his work hazard and he always makes sure they are under his protection. It is such trivial matter. It is only cats’ names. But to know it specifically holds a certain power against him because it either means that she had been in his house before or it means that she has been in close proximity with either his mum or his sister to know about that much information.

And at that moment, whatever security he puts his family under, it is not safe anymore. His stomach bottoms out and she is delighted to see him in that way to say the least.

“What do you want?” He grits his teeth, moving forward to fight and the cuff clinks against the headboard because of the sudden jerk.

“There’s only one thing that I want.” Her voice is smooth. She is back at the feet of the bed again, now, with a faint smile on her lips. “But I need you to be able to hold up a proper conversation first before we continue with the business.”

It is not much of a mock or provocation but he still feels a squeezing of terror and of anger. His jaw clenches. “I am talking to you now, don’t I?”

She is already walking towards the door, leaving him struggling to stand up behind her. The bed legs scrap against the wooden floor as he pulls the bed along with him when he tries to grab her arm or shoulder or hair but she is already far away from his reach.

“Not enough,” she says while sparing him a look over the shoulder.

When he realises he is not going to go anywhere, not when he is still restrained to the bed, especially, not when the wood under his feet begins to warp, he fell back on the bed, eyes squeezed tight to block the sharp pain of his head. Defeated.

“Get a good rest. I need you fresh first thing in the morning,” she says before the door shuts. 

Wherever he is, be it in the real world or the after, this is hell.

#writings #gangleader!harry #gang!harry #gang!au #Harry Styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagines #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #one direction #one direction imagines #one direction preferences #one direction imagine #one direction preference #mafia!au #mafia!harry #gangleader!h

[qqueenofhades]

did you watch lucifer season six and what are your thoughts pls and ty

Ahaha. Yes. Yes I did watch it. Then I cried for a literal hour and attempted to compose myself, only to start crying again when I lay down and kept on thinking about it. Then I had more feelings. Then I slept like the dead due to emotional trauma. Then I reblogged gifsets and had More feelings. Then @buffaluff and @flynnanimal watched it and also required emotional support due to drowning in their own tears. So, uh... we're all fine here now. How are you?

My main takeaway from the final season was the sheer amount of love for the characters, story, and fans that you could feel shining through all the episodes, and which made SUCH a refreshing change. I had feelings in my tags the other day about how a show about the devil was constantly goofy, hopeful, loving, and uplifting, rather than all the grimdark nonsense they could have easily done with it. (As I said, just imagine it as written by the GOT idiots?? NO THANK YOU.) The writing really loved everyone and wanted to give them a proper ending and emotional journey, and it wanted to show the fans that they weren't stupid for having invested six seasons of effort and emotion into this, and just... that is so much rarer than it should be? Compare all the movies and TV shows that treat their fans like the enemy, that want to outsmart them at all costs even if it means changing major plot elements, that ferociously guard spoilers and think that "shock value" means good writing, by throwing hackneyed cliche upon cliche and making everything Depressing, and just... Lucifer had its hiccups and slow points and missteps, of course, but I am SO glad they didn't do that. The entire show consisted of Lucifer slowly but steadily progressing toward being a better man, despite mistakes and setbacks and sometimes a little too much will-they-won't-they. (Season 3 was the only one where I got bored and skipped over the filler episodes with Pierce/Lucifer/Chloe in order to get to the end).

That is an essentially simple premise, but they stuck to it, and they didn't try to create more drama by randomly wrecking what they had already established. I wrote a fic all the way back in mid-season 2 (In Nomine Patris) that ended up predicting quite a few of the future characters who had not yet appeared on the show at that time, including Eve, Michael, and Azrael, and several plot points, including the very major one of Lucifer returning to hell for the sake of his daughter with Chloe. And while this might mean that I am just that good at guessing TV shows (I would like to think this....) it also means that the writers set expectations, followed through on those expectations, and didn't suddenly derail everything or turn it totally on its head just for the sake of cheap shocks. As we can all attest, they certainly caused PLENTY of drama, anguish, pain, and suffering, but they did it in a way that remained faithful to the overall premises of the story and the characters, and wanted to see them become the best versions of themselves. I cried my eyes out at the end and then thought, "hey, I might want to watch the whole series again," which, if you ask me, is the mark of doing your job right. There have been so few TV endings recently where I didn't immediately swear off the whole thing or have to pretend that canon didn't exist, so yeah.

As I said, it was just refreshing to watch something that had that essential deep generosity at its core, where the message is that everyone is worthy of love if they make the hard and painful effort to change and become better, and that even if earthly things feel small next to all this messy celestial drama, they still matter, and that you are loved no matter what. I loved that Amenadiel became God and Lucifer returned to hell as a choice in order to help all the trapped souls be able to work through their guilt and go to heaven. There were obviously certain echoes of The Good Place in that ending; I don't know if it was something they had planned all along or if the success of TGP, another series asking deep questions about life, death, morality, and human nature within the framework of a goofy heaven-and-hell sitcom, influenced it, but either way, it worked so well. Even if it tore my heart out and stomped on it on the ground, it was fitting and oh so lovely to see Lucifer, once the most selfish being in the entire universe, following in Linda's footsteps and becoming selflessly dedicated to helping other people. Just. Chef's kiss.

And of course, Deckerstar. The Hades and Persephone vibes were IMMACULATE this season, and while it did take Lucifer and Chloe the best part of four seasons to get together, they never significantly backslid, never had third-party issues or cheap cheating storylines once they were officially a couple, and Tom Ellis and Lauren German REALLY killed it this season in particular. It was never easy for them and sometimes the drama went on a little too long over the course of said six seasons, but the love story was beautiful and incredibly meaningful and always true to the fact that the actors and characters and writers (not to mention the fans) all loved it so much. They were so much the emotional heart of this, and when they went to hell together in episode 6x03 (where they turned into cartoons because wHAT even IS this show), Joe Henderson said in an interview that this was to give the fans a view into Lucifer and Chloe's future (after) lives post-6x10, and to offer them a basis to write fanfiction. I mean... the showrunner saying to the fans "here, we love you, have something to write fic about!" is likewise pretty shockingly rare. It's again an example of how this show always audaciously poked fun at itself, never took itself TOO seriously, and was always welcoming its fans and the people who loved it to do so, rather than making them feel stupid or taking joy in wrecking beloved characters or plots.

Obviously, I loved Rory, the badass lesbian half-angel goth Deckerstar child straight out of My Immortal (seriously, she was SO edgy, it was amazing), because of the fact that Lucifer's entire arc was always about feeling abandoned by his father and that he was going to have to face it for himself. Dorky Devil Dad Lucifer trying his absolute HARDEST to bond with his daughter was simultaneously hilarious, adorable, and heart-wrenching, and yet again, the Growth. We all remember when he could barely tolerate Trixie touching him, and now we're here. Also, any variation whatsoever of "this is just a brief moment of time that we must be apart, love is eternal and stronger than death and we will never really leave each other" as a line is guaranteed to make me bawl my eyes out. So that was fun.

I got a big kick out of Ghost Dan running around and trying to get everyone to see him, and had feelings about seeing him in heaven with Charlotte and his beloved Pudding Pops at the end. I had feelings about how they handled Ella finding out the truth (or rather demanding to know why nobody had told her) and of course, I obviously loved Maze and Eve and their goth/femme wedding and the fact that they got a good three-season romantic arc (indeed, I wanted more of them). My god, Trixie is SO BIG, she used to be a tiny little nugget. I love that Linda was the moral and emotional rock all along, from the first episode to the very last, and that Amenadiel was Deeply Vindicated when Charlie's wings appeared at his first birthday party. I love how Lucifer in s6 is absolute thousands of light years from Lucifer in s1. And as ever, Chloe was Perfect. I am happy that I spent six seasons with these characters and saw them become better, and that I was never made to feel like an idiot for trusting the writers to end everything in a beautiful and emotional way. Because, well. They did. Sure, maybe I could go back and pick at a plotline here or a detail there, but I don't terribly feel the need to do so? It might not have been perfect, but it was perfect, and I am so grateful that it existed.

#lucifer #lucifer spoilers #deckerstar #anonymous #ask

[nona-piccolo]

A Savior

Pairing(s): Reader x Beelzebub

Pronouns: she/her/hers

Warnings: attempted assault, some harsh language

The underworld, or what they liked to call the ‘Devildom’ was rarely silent. It seemed to be one of the busiest places you’ve ever had the opportunity to live in; the constant rush of demons walking by, sometimes in pairs and sometimes alone, the lights from demon-owned stores and restaurants, the loud talking of conversations. Not only did it feel natural, but it felt welcoming. It felt comfortable. 

It was a whole different story at night however. 

The demons that would walk by had their hoods up, they had their hands stuffed into their pockets that filled your mind with mystery on what they could be clutching in their hands.  And the conversations between them were more hushed. Almost nonexistent. The normally bright and lit city was now dimmed; it seemed almost… alarming. 

It was quiet now, and that was something you found unsettling.

You should have felt safe.

But you didn’t.

Instead, you felt alone and shaky. You had never seen the Devildom this way. The chill of the night time breeze making you feel completely naked, despite the layers of clothes you wore over your RAD uniform. Silently you thanked Asmodeus for boisterously wrapping you in a light pink scarf this morning. He insisted that its color would match your rosy cheeks. Unsurprisingly, Asmo’s perfume was still gripped to the scarf like a stain. Its light and warm fabric did wonders to keep you from completely panicking as you clutched to it for dear life.

The shadows of the large buildings cast imaginary images in your mind. They seemed to claw at the night sky, so that when you looked up, you could barely see the faint light of the stars. Each street lamp seemed dimmer and dimmer the further you walked, grappling you down a path of darkness. 

Suddenly, the scurrying of a small creature jumped from the shadows and onto the street, where it ran ballistically in circles before jolting down the road that you were the only one occupying. You had let out an audible screech at the intrusion of silence, feeling your heart race a pounding rate. 

“Goddamnit…” you muttered in a hushed tone, watching the little creature squeak back into the darkness. That thing almost gave you a heart attack. You couldn’t see a thing. You couldn’t hear a thing. Were you even going the right way? You thought the path home was simple and easy enough- you had the Devildom roads engraved into your memory from the months you’ve spent here. It was like looking at the back of your hand. So why were you hesitating now?

You walked around the corner, the tippy top of the RAD building was now officially out of your point of view. Maybe by some luck from God, you’d run into Solomon, who decided that this night would be one of the nights he was staying late from school to research more in the library too. Or maybe Simeon would appear from a late night stroll and wisk you back to the House of Lamentation. Maybe if you turned back now Diavolo would still be at the RAD building working on some wretched paperwork he always liked to complain about. Maybe out of the kindness of his heart, he’d walk you home. He’d make sure you’d be safe.

You lightly scoffed. Why the hell would the literal Prince of the Devildom take out the time of his night to help walk some human home?

No, you could do this. One step at a time, each step getting you closer to the building that you had got to call home, filled with the comfort of each brother. A small smile pulled on your face as you recalled the faces of the seven demons. Lucifer, Mammon, Levi, Satan, Asmo, Belphie… and Beel. The thought of them gave you a slight moment to breathe normally again. 

Had you been breathing so heavily this entire time?

No, you told yourself, it’ll be okay. You wanted them to know that you could handle yourself out here. That they didn’t have to constantly baby you. That the Devildom wasn’t as bad as it was portrayed in stories and books. Despite the warnings that Lucifer had given you about other demons when you first arrived here, spending time with such wonderful demons such as the brothers, may have brought your guard down. It may have accidentally caused you to see all demons in a good light.

And that naivety allowed for your mind to wander far enough as to not have heard the several footsteps that dragged close behind you.

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Mammon tapped a finger against the armchair, shifting his sitting position again for the fiftieth time in the last twenty minutes. He must have looked like a madman to the normal person, his head swivelling to the door and to then the hallway and then behind him again and again. He was waiting for something to happen; or to put it more frankly he was waiting for you. Any minute now you would bound through the front door with a big grin on your face, and then Mammon’s ass would be saved from getting into trouble. Lucifer wouldn’t find out that he let you walk home alone and then proceed to hang him from his feet off of the banister for the poor choices he’s made.

Or… that was what he kept telling himself.

Instantly, a shadow of shame fell across the white-haired demon’s face. He couldn’t believe he was more worried about getting into trouble than making sure your life wasn’t in danger. Was he really this selfish? This greedy?

During breakfast time he had pulled you off to the side, begging for you to take his place in searching for the required books on the next project he had due. Mammon had always hated scoping through a barrage of books at the library. It was nauseating and boring; and he had no interest in finding the correct book titles and carding through said books just for a measly literature project. 

No. Instead what interested him was the underground gambling ring that he had heard of. The rumors danced through the school for weeks now, and with the many connections Mammon had made over the years, he knew this was a chance for him to make potential easy bank. So the plan was simple; he would get you to do the after school research for him, while he ditched his last classes of school in exchange for going gambling. The difficult part wasn’t the ditching- since Mammon was practically a pro at that- but the fact that he needed to actually persuade you in agreeing to his stupid idea. But even now, you continued to surprise him. Despite knowing how excruciatingly long it could take, and besides the fact that it wasn’t your burden to carry, you still accepted. 

Mammon felt like crying.

Despite the hundreds of calls Mammon sent to your phone, you didn’t pick up once.

It’s been hours now and he still hasn’t heard from you.

Lucifer was going to murder him.

Lucifer was going to find out that he made you walk alone at night and he was going to rip his head off of his body and stake it right on the-

“Mammon?”

“EEEEEEEEEEEEK!!” Mammon screamed, throwing his body against the chair with so much force he almost knocked the entire thing over. He didn’t even realize Asmo had made his way into the main room so silently. “I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING I SWEAR!”

Asmodeus raised an eyebrow, his hands sassily thrown on his hips as he stared at Mammon with familiar disinterest. His younger brother was wearing his pink night robe, another reminder to Mammon that it was already so late. “Like I’d believe that, but this isn’t about you. I’m looking for Y/N~ Have you seen her?” 

The question was an innocent one, but almost automatically Mammon felt his stomach bubble with poison. He suddenly felt sick and queasy, steadying himself on the arms of the chair. “No….” The muscles in Mammon’s shoulders involuntarily flinched. Mammon should have said more, but it was like his body was rejecting it. Like if he didn’t admit out loud that Y/N hasn’t come home yet, it wouldn’t be a reality. 

Now, Asmodeus wasn’t dull. It was his pride and ability to understand feelings and communication that allowed him to read the room like an Olympic, and yet in this instance it wouldn’t take a philosopher to recognize something was very wrong. “Mammon, weren’t you with her?” He questioned lightly, eyebrows twitching in annoyance. “I haven’t seen my darling all day, which is already weird since she was supposed to come to my room tonight and help me apply a new face mask. It’s almost 12:30!!” he huffed, inching closer and closer to Mammon’s face as the latter continuously attempted to sink further back into the seat. Hopefully the chair would swallow Mammon whole and save him from this living nightmare.

Mammon shrugged his shoulders as a wordless I don’t know, which only seemed to agitate Asmo more. Quickly he realized that Asmodeus needed to hear actual words.

“Oh boy… is it hot in here? Because I’m sweating buckets ehehe..” Mammon laughed humorlessly, reaching up to fan the collar of his shirt in order to get air flowing over his sweat ridden neck.

“No, I thouft if wash ashually prettie chillie thoday.”

This time, it wasn’t Asmo’s high pitched and whiny voice to respond. 

It was a deep and slow rumbling voice, and way more unclear due to the fact that it seemed like said demon had his mouth full of food. A preoccupied Beelzebub was standing over Asmodeus, his giant shadow casted over the lust demon. His arms were full with a variety of different foods he no doubt snatched from the kitchen on the way back to his room for a midnight snack. He cradled the food in his arms like they were his children, ready for him to gobble up as soon as he probably got back to his room. Actually, Mammon was shocked that there was any food left for Beel to even take back to his room, let alone the fact that the ginger demon was standing here in the main hall trying to butt into their business. Usually Beel was uninterested in idle chat that the rest of his brothers were involved in. Banter and arguments were of no interest to Beelzebub. 

And yet for some reason, Beel found interest in the conversation that Mammon and Asmo were having.

“I actually haven’t seen Y/N at all today either. She’s not in her room” Beel muttered, slowly taking another giant bite from a rather large sandwich. His eyes were trained down on the floor, clearly bothered by the conclusion that left his lips. 

There it was. That was the reason Beelzebub inserted himself into the conversation. 

Because of Y/N.

Mammon felt another train of guilt ram into his chest, and he clutched the area above his heart as if it could stop it from bursting. He knew how much Y/N means to Beel. He knew from the many late night talks Mammon and Beel had; how the ginger would once confess to Mammon that he may have liked her more than normal. That he was confused on why her smiles made him feel lightheaded, and that her laughter made her almost ten times prettier than she already was. Mammon had simply brushed Beel off as a lunatic at that time. Beel was a demon, and Y/N was a human. Beel was simply delusional.

But Mammon had watched the two interact from that moment on. All the baking Y/N had done for Beel, when they were the first two to fall asleep leaning on each other after movie night, how Beel made sure to split his food portions with her, how they both pulled away like lightning shocked them when their hands accidentally touch, how he purposefully requested foods that he knew were her favorites. He realized it wasn’t just a fleeting thing that Beelzebub felt. His closed up and simple-minded younger brother truly and deeply admired Y/N. 

Mammon felt like an awful older brother in that moment. 

“See?!” Asmodeus gestured to Beel with open arms. “Even Beel hasn’t seen her. What is going on?”

Mammon couldn’t even lift his head to look into the eyes of his worried little brothers. The hurt on their faces would cause him to burst. Mammon concluded he had to be one the unluckiest demon in the world.

Before he could answer, someone yet again spoke up. Another familiar face; and one that Mammon had been dreading.

“I thought I’d find you all here. What is all the ruckus about?”

Nope. He spoke too soon. He was the unluckiest demon in the world.

Mammon swallowed his saliva thickly, his throat clogging up almost instantly, making his whole body freeze as if all his blood was turned into ice. He wasn’t the only one; Asmo and Beel had both tensed up at the mere sound of the voice.

Lucifer stood there, his arms crossed against his chest. He was probably waiting for the situation to be explained. He was probably waiting to hear how Mammon had screwed something up this time. How Mammon had managed to cause them trouble yet again. ‘Mammon this’ and ‘Mammon that’. The guilt was written all over his face. They might as well handcuff him and throw him in a prison cell to rot.

Maybe that’s what he deserves.

Unlike the other two, Mammon raised his head slowly to get a look at Lucifer. There were dark undereye circles formed under his striking red eyes, and it was clear Lucifer needed some sleep from the tireless work he probably had today. His eyes looked different.

They looked exhausted. They looked dead. Perhaps they were.

“Lucifer! We haven’t seen Y/N all day, so we were just asking Mammon where she was! I mean, she’s not in her room, she’s not picking up her phone, she’s not anywhere!” Asmodeus hurriedly explained, brushing out a stray piece of hair that had fallen in front of his perfect face.

Beel nodded in agreement, turning towards Lucifer to give him his full attention.

But even with all their eyes now trained on Lucifer, the demon of pride gave none of them his attention; only Mammon. His eyes were narrowed down and zoned in on the cowering man. All color had left Mammon’s face as he tried to stop himself from shaking at the potential news he needed to share to the rest of his brothers- and for the punishment that would be coming as a result.

