#the circles i ran in after that meant I only ever heard anything about lucifer after that point and I disliked everything i heard so

[lionofstone]

every day i come closer to rewatching supernatural

#ljs life #only the first five seasons tho idk if i could bring myself to go beyond that xoxo #also i only ever watched until season….9? #the circles i ran in after that meant I only ever heard anything about lucifer after that point and I disliked everything i heard so #i was never tempted to go back and finish #the first five seasons tho….i could be convinced perhaps

[scorlettimagines]

Hurt: A Nick Scratch Imagine

Request from @thehappygrungelife​: I would like to request a Female!reader x nick scratch, where reader is Sabrina's lost little sister (only a year or two), and they found each other again at the Academy. Reader is a way darker version of Sabrina, friends with the weird sisters but really close to her sister. Nick and reader are dating despite Sabrina and the Dark Lord (Satan) being against it. So he always punishes her physically until it gets too much and Nick sad to see his girlfriend like that breakup with her but finally they get back together (you can decide how :) )

Hope this is okay for you lovely, and enjoy x 

“What are you talking about?” Nick crossed his arms, taking in Sabrina’s words. It was bad enough that his friend didn’t approve of his relationship with her sister, but to be accused of this, of hurting her, was inexcusable.

Nick would never hurt Y/N Morningstar. She was everything to him. She was beautiful, he had thought so the first time he had seen her. Dragged out of Hell by her older sister, reunited with her father who attempted to welcome her as the second daughter of Lucifer Morningstar, the King of Hell.

Nick had almost laughed when Y/N looked at him like she was bored.

Y/N had decided not to stay in Hell after being rescued from the ninth circle. She had been trapped down there long enough, and it was clear to anyone the damage it had done. But Nick didn’t call it damage, he called it battle scars, only ones that no-one could see. Well, no-one but him, but even that had taken time.

She had blended in well at the Academy, finding a familiar darkness with the Weird Sisters. But she was still close with Sabrina, and it was through their sisterly bond that Nick had fallen in love with her.

They had been together for almost three months now, and Nick was due to take her out the following evening. He secretly hoped that it might be the night they finally indulged in each other’s bodies, the night Nick would finally be able to show her just how much he loved her.

He had come over to see her, but she wasn’t home, and so Sabrina had taken the opportunity to pull him aside, implying that they needed to talk. He knew she was just trying to be protective of her sister, but Nick couldn’t help that she was reiterating her father’s views.

Lucifer Morningstar certainly had had things to say about Y/N dating Nick.

Neither of them had really cared.

Until now, as Sabrina explained what she meant when she accused Nick of hurting the one person he had ever truly loved. “Lucifer is hurting her, Nick. She’s got these claw marks down her back. He’s punishing her for being with you.”

Nick felt his heart sink. “Why hasn’t she said anything?”

Sabrina shrugged. “Because she’s Y/N. She’s stubborn and self-righteous and headstrong. But she’s my sister and I care about her, which is why I’m telling you. Which is why whatever’s going on between you two needs to stop.”

“You can leave now Sabrina, thanks.” Nick and Sabrina turned at the sound of Y/N’s voice. She stood in the doorway, a stony expression on her face that both knew was reserved for those who had wronged her. Her sister got the hint, and made a quick exit, leaving Nick and Y/N alone. She looked at him. “So she told you.”

Nick walked over to his girlfriend. “Show me.”

Y/N sighed, before turning her back to him. Nick pulled down the back of her shirt, and felt physically sick at what he saw. Red lines ran through her perfect skin, tearing at it and at his heart. He accidentally brushed his finger along one of scratches, and felt her wince. It was seeing her hurt, seeing her in so much pain that made him say his next words, no matter how much they crushed him. “I think Sabrina’s right.”

Y/N turned, fear in her eyes. “What are you talking about?”

“I think we need to break up, Y/N.”

Nick hoped she would protest, that she would make some attempt to fight him. But for the first time since he had met her, she looked as if she hated him. He hated that look. He hated it even more when she spoke. “Go. Just go.”

That was a week ago. Nick thought he knew what Hell was before he had tried to live without Y/N, but his thoughts didn’t even come close to the week he had had. He had tried to call Y/N, wished for her to call him, but he never heard anything from her.

He had never realised how much he truly loved her until he didn’t have her anymore.

He knew deep down that he had done the right thing, that he was protecting her. But that didn’t stop him from regretting his actions. It took him another two days to realise how stupid he had been.

Nick was a fighter. So was Y/N. They always had been.

It wasn’t the first time they had faced Lucifer, nor it would be the last.

And Nick realised that he didn’t want to do it without Y/N by his side.

Which was why he made the decision to get her back.

The following day, he marched into the Academy, looking for her. When he laid eyes on her, he felt his heart beat fast, and he ignored the look of hatred on her face.

Instead, he strode over to her, taking her by surprise as he kissed her like he had never kissed her before.

Y/N’s hands slid into his hair as she fell into him, and for the first time in a week, Nick finally felt whole. When they parted, she looked at him. “What are you doing?”

“Winning you back.”

“But what about Lucifer?”

“We’ll figure it out. We always do. I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Nick.”

That evening, Nick finally took her out on that date. That night, he finally showed her just what she meant to him.

And he promised to make sure that she would never be hurt again.

NICK SCRATCH MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

#caos #caos imagines #caos imagine #chilling adventures of sabrina imagines #Chilling Adventures of Sabrina #chilling adventures of sabrina imagine #nick scratch #nick scratch x reader #nick scratch imagine #nick scratch imagines #Nicholas Scratch #nicholas scratch imagines #nicholas scratch x reader #nicholas scratch imagine #gavin leatherwood

[y-so-hungry]

Midnight Food For Thought

Beelzebub x MC

Ok I wasn't sure whether to write it as "MC did this, they did that" or "you did this, you did that" or even "I did this, I did that" for this fic, so I went with the first option, lemme know if you guys prefer it a different style (I don't mind any way) and I'll keep that in mind for if/when I write another one of these!

This wasn’t the first time MC had gone downstairs for a midnight snack and found Beel already in the kitchen, but this was the first time they’d seen him in demon form at this hour. They supposed that’s why they lingered just by the steps, watching rather than going in. Not that he was scary in this form, but they worried he was upset, and would rather not be bothered. Beel didn’t have his head in the fridge like usual, oddly enough he seemed to be making something. Usually he was too hungry and tired at night to cook, so it was rather odd to see him kneading dough.

What was odder than that was it seemed he didn’t actually have any other ingredients out, just flour and a cup of water next to him. MC watched for a couple more minutes as he continued making more and more of this dough, adding flour and water and flour and water over and over again until the ball of dough was as wide as a dinner plate. That seems to be when he ran out of flour.

He sighed an oddly miserable sigh, and MC watched in confusion as he took a handful of dough and started… eating it. And it was only when he sat down a second later that they actually caught sight of his face.

There were tears running down his cheeks.

“Beel?” they said, finally calling attention to themself. Beel snapped up, fear flashing through his violet eyes before he saw them. After that, all that showed on his face was a mixture of guilt and embarrassment, his face turning as red as his hair and eyes filling with even more tears.

“Beel?” MC repeated, making their way into the kitchen. “What’s wrong, why are you crying? And why are you just eating dough? I’m sure there’s something a lot better than that to eat.”

Beel looked down and took another bite of his pitiful midnight snack.

“There wasn’t,” he muttered.

“What? What do you mean?”

“There wasn’t anything else to eat,” he said, louder this time. “It was all gone, there was only a little bit of flour left. I-I didn’t know what else to do. I’m s-so hungry, I-I didn’t think I’d make it to Hell’s Kitchen before I passed out o-or something so I-I just--” he cut off with a tiny sob, raising a wrist to scrub at his eye.

“Oh Beel, I’m so sorry,” MC said, wrapping their arms around his shoulders and pulling his head to rest against them. His horns didn’t feel exactly comfortable against their ribcage, but they didn’t really care at the moment. “I could’ve sworn there was plenty of food earlier today--jeez I don’t know what happened to it all.” They gazed around at the now completely bare cupboards, feeling almost angry at them for being empty despite the fact it’s not actually their fault.

“There was food! I saw it! We must’ve eaten it all at dinner, I didn’t even go in the kitchen to make sure I’d have something for tonight,” Beel said. His stomach snarled right then, and he quickly shoved another handful of dough in his mouth, grimacing at the taste.

“There should be more, Lucifer always takes into account how much you need to eat--wait, who went shopping this week?” MC asked.

“Mammon,” Beel growled. “He probably spent half the money on some sale and didn’t get enough food.”

“Goddammit Mammon,” MC said, pinching their brow and squeezing their eyes shut. I’ll have to beat him up later, they thought. Snag his credit card, buy poor Beel all the cheeseburgers he wants. They opened their eyes to see the hungry demon was already halfway through his tiny meal, more tears coursing down his face as he watched his food disappear.

“Hey,” they said softly, cupping his cheek and tilting his head up so he could meet their eyes. “We’re gonna go get you something to eat, okay? Something real, not just sticky dough. We’re gonna go to Hell’s Kitchen and you’ll end up so full your shirt doesn’t fit right, how does that sound?”

The rumble that sounded from Beel’s stomach at the suggestion seemed to be rather painful; he wrapped both his arms tightly around his belly, curling in on himself with gritted teeth and a small whimper.

“Oh Beel,” MC murmured, running a hand through his flaming hair. They gently pulled his arms until he stood up, still clutching his grumbling belly. They quickly grabbed his glob of dough still on the table and handed it to him, hoping it would be enough to tide him over until they both got to Hell’s Kitchen.

~~~

MC called the restaurant on the way, letting them know the situation, so despite the fact that it was a rather busy night at Hell’s Kitchen, they were seated quickly, and in a quiet, secluded area of the restaurant. Beel asked for his usual, a large plate of burgers, and said he’d give MC a few. He always seemed to forget that MC didn’t need ten whole burgers to feel full, but they appreciated the thought nonetheless.

Beel’s dough was long gone now, and he kept pressing his fingers deep into his stomach, it’s rumbles only growing louder with time. Besides his belly though, Beel himself was rather quiet, staring down at the empty table with his eyes unfocused and far away.

“You okay, Beel?” MC asked. They felt a little stupid as soon as they said it; it’s quite clear that he’s not okay. But he blinked and glanced at them, seeming to understand what they meant.

“I just… really hate when this happens,” he muttered. “I get all wound up and upset, and now everyone gets to see the Avatar of Gluttony being an idiot and crying because he didn’t have enough of his stupid snacks.”

His face was screwed up now, anger and disgust warping his features into an expression MC wasn’t sure they’d ever seen on him before. They’d never seen him so repulsed, not even when he found out about Lucifer trapping Belphie in the attic.

“Beel, you shouldn’t say such mean things about yourself. You’re not being an idiot, and your snacks aren’t stupid, you need them, and that’s okay. You shouldn’t beat yourself up about this, it’s not your fault,” MC said, putting a hand on his shoulder and squeezing it gently. But his words were still bitter when he answered.

“I bet none of my brothers ever cry about their sins. Why can’t I just be like that? Why do I have to burst into tears if I miss breakfast in the morning, or if someone eats the rest of something I saved for later? Why can’t I just calm down?” Beel muttered, wrapping his arms more protectively over his belly. His shoulders and legs were tensed up so hard MC wondered if it hurt, he looked like he was trying to curl in on himself. Even his wings were wrapped around him, all in an attempt to protect his middle. His muscles bunched even tighter as his stomach gave another pitiful grumble, and he squeezed his eyes shut.

MC sighed and reached over, pulling at one of his arms curled around him until he moved it away with a questioning glance at them. They moved their own hand in to replace his, pressing their palm to his belly. They could feel it rumbling continuously against their hand, and they began rubbing gentle circles into his middle, loosening the knots of pain as best they could. Beel almost instantly relaxed, melting against the cushions of the booth. The grumblings of his belly didn’t stop, but they didn’t seem to be as painful as before.

“Your brothers do cry, you know,” MC said. “Sometimes about their sins, sometimes about other things, just like you.” Beel looked up at them, his eyebrows raised.

“Really?” he said. MC nodded, shifting closer to massage deeper into his middle. He relaxed further, leaning his head back with a small sigh.

“They do,” they said. “Yours I think is the worst of them to be honest. It causes you physical pain, and affects you more often and worse I think than the others. But that doesn’t mean their sins don’t hurt them.”

Beel scoffed, looking away from MC and down at the empty table again.

“What could Mammon possibly be crying about?” Beel snarled. “Getting his credit card taken away?”

“Well… yeah,” MC said. “Mammon can’t control his want for things. It’s a bit like if someone took food away from you. Not quite the same since that would actually hurt you, but it still upsets him. And I mean… He doesn’t actually like how greedy he is. He knows it can hurt people, he just can’t really stop. And that makes him sad.”

“…He actually feels bad about that stuff? I always thought he didn’t care,” Beel said.

“He does,” MC said. “It’s the same with your other brothers. Lucifer is so prideful that when he messes up even a little it can send him spiralling. Levi, his envy can get so intense he feels like he’s all alone in the universe. He gets so jealous of other people that it can blind him to what he has. Satan gets so angry sometimes that he starts crying out of rage. Asmo cries because he feels so much love for people that it hurts to see them in pain. That and of course he gets angry at himself for being so vain. And I’m sure you’ve seen how upset Belphie can get when he hasn’t slept. I've seen him go to bed with tears running down his face after a whole day with no rest.”

“I have too,” Beel said solemnly. “I used to hug him when he couldn’t sleep after Lilith died. Even when I got hungry in the middle of the night, I’d hold him until he fell asleep. …Though I think sometimes he’d pretend to be asleep when he heard my stomach, that way I would go downstairs to get something. He always worried that I didn’t eat enough.”

His stomach growled pointedly right then, loud enough that Beel actually looked down at his belly in surprise before wincing in pain. Those chefs are really taking their sweet time getting his food here.

“Well he had reason to,” MC said, rubbing deep, soothing circles into the place where it seemed to hurt most. “Basically my point is that you’re not the only one who struggles with their sin. I think you struggle the most, but you’re not an idiot for crying over something that hurts.”

“Yeah, I guess so. I never knew my brothers got upset about that kinda stuff,” Beel said, and he shifted closer to them, laying his cheek on their head for a moment and careful to avoid hitting them with his horns. “Thanks for coming with me, MC. You’re the best.”

His words were simple but they made MC’s heart swell with happiness. They were so happy actually, that they may have lost focus and pressed a little too deep into Beel’s stomach. MC only realized this after he grimaced and stiffened up, a loud growl erupting from his middle, the hungry rumbles shaking their fingers before tapering off.

MC opened their mouth to apologize, but Beel was already waving it off with a miserable glance at his stomach.

“Don’t even, it’s not your fault,” he said. “I’m starving. It’s just so empty now, it feels like it’s trying to eat itself. The chefs must be really understaffed today or something, they usually have my food out by now.”

Not a second after he said that though, the rich, thick smell of a variety of foods suddenly got a lot stronger as several people made their way to MC and Beel’s booth. They were waiters, about ten in all, each carrying at least two platters piled high with food, if not more. MC could see burgers, fries, pizza, sushi, and then it seems for dessert they had platters full of Wicked Cupcakes and apple pie.

At the sight of the food MC was reminded that the whole reason they even found Beel eating dough in the kitchen was because they’d been craving a midnight snack, and their own middle shifted hungrily as they gazed at the platters. Their stomach had nothing on Beel’s though, which gave a long, desperate rumble under MC’s hand. He even put his hand over theirs, pressing it deeper into his belly in an attempt to soothe his hunger.

“Sorry for the wait,” one of the waiters said, giving a small chuckle at the look of surprise and desire on Beel’s face. “We wanted to bring it out all at once as a surprise!”

“Well you definitely surprised me,” Beel said, eyes wide as they set down the food in front of him, swallowing thickly at the scent of the burgers only a foot away. But suddenly he got a rather sad look on his face, and he squeezed his eyes closed. “I-I’m sorry, I can’t take all this, Lucifer would kill me if I bought this much food at once--”

“Beel, you misunderstand, it’s on the house!” a curly haired waiter said, giving him a quick pat on the shoulder after setting down a platter of apple pie.

“What?” Beel said, his eyes flicking open again, but staring at the waiter instead this time. “Why?”

“MC told us what happened,” the waiter answered. “And when you came in here you looked so upset, we wanted to do something special for you. You’re our oldest customer here, you were here buying food back when Hell’s Kitchen was small and struggling to stay open.”

“I remember when you found out we were on the edge of going out of business you bought all your meals here for weeks until business picked up again so we could keep everything afloat,” another waiter chimed in.

“And you’ve brought your brothers here for every birthday you’ve had since we opened,” said someone else.

“You’ve been here for us for years, Beel,” the curly haired waiter said. “We figured it was time we tried to pay you back.”

Beel stared at the waiters gathered around him for a moment, his mouth open but with no sound coming out.

“Thank you,” he said eventually. “Thank you, that… that means a lot.” He looked down, his face turning red as his voice cracked with emotion. Several waiters made noises of sympathy or an understanding chuckle, before they all suddenly gathered around the back of the booth, reaching forward to wrap their arms around Beel. MC laughed at the awkwardness of everyone pressed around them, but they could tell Beel was enjoying the affection immensely, a small smile widening on his face, a soft blush in his cheeks.

However, his belly had other plans.

A loud rumble suddenly sounded from Beel’s stomach, sounding quite empty, and desperate for the food in front of it. MC could feel his stomach shaking under their hand, and it was certain that anyone who’s arms or hands were near his belly could feel it too.

“Aww, Beel!”

“Your poor belly!”

“Jeez, you’re really empty aren’t you?”

“Poor thing!”

If it was possible Beel turned even redder, laughing a little nervously as MC patted his belly sympathetically.

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “I’m starving.”

“No shit,” said the curly haired waiter with a laugh. “We’ll leave you and MC to your food. You fill up, let us know if you need anything, alright?” Beel nodded, waving goodbye to the waiters as they returned to their jobs.

“Wow,” he whispered, staring at all the food. “I… fuck, I don’t even know where to start.” He sounded overwhelmed, but in a delighted, eager way. His belly gurgled excitedly, and he quickly reached out, grabbing the first thing his fingers touched, which happened to be a burger. He ate half of it in one bite.

“Mmmmf,” he said, letting his head fall back against the cushion as he chewed. When he swallowed MC could feel his stomach immediately start to churn and contract, breaking down the food rapidly. It seemed quite happy to finally have something to digest.

“Feel better?” they said with a small laugh as he shoved the rest of the burger in his mouth. Beel just nodded, a deep sigh escaping him after he swallowed. It was in that relaxed, blissful moment that Beel’s form changed, his horns and wings retracting, his clothes shifting from the leather of his demon form back to his soft pajamas he’d gone to bed in.

“Much better,” he said. He reached for a slice of pizza next, folding it in his fingers so the whole thing would fit in his mouth easier. He looked a bit like a chipmunk now, and MC laughed at the way his cheeks puffed out.

“How the hell do you fit all that in your mouth?” they said. Beel swallowed, with a bit of difficulty it seems, but his eyes were bright when he answered.

“Lots of practice,” he said. “Chubby Bunny was my favorite game when I was little. I always won, even with Mammon stuffing bunnies in his mouth like a maniac.”

“…Human world Chubby Bunny is very different from Devildom Chubby Bunny.”

Beel laughed, grabbing a plate of sushi and ignoring the chopsticks, instead just picking it up with his fingers and popping the roll in his mouth. Then he suddenly looked down at MC, glancing from their eyes to their hand still rubbing his stomach, and back.

“Do… you want me to stop?” they asked, a little confused.

“Huh? Oh, no, well, I mean--Weren’t you hungry?” he said, pushing another roll of sushi in his mouth. “You came to the kitchen because you were hungry, right? Here, you like apple pie, right?” Beel pushed the large platter of pie slices over to them, looking expectantly from MC to the pie and back. They smiled and thanked him, transferring a slice to their plate and starting to eat. When MC took the first bite he beamed in approval before continuing to eat his own food.

For a while there was silence, each of them too focused on their food to talk much, but after finishing their second slice of pie MC was starting to feel a bit sleepy again. They turned to Beel, wondering if he wanted to box up the rest of his food and eat it at home, but when they actually saw him, that was no longer at the forefront of their mind.

Beel had actually stopped eating, though not because he’d run out of food, in fact there were a few platters still untouched. No, Beel had stopped eating because there was a significant swell in his middle that definitely hadn’t been there before. His stomach was so full it had begun to press against his shirt, making it look a bit smaller than it was supposed to. He looked up at MC after a moment, hands over his stomach, and a sleepy little smile on his face.

“Think ‘m full now,” he said. “You weren’t lying when you said I’d be so full my shirt doesn’t fit right.” MC laughed, reaching over to press their hand into his belly again. It was still grumbling, but it was in a muffled, happy way now. They weren’t sharp noises, more soft and low, almost like the sound of a kitten purring.

“You sure sound full,” they said, massaging slow circles into his stomach. “You wanna head home? We can get boxes for the rest of your food, we can eat it for breakfast tomorrow.”

Beel nodded, but suddenly leaned over, pressing his cheek to the top of their head.

“Thanks for coming here with me. An’ for rubbing m’ tummy. That felt really nice, even when I was hungry,” he mumbled into their hair. MC laughed and patted his swollen middle.

“Well tell you what, when we get home I’ll rub your tummy all you want, how bout that?” they said. Beel made a small noise of delight and wrapped his arms around them in a tight hug.

It was the best hug they’d ever gotten in their life.

#hunger #hunger kink #stuffing #belly kink #belly rubs #starving to stuffed #obey me beelzebub #obey me mc #obey me shall we date #beelzebub x mc #Y's writing

[writingtoforgetreality]

Pancakes To Cure The Nightmares - The Devil´s Daughter Chapter Four (Lucifer Morningstar x Daugther!Reader)

[Lucifer-Masterlist], [The Devil´s Daughter-Masterlist]

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

Summary: Your first night on Earth ended with you having this recurring nightmare again. To your luck, Dan was right by your side and calmed you down. He suggested you to come with him to work so his team could help you further.

Words: 1,914

Warnings: Lucifer Season 5 Part 1 spoilers, nightmares (flashback in italics), sassy reader (we´re getting there y´all), I know right now it seems like a Dan x Reader but I PROMISE it isn´t

If you like my work & wanna support me: a coffee would be highly appreciated ❤

Your night was peaceful. As peaceful as it had not been in forever. Though, at like 6 am, Dan was already in the kitchen, preparing the pancakes he promised you, he heard a piercing scream coming from Trixie´s room. Immediately, he left everything behind and sprinted towards you. When he opened the door, and thank God you did not lock it, he saw you writhing in the bed. Your face showed displeasure. Slowly, Dan made his way over to you, soft reassurances out of his mouth. Nightmares were nothing new to him. When Trixie was younger, she got them every now and then. The worst thing one could do was shaking the dreaming person awake. This could cause even more fear. Dan´s hands reached out towards your shaking frame, lightly touching you.

“(Y/N)? It´s me, Dan. You´re safe here. Nobody can hurt you. You´re okay.” he repeated these words like a prayer and after a short time you had stopped tossing. Your eyes shot open and you were faced with Dan right in front of you. The sight of him made you let out a small scream. Not because he was scary but because you kind of forgot that you were at his house.

“It´s alright, (Y/N). Nobody´s here but me.” his smile managed to calm you down. Your breathing was still irregular and your heart was hammering against your chest. Ashamed of what just happened, you averted your gaze from him. For a few minutes neither of you said anything. The only thing you could feel was a strong, warm hand rubbing soothing circles on your back.

“Sorry.” was all you could bring yourself to say.

“What are you sorry for?”

“Everything. For invading your house and now for screaming like a crazy ang-um person.”

“Last time I checked, I was the one who invited you in. As I said, it´s fine.” Dan´s statement made you grin. He was too pure for this world. God would take a liking in him for sure.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” he tried.

“About what?” your clueless expression made the man next to you chuckle.

“Your nightmare?” he said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. To you, though, it sounded as if he wanted to get more information out of you. In your defense, you were not the best when it came to reading people. It was not like you ever really cared about that. Not until now at least.

“Oh...just a weird dream. One that keeps recurring every other night. Nothing to worry about.” your smile at the end made Dan drop the topic.

“Okay, um. I´m preparing the pancakes I told you about yesterday. Meet me at the kitchen when you´re ready, yeah?” he stood up and walked his way over to the door but not without looking back at you. A small smile was written over your face, one that he copied. Then, he was gone again.

~nightmare flashback~

Your chambers were rather quiet today. Everyone had canceled on game night. Apparently they were all doing heavenly duty. Whatever that meant. Another day all alone. What would you be doing today? Overthinking? Daydreaming? Something like that. Your thoughts were interrupted by a loud knock on your door. This knocking technique did not sound familiar to you. When you did not have much to do you started noticing the small details. Like how Michael always knocked four times. How between the third and fourth knock was a longer pause. How Gabriel kind of knocked the words “Gabriel is here” on your door. Or how Raphael used his palm instead of his knuckles. Or how God did not feel the need to knock at all. So who was at your door right now? Another angel, maybe? Highly unlikely, though. Before you had time to process, your door was swung open. All you could muster was a blinding warm light that made your eyes squint. After a few moments, when you adjusted to the brightness, you could see a red-ish figure standing in the middle of your chambers. It had broad shoulders that did not match the rest of its body. itshead, in comparison, was way too small. But wait a second. Its head. Were these horns? You had to take a closer look to assure yourself that you were not hallucinating. Its face was deformed, almost like it had been burned one too many times.

“Daughter.” a deep, manly voice echoed trough the walls. No. No, that was not possible. It could not be. Michael had told you about the Devil´s appearance and it came pretty close to what was standing in front of you right now. Besides, Lucifer was in hell. He was hell´s ruler and if he was here now then it meant that hell was without supervision.

“You really think you can hide from your true self, (Y/N)? You are my offspring. A little Devil. More sooner than later you´ll be just like me.” his arms raised in a convincing way, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

“I AM NOTHING LIKE YOU.” your throat was burning by how loud you screamed.

“Your wings are meant to do great work. You and I, we would be a great team. Torture is in your nature, like it is in mine. Give in, (Y/N). We both know that you want it.” Satan came closer to you, grabbing you by your shoulders and pulling you towards your door. No matter how loud you screamed, how hard you fought, no one heard you and you felt hopeless. No, this was not you. You were not like your father. You did not have any torturous desires. You were an angel, not a torturer. Right before the Devil could push you through the door you had never been through, your eyes shot open. Breathless and shocked of the images that previously danced in your mind.

~nightmare flashback end~

In the bathroom, you tried to wash away the dark images by splashing cold water in your face. That seemed to work quite well. You were definitely feeling way better than yesterday. A look in the mirror reassured your thoughts. Today, you were more like yourself. Hopefully, you would not scare Dan away by your sudden change in behavior. He would most likely understand it, though. When you exited the bathroom you were met with a smell of what you assumed to be pancakes. This would be your first time trying actual breakfast. Sure, you had breakfast in heaven but it was not actual breakfast. You were beyond excited to say the last.

At the end of the hallway you came to a stop and watched Dan in the kitchen. How he flipped the pancakes in the pan like he had never done anything else. The sight of him made you smile widely. Before he could catch you staring at him, you made your way over to the kitchen as well.

“Are you sure you´re a Cop and not a professional chef or something?” this question made him look at you with confusion at first. Looked like you did need that sleep after all. Dan could tell you were way more comfortable today.

“Chef in the morning, Cop the rest of the day.” he matched your tone. “I already put some on your plate. Maple syrup is on the table. I didn´t know how much you wanted on your pancakes.” he pointed to the dining area. You sat down where a full plate was positioned. Unsure of how much syrup would be appropriate you waited for Dan to finish the last pancakes. As he sat down opposite from you with his plate, you noticed his wide eyes, how proud he was of these pancakes. He was cute, really. How he got excited over the small things in his life. Dan was the first to grab the maple syrup and poured a good amount of it all over his plate. After that he handed the bottle to you and you poured just as much all over yours. The first bite tasted heavenly. Did you really use that word? During breakfast, neither of you talked much. You simply thanked him for his efforts.

“Do you want a cup, too?” he asked as he poured himself a big cup of freshly brewed coffee.

“Yes, thank you.” the confidence in your voice hid the fact that you had never even tried it before. There was a first time for everything, right? The first gulp was kind of disgusting but the more you drank the more you liked it. After you guys finished everything, you helped him bring the dishes to the sink.

“I´ll do them later when I get home.” he motioned for you to follow him.

“So, (Y/N). I thought about something. How about you accompany me to work today? We have a great team that could help you out. How does that sound?” the man was in his bedroom, searching through his dresser to find something suitable for work.

“Sounds good. Not to be rude or anything but...do you have any other clothes? There´s nothing wrong with them, they just look rather scruffy.” you stated without a second thought. Suddenly you heard laughter erupt the room Dan was currently in.

“There she is.” he chuckled while exiting his bedroom with dark jeans and a grey tight fitting shirt that hugged his muscular body.

“Didn´t even notice your muscles last night. Working out a lot, I see.” by now your confidence had fully returned. A blush started to slowly rise up his cheeks.

“Aren´t you a bit young to flirt with an old guy like me?” his left arm came up the scratch the back of his neck.

“I´m not flirting, I just like intimidating others. So...about the clothes?” you quirked your eyebrows as you remembered him yet again of your unsuitable outfit.

“Right. Give me a second. I think there should be some of Chloe´s clothes around here somewhere.” Dan ran over to one of the dressers in the living room, opening various drawers to search for anything that you could wear.

“Chloe?” you questioned.

“Trixie´s mom. There you go, that should work for now.” Dan handed you a pair of dark blue skinny jeans and a white basic shirt. Grabbing everything you walked over to the bathroom to change into the borrowed clothes. They fit you surprisingly well. Taking another look in the mirror you started gaining faith again. Faith in the future. Faith in Earth. You were finally home.

“(Y/N)? We should head out or I´ll be late for my shift.” Dan´s voice could be heard from the entrance hall where he was currently busy with tying his shoes.

“I´m coming!” you answered while jogging towards him. After you put your shoes on you opened the door and were met with a warm breeze. Hard to imagine that yesterday, you were freezing and today you were perfectly fine with a shirt only.

“Ready?” Dan asked you from the driver´s side after you put your seat belt on.

“I was born ready.” the smirk that followed afterwards made him let out a low laugh. He was glad that you felt better already. Yes, you were a sassy one, one that kind of reminded him of Lucifer, but the only difference was that he genuinely liked you. And he definitely liked this version of you better than the one he was met with yesterday.

~to be continued~

Next Chapter 

Published (09/14/2020) by Cathy

Tags: @fandomqueen2003, @natashaashleymarvelromanoff, @severewobblerlightdragon, @tenderlyunlikelyexpert, @zoseph, @comicbucky-s, @dad-ee-drea​, @xbarrjallenx, @marvelofwitch, @aceofspace95, @julessbrown, @thevelvetseries (let me know if you want to be tagged <3)

#lucifer #Lucifer Morningstar #lucifer s5 #lucifer season 5 #lucifer x you #lucifer on netflix #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar x daughter!reader #daughter reader #daughter!reader #reader insert #imagine #series #original series #fanfiction #fanfic #tom ellis #lucifer x reader #dan espinoza #kevin alejandro #The Devil´s Daughter #The Devil´s Daughter Chapter 4 #lucifer series #lucifer spoilers #lucifer season 5 spoilers

[lucifers-favorite-pen]

A Simple Request (Lucifer x Blair)

Fandom: Obey Me!

Pairing: Lucifer x Blair Warwick (my MC)

Genre: Fluff. Lots of fluff. A little NSFW

Warnings: none

Word Count: ~3k

--

Hey guys! This is my second go at writing for Obey Me! I decided to write this based off an ask about Lucifer proposing received on Blair’s rp blog @miss-blair-warwick. I almost wrote this as a reader-insert fic, but idk I just really needed content of my girl and her mans tonight lmao. I do take requests for reader-insert stuff though, if you’re ever interested. Ok that’s it, enjoy!

--

Saturdays were the one day a week Blair was guaranteed to have time with Lucifer. They both were very busy people. Lucifer was occupied with his work, and Blair with her studies, so they didn’t see a lot of each other during the week. Only the soft moments between the pair when they woke up in each other’s arms each morning, and the steamy nights when Blair would fight off the fatigue of the day to wait up for Lucifer to come to bed. As well as the daily event of Blair bringing Lucifer a cup of tea late at night, and attempt, usually in vain, to get him to come to bed early with her. 

Saturdays, however, were his day off. Every Saturday, Blair was promised a date night of some sort, multiple opportunities to...make up for lost time, and a morning to sleep in with him on Sunday. 

Saturdays also meant: bath time 

Both of them thoroughly enjoyed bath time.There usually wasn’t any “funny business” during bath time. The amount of splashing and sloshing that would occur would make a huge mess and neither of them wanted to deal with that. No, there was only soaking in his huge bathtub, and relaxing away the stress of the week prior. Lucifer would put a record on in their bedroom that could be heard softly from his bathroom, and the two would relax in complete silent bliss. Her back always rested on his chest, as she felt and listened to the steady rise and fall of his breathing that never failed to relax her. 

Tonight he was different though. He still carried a little bit of tension in his shoulders, and the little furrow in his brow would appear when he was lost in thought and didn’t think she was looking. They had both finished washing themselves, and Blair made it a point to try and massage the rest of the tension out of his shoulders while rinsing the suds off of his muscular frame. 

It wouldn’t go away. 

Weird, she thought as she settled her self to her usual spot between his legs, on his chest. Blair closed her eyes and applied two little jelly eye masks under her eyes that Asmodeus gave to her. This was his way of telling her the bags under her eyes were getting out of hand without hurting her feelings. She took a deep breath, and tried to focus on the sudden cold, slimy feeling under her eyes instead of what was bothering Lucifer. 

She really tried her best, but how could she focus on anything except for his incessant light tapping on the side of the tub where his arms were draped, and his weird, uneven breathing pattern? Blair sighed, peeled the eye masks off her face, and flicked them to the ground on either side of the tub, resting her arms right in front of Lucifer’s. The masks never worked anyway.  

“Are you doing ok?”, she finally asked him, snuggling a little deeper into his chest and the water. 

“Hm?”, he responded going to rest his arms on top of hers. He wrapped his hands around the backs of hers, and intertwined their fingers. Lucifer placed a light kiss on her temple and almost whispered in her ear, “I have all I could ever want within my reach,” 

He lightly nibbled her ear.

“A healthy family. Annoying as all hell, but healthy none the less,”

She chucked at him as he placed a kiss on the side of her neck. 

“The most perfect being in all the three realms owns my heart and is sitting in my bathtub,” 

She felt the heat rise to her cheeks as he placed another kiss on her shoulder, and felt his fingers untangle from hers to start tracing light lines up her arms. 

“And Chopin is in the other room, quietly scoring this perfect moment,” 

Lucifer traced his way up her arms and rested his hands on her shoulders, lightly massaging out any tension gathered. 

“I am doing, fantastic, my dear,” he purred in her ear. 

Blair knew he was being overly affectionate to cover the fact he was lying through his teeth, but as his hands worked themselves over her shoulders and neck, and as his soft, perfect lips landed on her cheeks and her neck, she found herself forgetting. He had a way of melting away any sort of worry or turmoil that nestled its way into her body, simply by touching her. 

She hummed and leaned back into him, tilting her head back and up to look up at him. He had a content smile set on his face, but there was something else hidden in his eyes. Worry? No, nerves. 

What was he nervous about?

Blair smiled sweetly up at him, “Ok, I believe you,” 

He returned her smile, and cupped her small face in his hands. “Mm, good,” he said before kissing her forehead. 

“Now, let’s get out before we get pruny, yes? I’ll meet you in our room in a couple minutes after I clean up in here,” said Lucifer before lifting himself to his feet and stepping out of the tub. Blair stayed there, knees to her chest, cheek resting on top of her knee. She admired the way his back muscles tensed and relaxed as he toweled himself off.

“I can help you clean up in here. You we both took a bath, you shouldn’t have to clean it all up yourself,” Blair said absentmindedly as she watched the water droplets fall from his beautiful raven hair on to his shoulders and down his back. 

He secured the towel around his waist, turned and sauntered over towards her. He looked almost menacing, towering over her as he stood on the small rug outside the bathtub, looking down at her with amusement. 

Like a cat playing with his food. 

He knelt down, and reached over to softly run a knuckle over her cheek before taking her jaw between his fingers and forcefully pulling her face, and as a result the rest of her body, toward him. She let out a surprised squeak as she fell forward on to her hands with a splash , and her breathe caught in her throat when she noticed her lips were mere centimeters away from his. He cocked an eyebrow and smirked at her. He loved the way her heart was pounding in her chest. He loved the way he could feel the breath hitched in her throat, and see the surprise laced with fear and excitement in her beautiful, baby blue eyes.

He loved her.

“Or,” Lucifer purred as he ran his thumb over her bottom lip. “You could follow directions, and wait for me in our room like a good girl,”

Blair bit her lip and raised an eyebrow at him, mischievously. She then sighed and looked up at him, “I guess i could do that,” she whispered, defeated. 

Lucifer’s smirk grew into a smile as he guided her chin towards him for a passionate kiss. His hands found their way into her inky black hair, and he deepened it just enough, for just enough time, to leave her gasping her more when he suddenly pulled back. “Good, I’m glad to here it,”

Blair didn’t know she was white-knuckling the edge of the bathtub until her fingers started cramping. She let go, and flexed her fingers, smiling to herself as Lucifer stood up to retrieve a towel for her. She took a deep breath to steady herself -mainly her heart- as she stood up and stepped out of the tub. Lucifer met her and wrapped a soft towel around her body, tipping her chin up to meet his gaze. 

“I’ll see you in ten,” 