“Well? Where is she Mammon?” Lucifer demanded, tapping a finger. “Didn’t she walk home with you today?”

The white-haired demon may not be the brightest tool in the shed; but he knew when to admit guilt. He knew that with every second wasted, Y/N was still out there on the streets of literal hell walking home alone. He couldn’t worry about the punishment he may face because of his stupid mistake; her safety should have come first.

He forced himself to speak. His throat made a strange noise when he swallowed.

“I-I… I don’t know,” he said softly. His shoulders were tensed up and his head was dropped forward. As if he was ashamed. “I didn’t walk home with her today… She stayed late doing research at the academy while I went home.”

Lucifer’s eye twitched involuntarily, and his nails suddenly dug into his own arms harshly. “You WHAT?” he yelled, his expression differing from Asmodeus and Beelzebub’s expression. 

Asmo’s eyes widened tenfold, and his mouth hung agape. “She’s walking home alone?! Around Devildom all willy nilly?!” he screeched, panic rushing through his veins at an alarming speed. While Asmo’s panicked expression was just as frightening to Mammon, Lucifer’s anger was far worse. He could see all kinds of emotions in Lucifer's face. The wrinkle of anger across his forehead, the fear, wrath, and disappointment portrayed in his eyes. 

“Let me get this straight Mammon, she is still out there at 12:30 am in the middle of the Devildom because you decided that you weren’t going to make sure she’s fine, even though that was the job assigned to you. She could be killed! We haven’t got a hold of her yet, and you are just sitting here WAITING?” Lucifer’s voice was sharp and cold, hitting the nail on every point. Even through his cracked exterior, Mammon could tell Lucifer was panicking.

“When was the last time anyone saw her??” Lucifer demanded, quickly zeroing in on Asmodeus. He probably didn’t want to look at Mammon’s guilt-ridden face anymore. And Mammon couldn’t blame him.

Asmodeus’s eyebrows shot up. “Don’t look at me! I haven’t seen her for hours Lucifer!” his light eyes filled to the brim with tears, and his voice on the verge of shaking.

“Lucifer,” Mammon began, his bottom lip trembling. He felt sick. “I- I know I should’ve gone to you straight away but I didn’t mean to-”

“Stop talking Mammon. We will discuss this later,” Lucifer spat, still not looking him in the eye. “Asmodeus, go find Leviathan and tell him to try and track down where Y/N’s phone may be. Wake up Satan and Belphegor. They will be the search party.”

Almost immediately Asmodeus rushed out of the room, leaving Lucifer to deal with the other two.

“Beel, I need you to stay here in case she comes back. If she does we-” Lucifer paused his command, scanning the room at an alarming speed. “Beel?”

The room was empty; all that was left was the remains of leftover food disregarded on the floor of the main hall. They hadn’t seen him leave.

All they heard was the front door slam shut.

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Beel was always more of the quiet type. 

His brothers were brash and uncooperative; Mammon would get into trouble, and then Lucifer would begrudgingly step in to fix it, and then Satan or Asmo would poke fun at him, causing him to bite back, all the while Leviathan and Belphegor locked themselves up in their rooms doing their own activities. It’s all in a day of the life. And he really loved them for it.

Despite growing up in an environment with loud and dysfunctional people, it wasn’t a necessity to try and gain attention to himself. In fact, he couldn’t care less. He was content with sitting there watching everyone else interact. Usually the only things on his mind were exercising, spending time with his family, and food.

Ah yes, food. 

Both a curse and a blessing. 

As the avatar of gluttony, Beelzebub was given an eternal and everlasting greed for food. Like a continuous blackhole, his body disintegrated food as soon as it entered his stomach, leaving him to wish there was more. His stomach could never be satisfied or quenched, nor can his hunger ever be fulfilled. 

In its very essence; gluttony.

As much as his stomach has caused problems in the past- like Beel eating the entirety of the kitchen in one sitting, leaving none for his brothers- it also allowed Beel to pass the time and do something. It was like a comfort being able to chew on the foods he found delicious. Especially back when he didn’t have Belphegor to talk to. When he didn’t have Belphegor to spend time with.

He remembers laying in bed at night, staring blankly at his twin’s side of the room, wondering how he was doing or where he was. He hoped Belphegor was happy, he hoped he was safe, but most of all he hoped Belphegor missed him as much as he did. When he was gone, it felt like there were two black holes in Beel’s body; one in his stomach, and one in his heart.

And it really hurt.

The late hours of the nights was what Beelzebub dreaded the most. He knew every night his dreams would sweep him into more pain and anguish- he would dream about Belphegor or Lilith again with a faux sense of happiness, and he couldn’t bear it.

Those were the times he was thankful for his hunger. His stomach would rumble loudly in the dead of night, forcing Beelzebub to snap out of his dreams and get up to the kitchen to half-heartedly try and pursue being full.

Yet now that Belphegor was back home, he no longer felt happy to get up out of bed at night to sneak into the kitchen for another meal. It didn’t make him feel happy anymore, it just continued to bother him. Yet it was practically impossible to ignore it.

Thankfully, Beelzebub had something else to help soothe that ache.

You.

Even if his hunger could never be satisfied, being around you could at least make it bearable. He found himself being reluctant in getting up to go to the kitchen when you had accidentally fallen asleep on his arm. And perhaps that little bit of reluctance was what he needed to get his mind off of food.

Through the multiple months, almost a year and a half now, you had become increasingly important to him. At first he recognised how sweet of a person you were. A part of him was worried you’d be swallowed by the burdens and terror his brothers would put you through, and while there were definitely some ups and downs, they all adored you and your more motherly tendencies. It was something they were all lacking in their lives.

Unbeknownst to him though, his connections with you went further than just enjoying each other’s presence. Perhaps you two weren’t all that different; besides the obvious species you were both categorized into. You would openly laugh at his jokes, cook and bake food for him, never once judged him or gobbling down hordes of food in one sitting, you got along insanely well with Belphegor, you were artistic, kind, and intelligent in your own ways. There was a nagging curiosity that told him he should be spending more time with you. And with that curiosity, he found a plane of comfort and safety around you.

It was so instant. It really caught him off guard. 

But now you had made it into the top of his list on people he wanted to keep safe; someone very close to his heart.

And apparently you were out there somewhere on your way home. Yet no one could reach you.

Beelzebub didn’t have the heart to tell Mammon or Lucifer that he had also tried to call your phone several times today. Except, he only came to the surface-level conclusion that you must have been too busy to answer his calls. He had no clue you were alone out here.

If he was Lucifer, there would be multiple scenarios flinging through his mind on where you could be or what could have happened to you. As a natural pessimist, Lucifer might have imagined you already dead in a nearby alleyway by some delinquent demon who was out for human blood. Lucifer could be imagining the grimy hands of multiple demons taking you away- somewhere the brothers would have no way of finding you. Maybe part of Lucifer’s panic came from the fact that this would violate Diavolo’s direct order to keep you safe.

But Beelzebub was not Lucifer. Beel did not have a clear head, or a strategic way of thinking through problems. 

No, he was all action and instinct, which is probably why he was still running around the Devildom like a lost cause. Half of Beel’s conscience told him it would be worth the risk to wreck multiple buildings until he somehow would run into you. But he needed to stop the itch of destruction that threatened to climb out of him. Lucifer would only be more angry.

In the back of Beel’s mind he made a reminder to apologize to Lucifer for barging out of the house in the way that he did. But he couldn’t waste any more time when you still weren’t home. Especially since Beelzebub was the most adept physically and capably to track and find you.

Sniff, sniff.

Beelzebub paused in the middle of a random city square, sniffing the air like a bloodhound dog. On a normal day this should be easy for him, but the drizzling rain made it more difficult to pinpoint your scent. A familiar scent of dough and bread made its way into his nostrils. The bakery is about two miles north, and the cafe that we went to a few days ago is a few feet away. Oh God, he couldn’t smell people though, were you already taken?? Who would take you? Who would hurt you? Beel could feel the blood pounding in his heart, and he forced himself not to panic. 

Beelzebub took another deep breath, sniffing the air rather loudly, trying to pinpoint exact locations. He could smell sweets, a diner filled with dishes of steak and chicken, and some booze. 

His stomach grumbled loudly, mixing with the noises of distant thunder. He couldn’t get angry. He needed to calm down.

Sniff, sniff.

He perked up, head shooting towards a pathway swallowed by complete darkness. That smelled like Asmodeus’s perfume...

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

Raindrops flecked at your face, dotting the surface of your eyes. 

Of course tonight of all nights, the Devildom would decide to sprinkle a little bit of rain just to make your night a little better.

Everlasting darkness was a permanent feature that came along with the Devildom, and although it took some getting used to, you really didn’t seem to mind it anymore. The sunshine was a wonderful thing; and something that you yearned and missed from back in the human world. But it was something you could live without.

In your opinion, rain was something you could live without too.

You huffed, swiping the light rain from your eyelashes with the palm of your hand in order to try and see the road ahead of you. You were already so tired as it is. The need for your warm and cozy bed where you can fall asleep and get ready for tomorrow was what kept you moving forward. How long did it fucking take to get home??

Tsk, tsk.

A nagging feeling in your guts caused you to look over your shoulder, staring desperately into the shadows lined across buildings and alleyways. After a minute of silence, you turned back around to continue your way to the House of Lamentation. It was probably nothing anyways… you’ve been hearing sounds this entire time and never once had you run into another demon.

Another glance at your dead phone told you that you needed to hurry back.

You cursed yourself for forgetting to charge your phone before heading to bed last night. That’s what some late night gaming with Leviathan will do to you… And yet you could only blame yourself for being unable to reach 5 cm to plug your phone into the charger before knocking out.

Somewhere in the distance, lightning forked across the sky, followed by thunder loud enough to make your ears ring.

Another glance over your shoulder told you that no one was following you.

You kept on walking, looking up into the street name that you were passing onto now. A small grin on your face as you recognized the dark and washed out street sign. Ha! You were going in the right direction.

For a moment you could hear the hushed whispers of people… and something else.

Breathing.

You had no time to react. Like the lightning above, you felt yourself getting yanked into the alleyway you were just about to pass. You let out a shriek, your heart practically jumping out of your throat as you were thrown against a nearby wall of the alleyway. From the miracle of some vision you had left through the darkness, you were able to make out three figures that occupied the space in front of you, blocking your means of escape. Their heads were decorated with individually different horns, and you knew instantly that they were demons.

Fuck.

You weren’t sure you could even survive a fight with one of these guys, let alone three of them.

The buildings that sandwiched you and the three demons acted like a barrier, shielding you and them from the rest of the world.

“See? I told ya she was a human!”

One of the demons had whispered to the other ones, particularly the middle one, who had his eyes trained on you. He must have been the one to pull you into the alleyway, away from prying eyes.

“Yeah dipshit, we already knew…”

Sweat trickled down the back of your neck and your hands suddenly felt slick, despite how chilly it was outside.

The demon in the middle ignored the banter between the other two, instead choosing to lean in a little closer to you. “Hey little lady, what are you doing out here all alone?” he had a sickeningly sweet tone to his voice, seemingly studying your face. You had no clue if he could even see you clearly from the dark. His constant movements closer to your face made you feel nauseous as you attempted to move back as far as you could with a damn wall behind you.

Your mouth felt too dry for speaking. What did they want? Money? Directions?

You almost laughed at the ridiculous humor of demons needing directions from a human in their own town. Would they really take out the time of their day to yank you off the street for directions?

“I… I-I um was just.. On my way home..” you had attempted to speak with confidence, but it seemed your body had other ideas in showing that. Your voice cracked multiple times, and judging by their waiting faces, you weren’t even sure they heard you.

“On your way home?? Do humans even live here?” the one in the back snickered, trying to lean on the one in the middle to also try and get a better look at you as well. All three of them seemed captivated by the fact that you were a human girl. As if they’d never seen one before. It made you feel small and sick to your stomach. Even though they were simply asking questions right now, people don’t normally pull you into an alleyway just to talk. So what the hell did they want??

“Treta shut the fuck up,” the one in the middle hissed again, elbowing his partner to get him off of his shoulder. You could hear the demon huff as if he had been struck in the stomach.

You swallowed, hearing the blood from your heart pump in your ears. “W-Well uh it’s nice to meet you all, but I should really be getting on my way… My friends are waiting for me,” you mustered up the courage to speak, your eyes nervously flitting back and forth between them.

The demons didn’t seem to want to back off though, as much as you wanted to sprint out of there. “Do ya want us to walk you home sweetheart?” the middle demon spoke up once again. He seemed to be the one most in control regarding their little group.

He also had a pungent smell in his breath, one that you couldn’t put a finger on… It could have been cigarettes.

“Um no.. I’m really sorry… I think I’ll be okay though,” you gave them a shaky smile, praying that it’ll be enough to convince them to leave you alone. You must have been naive to think it was though, because they made no sudden movements to give you some space.

“I don’t think it’ll be okay at all. I want to spend more time with you,” he replied, making you want to yell in frustration. Why couldn’t they take a hint?? 

You opened your mouth to protest, but the demon had beat you to it. “Not to worry, we can make this conversation quick. Or maybe we can head back to our place,” he gripped your upper arm, leaving you to try and jolt out of his much stronger grip. The other two acted like this was normal, practically standing around you in a ring formation. You were trapped. This situation was already uncomfortable as it is, but you felt more restricted with this stranger gripping your arm in a vice-like hold. 

“E-Excuse me!” you spoke up, trying to keep a clear head, your other hand reaching over to attempt to pull the demon’s hand off of you. The attempts were futile however, and you were left there looking pathetic in trying to move something that won’t budge. “I’m trying not to be rude right now, b-but I’m very uncomfortable. I seriously don’t have time for this, please just leave me alone…”

The guy in the middle inched closer to your face, your noses practically touching as you stared up at him. Your eyebrows creased in fear and frustration. As much as you wished he could understand how frightened you were right now, his morals still appeared to be low in the dirt as he simply narrowed his eyes at you. “Why are bitches so sensitive? We’re not asking you to fuck us, we’re just trying to talk with you.”

One of the other demons off to the side decided to butt in aggressively. “What the fuck is the problem? We’re just standing here, shit.”

You really didn’t know what to say in response. You tried to give yourself space, you tried being nice to them, you tried telling them to leave you alone. From the sounds of your breathing, you could tell you were inhaling and exhaling heavily. No matter how much you moved your arm, you couldn’t get it out of his grip. And based on the fact that they were demons, there was no way you could possibly overpower one physically. You couldn’t even move enough to try and grab the pepper spray you kept in your coat pocket.

Something inside you shrank at the sight of them.

They just looked so… hostile.

“You know, you’re really cute for a human. And this is a cute skirt,” the other one chuckled, running his fingers up and down your leg dangerously close to your thigh. Your jaw tensed up, and you cringed physically, too afraid to breathe or move. Any gestures you made weren’t taken well, and as soon as you tried to swat his hand off of your leg, his hand just clamped onto your upper leg tighter forcing your skirt up higher than it should be.

Okay now was a good time to panic. Your heart rate hasn’t managed to slow down at all yet, giving you time to think that you might die from a heart attack before these demons would be able to get you. As dark as it is, you could still see the road on your right, lit up by a dim streetlamp. Maybe if you pushed with your full body force, you could make a run for it. Or maybe… if you screamed loud enough someone out there would hear you.

“P-Please stop,” you croaked out, anchoring your face away from the two on the left to try and desperately look for an exit. 

Again, your statement fell on deaf ears. You couldn’t tell who did it, but one of them suddenly tore off the scarf Asmodeus had given to you this morning. It’s beautiful pink color was thrown against the dirty floor of the alleyway. “Just relax,” he drawled. “You’re wearing too much right now, let’s remove some layers.”

“Stop it!! I told you I-” you squirmed even more now, not caring if his grip was tight enough to bruise your arm. You just wanted their grimy hands to stop touching you. A hand slammed down on your mouth, keeping any noise from escaping your lips; the force of it knocking your head back against the brick of the building.

“Shhhhh! Keep quiet or we’ll fucking kill you.”

You couldn’t believe this. The one time you had to walk alone, and this happens. You knew you should have waited for someone to pick you up. You knew you should have turned back to find Diavolo or something. You knew you should have asked someone to stay after school with you; someone like Beelzebub who would never say no to helping you when you needed it. Maybe if he were here with you, you could be enjoying your walk home this late at night.

Hot tears bubbled up in your eyes, and you could feel the contrast of the cold night air against the warm tears sliding down your face. You almost couldn’t breathe anymore.

“Now let’s-” the demon in the middle was cut off as a giant hand reached from the shadows to wrap it’s digits around the demon’s throat. 

All four of you had flinched, not realizing that someone else had been in the alley with you this entire time. And now that you could see it, you felt blind for not having noticed the giant man standing behind the demons. He was kind of difficult to not notice.

Whoever he was, he was huge, towering over you and the three delinquent demons despite the fact that he looked to be hunched over.

He wasn’t just huge, he looked solid and muscular, and probably all of you realized that there would be no chance wrestling away from this guy.

The middle demon made a gurgling noise, most likely due to the fact that his entire body was being hoisted off of the ground by just his neck. All the air compressed in your chest was lifted like a curse as the demon chose to let go of your arm to instead trade its place to claw at the hand wrapped around his neck. He was desperate for air, scratching at the stranger’s hand. 

He didn’t budge.

Whoever the hell this was, his grip on the middle demon was tight. So tight that you could see the veins and muscles popping out of the struggling demon’s neck.

The demon’s face was turning red.

He was scrambling to breathe.

His chest looked like it was palpitating.

For some reason you still couldn’t move, watching with wide eyes as the life began draining from the demon’s face.

“Hey!! What the fuck?!”

You think it may have been the demon on your left, but he had finally snapped out of whatever daze he may have been in, dashing forward to try and aim a well pivoted punch towards the unknown savior. 

Like a reflex, the shadow dropped the choking demon, who was left hacking and coughing on the cold pavement. He was greedily swallowing the air now. And in return, the shadow gripped the fist of the demon who threw the punch. In an instant, he caught the punch midair, proceeding to crush the demon’s fist as if it was plastic. 

The demon let out a strangled cry, and you could hear the bones in his hands breaking with a sickening crunch. You covered your mouth to prevent yourself from gasping, gnawing on your tongue as you watched the two demons struggle with their new injuries. 

Perhaps the third demon was the smartest, as he made no sudden moves to try and attack the much larger figure. 

“Leave.”

You blinked suddenly, eyebrows shooting up as you instantly recognized the voice. 

Without another word, the uninjured demon rushed down to pick up his friend. He leaned over to pull his buddy up to his feet, making a run out of the alleyway with the third demon on their tails as if their lives depended on it.

Now… you were left standing here alone with the man who had saved you.

Apparently it was still raining… Apparently you had stopped noticing.

Quickly you wiped the tears from your face with the fronts of your palms.

He was breathing heavily- probably just as heavily as you were- as you both stared at each other in silence for a moment. By the ragged breaths he was taking, it seemed like he had run all the way out here.

And when he stepped closer, close enough that you could see his face, you felt your pulse quicken.

That familiar tuft of red hair, the familiar voice, those familiar purple eyes you were so used to seeing.

“Beel!!” you exclaimed, pushing yourself off of the wall to throw yourself on the demon. Words could not even begin to describe how happy you were to see him again, how glad that he had stepped in when he did. The thought alone that he came out here to look for you made you want to cry.