~~~~~~~~

Blair stood wearing a silk bathrobe in front of the vanity/dresser in Lucifer’s bedroom, lost in thought. She was admiring the small, dainty necklace that rested slightly below and between her collarbones. It was a silver “B” charm, with sparkling diamonds along the straight line of the letter, hanging on a thin silver chain. A present for their first anniversary. 

Her eyes drifted to Lucifer’s pact mark that sat just to the left of the necklace, below her collarbone. She stopped playing with the charm to instead trace the lines with the tip of her finger, a small smile resting on her lips. 

She felt him lightly tug on the pact, and watched him approach her from behind in the mirror. He was wearing only a pair of green and blue plaid pajama pants, an article of clothing surprisingly mundane for the Fallen Morningstar of Heaven, but comfortable none-the-less. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her backwards into his chest. She felt shivers fall down her spine as he nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck, breathing in her scent and placing loving kisses up her neck to her ear. 

When he finished making her feel like she was walking on a cloud, he closed his eyes and hummed contently, resting his chin atop her head. His arm was still securely resting across her chest and lightly tracing circles on her upper arm. 

“You looked stunning tonight,” he said, referring to how she looked when she descended the House of Lamentation stairs to meet him for their date just hours earlier. She smiled at him in the mirror, and rubbed his arm. 

She began to spin around to look up at him, “It’s because you have great taste in dress-”

Her eyes landed on the ring held delicately between his index finger and thumb. 

She forgot how to breathe.

She probably would have fallen over had Lucifer not placed his other hand on the small of her back, securing her in place. 

The ring was the most beautiful piece of jewelry she had ever seen. A big, but not obnoxious, princess cut diamond sat on top of a shiny silver band. The setting came up and curled around it, like a throne for the gem. It was simple, and beautiful. It reminded him of her. 

“Blair, breathe,” coaxed Lucifer, snapping her back into reality. She gasped, and swallowed the air, bringing a shaking finger up to point at the ring. 

“Wha-. What-. What’s tha-. Wha-”, she stuttered. Trying to form any sort of sentence to communicate what she was feeling. Lucifer chuckled at his stuttering, trembling girlfriend and teased, “I believe that’s the wrong finger, darling,” 

Blair’s laugh was morphed with a sob as she felt tears rise in her eyes. She covered her mouth that was opening and closing like a fish gasping for air with both of her hands as she looked up at him, waiting for some sort of explanation. 

“There was something amiss earlier when you asked me during our bath. While i didn’t lie about how I felt about my life, and you,” he said pausing to touch the ring to her nose on the word ‘you’.

“And while it is true that I have everything I could ever want right here, there is something else I want. A simple request, really,” he continued. 

Blair was trying to control her joyful sobs long enough to let him speak. The small circles he was rubbing into the small of her back with his thumb were helping substantially. She nodded frantically, urging him to continue. 

Lucifer took a deep breath, and steadied himself. He would never admit it to anyone, not even her, that he was so nervous he felt like his heart was going to burst from his chest. His pride simply would not allow such an admission. Instead he looked into her eyes, the eyes that could steady any storm that wracked him. 

“Marry me,” 

It was a miracle those two words didn’t trigger the flood gates to open, successfully making Blair lose the grip she had on her emotions. Instead she gasped at the words, even though she knew they were coming, and slowly let the breath out. She swallowed the sob forming in her throat and brought her hands from her face to rest on his chest. It took her a solid twenty seconds to remember how to speak, and try to speak without letting the sob in her throat loose. 

Finally, she spoke, raspy and strained, “Well, if you insist,”

Lucifer smiled, and giggled at her response. It was all he could do not to pick her up and spin her around the room right then and there, but he was patient. There was one thing left to do. 

“Then allow me,”, he said, slowly dropping to a knee. 

That did it. That triggered the flood gates. Blair laugh-cried as she covered her mouth again with her right hand, her left taken by Lucifer. He looked down at her small hand, and ran his thumb over her soft, perfect skin. He moved his hand down a bit, so her fingers lay flat on his open hand, and he slid the ring on to her ring finger.

A perfect fit, he thought.

He kissed each of her knuckles lovingly before standing and was immediately pounced on by Blair. She flung her arms around his neck, and brought him into a tear-filled hug. He wrapped his arms tightly around her middle, and started joyfully laughing. The feeling welling up in his chest was one he hadn’t felt before. Was this true happiness? Was this what it was like to be genuinely excited? How had he been around since the beginning of time, and not felt this before? 

Whatever it was, he liked it and leaned further into the feeling. He felt his eyes start to crinkle in their corners as he relaxed into a toothy smile and picked Blair up by her waist and spun her around the room. They were both smiling and giggling like children as they spun around the room to Chopin. Blair brought her legs up and wrapped them around his torso, wanting to be as close to him as possible to him in this moment. He stopped spinning around to pry her face from his shoulder. 

He wanted to look at her. 

She was at eye level with him now, her legs wrapped around his middle. He removed a his hand from one of her thighs to wipe the tears away from her red, puffy cheeks. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, he rested his hand on the side of her face. She leaned into his touch before taking his face in both of her hands and crushing his lips to hers. Lucifer moved his hand from her face back down to her thigh, making sure to touch and document every curve this hand found through the silk of her robe. He pulled her legs more tightly around him, as he pressed her body flush against his, walking backwards to sit them on their bed. 

He wanted to feel all of her. 

She felt him hungrily tub at her bottom lip, and then move to pepper her jaw, neck and collarbone with wet, hungry kisses. A small, blissful moan escaped her lips as she entangled her fingers in his damp hair. She rested the side of her head against his, letting him completely fill her senses for the moment. He smelled like cinnamon and campfire, with a hint of rose from their bath. She kissed his temple, right before having her lips enveloped by his in another desperate, passionate kiss. 

They both pulled away at the same time, breathing heavily and letting their hands lazily roam over the other’s body. Their foreheads were pressed together in a moment mutually agreed upon silence as they realized they had promised themselves to each other. Forever. 

Blair tugged at their pact just as a smile tugged at her lips, and brushed her nose over his, pulling away to look into his eyes as she twirled the hair at the nape of his neck around her middle finger. His dark crimson eyes, met her icy blue ones, and he couldn’t help but smile back at her. It was one she hadn’t seen before. It was pure, almost childlike happiness. It was rare that she would get to admire a toothy grin from him, so she took a mental picture. 

Lucifer closed his smile back down to a small grin and ran his finger along her jaw. She was the the peak of beauty and perfection to him. Nothing was more perfect than her, and she just agreed to be his. This made the feeling that he couldn’t explain return to his chest, and he brought both his hands up to cup her face. 

“I love you more than I understand,” he admitted, his voice slightly cracking on the last syllable while his eyebrow furrowed. Blair smiled sweetly at him, her heart swelling at his words. She took both her hands and rested them on top of his, still cupping her damp cheeks. She tenderly kissed his palms, then leaned in to press a gentle kiss to his lips. “I love you too,” she whispered just over his lips. 

Lucifer felt a pressure rise in his throat and heat grow behind his eyes. 

Was he about to cry? 

Lucifer just further furrowed his brow and nodded his head quickly before wrapping his strong arms around her waist and pulling her flush to him again, encasing her lips in his while falling backwards on the bed with her on top of him.

After all, it was never too early to start practicing for their wedding night. 

#obey me fanfiction #obey me headcanons #obey me lucifer #obey me lucifer x mc #can you tell Chopin is my favorite romantic era composer #obey me swd #obey me scenarios #obey me fluff #lucifer obey me #this might be kind of bad but I love it so it's fine #the goal was to get me cryin in the club and that's what I'm doing lmao #obey me! #obey me shall we date

[alpaca-writes]

Mystics, Chapter 23

When Arch becomes hired on at Mystics by the strange shopkeeper Lyrem Nomadus, everything seems to be going well- in fact, their life nearly becomes perfection. Soon enough, however, Arch realizes that perhaps not everything is as perfect as it seems….

Read Chapters 1-22 and more HERE

Taglist: @myst-in-the-mirror, @livingforthewhump

CW: gore, blood mention, human hearts, mutilation, darkness/ voids, death mention. Enjoy!

Be an angel. Give me a heart and don’t forget to reblog. Xx. - Alpaca.

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

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: TAKING NOTES FROM UNDERGROUND

        They thought that Paimon would drag them back into their room; through the carved-up halls and up the spiral stairs that led through more winding passages and that they would eventually be left to their lonesome behind the door again. 

        … Instead, Arch was being taken toward the dining hall- with the extremely long dining table.

        “Was that who I think it was?” Arch managed. Paimon had very little to say after Arch had been caught with his prisoner. His brows were furrowed and his eyes glistened with more darkness than they had before. He was distracted by something, and it was clear that the last thing on his mind was caring about Arch’s encounter with the prisoner. It put Arch on edge at first, always wondering if they would be paying for the misdemeanor in some physical way. They would be relieved to know that no forms of torture were on Paimon’s mind.

        “Who do you think it was?” He growled, turning the question back on them.

        “Well, it’s obvious, isn’t it?” Arch started, keeping up with him. “You’re a demon- a King, if I recall correctly. I did at least some research after we first met at Mystics”- they quickly explained as an aside. “But I also know from Catholicism, all that Latin they’d spew… That was…”

        Paimon raised a brow as he led them through the halls, wondering when they’d make their connection.

        “Yes?”

        Arch straightened a bit. “That was Lucifer… the ‘light bringer’, wasn’t it?”

        “Very good, Arch.”

        The sudden praise stopped them in their tracks and together Paimon and Arch stood by the closed doors of the dining hall. Facing them, Paimon grinned broadly clapped his hands onto Arch’s shoulders- an action which earned a flinch in response.

        “One of the things that drew me to you was your unique perspective and your creativity. You draw conclusions where other people can’t. It’s quite impressive.”

        Arch scoffed lightly, shifting their eyes side to side. “It’s not that impressive.”

        “Do not doubt yourself so,” Paimon studied their bruising and bloody face. Lifting his hands, he put his thumbs on either side of Arch’s nose.

        They felt the bones crack back into place, though no pain followed from his healing touch.

        Arch relaxed from the showering kindness. It was unusual; unexpected at the very least. Healing powers in a demon seemed a bit... out of place.

        “Thank you,” they muttered.

        Paimon released them and his admiration turned solemn. He nodded toward the door, and took a heavy breath.

        “I have something for you behind this door. A gift,” he spoke calmly. The calmest, in fact, that Arch had ever heard from him. “I wish that Lyrem could have presented it to you directly, but…”

        Falling silent, and unfinished in his thoughts, Paimon opened the doors and ushered Arch through.

        Mildly confused, Arch rubbed their shoulders where Paimon’s claws had been and followed him inside.

        “You said I wouldn’t see Lyrem for a long time,” they replied. “What happened to him? Where is he?”

        The table almost looked empty since it was barren all the way until the end section. Something on it was moving, but it couldn’t move very far. Arch only saw the alternating rubber soles before realizing who the gift was.

        “Marcus?”

        There was a muffled cry heard beneath the cotton that had been stuffed into the boy’s mouth. Arch ran up alongside. Their humanity getting the better of them, they approached in concern and gulped as they took them in. He looked in a bad way. Rosacea seeped up his neck and into the base of his cheeks. The sides of his face were already slick with tears and drool, and his eyes were bloodshot and baggy. His forehead, under auburn curls, was dreadfully sweaty. He was pinned to the table with nails stabbed through his hands at each corner leaving bloody pools that stained the wood. Paimon had provided him with the merciful chains to his ankles that held him taut to the massive table and its legs.

         Paimon watched Arch carefully as they studied their captive. He didn’t want to step in. He could tell from here, that Arch was beginning to realize the expectations he had of them. He waited. He wanted Arch to initiate the next step.

        Scratching a brow, they backed away from the table, and only then noticed the bloody bowie knife sitting on the chair. That was Uncle Arty’s. Arch flicked their eyes from the knife to Marcus multiple times before checking back to Paimon and his darkening gaze.

        “I was unfortunately too late,” he said. “It seems as though someone had released this boy from his shackles in the back room of Mystics. By the time I had got there, it was a bloody mess.

        Lyrem is dead.” He said simply. The twisted truths were his favorite.

        Arch paled in their complexion and picked the blade up by its worn wooden handle.

        “Marcus… killed Lyrem? What about my uncle? This is his knife. Did you see him? Is he okay?” Arch panicked, the words and questions poured out like a waterfall.

        “Your uncle; I don’t know what happened to him. But clearly, his knife was in the wrong hands. Likely stolen,” Paimon answered.

        Arch regarded him skeptically. It was impossible to tell if he was speaking the truth, but they knew that Paimon cared about Lyrem. They also knew that Marcus would have done anything to be free from him.

        “Lyrem was… saving Marcus for me,” they managed. The idea of Lyrem being dead had hardly sunk in yet. “As a birthday present.”

        “He was quite excited about it too,” Paimon added from across the table. “He was so proud of how you had been progressing, and how strong you had become in such a short amount of time.”

        Arch sniffed and wiped their nose with the back of their hand. Remembering how much Lyrem had done for them since April, their heart sped up with the familiar rage that Marcus had commonly instilled within them.

        They raised the knife high above their head, and watched the fear rise in a tidal wave in the face of the lowly one on the table. They tried to bring it down but were interrupted. Paimon stood behind them, keeping their hands from lowering the blade deep into the boy’s chest.

        “What?”

        Paimon gently pried the knife from Arch’s hands, tempted to allow them the pleasure of sinking the blade deep into an innocent one, but thought the better of it.

        “Presentation is important, sweet thing,” he advised. “If you want to consume the heart, it’s best to carve the meat in another fashion.”

        “Like how?”

        Paimon smiled. He led their dominant hand onto the handle, and wrapped his own fingers around theirs.

        “Allow me to show you.”

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

        The emptiness was the most frightening aspect of the Labyrinth. The sheer quiet darkness. Sensory deprivation at its finest. The second time around was just as jarring of an adjustment as the first, but this time, at least Arthur tried to come prepared. There was something oddly comforting about the fact that he knew he wouldn’t be alone this time.

        “Wild, wild horses…” he sang low, flicking the gyro wheel and following its calming hum. “couldn’t drag me awaaay…”

        The rope dropped off behind him, hitting the floor without a sound the moment it had been released.

        Then, he turned on it, searching for it again because of some inkling in the back of his mind that told him the Labyrinth was not a reliable place. What was there one second, could be gone the next. He clicked on the flashlight, and his heart fell. The rope had been there for as long as he would hold onto it. But it was gone now- eaten up by the merciless void. Just as he expected.

         “I watched you s-suffer… A dull aching pain,” he wouldn’t lose hope. Persephone was still around here somewhere. Charlotte could be with her now, for all he knew. That was a comforting notion. “Now you've decided, t’show me the same…”

         He hadn’t realized that the flashlight was still on. There was still a darkness all around that had basically drowned the light out. He pulled out the baggy of confetti, and left his first little trail, knowing that he would run out of the bag long before he found anything promising. He’d probably be lost in here forever.

        “Wild horses, couldn’t drag me away…” he continued. The gyro wheel was the only useful object here. It at least kept him mildly entertained.

        He stepped onwards, repeating the songs that gave him the most calm.

        One foot in front of the other. For hours… days? Every second felt like a century. Every hour could have gone by in a single blinking of an eye. Was he making progress? Or walking in circles?