Unlike the expression he had just a few moments ago, Beel’s face instantly relaxed as he had opened his arms enough to encase your body. You honestly didn’t care that he had to crouch a little more to reach your height. Instead, you chose to bury your head in his neck for some sense of comfort.

Even with all the rain and the heavy winds beginning to pick up, Beelzebub was still a radiator of warmth as you clung onto him, body shaking with little sobs. 

And he let you.

Despite you being the one to grapple onto Beel for dear life, his reciprocated grip was just as tight around you, making you wonder in the back of your mind that he might have missed you just as much as you had missed him.

There was a moment or two of complete silence, and once you felt like you got all of your sadness out of your system, you pulled away just enough to look him in the eye. “How did you find me here?!”

Beelzebub sheepishly shrugged, giving you another one of his little smiles to aid in your body calming down. 

The worst was over now… You were going to be fine.

“I sort of just… followed a scent,” he finally replied shortly, pulling away to let you go pick up the pink scarf that was sitting on the ground. Its fabric was wet and dirty, the rain allowing for the med and grime to stick to the once beautifully clean scarf.

You grumbled to yourself, saddened by the fact that the scarf Asmodeus had so graciously given you to keep warm was all ruined.

Those jerks.

But even then… you couldn’t find it in yourself to complain. Instead, you glanced over at Beel who was preoccupied on a phone call with someone who appeared to be yelling at him. 

“Y-Yes, I found her…. We’re on our way home right now…”

Beelzebub’s shoulders were tensed up and a look of guilt crossed his face in a pout as he was getting yelled at over the phone. He looked like a completely different person now; his serious exterior was replaced with a cowaring expression as he was scolded. You assumed the man over the phone was Lucifer…

There was still a light-hearted part of you that wanted to laugh at the sight of someone as frightening and strong as Beelzebub being reprimanded- but your exhaustion prevented it. Honestly, all you could think about was curling up in bed and going to sleep.

And perhaps you wouldn’t have been able to if Beel hadn’t found you.

You paused for a moment, studying the redhead with a light smile. A tugging feeling was replaced in your chest, as you had the sudden urge to do something a little bold. Making your way over to him, you stood up on your tiptoes to give him a light kiss on the cheek. It snapped him out of his conversation with Lucifer, causing him to look down at you with wide, confused eyes. 

“Thank you by the way,” you mumbled, nervously picking at your fingernails, hoping the gesture could prove how thankful you were. 

You watched him swallow thickly before putting on a smile and speaking to you once again. “You’re welcome… now, I think we should go home.”

And you couldn’t agree more.

#obey me x reader #obey me x mc #obey me #obeyme #beelzebub x reader #beelzebub x mc #lucifer #mammon #asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me asmodeus

[r--at]

Can you do 18 with Gen z humor 🛀🔥

18: MC with gen z humor

Warnings: Cussing, some dark humor

Lucifer

He would be so annoyed at first.

Would be shook if you talked back to him.

Lucifer: MC...Mammon I swear if you two don't stop I'll-

MC: Bitch I hope the fuck you do, you'd be a damn ass son of a bitch if you tried

Lucifer: . . .

Mammon: . . . Yeah- what they said.

He is just in pure shock because of the amount of audacity one person can hold.

He is going to be so concerned about how many depressing jokes they make.

Super confused and definitely wonders if this is normal fo humans to find this kind of stuff funny.

Some comebacks he may find humorous, he just won't let you feel the power of seeing him amused.

Sometimes he has to power walk back to his room to hold back from laughing.

Mammon

He is also confused and freaked out with all the things they find funny.

He is terrified of them at first with all the things they laugh at, and he's like: did they just laugh when that child fell?

Though the thing that brings him closer to you is probably going to be the fact that not only are you brave enough to talk back to anybody, your talking back is also hilarious.

He'd turn into even more of a headache if your humor rubbed off on him.

Random demon: That's why you're broke, maybe if you learned how to save your mone-

Mammon:

MC: That's why yo mama dead, dead as hell, what money does she have huh? What money does she have in her casket? That's why yo granny ain't got no knees, she can't pray to jesus bitch.

Mammon bullying is not tolerated over here.

Oh you thought he was clingy? Well now you have the sin of greed clinging to your legs whenever he gets into trouble.

Leviathan

Yes yes yes

Someone that shares at least, close enough, his own humor.

Meme spamming, just randomly throughout the day you'll just spam eachother with memes.

Joke about each others mental illnesses together, perfect bonding time.

I can see you two yelling that yeet skrt song.

Levi:Yeet

MC:Yeet skrt

Levi:Yeet Yeet

MC:Skrt

Levi:Skrt skrt

MC:Roll up

Levi:Yeet

MC:Drop that

Levi:Yeet

MC:Skrt that

Levi:Pop that

MC:Aye Aye

Levi:Aye Aye

MC: You never loved me mom, but I needed you ~woah~

Satan

Definitely thinks you are a headache at first.

Would start to like you after seeing you talk back to Lucifer.

Would definitely invite you to prank Lucifer.

Your bonding time consists of roasting Lucifer or just random demons you dont like.

Satan: *calling Lucifer*

MC:

Lucifer: Yes?

Satan: *nods to MC*

MC: This is for Lucifer, you big fat, white nasty, smelling fat bitch

Why you took me off the motherfuking schedule with your trifling dirty white racist ass big fat bitch

And maluma body ass bitch.

Asmodeus

This is fine. This is fine. Did you just laugh after running into that door and getting a bloody nose?

Asmo....You just....Concern him.

But he will still hang around you because, bad bitch energy.

Will hype you up if you are arguing with a random demon again.

MC: You can't kill me, I'm a bad bitch.

Lucifer:

Asmo: Yes queen!

The jokes about trauma and darker, depressing stuff however, he is just kinda awkwardly laughing to play along because he doesn't know what to do.

Beelzebub

After every single bad or depressing joke you make about yourself, you will recieve a hug. You can't refuse.

Highly concerned about why you are laughing at such weird things...didn't you nearly fall down the stairs a second ago?

Will definitely watch over you like you are a child, to make sure you dont hurt yourself.

No offing yourself jokes tolerated in this facility.

MC: Y'know if I ate 480 bananas I wouldn't have to worry about doing my homework.

Beel: ..Why's that?

MC: I'd be dead.

Beel: Don't you do it.

And that's why the House of Lamentation ran out of bananas, and why Beel will no longer let you near them.

Belphegor

Just don't exsist too loudly, he has to get his hundreds of depression naps in.

Wouldn't mind you at first, unless he heard you laughing too loud.

10/10 Would drag you into some prank involving Lucifer as the victim.

Would probably joke about murder or mental illnesses with you.

But don't worry he wouldn't actually murder you. Or well, he wouldn't again.

MC: Hey Lucifer, what's red and bad for your teeth?

Lucifer: *sigh*

Lucifer: What?

MC: A brick.

Belphie: This is a threat.

Belphie will make sure you two leave Lucifer with an even worse headache than before.

Diavolo

This is okay, this is fine, this is normal, wait- was that supposed to be funny?

So confused.

Never knew humans could find such odd things so humorous.

Bad bitch? What's that? Definitely ended up asking Lucifer or Barbatos about it.

What in the chaotic energy is this.

Diavolo: And then they laughed...

Barbatos: MC laughed after having a breakdown about her grades?

Barbatos: That's not that bad.

Diavolo: I think I heard her say she wanted to kill herself...and then laughed again...

Barbatos:. . . Oh

Barbatos

Keep a straight face. Keep a straight face.

It's just some of the things you say make him internally die of laughter, not like you could tell.

He is slightly concerned when you start banging your head against the desk, or the wall, when you recieve your test grades back.

Solomon: You are so easy to piss off

MC: And you're so easy to make insecure, wait until I tell you about your big ass of a-

Barbatos:

Barbatos: *Internally wheezing*

On the outside he doesn't have much to any reaction to anything you say, but sometimes on the inside he is trying so hard to keep himself from laughing.

Solomon

He understands your humor...but sometimes its just... its...so random.

He's kinda just like wondering if he should get you to a therapist when you go back.

Asmo: And then he told me that pink just didn't fit me. Can you believe that!?

Solomon: Well-

MC: The lion, the witch, and the audacity of this bitch.

How have you not died? Just how.

With how much he see's you going off on people its just a wonder.

Simeon

This isn't funny MC-

Making fun of yourself is not okay.

Super confused on how you find literally any of this funny.

MC, you can do better, go read the bible, your humor needs it.

MC: look at this bitch. So gross. How do you live with yourself. Your life is a mess. Go see a therapist. You need some antidepressants or something!?

Simeon: Um..MC...That's your reflection.

MC: Chile anyways-

Hey, hey, hey no offing yourself jokes MC, this isn't funny, this isn't okay, no. No. No. Stop it.

Probably contemplates taking you to church at least five times a day.

Luke

Why're you laughing.

Please stop. This isn't funny MC.

Never watches horror movies with you. Ever.

MC this isn't supposed to be funny- why're you laughing after someone told you to burn in hell?

So concerned, scared, and confused.

Luke: MC- this isn't supposed to be funny?

Luke: Why are we watching this?

MC: Did you- *wheeze* Did you see the way that bitch just tripped while trying to run away?

No more horror movies, and no more unsolved murder documentaries for you MC.

#obey me luficer #obey me satan #obey me leviathan #obey me #obey me mammon #obey me asmodeus #obey me barbatos #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphie #obey me diavolo #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me luke #obey me simp

[simsadventures]

My Mysterious Girl

Summary: You are a hunter on a mission to find Azrael’s blade. You find it in an unlikely place, in the hands of the very Bucky Barnes, the infamous Winter Soldier. When you save him, and then disappear, Bucky does everything in his power to find you and learn about you.

Warnings: SPN x Avengers crossover, swearing, mention of death, mention of supernatural beings, fluff, smidge of angst (you look and it’s gone), more fluff

Pairing: Bucky x hunter!Reader, Dean x platonics!sister!Reader, Sam x platonic!sister!Reader

Word Count: 3422

A/N: So this story was requested my the 🦄 anon, and I know it’s coming a bit late… Sorry for that. I tried to make it better by writing a longer piece. I hope you’ll enjoy the SPN x Avengers crossover. I also combined a little of Lucifer there, the Azrael’s blade and all… I’ve been obsessed for days so I need to have an outlet for that xD

Whole request here: Yay! Alright, so I read a fic somewhere with a Marvel/Supernatural cross over and I love the idea so much. So, I was thinking like reader is a hunter (you can decide if she's a Winchester or not) and she runs into Bucky on a case who's there on a mission. It can be something like she has to retrieve a magical artefact or kill a monster or something, but Bucky's confused about it all and she just mysteriously disappears (because that's what hunters do). So, she disappeared and Bucky tries so hard to find her and like researches (or tries to) everything about the hunting lifestyle because he wants to find her again and like puts himself in harms way. Which of course pisses her off. If you don't want to do it, it's fine as well. I just thought it would be a good idea

Masterlist

“Oh, come on, Dean. I’m a big girl, and I can handle myself. I know what I’m doing, and I’m very capable of going there alone, and you know it!” You said exasperated because your oldest brother still treated you like a little child. You were now 25, far from a kid, but Dean refused to acknowledge that. And you were getting more and more pissed at him for that.

“Why do you have the need to go on a hunt alone? I’m aware that you’re one of the best in the game Y/N, but I’d feel better if you just waited after the vampire hunt that Sammy and I have in our schedules.”

You rolled your eyes and huffed out a breath. Your brother could be so frustrating it was surprising that you or Sam haven’t killed him yet. “It’s just an artefact retrieval, Dean. It’s an easy job for me, c’mon. You and Sam can take on the vampires, I’ll retreat the dagger, and maybe we all can rest for a bit before something new comes up.”

Dean seemed to be thinking, and just this little act gave you hope. Dean was usually the guy to dismiss everything without even a thought, so just the fact that he was willing to give this a little time was making you giddy.

It was not that you didn’t like to hunt with your brothers, you loved them both unconditionally. It was more that you could use some alone time. Spending your whole life on the road with your brothers could be fun, but it was also getting a little tiring. Dean wouldn’t let you drive even if it had to kill him. He also wouldn’t change up the music in the car, despite yours and Sam’s loud protests. And Sammy… he was sweet, and all, but Dean was right in one thing, Sam was gassy as hell.

So yeah, you could use some time just by yourself, listening to the music you liked, and not having to share a room with the two snoring idiots.

Dean sighed, and you came back to reality. You painted a pretty picture in your head, and you just hope your brother wouldn’t destroy it.

“Fine! But if anything happens, you call us, or Jody. If you feel like something else might be going down, if it’s not just simple retrieval, you call us. If some other hunters appear, you call us. If-“

“If I see a falling star, I call you, yeah I got it, Dean. I promise I’ll be fine. I’m just getting the blade, and I’m coming back home. I think I could be home in 5 days if everything goes according to plan. I’ll call you from the road and when I got there and then every time I’m not sure about something, or I just feel like it. I’ll be fine, Dean, I’ve been doing it long enough to be able to get one fucking blade.”

Dean smirked at you and pulled you into a bear hug. “I just don’t want to lose you Y/N, that’s all. Please, be careful.”

You kissed his cheek and patted his shoulder. “I will, I promise. But you two as well, ok? I’m not gonna have the time to pull your sorry asses out of trouble when I’m across the whole country.”

Dean rolled his eyes, but the little smile playing on his lips told you that he wasn’t taking you too seriously.

You separated from him and all but ran to your room to get your bags before Dean changed his mind. You only took the essentials, said a quick bye to Sam, who was happy for you that Dean allowed you to have a solo-mission. You also took your notes, trying to get all the information about Azrael’s blade into you.

You were studying it for months now, it being one of the few weapons being able to hurt all celestial beings. You and your brothers hoped that it included Chuck and were determined to find out. It constituted of three parts, and without you even knowing it, you already had one of them with you. The part which was giving it life, looking like a belt buckle. So now two parts remained to get. The actual sword and the key connecting the two parts. You knew that the last part would be the most difficult to get, but you’d cross the bridge when you come to it.

You found traces of the blade in New York City. Weird murders were reported and looking more into it, you and your brothers realised that it could have been the blade. All you needed to do was not to grab it by your bare hands, and you should be ok. Hopefully.

—-

You checked your phone again, trying to see if you got the address right. It was an abandoned warehouse in Brooklyn, a really shady looking place, and you weren’t too eager to enter. But you had no other choice. You had to prove to Dean and yourself that you could do this on your own. That you were strong and independent to go on solo hunts when you needed the space. So you sighed, braced yourself and walked towards the building.

Walking in, you tried to be careful, gun in one hand and a light in the other, trodding through the building. You could hear muffled voices from a room in front of you, and you didn’t waste a second. If there were people in the room, and they found the blade, many people could get in harm’s way. And you wanted to avoid that, if possible.

Kicking in the door, you stared at the unlikely image in front of you. In the dark room, which seemed to have served as some kind of an office before, three Avengers were facing you. Steve Rogers, aka Captain America himself, Sam Wilson, the Falcon, and Bucky Barnes, the famous Winter Soldier. You knew them from the newspaper and the television, never thinking you would actually meet them.

While these men fought the aliens and such creatures, you tried to protect the Earth from its own monsters. You knew that the Avengers encountered a few vampires and werewolves, telling the wide audience about it, which you and your brothers were actually glad they did. Maybe people would be more careful now that it came from the Earth’s mightiest protectors.

You snapped back to reality when a vicious growl left Bucky’s lips. Your eyes found the blade in his hands, gripping it tightly and the bloodlust it called for visible in his blue eyes. You cursed under your breath and made your way toward him. Captain and the Falcon would probably stop you, had they not been occupied by their friend, who was now attacking them.

While they were busy fighting, you sneaked behind Bucky’s back. He was too busy with trying to kill his pals that he didn’t see you coming, and when you jumped on his back and kicked his arm with all your strength, making him drop the blade, he grunted, surprised.

As if a fog was lifted off his brain, Bucky realised where he was and what was going on. Did he really try to kill Steve and Sam just because they made fun of him in the car? They did things far worse than that on a daily basis, and he never lusted for their blood as much as he did a few moments ago. He also realised that there was another person in the room, and the person was currently getting off his back.

“Well, now that that’s out of the way, I’ll handle this devilish little thing, gentlemen.” You said and made your way towards the blade, but a hand on your shoulder stopped you.

“Who are you, and what is this thing?” It was Sam, holding you with his brows cocked, a perplexed look painted on his face.

“Right. I’m sorry. My name is Y/N Winchester, and I came here for this sword. It’s called the Azrael’s blade, and when misused, it turns the smallest grudge into a bloodlust. And I’m here to take it to safety.”

The three of them cringed and looked at the blade and then back at you. “A what blade? And how do you know about it? This something they teach at schools now or what?” Bucky’s eyes looked like they would fall out of their sockets.

You chuckled and shook your head, all while you put on the special gloves that Cas made for you before you went. You lifted the blade and looked at it from up close, seeing the beautiful simple handle, imagining the embroiled “belt buckle” that was already sitting in the bunker’s storage.

“I’m a hunter, you see? While you take care of Thanos, and shit, I take care of ghosts, vampires, ghouls, and others. And this little guy is one of the few weapons being able to destroy celestial beings, and we could use that right now.”

The boys obviously didn’t “see”, and they kept asking you question after question, trying to get to the bottom of the thing. It was especially Bucky, getting closer and closer to you, until he stood mere inches from you, still listening intently about what you had to say about your job. He was so intrigued he didn’t even recognise when Steve and Sam left eh building, telling him that they’d wait for him at the compound.

You smiled at him, being mesmerised by his whole being. His tall, broody figure called for something deep inside you, but you knew all too well that with your chosen life, and probably even with Bucky’s it would be almost irresponsible to start something you wouldn’t be able to finish.

But when he asked you to go and get a drink with him, you couldn’t refuse.

“So, tell me. Why would you do something so dangerous willingly?” Bucky asked, nursing a beer in his hand. You laughed at him, and when he gave you a confused look, it made you laugh even harder.

“You’re asking me this? Aren’t you doing the exact same thing, just fighting different monsters? I can’t stay away when I know what things roam this planet. I like it enough to want to stay here for a little longer.”

Bucky nodded and kept watching the beverage in his metal hand. He knew you were right, what he really wanted to ask was why a beautiful girl like you was doing fighting gruesome monsters. But he didn’t want to see too forthcoming. So he kept to himself.

“So, why do you still fight the battles which don’t have to be yours any longer?”

He smiled sadly and scooted a little closer to you so that the two of you could have a private conversation in the crowded bar.

“I guess the same thing as you, Y/N. And besides, I’m not good at anything else but being a soldier.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Bucky. I bet that if you wanted, you could do pretty much anything. But I get it. I’m not sure that even if I wanted to, I would be able to choose a different path in my life. We’re exactly where we’re supposed to be,” you said with a smile and bumped into him with your shoulder.

Bucky looked down at you, with sparkles in his eyes. You were the first woman he’s felt comfortable with ever since he woke up from the nightmare he called his previous life. You had some kind of light in you, something he wasn’t able to ignore as easily as he would like to. And the more he thought about, the less he wanted to ignore the chemistry between the two of you.

He realised there has been silence for a bit too long, but also that he wanted it to last a little longer. He bowed down slightly, to be on your level, and when your eyes glanced at his lips and lingered there, he knew you felt the same thing he did.

He closed the space between you and kissed you with all he had. It took your breath away, and you never wanted it to stop. His lips were so soft and plump and felt like literal heaven, or, at least, what you imagined heaven felt like.

Bucky’s hand found its way to your cheek, caressing it in the process, igniting a little fire wherever his skin touched yours. But like all good things, even this must have ended.

You pulled away, panting heavily, your gaze clouded with burning desire. But you needed to stop your thoughts before you went down the road there was no escaping from. You needed to get away from there before you dug an even deeper hole for yourself and your heart. You excused yourself, telling Bucky that you needed to use the restroom.

You felt horrible for doing it, but you weren’t the one-night type of girl, and you couldn’t let yourself fall in love with this famous soldier. Because from what your heart and brain have been telling you the whole night, it wouldn’t be difficult to catch feelings.

You looked at him from the door to the restroom, seeing the smile on his lips and hating yourself even more. But it needed to be done. For both your sakes. You slid into the room and looked at the window at the top left corner. It would be a narrow fit, but you could do that. Your heart gave a painful squeeze knowing what you were leaving behind.

—-

It’s been three months since you ran away from Bucky. That night, he thought you were kidnapped, or something, but the later it got, the more he realised that you probably just ran away from him. Did he say something? Did he do something? Was the kiss too much? Wasn’t it enough? His mind was whirling and the time spent apart from you was doing nothing in soothing his pain.

He liked you. He really really did. And he had the feeling you reciprocated it all. So why would you suddenly disappear?

While thinking about you, he tried to get to the bottom of your job. A hunter. He’s never even heard of anyone like that, and he’s been travelling the Earth left and right. From what you said, he got that it was an insanely important job, protecting people just like he did. But while he did all that was in his power to stop mostly inhumane forces coming here from outer space, or some human scumbags (*cough cough hydra*), you were struggling with something much more unnatural. Almost, supernatural.

He searched the internet, finding cases which you told him about, and getting more mesmerised by you by the second. He needed to find you. You were one of a kind, and he would not waste such an opportunity. Bucky wanted to be happy, searched for happiness ever since Hydra released its claws from him, but until now, he couldn’t find it. And when he finally did, he wasn’t gonna give it up that easily.

Bucky knew himself and knew that if he was good at something, it was tracing and hunting people down. If he thought of you as his next mission, things would be easier, and he could find you that much faster. Which is precisely what he did.

—-

You were lounging in the library, trying to figure out where the last part of Azrael’s blade could be. Whenever you thought about the damn blade, your mind wandered to one specific person, and every time you tried to shut it down. Even though it’s been almost 4 months, you still couldn’t forget about him. The icy blue eyes were the one thing keeping you from relaxing sleep, always appearing in front of you, relentless in their effort to give you as many restless nights as they could.

You still remembered the feeling of his lips on yours, touching your lips unconsciously as your mind went back to your happy place. Gosh! You met the guy once, and he was your happy place? Ugh, get a grip, Y/N! He’s just another guy!

But the little nagging voice at the back of your head told you that he could have been so much more, have you given him the chance to prove it.

Your brothers could see the slight change in you, being much more fidgety and restless ever since your solo trip to New York. They tried not to comment on it, knowing that your temper could get the better of you and things would be flying. But they were worried, you could see that much in their eyes.

Your eyes were roaming the pages of an ancient book sitting comfortably in your lap when you heard a loud banging from the “front door”. It startled you so much that the book fell to the ground with a loud thud. You cursed the whole universe and your brothers for going on a supply run, while somebody was out there, trying to get inside.

You looked at the cameras that were outside and a breath hitched in your throat. Bucky.

You cautiously went to the door, and when you quickly opened them, you poured holy water on Bucky. When you saw that it didn’t burn him (so, no demon), you threw salt at him, which was also not working (no ghost, then). Just in case, you put a silver spoon against the hand that was now getting rid of the salt on his outfit, and when it didn’t burn him (no shifter or a werewolf), you let all of the things go, just standing there, gaping at him.

“You done or do you want to stab me and see if I bleed red, just in case?” Bucky said with a smirk. Thanks to his research, he knew why you did all of the things. And he even expected them, just no without a hello from you and didn’t expect the holy water to be splashed right into his face.

“‘M, sorry. One can never be too careful. What are you doing here, Bucky? Or better yet, how the hell did you find this place?” You stepped away from the door, letting him in your home.

“I’ve been doing this for so long, doll, I can find anyone. One little hunter and her two huge brothers are an easy job for me. Now, to the more pressing question. Why did you leave that night, without even saying goodbye?”

He looked genuinely sad and disappointed, and it made your heart sank even lower. You never meant to hurt him, but you never realised that by trying to avoid your own heartbreak, people could get hurt.

“That’s what we do, you know? I’m not really good at saying goodbyes, and I’m not sure that if I tried, I wouldn’t want to leave ever again. And so I left while I could. I’m sorry,” you said, looking at the floor, finding it suddenly extremely interesting.

Bucky sighed and reached for your chin, lifting it up till you were looking at him.

“I get it. I really do. But I need you to promise me not to do it again. I know that you’re feeling the things I’m feeling, I can see it in your eyes. Let’s try it together, let’s give this, whatever it is, a shot. I think we both deserve to be happy and for me? I don’t think I could be happy with anyone else.”

You tried to find any sign of lying behind his eyes, try to find that he was just joking and he would leave you, just like everyone except your brothers did. But you couldn’t find any of that. His eyes were honest and full of warmth, and you felt yourself getting lost in them.

It wasn’t until his lips touched yours again that you knew exactly what you needed to do.

You pulled away, and Bucky looked at you, shocked and scared. He probably thought he misread some signs and that this wasn’t what you wanted. But when you gave him the sweetest smile, his worries melted away. And so did yours. For the first time in your life, you felt like you had a real choice, and there was no doubt in your mind that the choice you were making was the right one.

“Let’s do this!”

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[thinkyoureholy]

Soul Eater [15]

.

.

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Pairing : Jung Yunho / [fem] Reader

Genre : Angst, Violence, Lamguage, Fluff, Smut, Character Death, Demon! AU

Words : 4.4k

Previous Part. - Next Part.

[warning :mentions of domestic abuse ahead!]

≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ──── ≪

-Y/N’s P.O.V-

I pounded on the bars of the cage as hard as I could but they wouldn’t budge, they hardly even rattled. I let out a cry of frustration, sinking to the ground. I bit down on my bottom lip harshly, drawing blood.

“Wrath! You bastard! You’ll pay for this I swear it!” I shouted at the top of my lungs.

It was pitch black all around me, not a single ray of light anywhere to be seen. I hugged my knees to my chest, burying my face into my knees as I tried to keep my mind busy. I knew what this would lead to and it scared me more than anything. Everything that had been going on had distracted me from my thoughts, the memories I was trying to run from but now--now I can hear them crawling their way out. I shook my head to rid myself of them, clasping my hands over my ears to block out his voice but it was no use.

~

“Y/N...what are you doing? Didn’t you hear me ask you to bring me a mug of ale?” He asked.

I jumped at the sound of his voice muttering an apology under my breath, bringing the ale over to him. I went to leave but before I could he had reached out and grabbed me, his fingers weaving through my hair. He gave a hard tug, pulling at my hair from the roots. A whimper fell from my lips, my vision blurring as tears filled my eyes but I willed them not to fall. He pulled once more, a cry leaving my mouth this time. 

He drew me closer to him, his lips inches from mine, “Don’t ever make me repeat myself again, do you understand?”

I nodded but that only made him pull harder, the pain almost unbearable but it was nothing compared to what he could really do.

“Speak.”

“Yes. I’m--I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” I answered, my voice trembling.

“You better hope it doesn’t...for your sake.” He hissed before letting me go.

……

He chuckled darkly as I held the poker that we used to tend to the fire in between us. I was unsteady in my hold, my entire body shaking but I refused to back down. He had come home drunk from the local tavern and when I had asked him why he was gone for so long he snapped at me. His drunken self was worse than his sober self and that’s saying something. I couldn’t quite figure out why but he seemed to be stronger when he was drunk so his hand was much much heavier when he was intoxicated. I usually just silently take it because if I resist it’s just so much worse but tonight I couldn’t. If I let him go on any longer then he’d break me for sure. I had grabbed the poker on instinct but not that I had it in my hands I didn’t know what to do.

“Y/N...come on now...put that down. You don’t want to hurt yourself now do you?” He spoke in a sickening sweet voice but I knew it was all just an act.

I shook my head, holding on to the poker tightly, “Stay back…”

“Y/N. Put that down.” He said, no, ordered as he took a step forward.

“No! Don’t--Don’t come any closer!” I yelled, my voice steadier than I expected.

He stood back without saying a word, simply studying me but the look in his eyes told me he was anything but pleased, “You don’t know the kind of grave you just dug yourself do you?”

I didn’t bother giving him a response, my eyes wide with terror when he suddenly reached out and yanked the poker out of my hands. I immediately tried to make some distance between the two of us but I had my back to the wall with nowhere to run.

Help...please. Anybody...save me!

-3rd Person P.O.V-

Wrath hesitated the second he felt something was wrong. He gave a flap of his wings, distancing himself from Lucifer. He stood at the far end of the room, his eyes darting all over the place as he tried to figure out what was wrong. He staggered back, gasping for breath. He brought a hand up and clenched the fabric that lay over his chest, the pain he was feeling in his heart different to anything else he had ever felt. He grit his teeth, already knowing what was happening was Y/N’s doing.

“What the hell are you doing in there!?” He hissed through his teeth, keeping an eye on Lucifer.

He went to take another stand against him but the second he moved the feeling was back, worse than before. He felt like he couldn’t breath, his heart constricting in his chest. And that’s when he finally placed the feeling, its fear. But it was fear like he had never known before, this--this was pure unadulterated terror he was feeling and he knew exactly what was causing it.

“Y/N? Y/N...listen to me. You gotta calm down. Whatever is going on in there you gotta stay calm. He can’t hurt you anymore. He’s been dead for centuries. The man you’re seeing isn’t Sebastian, it's nothing more than a memory. He isn’t real.” Wrath spoke in a hushed voice, hoping his words got through to her.

He had been so focused on his fight with Lucifer he hadn’t been paying attention to what was going on inside until Y/N was crying out in pain...and fear. Just like Y/N was able to see Wrath’s memories he was able to see hers and hers...were much worse than anything he could’ve ever imagined. Sebastain, her husband, was a sick bastard that got a kick out of tormenting her every single day that she was married to him. Back then women didn’t really have a choice in who they married, people didn’t marry out of love, they married for power and Y/N’s family had basically sold her off to that monster for it. No wonder she forced herself to forget but even after trying so hard and all these years that have passed no one would ever be able to forget that kind of trauma.

Wrath exhaled slowly and reached into the deep recesses of their shared mind space where he had put her to keep her from interfering. Slowly, as if not to scare her he brushed his fingertips over the backs of her hands. She flinched back from his touch but that did nothing to deter him. He gently removed her hands from the sides of her head before he cradled her face in his hands. She was shaking in his hold, not daring to open her eyes but he needed her to look at him. 

“Y/N...open your eyes. It’s me...your buddy Wrath.” He spoke in a soft tone, chuckling at his choice of words for a moment before turning serious once more, “I won’t hurt you.”

And that’s when she finally opened her eyes. Wrath’s breath caught in his throat the second he saw the look in her eyes, the look tugging at his heartstrings. He sighed softly before placing his hands on her shoulders and in the next instant he brought her into his embrace. She clung to him like a child clinging to their mother after losing sight of her in a crowd. She buried her face in his chest, her sobs muffled as he patted the back of her head gently, trying to comfort her. 

“He can’t hurt you anymore, he’s long dead.”

She shook her head furiously, “You’re wrong. He lives on, in my mind. He haunts my every waking moment. He is the darkness I have never been able to escape.”

He shook his own head at that, pulling back to cup her face in his hands once more, “But you have a marvelous light to guide you now. You have Yunho to illuminate your life.” 

At the mere mention of his name her eyes brightened for just a moment but it was gone as quickly as it came, “No. I-I don’t deserve him.”

Wrath shook his head again, only more vigorously now, “You, more than deserve him. You, more than anyone deserves to be happy. You, who was cursed from the moment you were born. You, who had the misfortune of being my reincarnation. You, who has suffered through so much in your human life and suffered ten times more as a demon deserves to love. You need to hold on to that love you have for him, it might just be the only thing you have left.”

“But I’m no good for him.”

“But he is good for you. He makes you a better person. He lets you express yourself freely. He is what makes you human. He has done to you what Artemis did, no, has done for me.” He paused, swallowing the lump that has formed in his throat, “They are the anchors we need to keep us grounded and level-headed when our wicked instincts try and control us.”

Meanwhile on the outside, Wrath was still locked in a fight with Lucifer. Though his mind was with Y/N Wrath still fought with all his might and even if he wasn’t one hundred percent focused on the fight he was still winning. And the other sins were bearing witness to it all. 

“So it’s true. He’s weaker than Wrath and—and he always has been.” Envy let out in a whisper, stumbling over her own feet at the realization. 

Lucifer overhead her, angered by her words. He growled loudly, grabbing onto Wrath’s arm and throwing  him into the nearest pillar. The pillar collapsed, Wrath buried underneath it. In the next millisecond Lucifer had flown across the room and wrapped his hand around Envy’s throat. Sloth went to make a move but Lust reached out to grab his arm. 

“Wait.” He warned in a low voice. 

“He’ll kill her.” Sloth growled, about to prying Lust’s hand off of him but Lust just dug his claws into Sloth’s arm. 

“No he won’t get to. We stand no chance against him but they do.” Lust urged, drawing his gaze over to where the rubble and debris that had fallen over Wrath was moving. 

“Watch your tongue, Envy. I never really cared for you so killing you will be easy for me.” Lucifer growled out, sinking his claws into her neck. 

She clawed at his arm, trying to get him to let go but he only tightened his hold. Sloth was close to bursting but Lust held him back, glancing over at Wrath emerging from the pile of debris he was buried under but something about him seemed different. The body, Y/N’s body had changed, more so than it already had before. The hair that had been tied back now flowed freely past her shoulders, her hair color now a dark mahogany color, the red strands catching the light. Her eyes seemed to be a deeper red than before, they glowed more intimidating than ever. And her horns, they were bigger than hers but a bit smaller than Wrath's, the size now perfect, somehow signaling the balance they had found. The others only got to marvel at the change for a split second before they, no, she moved, faster than their eyes could follow. They didn’t know for sure but something told them that she was in full control. Y/N had fully absorbed Wrath into her. What they didn’t know is that in that short time they were buried under the debris of the pillar Wrath seceded to Y/N and let her kill Lucifer on her own and do what she thought was best after word, giving her all his strength.

-Y/N’s P.O.V-

I thrust a clawed hand forward, piercing Lucifer’s body through his back. A guttural grunt fell from his lips, his hold on Envy gone as she crumbled to the ground, Sloth immediately running to her side. I raised Lucifer up before throwing him across the room, skidding across the ground before the wall stopped him from moving, the cement one more hit from falling apart completely.

I hovered over the three that stared at me with wide eyes. As they looked at me I saw something that I had never seen before in their eyes, fear. I’ve seen resentment, contempt, and jealousy in their eyes before but never fear. The way they changed in an instant made a smirk play at my lips. Without thinking I reached out a clawed hand towards Lust but I never reached him. My hands was suspended in the air, a hand I recognized stopped me from going any further. I followed the arm the hand was connected to to find Pride at the end of it.

Her violet eyes glowed dangerously bright, a threatening snarl falling front her lips as she bared her teeth, “Touch him and you lose an arm.”

I raised a brow quizzically, my eyes darting from her to Lust who stared at her as much in shock as I was, that is until I figured out why she said that, “Ah...I see what’s going on here. Personally, I think you can do better than her.”

Her frowned at my words, a low growl emanating from deep within his throat, “Watch that tongue of yours before I cut it out of your mouth.”

I chuckled at his threat, knowing I could kill him before he even moved. With a look so cocky it’d piss off anyone that saw it I reached out to wrap my free hand around Pride’s neck, extending out a wing to stop Lust from moving any further. Sloth and Envy stood where they were but I  could tell that they were on edge too. They were all here...and when I say all I meant all but Greed but he was of use to no one in the condition he was in. Without even bothering to give her a glance I extended my other wing, curling the appendage around Gluttony in a vice grip as she tried to sneak up on me. 

“Wrath said he’d let you live if you didn’t defy him but let me tell you something about my dear friend...he lied.” I said, my grip tightening around bother Gluttony and Pride. Their groans mingled together as they struggled in my hold but I didn’t ease up, “I know Pride here chose to leave daddy dearest’s side but you all know I could never stand her. And I’ll never forgive her for the stunt she pulled with Yunho. I could kill you all with a simple snap of my wrist and I really want to. You have five seconds to change my mind before I start with our lovely Pride and Gluttony here.”

One.

Gluttony let out a cry, the sound of bones cracking reaching our ears. 

Two.

Pride gasped for breath, both hands now clawing at my arm.

Three.

Gluttony cried out in pain, a wet cough falling from her lips, pieces of her broken ribs piercing her lungs.

Four.

Pride’s hands fell limply to her sides, her strength leaving her as her face was turning blue at the lack of oxygen. Just as I was about to physically break the two I had in my hold Lust spoke.

“W-Wait!” 

My grip on the two loosened, the two gasping loudly the moment I did. I waited for Lust to continue, tilting my head to the side as curiosity filled me.

“Let--Let them go. I’ll take their place.” He said, his voice trembling as he spoke, his eyes glued to Pride for a good second before quickly glancing at Gluttony.

I couldn’t help but laugh at his words, “Take their place? You must not have understood me. You are all going to die either way. I told you to convince me, not try to be a hero. I’ll give you another chance but don’t squander it this time,” I squeezed the two in my hands once more, cries of pain leaving their lips.

“Fine! Fine. We’ll disappear. We won’t ever show up in front of you. We’ll hide, blend in with the humans if we have to but I promise you you’ll never see us ever again.” Lust said in a rushed tone, his hands out in front of him as if to stop me from doing anything rash.

“You promise? A promise from a sin means nothing and you know it.”

Without even giving it a second thought he slipped a necklace over his head, showing it to me, “We’ll give you these.”

“Lust...n-no…”

I looked at the necklace curiously, sticking out my hand so he could place it in my palm. These necklaces...so they're real? I’d only heard stories about them, but it made sense since I also had one. Each sin was said to have a pendant of their representative animal on a necklace hanging around their necks. No one thought they even existed since no has been able to get that close to a sin to even see it. These necklaces are said to be like a lifeline to the sins. One can’t kill them with the necklace per say…

But if I did this…? I asked myself as I closed my hand around the scorpion, squeezing it tightly.

The instant I did he collapsed, a howl so full of pain that it even sent a shiver down my spine fell from his lips. At the sound of his cries Pride started struggling again. I clicked my tongue before throwing her to the ground next to Lust. I let Gluttony down gently by Envy and Sloth who had been quiet this entire time. Having the necklaces will be good collateral for keeping them in line. My eyes scanned over the five of them, putting out my hand so they could give me their necklaces. Envy and Sloth gave me theirs without much of a fight, Envy helping Gluttony take hers off and handed it to me. I crouched down in front of Pride, waiting for her.

“I’ll kill you for this.” She growled as she placed the necklace in my hand.

I smirked at her words, plucking the scorpion out of the pile and holding it up for her to see, “I don’t think so. I know your weakness now. If I even so much as sense your presence he’ll be the one that suffers for it. Oh...and don’t even think about going after Yunho again. If you even try it I’ll torture you like you’ve never been tortured before...and then I’ll kill you.”