        Something clinked under his boot, something small. It dragged under his foot as he lifted it for the next step. Arthur looked down, the glinting of a crucifix and a broken gold chain stared up from the light. It was Charlotte’s.

        Knowing that filled him with relief.

        “Charlotte?!”

        There was silence.

        “Char?!”

        If her crucifix was here, then certainly she had to be.

        And more than that, it meant that not everything would be sucked into the void, like the rope and confetti were. He didn’t know why the crucifix was spared that same fate, but he didn’t particular like staring gift wild horses in the mouth.

        There was still nothing but silence.

        He sighed deeply, clutching the gold pendant in his palm and whispered himself a prayer. Hoping for a miracle, he kissed his clutched fist and continued on. He couldn’t waste too much time. Arthur continued on, determined and without losing faith that he would come across his sister at some point.

        There was an odd sound above his head. High pitched… tweeting?

        It grew louder, and mixed in with sounds of more birds and rustling leaves. It shouldn’t have been so alarming.

        “Charlotte?” He called out again.

        The ground grew softer beneath his feet, like he was sinking into it just a little. Arthur bent himself down, just to touch the ground, and found the unmistakable feeling of grass between his fingers. The scent of a blooming cherry tree filled his head, and he sneezed.

        “Hello?!”

        Nothing.

        Arthur stood up. In all the time he had been here before, he had not once, come across something like this.

        “This stupid… fuckin’ place,” he muttered. “What did I do to deserve this, huh? I never hurt anybody…”

        There was a whining creak ahead of him, and then the sound of a door shutting after it had been opened. Like a screen door. A swift breeze brushed through his hair.

        “Persephone?” Arthur asked.

        “Sh!”

        Arthur backed away as he heard steps coming up to him.

        “Be careful!” the voice said through the dark. “You’ll wake the baby!”

        “CHARLOTTE!”

        “Arthur, wait!”-

        The world lit up in color and light. A bright summer’s day outside a large house with concrete steps that led up to a porch.

        Charlotte was standing in the grass, her dark hair tousled but tied up in a bun. She was puffy eyed, like she hadn’t slept in an age, and oddly unperturbed by her circumstances. Arthur took her in for a moment more before he realized what she had said.

        There was a gurgling, and then a crying from the window above their heads. Charlotte sighed in exasperation.

        “I had just put her down for a nap.”

        Her long fingers massaged her temples, and then she pulled her brother in by the elbow.

        “Char? …” he started. “Why do you have a baby?”

        “I’m not really sure. Come inside, Arty!”

        He was resisting the yellow door, not wanting to follow his sister through. But she had inevitably dragged him in by the front of his collar and then let the door close behind him. She ran up the stairs.

        Arthur looked around. It was a modest, traditional house, and not one that he had ever been inside before- though the layout was familiar enough to be a house that he would’ve driven past through the suburbs.

        There was a closet to his left, by the boot room, a dining room with full place settings left untouched beyond that, and a living area/ play area to his right with one of those swinging chairs for infants and a hanging mobile there as well.

        He heard his sister upstairs, making the calming cooing noises. Mothering had always come so naturally to her… until a certain point. When Arch had turned about eleven was when everything started going downhill. He followed up the stairs. The old wood groaned with each step until he reached the landing, and turned around the ballast. Charlotte was indeed, rocking an infant to sleep in her arms and whispering a soft lullaby.

        The baby calmed down, and Charlotte carried her back to the crib, setting her gently inside and then left the room. The door clicked shut behind her, and she looked at Arthur and smiled.

        Then she broke down. Her hands lifted to her face to help the shedding of tears. Arthur wrapped her in a tight hug. They cried into each other’s shoulders at the top of the stairs for several long minutes in relief before pulling away. He sniffed, and wiped his face on the backs of his hands.

        “When Arch told me you were gone, I- I thought…” he couldn’t say the rest. Instead, he produced the gold crucifix and presented it to her. “Here, this is yours, right? I found it on the way here”-

        “I don’t want it,” she said quickly through a stuffed-up nose. She nodded for him to go downstairs. “Come on, we need to talk.”

        Arthur pocketed the crucifix and did as she said. They did need to talk. There was a lot that they needed to catch up on and they desperately needed a plan.

        --------------------------

        Arch was surprised that Marcus was still awake and still making sound.

        His sternum had been split open, and it took a bit of surgical machinery to keep it that way. So now, Arch had a clear view to his beating heart and portions of his lungs around the metal clamps.

        “He can’t die here, not really,” Paimon assured. “He gets to feel every ounce of what you’re doing. Isn’t that fun?”

        “What happens when I take his heart out?” Arch asked.

        “He continues to live, and decay.”

        “Like those things I found downstairs?”

        He nodded.

        “Now,” Paimon urged them to continue. “What is next?”

        “I should sever the arteries?” they suggested. “Does it have to be done in a certain order? I’m just going to eat it after, aren’t I?

        “Presentation is everything, remember? It’s important to do it right.”

        The next incisions removed the ventricles from the bottom, the blood pooled and spurted up, spraying Arch in the face, and getting some of it on their apron.

        Paimon leaned over their work, and pointed to the upper portion.

        “Good start. Next time, sever just here, to relieve the pressure first,” he advised.

        “I should have paid more attention in biology,” Arch commented.

        “Perhaps,” Paimon agreed as he watched them sever the remaining arteries. “Ah, wonderful, now reach in, and simply pluck it out.”

        “I wish Lyrem was here to see this,” they said. “Are you sure you can’t just serve transfer papers to Hades and have him sent here?”

        “Unfortunately, with Lyrem’s Greek heritage, it is more difficult to adopt him into this realm of the afterlife. Legally, he is bound to Hades personally in death.”

        “Oh,” Arch commented disappointedly. They reached their hand into Marcus’ chest, and pulled it out. It was heavier than the others. Though that might have simply been the illusion of guilt that weighed it down.

        Arch brushed the feeling aside as Marcus heartlessly sobbed through the cloth.

        “Well,” they sighed. Staring down at it, something was missing. It wasn’t ready yet, and presentation was everything.  They turned to Paimon.

        “Do you have a birthday candle?”

#gore #tw gore #tw blood #tw blood mention #whumper!Arch #Caretaker!Paimon #writing #writeblr #whump #whumpblr #whump writing #whump blog #writing blog #mystics by alpaca #mystics chapter 23 #whumpee!marcus #fantasy #fantasy writing #horror #twbody horror #horror writing #thriller #thriller fiction #fiction #fic writing #mystics

[dewitty1]

Heart Of Silver/Heart Of Gold

lettersbyelise @lettersbyelise

Chapters: 25/25 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Characters: Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy, Minerva McGonagall, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini, Gregory Goyle, Narcissa Black Malfoy, Andromeda Black Tonks, Ginny Weasley, Luna Lovegood, Neville Longbottom, Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan, Jeff the Niffler, Other Characters Additional Tags: Demon Draco Malfoy, Human Harry Potter, POV Draco Malfoy, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Unresolved Sexual Tension, First Time, Angst, Enthusiastic Consent, Bathroom Sex, Mutual Masturbation, First Time Blow Jobs, Non-Penetrative Sex, Intercrural Sex, (kinda), Christmas Miracles, Happy Ending, Getting Together, Advent Calendar, Complete

Summary:

Draco Malfoy, a young demon specialising in school bullying, has lived hundreds of uneventful lives. Until his world is turned upside down by his newest assignment a few days before Christmas: to get rid of 8th year classmate Harry Potter, Defeater of Dark Lords and thorn in the side of all things evil. Trouble is, Draco’s world has been upside down for a while… ever since he started having very human feelings for a certain bespectacled Gryffindor.

Excerpt:

Harry’s cheeks were pink, the blinking fairy lights randomly highlighting his hair with pink, blue, yellow and green. His grin had turned slightly embarrassed, as it always did when he was the centre of attention for too long. Draco used to think it was false modesty. Right now, he wasn’t so sure. Now that he was starting to see Harry for who he really was... it felt like a Bludger to the face, every time, realising how utterly, how deeply good Harry was.

Draco wondered how a demon like him didn’t burst into flames just by being in Harry’s vicinity.

The first players made room for new ones, Granger, Weasley, Finnigan and Blaise this time. Draco felt someone sit next to him on a free cushion, a friendly shoulder brushing his.

“Fun game,” Harry said, very close to Draco’s ear. “You should play.”

“Not sure I’d be good at Muggle games,” Draco admitted. Harry’s face tightened. Draco, realising his mistake, backpedaled quickly. “I mean... not because they’re Muggle, obviously. I have nothing against... that.” Harry watched him silently, as if taunting him to say it, so he did. “I have nothing against it anymore. You know that... Don’t you?”

“I think I do,” Harry murmured, eyes pulled back to the loud players again. “Still think you should play, you know? You’re so... serious. So grave, all the time. You should loosen up a little.”

“I am serious because I want to be serious, Potter,” Draco muttered. He didn’t know why he was telling him this. With the surrounding noise, he was certain only Harry would hear him. “I’ve been a little shit for far too long. I’m making amends now. At least, i’m trying to.”

Harry nodded, still watching the game. “I believe you.” He canted his head to glance at Draco. There was a crooked little smile on his lips that Draco did not care for. “And if you don’t know how to relax, perhaps I should give you a hand.”

Draco froze, unable to look away from Harry, his little smile, the impish glint in his beautiful green eyes.

“I—” he said. He was humiliatingly interrupted by his own throat, contracting to swallow a gulp of air. Harry laughed.

“Hold that thought,” he said. He stood to his feet, fairy lights dangling from around his neck. He ran to his dormitory room.

Harry came back as a fourth round of Hungry Hungry Hippos was finishing, Longbottom as the winner this time. He shyly yet proudly punched the air in victory. Pansy clapped and whistled loudly.

“Oi, Harry, what ye got in there?” Finnigan greeted Harry. Harry opened his fist to show everyone its contents: a small, flat packet and a transparent plastic pouch containing what looked like dried, crushed Gillyweed. He grinned mischievously.

The Muggleborns and half-bloods in the group burst into laughter. Thomas clapped Harry on the back while Granger crossed her arms with a disapproving huff. “What? What is it?” Weasley kept asking, still sitting on the floor, pulling at the hem of her robe. “It’s Harry pretending to be cool but really being a stupid, predictable teenager,” Granger scoffed. Her admonition had the opposite of the desired effect on her boyfriend. Weasley stood to have a better look at the pouch.

“McGonagall let you in with this?” Thomas enthused. “There really is such thing as a ‘Boy Who Lived’ privilege!”

“Shove it, Thomas, or you won’t have any,” Harry laughed. “What McGonagall doesn’t know can’t get me in trouble.” He looked around. His eyes fell on Draco who was still seating where Harry had left him, too bewildered by the scene to move. “Wanna try?”

Someone moved the board games aside. Slowly, the students arranged themselves in a loose, lounging circle on the floor. Hannah Abbott brought something that looked like a large silver box riddled with buttons, opened a round compartment on top and placed a small silver disk in it before closing it with a click. Strange music started playing—definitely Muggle—and Draco tried to pay attention when he noticed Harry nodding approvingly at Abbott. The song was upbeat yet melancholy, hopeful yet happy. The singer was asking her lover to kiss her repeatedly beneath the twilight. Pretty lyrics, Draco thought. As he looked over to Harry, he thought they were quite fitting.

The lights dimmed. Harry, still wrapped in fairy lights, shone as enticingly as a Christmas present. Wouldn’t he look just perfect, surrounded by multi coloured lights, naked in Draco’s bed—

Oh, sweet Lucifer. That was new.

Draco had never allowed his mind to go there before.

And now that it had been, he couldn’t think of anything else.

Harry naked. In his bed.

He watched Harry bend over and lick a stripe along rolled-up cigarette paper, and his mouth watered.

Around the circle, a few students looked utterly at ease, as though what they were about to do was normal and not completely foreign. A few others, like Granger, appeared to be battling to keep the disapproval from their faces. The majority, though, just followed the proceedings curiously. Harry lit the tip of the cigarette with a muttered ‘Incendio’ and took the first puff, closing his eyes briefly before passing it to Thomas on his right.

He leaned on his left to murmur to Draco, “You don’t have to try it if you don’t want to.”

“I don’t even know what it is, Potter,” Draco whispered back.

Harry suppressed a giggle. “It’s a marijuana cigarette.”

Draco had never heard the term before, but he wasn’t stupid. He could read the context. As a demon, he had a knack for sensing illegal shenanigans when he saw them. He felt a little frisson of excitement mixed with circumspection at the thought.

“Drugs?” he asked, trying to sound casual.

“Kind of.”

“What’s kind of a drug? It either is, or it isn’t.”

“You’re right,” Harry rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed. Around the circle, their classmates were passing the joint around with lazy smiles. “I just meant it’s light and recreational. It helps with... relaxing, or sleeping. Among other things.”

Harry’s face was thoughtful. No innuendo of any kind here. Draco reflected on all the reasons why Harry would need help relaxing or sleeping. So he said, “I want to try.”

Harry glanced at him. “Yeah?”

“Yes.” Draco clasped his hands in his lap, looking at them instead of at Harry.

“You never tried it before?”

“No,” admitted Draco.

“Oh. Of course. Yeah.”

“Why would you say ‘of course’?”

“No reason!” Harry lifted his hands. “It’s just that—you’re so... upper-class and all. I assumed—” He glanced at Draco and saw something in his expression that made him stop in his tracks. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s okay if you’ve never done it before, or if you don’t want to do it now.”