“Now get out of my sight, all of you.” I ordered, my eyes glowing as I glanced over all of them.

And with that they were gone. I looked down at the pendants in my hand for a moment before slipping the necklaces over my head. The necklaces felt heavy against my skin, the animals joining my wolf.

“I’m impressed. They don’t even fear me that much.”

I whipped around at the sound of his voice. Lucifer stood at the far end of the room, blood staining trickling down a cut on his cheek but he grinned through it. I took a step towards him to end this but I froze. No...no no no. This--this can’t be happening. How? When--when did he-

“Yunho…”

“Y/N?” He questioned, his eyes searching mine to see if it was really me.

That’s right...I look different now. This was my true form. After Wrath let me absorb him our features merged until they found a perfect balance. I shook those thoughts from my head, focusing on what was in front of me. Lucifer held Yunho by the arm, his claws ready to dig into his skin if I moved.

“Why? Why are you here!? Yunho, what the fuck are you doing here!?” I shouted, the emotions I was feeling coming out in my voice.

He flinched at my words but said nothing. Wait...I’ve seen this before but where? My knees buckled, staggering as the memory replayed in my mind. It's happening again, he’s pulling the same shit again! But if that’s true then- I whirled around, a gasp falling from my lips. I furrowed my brow at the pain that blossomed from my abdomen. Greed stood before me, almost fully healed now, glaring at me with nothing but hate in his eyes. I could hear Yunho yelling out for me but I blocked out his cries. I grit my teeth, grimacing as I tasted blood on my tongue but feeling it trickle down my chin.

“You didn’t really think you’d win in the end did you?” He asked in a low voice, a smirk playing on his lips.

I let out a wet cough, bringing my hands up to grab at his arm, digging my claws into his skin. He looked surprised at my strength, the smirk immediately disappearing from his face. I set my jaw as I pulled his hand out from out of my body, my blood dripping off of his hand onto the floor. He opened his mouth to speak but he didn’t get a word out before I killed him. I had extended my wings out behind me, bringing the wings to a point at the end, the soft feathers now as sharp as daggers. I plunged them into his back, pulling one up and the other down, cutting him up in an instant.

“I didn’t think I’d win...I knew I’d win.” I spat out, giving his body that was now in pieces on the ground one last look before turning around to face Lucifer.

The injury Greed had given me healed in seconds, the gaping hole in my stomach now gone. I took a step toward Lucifer, something flashing in his eyes for a moment before he shook it away. I could feel the aura I was emitting, my rage palpable. 

“You made a huge mistake bringing him here.” I growled, baring my teeth at Lucifer who just stood there without saying a word, “I’ll show you the true meaning of wrath before I finish you off once and for all, we’ve stalled this for far too long.”

Lucifer grit his teeth and shoved Yunho aside, morphing into the monster he truly was. He gave a flap of his wings, launching himself at me. Just as he was about to reach me I spared a glance at Yunho, giving him a soft smile, silently reassuring him that I’d get him out of here. Even if I somehow can’t beat Lucifer I’d get Yunho out of here. I didn’t need to be with him to teleport him out of here, all I needed was to focus and he’d go to wherever I wanted him to. But that was something I was keeping as a last resort, right now I had to focus on the task at hand. As long as Yunho stayed out of the way he’d be safe.

I cleared my mind of all thoughts as I focused my full attention at Lucifer, quickly stepping to the side to avoid him. He didn’t just fly by, instead he swung at me with his wing, throwing me across the room. Just as I was about to crash into something I gave a few flaps of my wings, halting my forward progress as I hovered in place. I was relatively unscathed by the attack, no even so much as a scratch on me. He seemed furious as he charged at me again. He swing forward, intent on landing a blow to my face but I blocked his fist with my arm, I shover him aside before swinging my own arm, landing a blow. The force behind the punch sent him to the floor, the tiles breaking as he sunk in. He let out a low growl, slamming a fist into the floor before he launched himself back up into the sky. I met him halfway, the two of us clashing. I chuckled as I realized how well I was doing in keeping up and I wasn’t just keeping up, I was winning. I was landing more punches, my claws taking chunks out of him faster than he could heal. I grinned like a maniac the longer we fought, my animal instincts taking control of my every move. 

I can’t tell you how long this was going on for but I can tell you that I’ve never felt more powerful than I ever have. I could feel my rage, my wrath was beginning to consume me but I didn’t care, if it helped me beat this monster then so be it. I’d turn into the most horrific and terrifying monster on earth, heaven, and hell if it let me get rid of him and with how things were going I was so close. I was so fucking close but something stopped me, a voice reached out to me just before I was completely consumed,

I froze mid-action, coming back to the world. I furrowed my brow as I looked up in search of the voice, seeing Yunho at the far end of the room, pure terror in his eyes. I was confused as I looked around, finally noticing the blood that ran down both of my hands and arms. I was soaked from head to toe in blood but none of it was mine, it was Lucifer’s. I looked down to see him lying underneath me in his usual human like form. He was missing an arm and a wing, the other wing bent at an unnatural angle. He had fresh claw marks on his face, his left eye completely gouged out. My jaw fell open at the sight as I staggered away from Lucifer, staring at my blood soaked hands.

“Y/N stop...please. You don’t need to do anymore...he stopped moving a long time ago.” Yunho said, his voice shaking as he walked over to me slowly.

The moment he reached me he sank to his knees, cupping my face gently in his hands, “It’s done...let’s--let’s go home.”

I nodded slowly, still a bit out of it. I opened my mouth to speak but nothing made it out. My eyes widened in horror at the sight, tears blurring my vision when he fell forward, slumped against me. I looked past him to see Lucifer standing there, Yunho’s blood coating his hand. I brought a trembling hand up to Yunho’s back only to have fresh blood coat my fingers.

No...No... 

“NO!”

.

.

.

Tags : @chanyeolol​ @choisofty​ @boredmay21​ @j-oneracha​ @elenaramos1​

#ateez scenarios #ateez fluff #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez ff #ateez fanfiction #ateez smut #ateez series #ateez angst #ateez jeong yunho #ateez jung yunho #ateez yunho #jung yunho fanfic #jung yunho scenarios #jung yunho smut #jung yunho fluff #jung yunho fanfiction #jung yunho fic #jung yunho angst #yunho smut #yunho fanfic #yunho au #jung yunho #jeong yunho #yunho fluff #yunho angst

[floralkittygambler]

Reposting for reasons

Response to Honest’s post here: Doing this to spread this awareness more as I know theres a bit of a rift in the critical community - plus I really fucking go on. Im PISSED and I do apologise however it NEEDS urgent addressing. I know people will hate me for it but Im used to hate and honestly? Hating rather than helping to solve the issue only furthers my fucking point here. So yeah this is so more people are aware (no offense to any of those involved in said rift either, but this is an important message. Thank you for understanding and if I can do anything to make all sides comfortable, then please message me and I’ll do my upmost.) “ More awareness of this is needed. Even if it’s your favourite, you can’t justify their shit but rally against another’s shit. Have people tell you you’re experiences arent real or invalid because, like Husk, people have - in real life - shipped you with someone you are far from comfortable with but you still treat them like a person. Because you have basic respect. And people force you to accept harassment, touching, stalking, advances for THEIR satisfaction. People use you for their fantasies. But you’re just a ‘tsundere’ for it. Or you have addiction issues but people think being with another addict will ‘save’ you because you’re apparently too incompetent to save yourself. Love isnt some magic fuckin cure so stop romanticising it as a fuckin saviour. It’s gross and fuckin creepy. Get stalked and have someone NEVER accept your no just because you show youre still decent enough to not treat them shitty or any different from anyone else. Try having someone way older or way younger (both in morally fucked up ways) advance on you and people encourage that. People you’re supposed to feel safe around.

People touch you when you pull away or show discomfort. Follow you home. Have pictures of you and wont accept you dont like them like that and it’s not ‘playing hard to get’ or ‘the thrill of the chase’. Fuck. OFF. In fact, Im not only disappointed in the fandom. Im disappointed in the entire team who some should know better from their OWN personal experiences - or at least the bare minimal of being a fucking adult. Im disappointed in especially females (sorry idk whether girl or woman is more appropriate here-) who statistically are more likely to have experienced something similar at some point in their lives think this is a cute gay moment. No. Angel is made out as a fucking predator - Im not saying he is, Im saying that his persistence is very fucking unwelcome like one. People like Husk dont need that fucking invasiveness. They/We need patience and someone on our level. Angel’s I know are the fuckin polar opposite - and some of them I know are very sexually harassing, including unwanted touching. It’s a shitty way to present gay people. Gays are fuckin people. Some are cunts and some arent. It’s a HUMAN thing. But considering the shit theyve been subjected to, presenting a gay as a victim only to also show them as a perpetrator is insulting! And for those Ive seen argue this about how people like AD wouldnt know how to express their love normally and whatnot? His pig. His best friend. He’s in his fucking 30s. There are literal real life criminals who get molested as kids and then go on to molest kids. Not all who grow up like that turn into nonces. Stop just fucking STOP justifying and romanticising this bullshit! I used to see the good in AD but now he makes me fucking sick. Especially with my verrrrrry fucking real traumas and connections. But fuck me, eh? Because this fictional guy matters so much more. Fuck real victims. And whilst we’re at it, fuck AD too when it suits your fetishes! Sarcasm aside, the fans and the team need to straighten up their abhorrent behaviour. Stolas. Fucking clearly having an affair, knowingly fucking up his daughter’s mental health and bribing a guy into sex who only wants the book and nothing more. He even has a fucking warning button over Stolas- Guys, how do you think any of this is cute? Even the team gross me out- I genuinely see potential and talent and it’s all gone to shit to satisfy horny teens, horny adults, and literally everyone who doesnt for the life of them understand being an adult is more than sex, drugs, violence and swears! I REALLY want to keep enjoying HB/HH but it’s getting harder and harder with such ignorant and bordering lazy creators (note: lazy as in wont do the fucking research or actually listen to real criticism and victims), such despicable fans (yeah, some HDers fuckin mocked that they triggered my ED, yet they had the fucking NERVE to support Angel’s potential ED AND laugh and blame me for me getting treated so badly for actually having the balls to call Angel and the teams hypocrisy. I got told to kill myself, that my problems arent real - oh but Angels apparently is! Which... They *are* but AD isnt real so technically only onlookers will suffer and not a drawing  - and they just excused their toxic behaviours. These people are like “aww poor angie babey!” yet fuckin INSULT sex workers. All this red in Hazbin yet it feels everyone and they mama colour blind. The issues are getting worse and fans are outright becoming EVIL, VILE, Vindictive little bullies - from kids to adults. You SHOULD be ashamed of yourself if you conduct yourself in such a manner. And you need to readjust your attitudes and behaviours because the only fuckers getting hurt are actual fucking victims. Ever been violated and been gaslit so much you STILL fucking question it’s reality? So you drown that shit out yet somehow it’s effects still hit you? Fetishise it. Make it your uwu gae couple goals, you’re no better than people believing Harley and the Joker werent toxic af. If this shit happened to you, most of you would actually SEE where we’re all coming from. Also, stop making gay a fetish - you’re like those creepy old men in the alley heckling lesbians to make out so they can wank off. Gays, no ALL the LGBT+ are fucking people too. So dont give me that bullshit then start turning everything just gay or just straight to mentally wank off to. It’s degrading and dehumanising. And yes, fiction does effect reality. You crush on a fictional character? Mourn one? Support one? Hell, fuckin jerk off to one - that’s affecting reality. Remember how in fiction all blacks were treated as villians? Look how theyre treated IRL. JAWS, great classic unfortunately their was a spike in shark killings over a fucking movie - the shark in the movie wasnt even real for the most part because they dont behave like that! (Also the animatronic was so shit they genuinely had so many issues - I think they even took to naming each one! Some fun trivia there!). Tiger sharks are more nasty than great whites as tiger sharks will hunt and eat a human. Great whites prefer seals and dislike human flesh, they just mistake us for seals. Hell, theres the toothless basking shark - theyre often SWAM WITH by divers for being so friendly. Yet Jaws made people think all sharks are bloodlusting over humans. Slenderman was created for a fucking contest and that influenced a stabbing (NOT Victor’s fault). Watch a horror movie that isnt based on a real life event and tell me that at least ONE has left you peaking over your shoulder. Stella may be a bitch - we dont know for certain - but try getting cheated on. Y’know what? Try growing up in such a broken home like Octavia. Yeah reaaaaaal fucking cute now, huh? Funny how as well y’all petition for male victims to be taken seriously then laugh when fictional males experience this abuse, further adding to stigma. You can be hit on by the hottest mf on the planet but if you arent interested, that should be respected! Also we’ve all been inspired by at least one fictional character so yeah. Yknow, since I was little Ive been fighting for sex worker and homeless rights. But HH/HB treatment of both leave a bitter taste in my mouth. I’ll still fully support sex workers and the homeless, but that’s the fucking effect this show is having. Bearing in mind I wont ever share everything Ive been through - and I shouldnt fucking have to in order to be believed and validated (obvs proof is required in a legal case but that’s a whole other topic). Why should I share MY fucking pain especially when you fuckers have belittled and triggered it more so? We have our rights to our secrets but fuck ME you lot NEED to start acting appropriately and like decent fucking humans. ‘iTs HeLl’ yeah and welcome to Earth- the team and yourselves live HERE. You obide by THESE rules. And as someone with beliefs (and a LOT of ancient fucking texts and studies on this shit) their Hell isnt even a proper Hell! It’s closer to purgatory and even then it’s not. Regardless, it’s a poorly built world with the lore consistently changing per episode and tweet, with many plot holes, and is apparently easy to get into - even via accidentally watching porn according to a stream. If youre gonna parade youre a fucking expert and research into demonology and use real believed figures, at least get THAT right. In fact, Lucifer and Lilith (and Stolas tbf) are ESPECIALLY risky as theyre a lot more complex than most easy access texts will tell you. Likewise, Stolas’s first introduction and main focus is sex. He’s one of the FEW Goetia demons that dont have some involvement in relationship issues at ALL. He’s known for astrology, crystals and herbs but hes also known to aid MONEY troubles (it’s lesser known but it’s true! HB Stolas is an insult to the Prince). Turning Vodou into something evil is vile considering it’s powerful and liberated slaves. Pentagrams are nothing to do with Satan, they’re magic based sigils. Upside down cross is the symbol of a SAINT. It’s just some edgy attempt to trick people into believing they know more than they do. Also you should NEVER dabble and doodle sigils without knowing the meanings or respecting what they behold. Vox and Val, real fuckin cute way to make them look like a stupid fucking highschool drama instead of a fucking SEX TRAFFICKER (note: real pimps often target YOUNG folks too - aka minors - and groom them into sex work. Theres different types of pimp. Viv has shown barely any understanding of ‘the game’ and its a fucking insult to injury. Yes we KNOW what a fucking pimp and prozzie are! We dont need to see it. We need REAL AWARENESS.) and a fucking scheming bastard of a CEO salesman botman. And yet even THEN lets go a step further and make some yandere wuv on boyfweind aboose! Fuck off- Now I love a good anime but these tropes are getting fucking dangerous now. And unrealistic to real love and relationships. Kids nowadays know fuck all on a healthy relationship (neither did the fuckin 50s tbf) and Im seeing more romaticism and glorifying abusive situations. Like the show ‘You’. Ok, there’s a fuckin bloke online who slaughtered innocents and kidnapped yet people commented how cute he is on his IG and that they want to be kidnapped or killed by him next. Dont believe me? Look up Peter Manfredonia Connecticut and the comments people left him and then tell me why shit like whats being presented in HH/HB ISNT fucking concerning - because it is. For a series about redemption, it’s brilliant at the opposite (Quote from the creator herself, Viv has posted that it’s influencing her bad choices. Even as a joke, proof’s in the pudding). And the overall focus on sex in the way Viv does is so immature and really creepy, and this is from an ADULTS perspective. From one adult to another, Im concerned as to why any of them think this is a normal fixation. Then again they’ve hired quite a large amount of dodgy folks and even a child. Most of this shit gets avoided with a basic background check like most companies run. I DO like Hazbin. Or the premise. I love some of the cast and spite the others. In Helluva, I just like a tiny portion of the cast. And I critique it so harshly because Viv DOES need a wakeup slap, grounding to reality, people who arent going to big her up or kiss her arse for once and shape her up to be the best she can be. The actually reach and even surpass her potential. And to reach where you need to be, there’s a lot of harsh lessons youll face. That’s life. Shes chosen one of the most HEARTLESS industries and if she blocks out critique as ‘hate’ then she’s not strong enough and wont last. It’s just another unprepped YanDev again (except I dont believe Viv to be a nonce. Even with her dodgy past and dodgy present, I think her perspective on sex and relationship with sexuality is FAR from healthy BUT I dont believe she’s a pedophile. Ive bled my fair share and so far, I just think her sex perspective isnt healthy or mature for her age. But there’s little to nothing to suggest actual noncery - dont worry about accusations there. But YanDev is totally a dirty predator. Just clearing that up). Viv NEEDS some harshness and stability if she wants to do things right. And it’ll make her fucking cry but if she loves these projects as much as she claims to, then you’ll sacrifice blood, sweat and tears for that shit. Even the strongest points are mediocre at best when properly observed. She CAN do more, but she’ll have to face the harsh music. Viv wont see this, but if she does, I dont care if it upsets her. Why? Because this is that much of an issue - something she’s cultivated - that she needs to take action and not ignore it or be secretive about it. She needs to grow up and get tougher skin. Im not saying this to cause her pain. In fact, I wouldnt waste my fucking limited time if I DIDNT care. Trust me, I have duties to be met at a certain quota every single day. I say this shit only because I give a shit and care. If we met, she’d fucking hate me. But people like me are good for shaping people up to their potential. And we arent always this ‘tough love’ either. But when someone needs that level of harshness to help themselves, we’re not afraid to lose people or cause upset if the results end up being the best for them. If she ever saw this, she needs to re fucking evaluate her message, her story, and those she’s choosing to welcome into her circle. And all Im seeing is one rookie mistake after the other. Her paid patreon discord. Just like the messages Honest has posted on her side of being harassed (not in Vivs fyi), Ive experienced shit and bullying and even stay silent on their for being attacked for a group I fuckin paid to be in and yet I feel isolated. It’s all arsekissing and ‘thank you viv’ (thats an actual channel-) and it feels like a place of borderline worship and people trying to appease her 24/7 whilst kicking others with different opinions down. There’s so many I love but I aint kissin yer fuckin arse. Ask the closest friend I have - we’re fucking raw and wont just side with each other just because. We’ll call each other out if we think they’ve fucked up and then help each other build themselves up better. Because real fuckin people who actually care wont just want to be adored by you. They’ll care enough to point out your bullshit and help you, even if they upset you at the time. They’re real and upfront with you. People like us arent always the easiest to be close to either because we arent afraid of upsetting someone if it’s in their best interest and to help them. Likewise, we dont go out looking for fights either. Most times, we’re fuckin soft bastards- All this shit listed is the fuckin surface level of the real life hell of this fandom. And unsurprisingly, those who experience little to no toxicity have always been higher on that popularity ‘food chain’ - enough admirers and shared opinions that people wanna arse kiss regardless of their OWN feelings as well as neutral perspectives. I’d say you’re the lucky fans, but you’re not. You’re sheltered, and that isnt always the best way to be sadly. As for the fans. If Ive upset you. Well... I dont care. Because many of you have actively sought me out and weaponised my traumas against me. You never cared about my feelings then. Why should I care about yours? Im not doing this out of malice. Im fed up of humans behaving so pathetically yet claiming to be high and mighty. Most of you have been arseholes to those in and out of the community. The victims and non-victims alike. Hardly any of you considered once my real suffering. You put a drawing over a life. Many lives. You had the audacity to tell me Im full of shit. Some even using my real traumas to make a mockery of me and those Im around with a very similar history. Some with traumatic histories that differ from my own. You hardly ever considered the real lives of those effected. So no, Im not sorry for having the fucking balls to this day to still stand up for our rights and give us a voice that’s long been stolen. Im not sorry for being a fucking victim. Im not sorry for saying what desperately NEEDS voicing. And Im not sorry for not conforming to you or any fandom just to belong. We deserve better than to constantly be your fuckin arse monkeys (well... the trope is butt monkey but yknow-) and to be mistreated, misrepresented and harmed by you. You’re no different to the school bullies who give speeches on anti-bullying day. And I hope every single one of you starts looking into yourselves and improving. PS: Depending on the texts you read, Lucifer is said to have been redeemed or to be redeemed. Fun fact to haunt yalls with~ “

#warning long #long post #hazbin critical #very long rant #important #hear victims voices #just sick of how awful people can treat one another and believe this is acceptable #everyone is accountable #toxic fanbase #Toxic shippers #toxic ships #im literally too fucking old for this #forgive the anger but after years and years it gets so cumbersome and tiring #im happy to be the pariah if it means victims actually get heard and helped

[petitprincess1]

Good Evening Ch10 (Let’s Kill Tonight)

AO3 Link Summary: Alastor goes to wreak some havoc at the warehouse on two unsuspecting guards. How fun :) Words: 2,155 Warning:Warning: Mild gore (at least I think it's mild), violence, blood, amputation (not detailed), death, gun use, burning, and implied cannibalism. ~~~ Alastor had used the backdoor to leave outside of the house, since he heard Charlie getting interrogated by her mother and knew that Lilith seemed to be a shrew lady. The last thing he needed to do was be caught by her, since he knew that she was much more aware than she appeared, especially if Lucifer was any indication. Hell, he wouldn’t be surprised if they were fully aware of all that he had done.