Draco wanted to be offended—Harry seemed to think what he’d just said was insulting although Draco couldn’t fathom why—but he chose to move away from that particular attitude. After all, in the past, it had done him no good when it came to Harry.

“Will you show me?” He asked.

In the dim shine of the fairy lights, Harry’s face lit up.

“Of course.” He took the cigarette when it came back his way. He looked Draco in the eyes. Draco stood very still, his hands trembling, his whole body buzzing with the nearness of Harry. “I’m going to make it easier for you,” Harry explained. “I’m going to take a pull, and I’m going to exhale in your mouth.”

Draco felt his eyes go wide as saucers. “Beg your pardon?”

Harry looked as though he wanted to laugh, but not at Draco’s expense. “It’s... softer that way. You will still get a high, only slower. Nicer. For your first time,” he added, and Draco blushed.

Around them, a hush had fallen, as though their classmates had noticed the joint hanging from between Harry’s thumb and forefinger, his body fully angled towards Draco’s, Draco still as a bird caught in the line of vision of a snake.

Someone hooted, “Show the posh boy how to live, Harry!” and several people giggled. Harry paid them no mind. He just smiled at Draco.

He brought the cigarette to his lips.

He took a pull, his cheeks hollowing, his eyelids drooping slightly. His green eyes shone in the fairy lights, their gaze trained on Draco, insistent, unwavering.

Draco saw him lift his hand as if in slow motion, Harry’s strong, blunt fingers making contact with his jaw, the calloused tips sliding along his cheek, into his hair, fisting lightly, bringing his face closer. Harry’s eyes crinkled at the corners, and Draco angled his head, opened his mouth, and let Harry blow a cloud of grass-scented smoke into his mouth, the hint of his soft lips and his hot breath a thousand times more heady than the drug.

Around them, Draco was aware of people cheering and wolf-whistling.

With a smile just this side of smug, his eyes never leaving Draco’s, Harry pulled away, his fingers caressing Draco’s cheek as he retreated.

Draco swallowed.

With it came the smoke, and he burst into a coughing fit.

Everybody laughed. Draco was still coughing, but he didn’t care. Less than a foot away, Harry sat prettier than the Christmas tree, his gaze soft and facetious. He smiled at Draco before taking another puff of the cigarette for himself.

What a sweet irony, Draco thought, smiling at him, mind and body loose.

He was the demon, and Harry was the tempter.

#Heart of Silver/Heart of Gold #Author:Lettersbyelise #Drarry #Drarry squad #fic rec #Drarry fanfiction #draco malfoy #harry potter #Hogwarts eighth year #Caey's bookmark fic recs #Carey's Personal Bookmarks

[banditthewriter]

Lucifer Morningstar - Jealous, Protective

Third entry to my One Year Anniversary event! 

Hope you enjoy!

*gif not mine*

Jealous *** The sound of an empty glass meeting marble made you look up. Lucifer was sitting at the bar in his apartment, his eyes locked on the wall of bottles. You moved over to him, listening to the click of your heels against the floor. "What's the matter?" You placed your clutch on the bar next to him as you leaned against it and gave him a look. "You're pouting." "I am not," he snapped back childishly. And then as if he realized what he'd done, he scoffed and leaned forward to grab the bottle of whatever he had been drinking. Before he could pick it up, you wrapped your fingers around it and pulled it out of his reach. He gave you a sour look but didn't try for it again. "I mean it Lucifer, what's wrong? You look, I don't know. Angry maybe?" You watched him turn the empty glass in a circle, his ring glinting in the low light of the apartment. When he didn't immediately answer, you reached out to lightly grab the wrist that was closest to you. "Lucifer?" He glanced over to you before he sighed and stood up, moving away from the bar completely. Just as you were about to follow him, he turned around to face you. "How was your date with the doctor? Although he is just a doctor for the spawns of humans and not an important doctor, but still something I suppose. I sure hope he was a gentleman. Unless you're not into that." You weren't new to Lucifer's spirals, but it had never been aimed at you before. The two of you had a good friendship, although you weren't sure he would use that term. He probably just considered you someone with whom he passes the time. It was why you went on the date with Brian. You knew you needed to get over your little crush on Lucifer but it had backfired. Brian had been a poor substitute. Hell, being out with Brian for twenty minutes was more to reaffirm your feelings than anything else. "It was fine," you said with a shrug, turning away from Lucifer and looking at the bar top. "He was a perfect gentleman." He had pulled your chair out and opened doors for you. He paid for dinner even after you offered to pay for yourself. And at the end of the night, when he sensed that you weren't interested, he didn't do more than tell you that he had a good time before he helped you into a cab. Perfect gentleman, but not perfect for you. "Well I suppose a second date will help you seal the deal if that's what you're worried about," he shot back before he moved around the bar and towards the bottles on the wall. "There won't be a second date," you said with a shrug. That made Lucifer turn to look at you. "Why ever not? I thought most human woman looked for a doctor as a bed partner and potential life mate?" There he went again with his strange parlance. It just added to your affection for the man in front of you. And why shouldn't you just admit that the reason you weren't going to see Brian again was because he wasn't Lucifer? What was the worst that could happen? Lucifer was Lucifer. Even if he didn't want something long term, he surely wasn't going to turn you down in a way that would embarrass you. He had more manners than that. With that in mind, you took a deep breath and met Lucifer's gaze head on. "There won't be a second date because it's not him that I'm interested in." Lucifer cocked his head to the side for a moment and you watched as he thought on your words. It gave you the opportunity to watch as the penny dropped. "Oh," he said shortly, and then longer and drawn out, "ooooooh." The grin that started to curl on his lips made you duck your gaze. You were glad that you obviously hadn't been obvious in your feelings before now. He took a few steps until he was just on the other side of the bar, still grinning. "Well isn't this a revelation," he teased as he leaned on his forearms on the bar. A little embarrassment at being the direct focus of his attention made your skin start to heat up under his gaze. Or maybe that was just your general reaction to him. No, you were pretty sure there was more to it. This man now knew your dirty little secret, your deepest desire that you had kept hidden from him all this time. Somehow. "Well well well," he said as he leaned a little further into your space, the grin softening into something gentle and sweet, "I think I can help you with that." Your heart skipped a beat as you met his look with a smile.

Protective *** That was blood dripping down your arm. Definitely blood. You winced and stumbled a bit, your bloody hand smacking against the reflective surface of the elevator as you tried to settle your breathing. You'd made a bad decision in going after the smugglers on your own and now you were going to have to deal with Lucifer and Chloe lecturing you. Well, Chloe would lecture you. Lucifer would probably just scold you for being stupid enough to get hurt. They had both told you that it was too dangerous for you. You hadn't become a private investigator to sit on the sidelines. Granted you probably shouldn't have gone up against armed smugglers. That was a bad idea. The elevator doors slid opened and you stumbled into the apartment. It looked blissfully empty. Chloe was probably at the police station or chasing down a lead. Lucifer was either with her or off doing something equally as stupid as you had done. You slumped on the couch, unable to make it even to the bathroom to try to clean yourself up. Blood drops followed you from the elevator which looked a little like a crime scene. You needed to clean it all up before either of them got there, but as you leaned back on the couch, you slowly found yourself drifting off to sleep. Your pain-filled dreams were interrupted by a sharp wave of pain as your body was rocked back and forth, your name being chanted like a prayer over you. You blinked up in confusion and pain, mouth unable to form words as you stared at a distraught Lucifer. "I thought," he said, bowing his head to yours for a moment, "I thought you were dead. There was so much blood. What happened? Who did this to you?" It took a few tries before you could explain what happened. Each word made Lucifer's face go from fear and worry to anger and even more anger. He helped you get cleaned up, his hands calm and gentle on your skin as he washed you clean of blood. He was less skilled in patching you up, but once you were both sure that you were in no more danger of bleeding out, he carried you to his bed. "You'll stay here. I have some smugglers to deal with," he said as his eyes seemed to flash. Surely it was just the lighting in his bedroom. "This punishment is mine and mine alone. The LAPD will just have to wait." Before you could ask what he meant by that, Lucifer dropped a kiss to your forehead and he left you in a storm. You searched for your phone and called Chloe, stumbling over an explanation of what happened to you and what Lucifer had said. Later, between you worrying and sleeping, you felt someone kneel in the bed next to you. When you struck out in terror, a hand wrapped around your wrist and a soothing voice filled your ears. "It's me love," Lucifer said as he lowered himself to the bed next to you, "you're safe here." You blinked away the sleep and looked him over. There was blood splatter on his shirt, concentrated around his cuffs as well. You ran your fingers over them and looked up at him. "What did you do Lucifer?" He settled in next to you, pulling you into his chest. "I did what I had to. Those smugglers would have come after you again just for what you had seen. I had to keep you safe. Not even the detective could fault me for that and in the end, she helped me make sure they will never bother you again." He explained that the smugglers had pulled guns on her and the other officers and they had no other choice but to shoot to kill. It had been easy for Lucifer to explain that the smuggler he had been beating had threatened his life and yours since Chloe had heard it from you as well. "You shouldn't have done that," you scolded even as you snuggled in closer to his chest. "You could have gotten in a lot of trouble." "Oh, it would have been worth it but you don't need to worry about me. I've performed my duty quite happily tonight." You smiled as you rested your head over his heart. "Your duty of punishment?" He pressed a kiss to your head as he held you close to him. "I failed my duty of protecting you from harm, so yes, I served out due punishment. My only regret is that I won't be in Hell to greet the perpetrators once more." You snuggled close to Lucifer, pressing a kiss to the hollow of his throat and sighing as you closed your eyes once more. "Thank you Lucifer," you whispered as you drifted off to sleep again.

#lucifer morningstar #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar imagine #lucifer morningstar drabble #my writing #one year of bandit #one year event

[alitheamateur]

Hey, Jealousy

Warnings: Language. NSFW. Sexual content.

Characters: Liv Elliott/Colton Ritter 

On my mother’s life, Livvy. If that son of a bitch looks at you that way again, I will get arrested.”

My closest friend, and the boutique salesclerk assured me the dress suited my body perfectly, and definitely didn’t cross any inappropriate lines when I stepped out of the dressing room earlier. But somehow, my zealous, inexplicably jealous boyfriend wasn’t on the same page. Or even reading the same book. Colton wasn’t even in the same bookstore, in the same zip code. And he made no bones about it.

He loved the dress when he saw me cascading down the steps of our hallway out of the bedroom just a brief hour ago. He loved it until he realized that every other specimen with eyes in the entire city would love it, too. It was silk number, short sleeves, with a robe-like tie around the waste. Stone gray softness settled high on my thigh, and a slit danced up a tease higher. The wrap of the dress was loose fitting, but it’s v-cut neckline, and dose of my toned legs was racier than my usual taste. But, the restaurant I had chosen was just newly opened to the public, and it’s hype was already spreading on my floor at the office among colleagues. My new love for the gym had done my body good, and I was rightfully proud of myself. Night life wasn’t typically how Colton and I spent time together, but it never hurt now and again. We were two young adults, in love, sharing life in the romping metropolis of Pittsburgh. Occasionally, I would convince my big bear to slap on that devilish leather jacket, run a comb through his hair, and hang me on his arm for a night out.

Green envy had settled in his color-changing eyes the moment the valet drank in a choking gulp of my summer-tanned legs as I stepped from the passenger side of the car after Colton handed him the keys to the SUV. The needle heel of my strappy, metallic stilettos femininely accentuated my petite feet, and created a lengthening illusion for my usually short legs. Needless to say, the parking man did not receive a tip from Mr. Ritter. Instead, a very, very firm squeeze of the fingers when he reached for the key fob. The poor kid appeared barely 20-years old, and a generous estimate of a buck thirty soaking wet. He learned a valuable lesson to keep curious stares to himself. Especially when the lady was accompanied by a brutal, quite physically capable cage-fighter.

“Calm down, Colton. I’m sure you’re just imagining things. Let’s just order, and enjoy the night, okay? Order yourself a beer and relax, love.” I fiddled with my menu, scanning for options I thought would arrive quickly from the kitchen so we could retreat back to the house before Colt wound up in hand cuffs.

He stood, his gait swelling with testosterone, to take a deep breath and escape for a bathroom break, kissing my forehead as he scooted past my chair. His return could not have been more ill-timed as the waiter so happen to be lingering at the table to pour my glass of woodsy, red wine. I could nearly feel Colton’s rageful approach before hearing his purposeful, strong stomps echoing over the marble tiled floors. His hand landed like a sack of bricks on the man whose name tag read “Charlie.”

“Charlie, is it?” Colton rattled the man’s shoulder. “Pour the glass, and fuck off to where ever it is you should be that’s not here fuckin’ panting over my girlfriend. I think it’d be in your best interest, ya’ sick little shithead.”

“Colton Ritter! Sit. NOW.” I barked through pearly, grinding teeth.

Not a word had been spoken out of line by the poor sap, nor anything resembling a cross or distasteful look. And I wouldn’t sit helplessly by and let Colton behave as cruelly as such. The little meathead just didn’t have it in him to let me feel as if anyone had disrespected me with even so much as a flattering glance. My heart loved him for it. He truly meant well after all. But, the Pittsburgh blood just ran too deep, and he hadn’t quite mastered expressing his feelings in healthier manners.

Colt did as told, his face dripping with a sullen rash of redness. The gulp of a dark ale I had ordered him seemed to sizzle down his throat when he swallowed it. I knew his insides were rancidly burning up with the incurable fires of jealousy, even though there was no one else in the entire number of humanity that I wanted to be with besides him. Surely, his fear of inferiority hadn’t been rooted so deeply that no amount of love and faithfulness I showed him could squander it? It all circled back to our time apart, and the unforgiving way he had punished me by the break-up. He hadn’t overcome the harsh truth that I could have easily wound up in the arms of another, never to return again.

“All this over a damn dress, Colton? My God, babe. What excuse do you have for acting like that?”

Would these be the little pep-talks I’d have to give when our fictional children knocked someone down on the school bus, or repeated his father’s favorite curse word to a teacher?

“It’s doesn’t have anything to do with you, or the dress. I love the fuckin’ thing, as a matter of fact. I’ve been fuckin’ hard for you over half of the night already because of it. The problem is, so has everybody else around here.”

Colton seemed to be pushing his insatiable craving for my flesh, and the tightly covered roundness of my behind, on the Saturday evening patrons of downtown Pittsburgh. Colton loved to be in control, he loved to feel in control at all times. But with me, things were different. I knew, and he knew. One hating it more than the other. His relationship with me wasn’t like anything he’d ever experienced in life, and far from his exchanges in the cage where he usually also called the every shot. My typically in control fellow was reeling with teenage, lustful rage this evening and he couldn’t stand to feel so consumed and obsessed.

I took a dainty pull of the long-stemmed, crystal glass, licking a dribble of the rim after a pulled my glossed lips away from it. I know it may be infantile and improper to egotistically play off your advantages, but Colton was in for it.

“Is that so, huh?”

He gulped, and his knuckles turned white around his mug.

Behind the table, I loosened the pulled-tight bow of the silky wrap around my waist, causing the fabric to slip lower down my chest. More of my lotion-soft skin escaped between the valley of my breasts, and I pushed my heavy seat backwards to stand.  

“I’m heading for the ladies’ room. I suggest you follow in case some of these terribly disrespectful men get a case of the wandering eyes.”

The pair of us were pros in the arena of public indecency by now. Weddings, the gym, my office at the Pilot. Even once, an afternoon delight in the shuttle of the Duquesne Incline two weeks ago. That had been a long overdue fantasy that lived up to every single standard.

I had barely excused myself from the table before I heard Colton’s wooden chair scoot frantically across the hard floors of the dining area. I was being chased, and stalked by your handsome bedmate, and the pool between your panty-less sex. I knew the wind catching my scent and trailing behind me would lead Colton onto the front lines of battle if I so pleased.

The restroom was built with multiple stalls, but we would find good use for the antique couch placed in the corner. The door closed silently behind me as I peeped below the black doors hiding each toilet. Empty. During primetime hours of the city’s’ current hotspot. It seemed to be fate.

Tapping my heels back to the door, I peaked into the dark hallway to give Colton the signal for ‘all-clear.’ He was posted with his arms flexing across his chest, and pretending to scroll over the locked-screen of his smart phone. He grinned like Lucifer himself as I bid him inside. Only the view of my eyes, and an outstretched leg wrapped highly around the wooden door could been seen. But that was all it took to furthermore entice his excited crotch. He checked both ways for any observing eyes, and I welcomed him into the spontaneous den of thrills.

Immediately he scooted the four-legs of the bright cushioned couch to barricade the unlocked door, and tossed me on it like a blonde ragdoll. I pulled open the easy confines of my clothes, and draped my leg over his shoulder to gift an opened view of my obviously naked body. With the ticks of his watch passing with haste, Colton wasted no time with the buckle of his belt, using his time wisely and needlessly prepping my already dripping entrance with his hissing mouth.

My panting bounced off the reverberating walls, dancing throughout the air with his own impatient moans of sexual enchantment. Colton captured my healthy thighs in his hands, yanking with command, teetering my bare form on the edge of the seat. His pants hanging low on his hips so his eager friend could escape, I chewed on the inside of my cheek panicked with anticipation. The risk, intermingled with the pleasureful intrusion I knew was coming next nearly caused my asthma to turn loose.

He squatted his knees to even up with my ready entrance, heaving himself instantly deep with no time, or patience to spare. He held my calves around his waist massaging deep into the tissue of my flexing legs, grunting as our bodies rocked into one another.

“This fuckin’ body of yours is for my eyes only, Livvy baby. I won’t have any other desperate prick staring at those round tits. Or that glorious little ass. Damn it, baby.”

His flashes of jealous exchanges earlier in the evening only fed and nurtured his hearty pushes inside me, and I squirmed with arousal. The way his hair had fallen into strands on his sweat beaded forehead, and the veins pulsing down the line of his neck quaked my body with shivering release. With ankles latched around his back, I closed my eyes and prepared to stifle my orgasmic outcry as he fiddled with the bead of my sex. Colton’s back was lurched forward, as if he was trying to reach depths inside of me he’d never touched before his release gave way.

Suddenly, a rattle on the other side of the door caught my very distracted attention when someone pushed to try and enter the very occupied bathroom. I was tingling with eruption, and I wasn’t about to let anyone come between me my daily hello with sexual satisfaction.

“Fuck off!” I sharply dismissed the intrusion.

Colton smiled with pride, knowing he had caused this uncurable addiction in me, and because he had tarnished my usually polite manner of speaking.

Babbling words barely translating to my English language, I felt myself spill hot release onto Colton, and down the numbness of my thighs with him smiling above me as he did the same.  

We dressed, and collected ourselves best we could before setting the restroom back to its proper state. Colton’s shirt was sweat stained, and my make-up running down my flushed face.

“Hey, babe?”

“Yes, baby?” He offered up as he helped tie the closure of my newest dress.

“Can we stop back by the boutique after dinner? They had this same dress in red, and it was to die for.”

I could see him already calculating what crowded room he would parade me around in to stir up his most envious spirit.

TAGS: @torialeysha @eap1935 @mollybegger-blog @littleluna98 

#Tom Hardy #tomhardy #tomhardyfanfic #tomhardyfanfiction #tom hardy fanfiction #elizabeth olsen #thegrind

[mymusehatesme]

Castle of Glass

Chapter One: War

Words: 2140

Summary: A Hell Gate has opened on Earth, so you and your siblings decide to defend humanity, inadvertently locking yourselves out of Heaven.  Now you must wander the Earth doing good deeds until your penance has been served.  Unfortunately, your attempt goes a little awry and you find yourself a prisoner of the man they call the Hollow King….  [Female reader, angel reader.]

Warnings: None

Inspiration was this post: https://beka-tiddalik.tumblr.com/post/160726927715/a-tradition

MASTERLIST                      SERIES MASTERLIST

Your brothers were not royalty or rulers, but they were warriors. When the demons rose up from the Underground and threatened humanity, they all shaved their heads and sent it to the Demon King. You did the same and your sisters did, too.

(Now, this is not to say that all demons are bad, or that demons did not walk the Earth before the war. This is to say that when the Underground emptied, the demons turned the world into chaos, burning the land with every step they took.)

You all fought the demons for humanity, pushed the majority back to the Underground. And when the battle was won, the humans all feared you. They would not thank you, they cowered before you.

Some humans stole your blades and started killing your brothers and sisters.

So the angels learned to hide themselves amongst humanity – and you all did it well. You never used your grace unless it was life or death; and even then, you weighed the consequences.

(You might ask why the angels did not return Skyward. It was because if a single angel did anything without orders on the Earth, it upset the balance in their hearts and they would have to do penance before they were allowed back home.)

Over the years, some of your siblings married humans; some married into royalty, some wed commoners, and some of them decided to have fun while on Earth.

You traveled the world and helped those you could. You had no alliances, no ill will towards anyone – but when you came across this kingdom, the Kingdom of Embers, you had to help.

The barren land had been burned decades ago, but had never recovered because there had been no rain there. Black and gray ash covered the land and the towns you came across were practically empty. A riverbed that ran around the entirety of the kingdom was dry and cracked – no longer did it flow with deep, cool water.

So you sat down and made a spell with your Grace. You pulled the white-blue light out of your chest in the middle of a town, not caring what anyone thought, because there was no one around. Within an hour, the sky was dark and rumbling and the air was soaked with the heavy smell of rain. It started raining an hour later.

The soldiers came for you not long after that. They took you to the palace in chains that kept you bound through magical means. A flame and a ring of Holy Fire in the cells trapped you.

You looked up at the Hollow King, Sam Winchester. The circle of fire you were sitting in threw dancing shadows on the walls and the light danced in his eyes. His brown hair swept to his shoulders – signifying he had not declared war in many, many years.

You wondered what war he had declared. What the knife that he cut his hair with looked like.

There was a blade inside your boot that the soldiers had not found and its shape pressing against your skin comforted you.

His face had been like stone throughout your story and now you understood why they called him the Hollow King. You did, however, find it strangely ironic that his presence took up the room.

He nodded. “I see. So, your spell,” he motioned toward the window and the pouring rain outside, “How long is it supposed to last?”

You looked outside and tsked.  "It will rain for three days," you replied, "Then it will stop for three days, and continue in that pattern.  This cycle will repeat ten times."  

"Sixty days," he mused, "Two months."  He nodded and slowly walked around the room.  "You know, in all the years that my kingdom has been in this state-" he gestured grandly out the window, "no one, ever, has offered assistance.  Even when my people left in droves because of the barren land, we received nothing from our allies." He dropped his arms, but kept his tall, powerful stance.  "They let us starve."

You blinked, not sure what he was trying to say.  Strange that he was so cold to you when he first ordered you put in the tower and now, much later, he spoke to you as though you were a few steps away from being a guest.

“Sire,” a voice called from the stairwell. Sam turned to face the newcomer. The messenger handed him a box and a small tool to pry off the nails before leaving the room, leaving you alone with the king again.

You stared at the box and saw how he was hesitant to open it. Markings painted on the sides gave away its contents in Enochian. You fought the smile that threatened to spill over your features. “How long have I been held prisoner here, your majesty?” you asked.

He glanced at you and began to slowly walk the perimeter of your prison. “Two days,” he replied easily, prying off a nail with the tool the guard had given him.

Refusing to let the fact that you had been here two days and he was only now coming to speak to you bother you, you asked, “You’ve already received a message before this, haven’t you?”

No emotions showed on his face to betray the truth. Tink. The nail clattered to the floor and he pried up the next one.

“The messenger didn’t tell you who it was from because you already knew,” you stated.

Tink.

He had walked halfway around the circle by now. He didn’t spare you a glance; his focus was on the box.

Tink.

“You don’t even need to open it – you know what’s inside,” you goaded, practically giddy with excitement.

Tink. Plack!

The lid fell flat on the stone and the king stared at the inside of the box. It was overflowing with hair.

Long hair, short hair, brown hair, black hair, white hair, thin and straight, coarse and curly….

All for you.

There was a note at the top and he picked it up. It was a list of names and corresponding kingdoms.

     Castiel, King of the Kingdom of Mines

     Balthazar, Captain of the Pirate Band in the SouthEastern Seas

     Michael, Commander of the Legion of Soldiers in the Mountains of Triana

     Hannah, Gabriel, Gadreel, Lucifer, Raphael, Anael, Ezekiel, Samandriel, the list went on and he stopped reading.

Sam picked up a long strand of red hair that you supposed belonged to Anna. She had attached her jeweled hairpin to her strand.

You knew that meant Anna held nothing but utter contempt for whom she had cut her hair when she attached her hairpin.

“When was the last time you cut your hair?” you asked quietly.

Because you have refused to return our sister to us, we hereby declare war upon you.

“When I swore to kill a demon,” he replied distantly. “I didn’t end up killing him, but my hair had already been cut.” War had never been waged upon him nor his kingdom, but he knew the rules. You had never seen or heard of any ruler receiving so much hair before.

“What was the demon’s name and why did you swear to kill him, only to not?” There were demons who wanted nothing more than to help, but the price for a demon’s help was always the same: A soul.

Ripped apart by hellhounds and your soul dragged into the fiery afterlife that was the Underground.

Sam looked up at you, his head tilted a bit. “His name was Crowley,” he answered, noting how you stiffened ever so slightly at the Demon King’s name, “and he initially refused to bring my brother back to life.”

You blinked and a heavy feeling of dread unfurled in the pit of your stomach. Bringing someone back from the dead was not an easy or natural thing. Reapers had to be bargained with, the Underground and Skyward would have to have scoured to find the soul, and even IF the Reapers agreed, the GateKeepers had to allow the soul back out.

And that was considering if the soul had been freshly reaped and the body hadn’t decomposed too far.

That bargain would cost much more than the soul of the one who bargained. You thought about the barren land, the empty towns, and the silent soldiers.

“What did it cost you?” you asked, genuinely curious, but cautious of the answer.

“It cost my soul,” Sam stated, practically emotionless as he straightened up to his full height, “and my lands. I agreed to let the Demon King make a Hell Gate here – and when the demons poured out of the Underground, they scorched the earth and made it barren.”

You jumped to your feet as rage flowed through you. “You,” you spat, “It was you, you let them out!” The faces of your brothers and sisters that died during the battle flashed through your mind and you balled your hands into fists as you gritted your teeth.

The Hollow King tilted his chin up a bit. “You are angry,” he noted, “Why does that anger you?”

“My kin and I came down from the Sky to help your kind,” you seethed, “Because it was our duty to protect you, because the scales had been tipped, we abandoned our home and now cannot return for centuries until our penance has been completed!” Your heart pounded as you thought of all your siblings that died at the hands of humans that were too afraid to accept help and killed angels for the sheer novelty of it.