No matter, this was something that could be dealt with on a later date. Plus, he wasn’t dense. The creole left a note explaining that he had left something in a previous motel that he stayed in or possibly at the Happy Hotel. Whether or not, they’ll believe it is nothing that he had to worry about at the moment. 

Alastor went into his car and looked at his phone, seeing if Husk had responded to him. The man had been around Angelo the longest and may know his password, especially since he’s in charge of keeping track of the guests. Granted, he would be making grand assumptions about his Anthony, but...they were necessary at the moment.

A vibration on his phone caught his attention and Alastor checked the message.

Husker: Why the fuck do you want to know his password? Alastor: Ah! You do know it! Thank goodness that you remain one of my, if not the most, predictable of my friends, Husker. Also, that information is unnecessary. Husker: Any info from you is fucking necessary. Now, what the fuck do you want with it? Alastor: Nice to see your vocabulary remains as limited as usual. If you must know, the ethel had gotten attacked recently and I need to get into this phone. I need to know who hurt him.

As he pulled up into the hotel, Alastor didn’t receive another text from Husk. He assumed that it was going to take a bit more persuading, but he ended up seeing Husk walk up to the car. Al rolled his window down and was about to give a cheeky comment, but Husk tossed a torn piece of paper into the car. He huffed, “Shut the fuck up before I change my mind about you givin’ a shit about anyone. Just leave me out of this. I don’t need to be wrapped up in your shit again. Also, do what you gotta do now and give me the phone afterwards.”

Alastor pouted, “Awww, but what if I need more information?”

The older man rolled his eyes and said, “You won’t. You never were one to forget. ….I’m only doing this for Angelo, not for you. I figured he would be in some deep shit hearing about Val’s death. Just...give them hell.”

The creole grinned coldly up at Husk and chuckled as he typed in the password, “Oh...I plan to.”

Alastor parked his car into the forest nearby and saw an abandoned warehouse about a couple of feet away. Luckily, the plant life was so thick and unkempt that it kept himself fairly hidden. He moved as close as he could without causing too much rustling and saw that there seemed to be at least two people on guard. Seeing them speaking to each other, Al hummed as he moved closer to the miscreants to hear their conversation. The creole truly hated being left out of the loop.

Once he was close enough, he listened to the tanned one complain, “...I’m just saying, man. There ain’t no point. Why do you think it’s just us? No one wants to come to some damn forest. They’re all busy with their, like, ouija boards and...switches...and, I don’t know, jeweling. Stuff like that...look, I got kids, man. I don’t want to waste time with this shit.”

The one that was greying glanced at him and sighed, “You’re a fucking moron. Also, just because there hasn’t been anyone, doesn’t mean that no one will be here. Plus, you think Tony’s family is gonna let Vox off easy. Ya saw how he was when he left. Barely was able to walk. It was surprising watching him start driving-” That was more than enough to assure Alastor that he was making the right decision, not that he had any doubts.

He went back to his car and opened up his trunk. Luckily, he had brought his bag, but he only planned on using his knife for this occasion. No need to set up traps, much harder to clean up the mess. There’s always a stray drop of blood that you always miss. Not to mention that it’s absolute hell to clean in-between the teeth of a bear trap. Al closed his trunk- no, he slammed his trunk as loud as he could, instantly making him hear the two get alerted. Just to add extra flare, the brown-skinned man tossed rocks in two different directions to gain more attention.

Alastor listened to the two whisper to another and scarcely watched them walking toward the forest. Luckily, the woodland was already so dense that he barely needed to hide. These people were just making it so easy for him ~~~ The greying haired man was slowly walking around the woods with a hand on his pistol, ready to pull out his weapon whenever it was deemed necessary. Other than Vox and Val’s crew and a few other associates, no one knew about the location. Well, the forest was pretty well known, but hardly anyone in Eden would go near it. He assumed that it was probably a bunch of kids, thinking that they might be brave or searching for an urban legend or whatever.

Normally, they were told to shoot whoever trespassed, no matter the excuse. However, if they were just kids or teens, the man had no problem with just letting them go with a warning or even threatening to shoot. He was a part of the mafia, but he wasn’t a monster.

The grey haired man jumped at hearing rustling in a bush nearby. He took his gun out and didn’t take the safety off as a just in case. He called out, “Alright, come out slowly and you won’t get a bullet in tha…” He trailed off as a bunny came hopping out from the bush and its little nose twitched up at the guard. The man chuckled, leaned down to the bunny’s height, and whispered, “Hey, don’t worry, buddy. I ain’t Elmer Fudd. You’re safe with me.”

The grey haired man placed a finger to his lips and shushed the rabbit, causing the little guy to bounce away. He gave another laugh as he pocketed his gun and turned to go find the other guard, just to suddenly let out a gurgled, cut-off scream as a knife got embedded halfway into his throat. He trembled as blood slowly came out his mouth, while he choked, staring at a mixed man with a wide smile on his face.

The guard placed a hand weakly onto the well-dressed attacker’s wrist and was about to pull, but the attacker chided, “Ah-ah~! I wouldn’t do that if I were you. It’s actually far more damaging to pull the knife out, since it tends to cause even more damage. Not a lot of people know that~”

He then winked at the greying man and sliced further up his throat, until he got to the bottom of his chin. The man’s tongue flopped out from the large gash in his throat as blood poured down his neck. Alastor was quick to place his jacket on the forest floor to catch the blood that poured out of the victim’s throat. The guard uselessly tried to stop the bleeding by weakly covering his throat and forcing his hanging tongue back into his mouth.

Unfortunately and unsurprisingly, it did absolutely nothing and the man almost fell to the ground. Thankfully, Alastor was there to help settle the guard onto the ground and slowly placed him onto the jacket. He hummed as he grabbed the jacket and started to drag the man through the forest with one arm, looking at his knife with the other. Al gave a small lick to the blood and small bits of skin on the blade.

He muttered as he licked his lips, “Not bad. A little greasy, but that doesn’t mean it has to go to waste. Why, I bet your tongue would be great in an omelette. Using the right spices, you can easily make it taste like beef! What a wonderful treat to say “thank you”!” 

Al kept going on and on as he dragged the dead man back into the warehouse. ~~~ The other guard came walking back into the warehouse when he saw smoke coming from a window. He just assumed that the man put on the large furnace to stay warm. It was pretty cold, after all. He called out to the other man, “Artie, you here? I didn’t see anything! I’m guessing it was just a squirrel or…”

He trailed off and dropped his gun when he saw Artie lying on the ground on a jacket with his throat flayed open, exposing many ligaments, veins, and large chunks of meat. There also seemed to be Artie’s tongue inside of a container that had bloodied water inside of it. The guard covered his mouth and was about to turn to run, but he let out a loud scream as his achilles heel got sliced, rendering his foot useless and making him fall to the floor. He whimpered as he tried to quickly crawl away, ignoring the agonizing, searing pain on his heel and the sound of light, quick footsteps near him.

Alastor walked in front of the guard, causing the crawling man to look up at him. The guard whimpered, “P-Please, d-don’t kill m-me!”

Al crouched down and hummed with a large smile, “Well, you know, I would love to do that, but you hurt someone I really cared about. I-I mean, if you did this to send a message, then...message received” he took the knife out of his pocket and stabbed it through the man’s arm, causing him to scream in pain and tremble more on the ground. Tears ran down his face as his screams made his throat raw. 

The guard whined, “Pl-lease, I-I didn’t d-do anything! I-I-I didn’t e-even be-eat the fa- Gah!”

He cried as he got a punch to the face, which that pain paled in comparison to anything else. The creole’s smile grew wider to an almost insane degree as he practically growled, “Don’t...finish that word.”

Alastor looked up at the furnace and huffed as he grabbed the knife and yanked it out of the guard’s arm. The man bit his lip, trying not to cry out more. He gave shuddering whine and tried begging again, “P-Please, don’t kill m-me! I have k-kids, m-man, and a-a wife. I-I swear, I did n-nothing to th- ..An-nthony! Please!”

The creole ignored him as he stuffed the corpse into the flames of the large furnace, breathing in the smell of the quickly burning flesh. He was about to turn to the other man, but jumped as a loud bang happened behind him and felt something graze his cheek. Al blinked as he slowly turned to the man and saw him turning to cock the gun, struggling with his injured arm. He quickly walked over to the guard and stomped on his slashed ankle, snapping the bones and causing a loud wet tearing sound to reverberate throughout the warehouse.

Before the guard could do anything, Alastor grabbed the gun and tossed it away. He huffed, grabbing the man’s uninjured leg and began dragging him away, “I was thinking about letting you live, since I don’t particularly enjoy harming children or hearing their annoying cries. However...now, I need you dead for attempting to kill me! I mean, how rude.”

The guard pleaded as he dug, “No! PLEASE! DON’T! HEEELP! HE-” He got cut off as Al picked up the man and tossed him into the fire on top of the slowly burning corpse. His smile got smaller as it turned more into a relieved one, feeling a sense of catharsis at hearing the guard’s blood-curdling cries as he struggled to get out of the flames.

The creole closed the door to the furnace and left the door open to allow the wonderful aroma of burning cowards stretch throughout the place. He hummed along with the guard’s futile cries, took the tongue in the container, and any evidence that was around, he placed it into his bloodied jacket.

He could leave the tongue at the front entrance, but why leave any clues. Alastor wanted them all to never know what will happen next, just like how his dear Anthony went in unaware. He didn't get to kill the people he was looking for, but it certainly was a start. Al smiled, “Very entertaining, indeed~”

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #tw blood #tw death #tw amputation #tw burning #tw knife #tw guns #tw implied cannibalism #hazbin hotel fic #hazbin hotel husk #husk #husker #alastor #radiodust #one sided charlastor #fanfiction #angel dust #fanfic #writing #my writing #writers on tumblr

[sympathyfortheblinderdevil]

All is Fair: Ch 11

Hi, Y’all!  Thank you for being so patient and not giving up on this fic even though I have been egregiously late with updates. At best, my life is erratically populated with periods of leisure time and periods of hectic, soul-crushing work. I, like many of you, am in the midst of a forced period of leisure time, so you will probably see more frequent updates. I appreciate those of you who are willing to stick around to see what happens next, and I hope you are in good health. Tell me what you think! x

Discovery and Dissolution

Polly Gray sat in her Bentley, wrapped in fur. Through her dark glasses, she watched the scene on the street where Lia worked. The bitter north wind cut straight down the sidewalk in front of the library and sent patrons scurrying for shelter within. A cluster of people shuffled through the arched brass doors, and Lia stepped out. She was a vision in a blue cashmere long coat, a mink collar clutched around her neck. The wind caused her coat to flap and play peek-a-boo with leather boots that stretched up to her knees. Both items were gifts from Tommy, Polly surmised. She noticed that Lia still wore an older pair of wool gloves. Guess he couldn’t think of everything.

 Despite the cold, Lia wore a little smile as she walked along. She’d been hard at work referencing and cross-referencing research with a professor of Art History at the University of Birmingham, and he was pleased with the help she’d given him. He had mentioned working with her again in the near future. Lia had come a long way from shelving books. She was beginning to realize the kind of life she had only dreamed was possible when she first came to Birmingham.  As she neared the corner, though, she was pulled out of her thoughts when she noticed familiar-looking woman in a posh car was watching her.

 Polly lowered her window and called out, “Lia, Lia Montrose!”

 Lia slowed down and warily approached the car. Polly extended a sumptuously gloved hand, looked over her sunglasses at Lia, and introduced herself, “Polly Gray…Tommy’s Aunt Polly.”

 Lia visibly relaxed and took her hand at those words, “Mrs. Gray…I’m pleased to meet you.”

 “Get in, it’s time we got acquainted.”

 In a matter of minutes, Lia found herself sitting in the kitchen at No. 6 Watery Lane while Polly found two cups and put the kettle on. She then reached into the cupboard where she found a tin of tea. Upon opening it and sniffing the contents, she decided that it would do. Decked head to toe in Parisian tailor-made garments, she looked odd moving around the kitchen with such familiarity.

 While they waited for the kettle to boil, she offered Lia a cigarette and lit one of her own. They’d spoken hardly a word since they entered the house. Lia was loathe to break the silence with small talk, so she waited for Polly to say what was on her mind. They sat, smoking and soaking in the dusty quiet of the dimly lit room.

 Only when Polly poured the tea did she finally speak. “I brought you here so that you could see where Tommy lived...where we all lived before the money came.”

 Lia looked all around the room and smiled, “So this is where Tommy began.”

 Polly waved her hand with a flourish and laughed, “Who knows where Tommy began. If I hadn’t witnessed his birth I’d swear that he was flung out of heaven and barred from hell.”

 Lia smiled knowingly, “Well, Lucifer was a fallen angel.”

 “Exactly.” Polly raised an eyebrow and leaned back in the rickety chair. “I want you to understand why Tommy is,” she searched for the right words and finding none she continued, “the way he is.”

 Memories flooded Polly’s mind as she looked all around herself, gesturing here and there with the hand that held her cigarette. “Look around you, Lia. This is where we moved when things got better. You don’t want to know where we lived before when things were worse.”

 Lia swallowed hard and held her cup with both hands as if to draw every bit of heat out of it. She was suddenly cold. She had not grown up with much, but she was certainly comfortable. Her home had a lightness about it. The room where she sat with Polly was cozy, homey even, but the air was laced with soot and traces of despair.

 “Does that explain why he is so driven?” Lia wondered aloud.

 “Partly,” Polly mused. Then she looked at Lia with soft brown eyes, almost like she sympathized with her. She felt sorry for anyone who loved Tommy, even herself. “He has always been different. Clever and driven since the night he was born.” Then she looked away, “But he did have a big heart.”

 Did.

 It wasn’t Polly’s intention to make Lia uncomfortable or uncertain of her place in Tommy’s life, but Lia couldn’t help but feel a little intimidated. Lia’s chair creaked as she shifted her weight and sat her teacup on the table, and Polly saw in her eyes a vulnerability that hadn’t been there before.

 “We all had to make sacrifices to get where we are today, but Tommy has sacrificed the most. Business comes first. Always. Ada says that Tommy likes you, he may even grow to care for you, but there are certain things you will have to accept if you want to be with him...”

 “So he has said,” Lia broke in. She immediately regretted cutting Tommy’s aunt off, though Polly showed no sign of being offended. She just sipped her tea and smiled.

 “Has he said what he plans on doing with you when he returns to London, Dear?”

 Lia winced a bit at the question. “No.”

 There was silence between them again. A clock ticked out the seconds from the next room and the sounds of people shouting to each other in the street filtered through the walls. Having finished her tea, Polly lit another cigarette and let the quiet grow around them. She believed that you could learn a lot about a person by how they chose to deal with spaces in conversation, so she waited and watched.

 Lia ruminated on Polly’s last question as long as she could, then stood and looked toward the parlor, silently asking permission to go in.  Polly rose and accompanied her. Dusty furniture and photographs sat frozen in time as if they were waiting for Polly to run the sweeper or Ada to polish the tabletops. The fireplace sat waiting to be lit. But she couldn’t see Tommy until she looked up the shadowy stairwell. It was narrow, and she could barely see the top stair in the darkness, but something in the woodsy smell that drifted down reminded her of him. Polly caught the wistful expression on Lia’s face and placed her hand on Lia’s back.

 “His room was up there,” Polly nodded.

 Polly peered into the darkness and flipped a switch, then nodded in the direction of the stairs, inviting Lia to climb them.

   ***

 The sleek grey Bentley rolled along Cannon Lane and splashed slush in its wake. Lia sat in back with a heavy woolen blanket wrapped around her legs. She made small talk with Rodney, the Blinder up front. Already, she knew that he had a fiancé and that they were to be married in June. His mum and dad were from Coventry, and they were both deceased. Also, Tommy had taken him under his wing as a boy of thirteen. Tommy kept him from starving and from, as Rodney put it, “…falling in with the worst sort of criminal element.” It seemed like everywhere she turned there was another person with a story about what Tommy had done to help them.

 Rodney delivered her to her door, and eager to get out of the cold, Lia darted inside.

  “Jenny, are you here?”

 A few snowflakes floated to the floor while she hung up her coat and unbuttoned her mink lined gloves. She noticed that the kettle was on, and so she called out again.

 “Jenny!”

 Her cousin bounded down the stairs, pulling her arms through the sleeves of a cardigan as she came.

 “Jesus, Lia!” she laughed. “Is the bloody house on fire?”

 “I have news,” Lia beamed.

 Jenny nodded her head and set about fixing tea, “Go on then. Tell me your news.”

 “WE have the use of a car.”

 Jenny froze and her heart sank. “Come again…”

 “A car, Jenny! Tommy doesn’t like the idea of my riding the bus and walking to work, so he is sending a car ‘round for us every morning and afternoon. One of his men will drive us to and from work,” she enthused.

 Jenny stood blinking at her for a moment then responded in a monotone voice. “A Blinder, Lia. ‘One of his men’ means a Blinder. I’d rather walk in the rain and snow.”

 She turned her back to Lia and got out the plates, careful not to take her simmering mood out on the crockery. She tried her best to keep her distrust of Tommy out of her relationship with her cousin, but it was hard to keep things light when every other word out of Lia’s mouth was “Tommy”.

 Jenny had taken quite a bit of flack at work because of Lia’s connection with Tommy Shelby. She’d had her fill with entering rooms full of chatter only to have them go silent, and she had dodged several sideways comments about her recent promotion. She hated to kill the mood, but someone had to be the voice of reason. Rolling up to work chauffeured by a flat cap wearing thug was more than she could tolerate.

 Lia balled her fists and tried to modulate her voice as she asked, “Why do you hate him so much? Hmm? He is good to me and he wants to help you too.”

 “Help? Is that what he calls it?” Jenny turned back around and eyed Lia’s obviously new and obviously bought by Tommy clothes. “If you want to play house with him and let him dress you up as his little doll that’s your business, but I won’t be ferried around town in a car that was paid for with blood money.”

 “That’s not fair, and you know it. Our family weren’t always saints. Granddad was the first one in the queue to spunk away his wages on the horses and the last one out of the pub at night.”

 “Right, and it was people like the Shelbys who were more than happy to take his wages off of him while Nan and our dads went shoeless.”

 She had a point. Lia hated the fact that she had a point. Damn Jenny for always knowing how to snatch the stars from her eyes. Lia sat down and put her head in her hands to hide her tears. It was so easy to let Tommy do little things for her, to buy a scarf here and some gloves there, to make life easier for her in a thousand little ways. He never made her feel like it was payment for services rendered. How could Jenny take all of Tommy’s kindness and turn it into something dirty, something tainted and wrong? The gifts and the thoughtful things he did for her were not part of a transaction, they were just part of the way he liked to take care of her. She wished that for once Jenny could see the goodness in Tommy.

 Since Aunt Polly had shown her the house and the betting shop where Tommy had launched his empire, she had a deeper understanding of him. Since she’d stood in his tiny bedroom where he had wrestled with the echoes of the tunnels and sweated through nightmares of poverty and war, she saw him through different eyes. She had grown to tolerate his last-minute cancellations and welcome him without pouting when he’d kept her waiting half the night.

 Polly had opened her eyes to the man behind the façade in a way that he could never do himself. With that understanding, she opened herself up to the possibility of a life with Tommy. No, nothing about what happened between them was mercenary. Tommy just took care of people in his life. She was used to Jenny acting like an older sister and alerting her to pitfalls she had overlooked, but this was too much. The tears of frustration and despair that she had hidden behind her hands were becoming tears of rage. Over and over Jenny had proven that she wouldn’t ever approve of her relationship with Tommy, and Lia was finished with seeking her cousin’s approval.

 She wiped her eyes and spoke through gritted teeth, “You know, Tommy has offered to let me stay in one of his properties near the library. Maybe it’s time to take him up on that offer. I’d hate for my reputation as the Shelby whore to rub off on you.”

 Jenny put down the knife she’d been using to slice the bread. “Calm down. I didn’t say that…”

 “But that is what you meant.” Her words came out clipped and cold. “I don’t want my reputation for sleeping with the Gangster of Parliament to ruin your chances with some nice mid-level clerk, so I’ll just move out.”

 “No…don’t! I’m just worried about you. You are like my little sister and I’m afraid you’re riding for a fall. What happens when this is over?”

 Lia abruptly stood and lashed out at Jenny, “Over?” Lia growled.

 The word struck a chord of fear in Lia that made her dizzy. In an instant, all of her nights with Tommy, the taste of his sweat, the feel of his mouth, the smell of his sheets, flashed through her mind. She turned that fear into rage and took a step toward Jenny as she shouted, “I love him! That’s enough for me! Why can’t it enough for you?”

 It was true. She loved him so much that it hurt. Her face was red and blotchy and her chest heaved with every breath. She was tired of fighting Jenny at every turn, and at that moment all she wanted was Tommy’s arms around her.  She needed him so badly that she felt like she would fly into a million pieces without him holding her together.

 Jenny took a step backward and bumped into the kitchen counter. Lia looked truly deranged. A realization came over Jenny like a wave. Lia was a different person now— a person who turned a blind eye to the ugly side of her man and made excuses for his shortcomings. It had been happening gradually over the last few months; the absent-minded dreamer that she had grown up with had disappeared. Back then, no matter how far out Lia got Jenny was always the voice of reason who could reel her back in, but Lia wasn’t listening to her anymore. This was different.

 There seemed to be no turning back. Jenny knew that she had already said too much, but couldn’t resist a parting shot as she headed for the stairs. “Love? How can you love him when the only things you have in common are each other?”

 Even as Jenny said it, she wondered if it was true.

  ***

   Tommy and Arthur were sitting opposite each other at Tommy’s desk in their shirtsleeves talking about horses. Arthur had put too many logs on the fire and the room was like an oven. It was past the close of business and they should have been heading home, but they had lately taken to staying for drinks a couple of nights a week. Arthur would tell stories about Billy and the chickens, and Tommy had even opened up a bit about Lia. Arthur was cursing the heat and rolling up his sleeves when they heard someone pounding at the door.

 “You expecting company?” Arthur asked in his rough, whiskey soaked Brum.

 Tommy ran the tip of his tongue along his teeth and shook his head, “No.”

 They stood and Arthur made his way toward the door, his hand on his pistol.

 “Who’s there?” he boomed.

 A muffled voice called, “Lia Montrose. I need to see Tom…Mr. Shelby.”

 Arthur turned in his brother’s direction and feigned seriousness. ”Shall we let her in, Tommy?”

 Tommy rolled his eyes and huffed, “Open the fookin’ door; it’s freezing out there.”

 Lia entered the building shaking snow from her disheveled hair and stamping the slush from her boots. Her cheeks were pink from the cold and her eyes were a bit watery from the wind. She imagined that she looked a fright, but Arthur thought she looked like an angel.

 Arthur stood there looking her up and down while she tried not to gawp at the pistol hanging loosely under his arm until Tommy cleared his throat and began to make introductions.

 “Lia, this is my brother Arthur. Arthur, Lia Montrose.”

 Arthur straightened up and offered to take her coat. As he hung it on the rack, he smiled a bit too broadly and said, “Tommy has told me a lot of nice things about you.”

 Tommy knew that something was wrong because he and Lia hadn’t planned on seeing each other until the weekend. After a few pleasantries, Tommy stared at Arthur until he made his excuses and left.

 Chills shook her body; she was shaking like a leaf, so Tommy took her by the hand and led her into his office where a fire roared and two glasses of whiskey were already waiting. He sat her down on his desk and took a seat in front of her, all the while rubbing the warmth back into her arms and hands. She looked down into his crystalline eyes and tried to find the words to say what she’d come for. At that moment, she was ever so grateful that Tommy knew how to take his time with her. He would wait until she was ready to talk.

 She finished her first glass of whiskey and leaned into him. She breathed deeply and sighed, feeling better already simply for having him there to hold her.

 “I don’t know what to do,” she mumbled into his collar.

 “About…” he prompted her while stroking her head.

 She sat back up and his hands went to her thighs rubbing slow, soothing circles over her skirt. She watched his hands and thought about what Jenny had said. She didn’t know very much about him, other than what they did together. Hell, she only just met his brother. His business dealings were a mystery and she had learned more about him from the papers than from his own words. So what if she became breathless around him? So what if her tummy fluttered every time he entered the room? Surely there was more to love than the helpless infatuation she felt for him.

 Tommy lay his head in her lap and wrapped his arms around her hips thinking that maybe she would be able to tell him what was wrong if his eyes weren’t watching her. She ran her fingers through his hair and took a deep breath.

 “I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.”

 “Is that right?” Tommy whispered.

 Lulled by the sensation of her fingernails on his scalp, he could feel the knots in his shoulders loosen. He was trying his best to be attentive to her needs, but his mind drifted to what he’d like to do with her on his desk.

 “Jenny and I had an awful row… the worst one we’ve ever had,” she swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat and went on, “I can’t live with her anymore.”

 That got his full attention.

#Peaky Blinders #peaky blinders fiction #Tommy Shelby #peaky blinders fic #tommy shelby x oc #peaky blinders fanfiction #all is fair

[lilacprincessofrecovery]

Friends in Dark Places

Dean x friend

Dean and Sam had finished their latest hunt which meant either going to a bar to get wasted and laid not always in the same order OR hiding in the bunker watching tv drinking beer from the local corner side convenient gas station or the local drug store when they need to get to extra band aids and alcohol when Sam was feeling like it would be safer than just running any  dirty ol’ germy beer from God knows where, all over their wounds and Dean needed a razor and/or snacks or some things like that and both would head back to the bunker. This time Dean went on his own to the gas station this time. He was out of pies and snacks. Dean needed his pie.

During this particular hunt there wasnt any stitches involved so no rubbing alcohol needed. He was thinking as he walked around of what to do about the vampire that Sam and he had forgotten to kill out of the coven they just uncovered. Three lives were lost in crossfire. He hated himself for it. 

This man named Dean Michael Winchester (shocking middle name) had never really done much but save the world or his family and innocents. He felt guilt over everyone he lost though. He would drink and try to forget. He was Always chasing a new monster or an easy monster that he had known by then. He never had time enough for himself. He had beautiful glossy hazel eyes, blonde hair, small amount of freckles on his face and had the body of a model nicely aged like a fine wine or cheese! You didn’t really care for wine OR cheese but you didn’t care for either. You just found this man attractive easily in his mid to late. thirties. along the you were watching him too long and dedicated brother and to those few he considered friends, he was loyal but would kill for. Both men had been through and TO Hell and back, been possessed by demons and angels and Lucifer himself and met the grand writer of all the scenes in the world, God. 

You realized you’d been staring too long when he glanced over your way. You pretended to look for a nonexistent earring. Then he went to check out at the register. You got up and acted like nothing was wrong and hurriedly grabbed your things and shuffled out of the store to your car. You saw the man get in a black 67 impala. An old car but it was running good. It was also aged nicely. Like a fine wine too. You tripped over a bike as you were about to enter your car and you looked up and to your embarrassment there was a hand that offered you help with your own goodies from the gas station that had previously been putting stuff in the vintage car. You looked up at the man. “I am Dean. What’s your name? I saw you watching me. You know in the store… and before… the bike that just tripped you….” “I wasn’t looking at you.” She smiled soft and blushes. He shook his head and grinned. “Alright, do i have a sign on my back again? Cuz i swear my brother is gonna get it!” He tried to wipe off the back of his jacket and you smile and say “No… No… just don’t see many people like you around here.” Dean arched a brow crossing his arms, “I’ve been here for years.” You took your bag he held and shook his hand. “I’m y/n…” He looked at your piercing (e/c) eyes and smiles a charismatic Dean Winchester smile, with the charm and all.

 “You made me forget why i even came here in the first place,” Dean lies. He didn’t want to remember the faces of those lives lost. He liked looking at you.  You made him feel safe. Instant friendship, even though you both met just now. 

~3 weeks later~

Dean and you spent a lot of time together. He was afraid to tell you about his hunting lifestyle. Everyone he told got hurt. Especially women. You kept pressing him to go to his house and asking ‘Why haven’t you taken me to your place?’ Eventually Dean tells you, “I think being at your place makes things less complicated.” You started thinking of all the things he would be hiding from you. He was your best friend. Why would he hide anything from you? You stopped contacting him and thats when he had Sam come with him to go check on you. He was afraid someone had kidnapped you, someone had found out about his new friend. You are a great person and the best friend he had ever had.

You started crying in your hallway floor. You felt worthless. You wonder what YOU had done wrong. You wished you could make a friendship without it going horribly or scaring him away. Someone who cared. You thought that was Dean, apparently not.  

Sam knocked on the door and then dean put his hands in his pockets. He was going to tell you about his secret about hunting. He knew it was time. He knew you deserved no secrets. 

You got up and answered the door and slowly turned to sit on the couch. “Dean.” Sam smiled and introduced himself to you. “Im dean's younger brother. Nice to meet you.” You tilted your head and looked at dean. “I thought you didn't want me to see anything about your life.” Dean shook his head. “I was wrong.” He sat on the couch as you wiped your eyes. “It was all a bunch of crap. You are a good friend. I haven't made many in the past decade.” He laughed to himself. “I like hanging out with you.” “You dont think im too young or childish or stupid or…” Dean shook his head. “Nope. Not one bit.” You nodded your head looking at your hands thinking. 

“y/n you didn’t do anything. You got it? It’s me who had been keeping secrets of who i am. You were out and open with me from the beginning…” She tilted her head. “What are….” “Shhhh…. Ok. My brother and I are hunters.” “Its ok just dont invite ME.” Sam ran a hand through his hair. “No…. i dont think you get it… we hunt demons and angels and ghosts, wendigos. You name it. We’ve fought it. Hey you have made my brother happy. Thanks.” 

Dean kneeled next to you and took your hands and looked up to your eyes from the floor you on the couch. “Is it real dean? You dont have to lie to me.” Dean nods. “Its real sweetheart. Ever since we were born. And we live in a bunker thats why you havent been able to come over. Thats why i dont want you to be worried or wanna come over. I think we just need to go over there right now and know that you are awesome!” Dean winked. He quickly hugged you. “We both worried each other bat shit crazy. But thats what friends do. Make each other wanna jump off some cliffs together. We’ve both had our demons.”

You had always told him everything about your past and you loved spending time with him. Now you knew about his as more weeks go on you both learned more and more about each other. Best friend award.

for my sister.

[kpophours]

Prince of Hell

➵ VAV: (demon) Ace x fem. reader / one shot, demon AU / fluff, angst

➵ warnings: mentions of violence, mentions of death, mentions of alcohol

➵ word count: 3.5k

➵ series: Baron, Ayno, St. Van, Ziu, Lou, Ace

To spend eternity in Hell had been worth saving your little brother’s life.

So you will definitely never regret that decision.

Nevertheless… Hell sucks (shocker, right?).

It just drags on, endlessly. Minutes feel like hours, hours like days and days like weeks.

You have no idea how long you’re already here — probably a few years by now or at least that’s what it feels like.

There’s a little light in all this darkness that is your afterlife though — you got a job.

Sounds weird, right? A job in hell (well some jobs on earth are hell(ish), you guess). But well, at least you’ve got something to do. 

Even if it’s just filing endless lists of souls that are ready to be harvested by demons. 

If you weren’t so tired of Hell per se, you would find it funny, being a demon secretary.

At first you thought you could maybe make some of those list vanish, but your supervisor made it pretty clear that such a foolish attempt would mean endless torture for you.

Even though you were a hunter during your human life, protecting earth and its inhabitants from the supernatural world, you apparently lost all your nerve upon entering Hell. 

To be fair, some of the human souls you file and write on your lists deserve to be in Hell — murderers, kidnappers, sometimes an extremely corrupt politician. So you don’t always feel bad for handing out those lists to the demons.

For some time now, there’s been a new demon coming into your office to ask for your lists. You have never seen him before, but as everyone treats him with extreme respect (and a bit of fear), he can’t be a newbie. 

He goes by the name of Ace. 

„My list for today, please.“

You look up and directly into Ace’s more than handsome face. 

You wonder if this is what he looked like before becoming a demon or if this is just a form he chose for himself. He definitely has good taste, should the latter be the case.

„Just a second.“, you answer, turning around and opening the first drawer of the cabinet behind you. This is where you keep the lists with some of the worst cases — somehow you feel better when you know Ace only retrieves those really foul souls. 

„There you go.“, you say when you find his list, handing it over. When he reaches for it, your hands brush for a second and you feel your breath hitch.

His hand is warm and the little bit of contact between your bodies actually makes your heart flutter.

Are you already that starved for any form of contact? Well, the answer is yes. You haven’t had contact with any human soul in ages and most of the demons treat you like dirt (which to them, you obviously are).

Ace isn’t like that — he actually treats you with respect, continuously smiling at you, his eyes always kind. 

He’s definitely different from all the other demons coming into your office. 

„Thank you.“ Ace clears his throat. „So… How’s Hell treating you these days?“, he asks in a conversational tone.

You blink a few times. „Uh… Well. It’s Hell.“, you answer carefully, not really sure what to say, „But this job makes it more endurable, I guess?“

The handsome demon nods curtly. „Sounds good. Well, thank you for the list. See you tomorrow.“

With that, he’s off, leaving you in your confused state behind.

Ace continues to make smalltalk over the next few weeks (or years, who knows how time is actually passing in Hell). Slowly, you begin to relax around him, even telling him a few things about your human life. He seems to be really interested in the stories of your hunter life, asking you all kind of questions. At first, you’re a bit suspicious (what if he uses the information against your family? Against the Council?), but you quickly notice that he really just wants to know more about you.

So you actually begin to look forward to your daily interactions, probably because they’re the only times when you feel more human again, when you’re almost able to forget about being stuck in Hell. It makes your heart flutter, something you didn’t even know was still possible for you.

It also helps that Ace is more than easy on the eyes, of course. Even though you would never admit that out loud. 

The first time you realize you might have more than just friendly feelings for Ace, is when another demon almost kills you. 

It’s not your fault — you simply gather the names given to you, write them on lists and distribute them to different demons. You don’t decide which soul has to be retrieved.

And yet, that demon seems to think otherwise. 

One second, you’re sitting on your desk, shuffling through some papers and the next, you’re being pressed against the wall, two hands around your neck and a pair of red-glowing eyes in front of you. „One of the souls was a trap.“, he hisses at you, his grip tightening even more. 

You choke, body trembling. You know what demons are capable of, having been tortured just for the fun of it more often than you can count. 

„I didn’t-“, you manage to gasp, but before you can finish your reply, the demon is pulled away from you. Ace stands in the middle of the office, both hands burrowed into his dark trousers, appearing to be almost a bit bored. The other demon is writhing on the ground in front of you, ushering silent screams, his face a mask of absolute terror. It’s a bizarre sight and you’re unable to look away. 

„Are you okay, Y/N?“, Ace asks in a friendly tone, but you hear the barely suppressed anger behind his calm voice.

„Yes.“, you rasp, clearing your throat and finally looking away from the still writhing demon. Ace doesn’t look at you, his gaze focused on the other demon. 

„You will never touch her again. Do you understand?“, his voice is low, threatening.

You notice that his eyes are glowing as well - not red though. 

They’re… golden.

A color you always associated with angels, not demons.

Finally, he seems to let go of the other demon, who jumps up, trembling and bowing towards Ace. „Yes, my Prince.“, he mumbles, eyes sliding towards you and giving you one last hateful look, before sprinting out of your office.

You lock eyes with Ace, who smiles somewhat embarrassedly at you.

„You… you’re a Prince of Hell?“, you squeak, unconsciously pressing yourself closer to the wall behind you. During your life as a hunter, you got to know everything about the Princes — the hands of Lucifer himself, feared by all but the Unholy Lord himself.

„Uh, yeah.“, Ace simply says, scratching the back of his head, „Please don’t be afraid though. I won’t hurt you.“ 

He’s probably telling the truth, seeing how he just saved you from that other demon. Still, you decide to keep some distance between you, nodding curtly before quickly taking the place behind your desk again.

„You’re here for your list I guess?“ You sound way too nervous, but Ace is too nice to comment on it. He just nods, leaning over the desk and locking eyes with you. 

„Has he ever done something like that before?“, he asks lowly, his gaze worried. 

You gulp, averting your eyes and nervously beginning to shuffle some papers in front of you. 

„Y/N, answer me. Please.“

„I- well, this is Hell, so what did you expect? Of course he did something like that before. He or someone of the other demons, who knows which one.“, you answer somewhat exasperated, actually throwing your hands in the air, „But that’s what I signed up for when I struck my deal, so I can’t complain.“

Ace looks a bit taken aback by your sudden outburst, but nods slowly. „I get it. Well, don’t worry — no one will ever touch you again. I’ll make sure of it.“

You blink a few times. „Why?“ 

He shrugs. „I know this is Hell, but we do have a few rules. And torturing one of our best workers definitely is against those. And… well. After all, I was an angel before becoming a Prince of Hell.“ He almost whispers the last part. 

You cock your head to one side. „So it’s true that all Princes were angels once?“, you ask just as quietly. 

Ace raises one eyebrow. „Right, you were a hunter when you were alive.“, he mumbles more to himself, before answering you: „Most were, yes. But not all. The Fall was a very long time ago, so new Princes emerged and old ones vanished.“

„But you are one of the originals.“ You sound like you’re stating a fact, so Ace simply smiles secretively at you. You take it as affirmation. 

„Well, thank you for saving me. And wanting to protect me from now on.“

„Don’t mention it.“

With that, he plucks the list out of your hand, happily strolling out the room.

… And he’s actually whistling.

„I don’t know what this is, Baron.“, Ace says, burying his head between his hands.

The angel opposite him takes a sip of wine, raising one eyebrow. „Do I really have to spell it out for you?“

The demon simply glares, making the blond man shrug. „God doesn’t give second chances easily, so take it.“, Baron says, more gently this time. 

Ace sighs, sipping on his beer. „I know. It’s just… very confusing. I swear, I felt my heart stop the second I laid eyes on her.“

The angel just nods, listening intently. 

„I really like talking to her. She’s so funny! And she’s still very optimistic, even though she’s been in Hell for over 25 years now. And she’s great at telling stories. And-“

„Ace. This is your chance. Take it.“, Baron interrupts his friend’s rambling, „You know saving one human soul out of selflessness and love can reinstate you as an angel.“

The Prince of Hell just sighs again. „I know. But I don’t want to pressure her or anything like that. She just began to trust me, telling me more about her family and human life. I don’t want to scare her away by jumping something like that on her.“

The angel just smiles secretively. If he’s correct, he will soon have his oldest friend back at his side  - because Ace really doesn’t seem to notice that he’s already acting selflessly. And soon probably out of love, too. 

Ace drowns the last of his beer, standing up and looking down at the blond man. „I have to get back, now. And I heard there’s someone waiting for you as well.“

At this, Baron’s smile turns soft, his eyes forming little crescents. „I do actually.“ With that, he stands up as well, „I’ll see you soon, my friend.“ 

Ace just smiles, before returning to Hell.

Days and weeks blend into one another, Ace becoming a steady part of your daily routine. His soft smiles, little jokes and overall playful persona make your heart flutter from time to time.

You actually notice that you begin to find Hell more bearable, being under Ace’s protection obviously helping with that. No demon has laid hands on you again. 

Today, Ace seems even more cheerful than usually, whistling again when he enters your small office. You look up, smiling already. 

He grins brightly, leaning over your desk and closer to you. „Are you interested in a little journey, Y/N?“, he asks in a low voice, wiggling his eyebrows playfully. 

You begin to frown, tilting your head to one side. „What do you mean?“

He props his chin onto one hand, a small smile still playing on his lips. „Well, I got permission to take you out of Hell for a while. To help me with something on Earth.“

Your mouth actually falls open at that. „What?!“, you squeal, clapping your hands in delight, „I’m going back to Earth?!“

Ace knits his eyebrows together, grimacing a bit. „Well, only for a short amount of time. You need to be back in Hell at sunrise.“, he explains, „But I actually need your help with something, so I got permission to take you with me.“

You smile angelically. „I’m going back to Earth! I don’t care for how long.“ Then, you hesitate for a second, „What do you need my help for, though?“

„Nothing… uh, bad, I promise. It was a request actually.“

This makes you even more suspicious. „A request? Who would request me?“

Ace walks around the desk to stand in front of your, sporting a small frown when he’s looking down at you. „Your brother.“

The world around you begins to spin, black spots appearing in your vision — can souls have a panic attack? Because you’re pretty sure you have one right now. 

„Y/N? Please calm down. Your brother’s not in trouble, I promise. He did make a deal with me, but it’s nothing bad. Just five years of his life, nothing major — he will live to an old age anyway, so this means nothing. Really, I promise!“, Ace rambles, placing both hands on your shoulders and applying a bit of pressure. It actually grounds you, the world around you returning to its normal state again.

„I- I’m okay.“, you stammer and Ace nods relieved, letting his hands fall away from you.

„Good.“

„What deal did he make though? For what?“ 

„The Council is in search of a special colt — it is able to kill any supernatural creature with just one bullet. Well, except for demons of course. And I will provide your brother with the information needed for finding the Colt and for making new bullets. But he also said he wants to see you. He gave another of his years just for that.“

You pinch the bridge of your nose, tears brimming in your eyes. 

Your stupid, stupid brother.

To a demon like Ace, who’s immortal and never changing, five years might not seem like a lot, but for a mere human like your brother, it’s too much. 

Well, at least that’s what you think. 

You didn’t give your whole life away to have your brother give his years away like this.

„This is all thanks to the stupid Council.“, you grimace, „I bet he made him do this.“

Ace shrugs. „Possible. I know the Council can be quite a handful sometimes. At least, that’s what I heard.“ His eyes twinkle at that and he actually has the audacity to wink at you (yes, you were the one telling him about the Council being an absolute asshole sometimes). You blush a bit, crossing your arms in front of your chest. 

„Well, the deal is made. So there’s nothing I can do about it except give him an earful when I see him.“, you say, heart fluttering at the prospect of seeing your little brother again. 

You don’t even know how old he is by now. 

„That is right. So, let’s go.“, Ace agrees, holding out his hand for you to take.

You hesitate for a second, before gripping it tightly.

The next second, you’re not in Hell anymore, but standing in an open field.

The moon hangs low already and only a few stars are lazily twinkling down at you. It won’t be long until the sun’s going to rise. 

„Y/N?“, a male voice says from behind you, making you whirl around and letting go of Ace’s hand.

Behind you stands a man in his early fourties. He is tall and has broad shoulders, his hair is just beginning to gray and he has a few lines on his forehead and around his eyes.

Eyes you know too well — looking at you in a pleading way, asking for more sweets.

Being filled with tears when a favorite toy was lost.

Gazing up at you in awe and wonder whenever you did something pretty ordinary (like being able to patch up a tattered teddy bear). 

„Mark?“, you ask in a breathless voice.

A smile lights up his whole face and he takes a step towards you.

You look at Ace, a questioning look on your face. The demon simply nods, staying silent, both hands buried in the pockets of his black trousers.

That’s all you need, flinging yourself at your brother, who crushes you between his arms, hugging you tightly. He smells so different from what you remember, but he still feels familiar and like your little brother. Even though he’s looking so much older than you now.

„You are such an idiot.“, you say, voice sounding both muffled thanks to your face being pressed against Mark’s chest and tearful.

„I’m sorry.“, he chuckles, taking a step back and taking a good look at your face, „You look exactly like I remember you.“

„Well and you got old.“, you retort, smiling softly and touching some of his grey hairs. 

He laughs. „I know. I feel it in my bones.“ 

You release a deep breath. „So. You’re here to get information of the Colt.“, you say, frowning, „Did the Council make you do struck a deal? I swear, I’ll come back as a ghost and haunt him!“

Mark raises both eyebrows. „Y/N, I am the Council now.“

You choke a bit. „You- what?!“

„A lot of time passed since your death, Y/N. I’m one of the oldest ones now.“, Mark explains, shrugging a bit, „I was voted as the Head.“

You take a tiny step back, taking a deep breath. „Wow, yeah okay. I… that seems logical. Why do you need The Colt so badly, though? It seems like you didn’t want to lose any more time.“

Mark nods. „That’s right. Recently, a witch came back onto our radar — last time she was seen, she killed over 20 people and almost half the Elders of her own Coven. She’s protected by a demonic force, so we’ll need the Colt to finally end her.“

„A demonic force?“ At this, you turn around to look at Ace, both eyebrows raised.

He shrugs, smiling apologetically. „Not by me, I swear.“ 

You squint critically at him, but his face betrays nothing.

You look at your brother again. „Well, I hope this will be worth it. Five years are a lot, Mark.“

He simply smiles. „I know, Y/N. And I know you’re probably thinking that I’m throwing away the gift you gave me — your life in exchange for mine. But this is important to me. My son needs the Colt.“

Tears fill your eyes. „You have a son?“, you choke out, wiping away some of the tears rolling down your cheek. 

Mark takes your hand in his, pressing it gently. „I do. His name is Lou.“

You close your eyes, smiling sadly. „Lou.“, you repeat softly. 

Just then, the first rays of sunlight begin to touch the field you’re standing on. 

You whirl around, panic contorting your face when you look at Ace. 

He smiles sadly. „I’m sorry, Y/N. It’s time to go hom- uh, back.“ He extends his hand towards you, but Mark holds onto you. „No. This was too little time.“, he says, panic and tears evident in his voice, „I… I can’t let you go again.“ 

You breathe in, closing your eyes for a few seconds. 

„It’s okay, Mark. This was the deal you struck.“, you retort softly, touching his cheek and looking into his eyes, „Get that Colt and give it to your son. Continue on with life and try to forget about me, okay?“

He shakes his head. „I will never forget about you, you know that.“, he answers forcefully, pulling you in his arms and engulfing you in a bone-crushing hug, „I love you.“

You smile, choking on your tears. „I love you, too.“

With that, you step away from your little brother until you’re back at Ace’s side again. You think you feel the soft brush of his fingers against yours, but it’s too quick to tell. He walks over to your brother, handing him a few loose papers.

„Good luck. You’ll need it with Nightbringer.“ Without another word, Ace turns around and takes your hand in his. 

You look one last time at your brother, raising one hand in a farewell. Tears run down his cheeks and he presses one hand over his heart. 

You turn away from him, looking up at the demon beside you, who’s smiling softly at you. Your heart flutters at the simple gesture and his hand on the small of your back isn’t helping at all. 

You smile at your Prince of Hell, tilting your head to one side. „Let’s get back, then.“

And with that, Ace takes you back to Hell.

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Fic Rec List #2 10/28/18

If any of the links don’t work, please let me know!. Just wanted to say thank you to all the authors on this list. You and all the effort you put into your fics are very much appreciated 💖

Kiss of Life by @sincerelymlg

Summary: Bucky and the reader go on a mission that quickly takes a turn for the worst. 

Flustered by @notimetoblog

Summary: It’s easy to see when Bucky is flustered. His mannerisms are beyond adorable but they might be hiding something more. --- I’m such a hoe for soft!bucky. I loved this fic, its so sweet and endearing.

Quick Stories by @notimetoblog  

Summary: Waking up early with Bucky is not always so bad. Bucky x reader.

Marry Me by @buckymorelikefuckmebarnes

Summary: Wedding day. (thats a shitty summary im so sorry) --- You thought this fics was shit but HA you are so wrong because it broke me :) Bucky x Reader

Death Do Us Part by @sgtjbuccky

Summary: For centuries, the God of Death had known two things about mortals. One, they were his job, his to collect when their days came to an end, and two, they were obnoxiously odd beings. Their purpose ceased to make sense to him. Never did he understand thy they created a life for themselves, why they loved, why they love other morals when they knew none of it would last forever. It was nothing but sheer stupidity, but that was until he met you. A mortal unlike any other. A mortal that would make him question everything. A mortal that would teach the God of Death how to live. God of Death!Bucky x Mortal!Reader. Ongoing series --- Wow. Where do I even begin? I absolutely love this series, its so different from others that I’ve read. I loved every chapter. 

A Supernatural Marvel by @angelkurenai

Summary: Imagine being transported in the Supernatural universe, with no memory of your life, where you become a hunter and fall in love with Dean. Only for a very important person from your past to come looking for you and change it all. Dean Winchester x Reader, Steve Rodgers x Reader. Ongoing series. --- This is one of my current favorite series!! You really know how to keep us on our toes, I love it!!

Take Me Higher by @buckychrist

Summary: Who knew that the way into the big broody super soldier’s heart was through his unmet need for a good cuddle? Bucky x Reader. --- If a fic has a cuddly bucky, sign me the fuck up. I loved this, its so sweet.

Educating Bucky by @buckfics

Virgin 1930′s Bucky x Reader. Smut. --- Holy fuck. This has got to be my absolute favorite smut I’ve literally ever read. I get so happy when it pops up on my dash again. There isn't a damn thing I dont love about this fic. Its so sweet and believable and I just cant stop myself from reading it.

Sincerely, Me by @buckitybarnes

Summary: Bucky Barnes is a quiet fellow when it comes to socializing with you. After one mishap, however, he finds a way to communicate his feelings without speaking so much. You’ve soon come to learn not every relationship has to be verbal to be important. Bucky x Reader. Completed series.

A Week in Boston by @blacktithe7 

Summary: It was your first vacation in years. Just one week all by yourself in the big city of Boston. No rules. No expectations. Just a list of places to go and things you wanted to see. That all changed the you run into a certain blue-eyed Boston boy who turned your world upside down. Is it really possible to fall in love with someone in just one week? Or is that kind of love just a fairytale? Chris Evens x Reader. Ongoing series. 

Stubborn Love by @barnesrogersvstheworld

Prompt: You cant live your life based on “what-ifs”. Steve Roders x Reader. --- This was so intense, I loved every word.

Date Night by @jaamesbbarnes

Summary: Heavily pregnant but very tired, you still insist to go out for your usual date night with your boyfriend. Chris Beck x Reader. --- This is one of the sweetest fics I ever read. I’ve never heard of “stardust” being used as a pet name and I swear my heart exploded when I read it.

Body Guard by @oliverwxod

Summary: Tony Stark is a very rich man and with that came a lot of enemies. After a tragic event Tony decides himself and the people most important to him, especially his daughter, are in danger. He hires personal body guards. Bucky Barnes is assigned to Y/n Stark, the most troublesome, reckless Stark that there is. Bucky x Reader. Body guard!AU. Ongoing series.--- Absolutely loved this series! So many twists and turns!

40 Days by @abaddonwithyall

Summary: Dean and you are already in an established relationship when he tempts you to give up orgasms for Lent. The only catch? Anyone and Everyone is open to trying to get you off. Let the games begin. Dean x Reader. Eventual Sam x reader, Castiel x reader, Gabriel x reader, Crowley x reader, Charlie x reader, Bela x reader, John x reader, Gadreel x reader, Lucifer x reader, Rowena x reader, Benny x reader, Jo x reader etc. Smut. Uncompleted series. (its from 2016, only the last two parts are missing but its all good) --- This is pure filth and its amazing.

Starved by @theonewiththefanfics

Summary: The Reader is a touchy-feely kind of a person and when she joins the Avengers nothing changes. Apart from the fact that Bucky Barnes is so touch starved, he craves for the soft feel of her skin against his and is over the moon when she treats him the same way she treats everybody else. Yet now day she simply stops, and he doesn't know why. Bucky x reader. Smut

You Aren't My Father by @winchesters-favorite-girl

Summary: When Sam shuts the gates of hell, Dean promised that he would take care of Sam’s little girl. However, things didn't go the way anybody suspected. After Dean settles into his apple pie life, he drifts away from his niece, who decided to take her future into her own hands. Uncle!Dean x Niece!Reader. Angst. Completed series. --- Holy crap. This is one of the best fics I've read, I read this series a long, long time ago and I’m still thinking about it.

My Turn by @sis-tafics

Summary: You and Dean are blowing off some steam. Dean x reader. Smut.

Afraid of the Flame by @thosekidswhohuntmonsters

Summary: Bucky learns from a surprising friend that you shouldn't live a life of things unsaid. Bucky x reader. 

It’s My Favorite Movie by @notnaturalanahi

Summary: Classice movie challenge. Movie prompt: “Are you not entertained?” Gladiator - 2000. Sam Winchester x reader. Smut

The Pumpkin Carver by @softlybarnes

Summary: Bucky and Y/N prepare for Halloween, when Bucky realizes something. Bucky x reader. --- I love The Florist and The Beekeeper so much, I was so happy to see you wrote another part. I loved it.

Watching by @mrsjohnsmith

Summary: Dean likes to watch. Sam x reader x Voyeur!Dean. Smut

Stepping Sideways by @siren-kitten-his

Summary: She steps sideways between worlds just watching those that live there...until Jefferson catches her eye. Jefferson (OUAT) x Fae!OC Mae. Smut. --- This is the first ever Jefferson fic I’ve read and i loved it!!

Ride by @wayward-and-worn

Summary: Sam and Y/N are in an established relationship. The milestones that had to cross to get this far go without saying. She's never been on top. Sam Winchester x Plus!Reader. Smut

All that Glitters by @moonbeambucky

Summary: Natasha found a sneaky way to get you to reveal your secret relationship. Bucky x reader. Smut. --- I LOVED this, its so clever and hilarious.

The Unimaginable by @moonbeambucky

Summary: As Bucky’s wife and mother of his child, you always worried for him when he was on a mission. This last mission will change your life forever. Bucky x reader. Angst. --- When i read the summary, I thought I had an idea about what was going to happen but it was so much worse. There were so many tears.

My Love, by @emilyevanston

Summary: Steve writes you a letter every time he goes on a mission. They usually arrive after he gets back. Steve x reader.

The Fiancé by @mycapt-ohcapt

Summary: Life takes an unexpected twist when you and Steve Rogers have to pretend to be engaged to cover up your little white lie. Steve x reader. Fake dating!AU. Completed mini series.

I Can’t Swim by @revengingbarnes

Summary: The reader pretends to drown to grab the attention of the hot lifeguard who looks after the beach. Lies don’t last long though, and eventually it backfires. Lifeguard!Bucky x reader. --- I LOVED this, its so cute and sweet. I had this goofy ass smile on my face the whole time I read it.

Sound by @bucky-barfs

Summary: You and Steve have been pining after each other for a while. Both to afraid to make a more, that is until you're stuck in a limo in heavy traffic. Steve x reader. Smut.

Crowded Places by @papi-chulo-bucky

Summary: You have a hard time warming up to Bucky, who constantly rejects you. But one day after his Winter Soldier mode is triggered, it seems there’s more to his brooding and stand off demeanor than he let’s on. Bucky x Reader/Winter Soldier x reader. --- I loved this!!! I’ve never read one like this and it turned out so sweet and weirdly endearing.

Memories and Music by @bitsandbobsandstuff

Summary: When you follow the sound of beautiful music, you find Bucky Barnes in front of the piano, and wonder if your heart might break just a little. Bucky x reader.

Three Shades of a Man by @bitsandbobsandstuff

Summary: It was different every time, what Bucky needed from you to survive himself. It was in these moments you saw the shades behind the mask he work in front of the world. Bucky x reader. Smut. Completed mini series. --- The first chapter was so intense and such a difference compared to chapel three, which I absolutely loved. It was so sweet and relieving to see their relationship like that after reading the first two chapters. I loved it.

Trepidation by @cumonbucky

Summary: Everything your world was right until Bucky’s ex girlfriend came along. Bucky x reader. Completed mini series. --- This was so good, I just had to add it to the list so we can all share a mutual annoyance at how stupid Bucky was in this fic. Like is he really that clueless or is he just that stupid??? Homegirl should of had a smack down with Dot but either way I absolutely loved this fic!

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