Kneeling down, you unlaced your boot and plucked the knife free. You stood up and locked eyes with the king again. Without blinking, you reached behind your head and shaved off a strand of hair at the base of your neck. You took a few hairs to tie the strand together and then threw it at his feet.

Sam looked down at your hair, a shadow of surprise on his face, and then back up at you.

Your face was grim with hate and determination. Your kin had added decades to their penance for waging war and you would not let that go unmatched.

“I, (Y/N), declare war upon you,” you defied, tilting your chin up, “for having loosed the Demon Hoard upon the Earth, for all the Humans that died at their hands, and all the Angels that died at the hands of your kind, I declare war upon you.”

He didn’t react. His face never changed to show anger or sadness or cocky assuredness. He simply watched your outburst and cold defiance.

It unnerved you. “What say you?”

“I say… that oil has a few more days until it burns out,” he said, observing the flaming ring that held you captive, “I say I do not fear the entirety of the Skyward Host’s war against me.” He looked up at you and finished, “And I say… I think I’ll send for more oil.”

You blanched. Was… was he mad? Perhaps he was suicidal?

“Do you honestly have such faith in your soldiers and abilities as King that you do not fear us?” you demanded.

Pride overtook his features as he smirked, “I do.”

“And when the Demon King comes to collect your soul?” you asked, “What will you do then? What will your abilities be to him?”

“Oh, he’s already come and gone,” Sam said easily, readjusting the box in his hands, “He’s already collected my debt, in fact, he got it right away after our deal.”

You tilted your head, trying to understand. Not only did this man singlehandedly unleash Hell upon the Earth, he defied the natural order of things by bringing a soul back from the afterlife, and he has apparently been living for years now without a soul? “You… you have no soul?” you asked, furrowing your brows.

“There is more to this than you can see,” Sam offered, picking up your hair from the floor, but not putting it in the box with the others, “and more than I am willing to tell you right now. But I’ll tell you soon enough.” He smiled at you – just a smile, not conveying any emotion or having any deeper meaning than a half-kindness – and turned to the stairs.

He made it ten paces before you cried out to him to wait.

He stopped, but did not turn.

“Was it worth it?” you asked, nearing the flames as far as you dared, “Was your brother worth the cost?”

The Hollow King silently deliberated. He turned his head over his shoulder, but not enough for him to look at you. “Yes. And I’d do it again.”

Then he faced forward again and left you with the crackling flames.

#sam x reader #dean x reader #reader insert #angel!reader #soulless!sam x reader #demon!dean x reader #spn fic #you are a sarcastic piece of sh*t #but that's why everyone loves you #fic: castle of glass #mymusehatesme

[xukunstellation]

Fantasy Fest Series: Demon of Mine || Bu Fan [Demon!AU]

Credit to @buyuefan for the gif, which sparked inspiration for this fic!

Title: Demon of Mine Pairing: Reader x Bufan Genre: Witch!AU + Demon!AU + fluff  Word Count: 2,202 words Summary: Magic can be tricky, especially when you accidentally summon a demon into your home.

A/N: My first fic in the Fantasy Fest series! At the time of me writing up this fic, demon!au is currently in the lead in the poll. Who else better to play the role of a demon that Bufan himself? Also, a disclaimer: everything is pretty much more or less fictional. I made up a few things as far as summoning demons go and I also didn’t want anyone to get any ideas, lol. Everything is under the cut because this is the longest fic i’ve ever written I think, oof. Enjoy demon!Bufan! 

Warning: mild cursing, brief mention of blood

ya’ll asked for demon!au

so i gotchu boo

you come from a family of witches 

magic has ran through your family blood line for generations, dating back to the early 1400s

contrary to popular belief, your family did not practice black magic or served the Devil

instead your family used magical skills in order to heal others, even opening an apothecary as a family business

all throughout your life, you loved learning about the functions of different types of herbs and ingredients and using that knowledge to create all types of potions and concoctions 

you also had an affinity for spell-casting and charms

every so often, your parents would go on business trips and travel across realms, bringing back new knowledge of spells and potions that you had never heard of 

sometimes they were gone for months or, rarely, a year

it did feel strange being on your own for long periods of time, but you grew accustomed to it

it also meant you were left in charge of running the apothecary, which you were all too eager for

as you flipped to a page in one of your many ancient potion-books to find the cure for nightshade rash for one of your clients, you scanned the ingredient list and saw that one of the ingredients was virtually illegible due to the fact that the ink was rubbed away over time 

“damn. how am I supposed to make this potion now?” you sighed. “guess i’ll have to ask grandma.”

after closing up the shop so that no customers wandered in, you headed to the back room. shelves lined the walls and were filled with all sorts of magical ingredients, all neatly organized according to their use. the soft sound of the fire crackling under the fireplace and the bubbling of the cauldron hanging above it filled the room. books and papers written in latin littered the tables and floor messily, the aftermath of your charms studying session from earlier

with a flick of your wrist, the books and papers levitated and swirled in the air for a moment before tidying themselves into organized stacks. another flick of your wrist, everything including the furniture moved on their own and cleared the center of the floor

“hm... what was the spell that mom used?” you said to yourself.

you had never summoned your deceased grandmother before, let alone any spirit for that matter. usually it was your mother who did the spirit contacting

looking through a spell book, you stopped at one particular spell and figured this was what you were looking for 

how to summon a loved one

according to the spell, all you had to do was draw a magic circle, provide a drop of blood and say a simple incantation. the circle will automatically summon the one you love, which you figured was your grandmother in this case

sounds easy enough

oh boy were you in for a surprise

you carefully used a piece of white chalk to carefully replicate the image  of a large summoning circle, carefully sketching intricate patterns as you go. facing the fireplace, you slowly inhaled and exhaled, a stream of wind leaving your mouth and extinguishing the flames, turning the room almost pitch black. with that said, you lit a few candles around the circle. gently running your index finger over the other, a small incision appeared. tilting your finger, you let a drop of blood fall into the circle. it was time to start the ritual.

closing your eyes, you channeled all of your energy to your core and began reciting the spell incantation. feeling the magic run through your veins, you felt the air pick up and stir around you, creating a vortex at the center of the circle. shadows danced along the walls to the sound of your chanting that grew in volume with each repetition. the once tiny golden flames were now a roaring, brilliant amethyst. 

your words came to a halt as you finished reciting the spell. the room around you also fell into a complete silence. opening your eyes, you were prepared to greet the spirit of your grandmother

except it wasn’t a spirit

hell (no pun intended) it wasn’t even your grandmother

floating in a fog of purple smoke above the summoning circle was a massive male figure around 6′3′’. his hair was a blood crimson, mirroring his glowing eyes beneath his closed lids. aside from wearing slightly loose black pants and a long trench coat, he was completely shirtless 

(you were lowkey checking out his abs ooh la la)

but what caught you the most off guard was the lilac tint of his skin, the onyx curled horns above his head, deadly talons instead of fingernails, and the powerful presence of obsidian wings that were tattered and torn at the edges and looked at least twice your size

“oh shit i just summoned a demon”

at the sound of your voice, the demon’s eyes snapped open and glared at you with what you believe was murderous intent

fuck

you were going to die tonight 

you were a healer, not a fighter rip you

just as the demon made a move to step out of circle, the spell broke. the magic that kept him afloat disappeared in a flash

causing him to plant face first onto your wooden floor

“....pfffft-”

you knew you probably shouldn’t have found the idea of a potentially dangerous demon in your home funny, but you couldn’t stopped laughing at how someone so scary looking could be so clumsy

meanwhile the demon only winced in pain as he stood back up and rubbed his face before shooting you a look of disbelief

most people would faint, pee their pants, cry, or at least scream in fear at the sight of him

but here you are laughing at him

who tf were you?

“are you done?” he deadpanned after watching you laugh at him for three minutes straight

wiping away a stray tear, you barely managed to settle down and responded, “y-yeah i think i’m good. are you?”

“peachy”

you felt the need to laugh again... until you realized that the spell you used was meant to summon:

a loved one

and it summoned this random demon 

wtf was that supposed to mean

“wait, who the hell are you?” you interrogated

“my name is bufan. i’m a formidable demon of the Underworld!” his loud, deep ass voice boomed before leaning down his height to make eye contact with you

you felt your heart flutter a bit at how close he was

“that’s uh... nice...”

“just... nice....?”

“yeah....”

awkward silence

“so who are you and why did you summon me?” bufan questioned, raising a dark eyebrow at you

“oh! i’m (y/n). i kind of summoned you by accident,” you sheepishly admitted

“how do you accidentally summon a demon?”

“how do you accidentally trip and fall while getting summoned?”

“....”

damn you got him there

“anyway,” you coughed, “all i wanted to do was summon the spirit of my dead grandmother, not a demon. i’m not even sure why the spell summoned you in the first place. not to be rude or anything but can you go back to where you came from? I'm really busy and need to talk to my grandmother so i can start this cure already”

"i can't unless you give me your first born child"

“....say what now”

you gaped at his serious poker face before slowly watching it contort into a shit-eating grin. then he broke into a boisterous laughing fit that shook the whole room with its intensity

you pouted when you realized he was pulling your leg. “this is payback for earlier, isn’t it?”

he calmed himself down to a few chuckles, “i was just trying to break the ice. it’s not every day i get summoned to a cute little witch’s home”

you nearly forgot how much of a smooth talker demons were

blood rushed to your cheeks at his words

definitely not because he called you cute

(it definitely is)

“but i’m telling the truth when i say i can’t exactly go back. that’s not how this spell works. i’m already bounded to you by blood”

you wondered what he meant by ‘not how the spell works’

“the spell book doesn’t say anything about it either,” you sighed. “i guess that means you’re stuck with me for the time being- hey! be careful with that!”

you snatched a bottle of naga venom from bufan who already was snooping around at all of the magical ingredients and things around him

“you’re awfully calm. aren't you afraid i'll take your soul or something?" he says

"bold of you to assume I have a soul"

you were joking of course and he, being a demon, could sense that you indeed did have a soul and grinned at you

“just... try and behave yourself, ok?”

“i’ll be on my best behavior”

bufan was not on his best behavior

you should have known never to trust a demon smh

having bufan around was like taking care of three year old child

he’s constantly asking you questions every time you’re trying to make potions and just genuinely trying to annoy you

“(y/n), what’s that?”

“dragon’s breath”

“and that?”

“alicorn tears”

“this empty jar says teeth. who’s teeth?”

“it’s about to be yours in a second after i punch you in the jaw if you don’t stfu”

“are all you humans so snippy?”

“oh my god”

“more like oh my lucifer amirite”

you were a unicorn’s hair away from hexing him jfc

for someone so big, he was also extremely sneaky and sly

he’s always trying to play pranks on you and using his powers to his advantage

such as using his invisibility to randomly pop in front of you or poke your sides or face when you were doing something

or hiding your phone and other necessities all over the house and sending you on an entire scavenger hunt

despite his childish tendencies, bufan was also quite reliable 

for some reason, he grew to be protective of you although he knew you could protect yourself with your own powers

whenever you traveled home alone at night, he insisted on flying you home on his broad back

which you secretly loved bc flying with bufan was always fun since he would always make it feel like a roller coaster ride by flying in loops and various speeds

there were times where bufan even acted like a mother figure which was both intriguing and terrifying

“(y/n), did you eat yet?”

“no i don’t have any time to-”

*proceeds to make eight different types of meals for you*

in addition, he always had liver medicine on hand and you have no idea how or why???

whenever you were having a bad day, he never hesitated to listen to your problems even if they didn’t apply to him as a demon

over the next few months of bufan living with you, your once quiet and uneventful home was now constantly filled with laughter, annoyed yells, and bustle. you found yourself noticeably happier

but a part of you always wondered if your happiness was only one sided

“bufan,” you called out to him one day while fiddling with your wand

he made a grunting sound from the couch that was situated a few feet from you, indicating that he heard you and was listening

“do you regret being summoned by me?” you nervously asked

no answer

feeling your heart drop when he failed to respond, you assumed the worse and laughed quietly to hide the sadness in your heart

“it’s okay if you do. i wont hold it against you,” you nodded timidly

hearing his footsteps approach you, you faintly remember hearing your wand drop onto the floor before he pulled you close to him

you’ve never felt so tiny oml

“what makes you think i regret being here?” he questioned, clearly confused as to why you were suddenly bringing this up

you shrugged, “i don’t know... i mean, you were kind of forced to. do you miss being on your own?”

“do you?”

it took you a moment to quietly reply, “i’ve gotten used to feeling alone, so if you wanted to leave, i would let you”

bufan could hear the loneliness that lingered at the edge of your words. little did you know, he already knew how much you meant to him from the very first day he met you. there was no way it was an accident. he pulled you tighter to him before kissing the top of your head

“silly little witch. who says i’m going anywhere?”

you tilted your head up at him in surprise, “you’re saying that if you had the chance to leave, you wouldn’t take it?”

“you couldn’t get rid of me even if you wanted to”

and you swear that that was the moment you knew you had fallen for a demon

maybe performing that spell wasn’t a mistake after all

perhaps the universe knew that bufan was meant to be your loved one

because there was no better feeling than always coming home to a certain demon of yours

#idol producer #idol producer imagines #idol producer scenarios #idol producer writing #oner #oner imagines #oner scenarios #oner bufan #bu fan #bu fan imagine #bu fan scenario #bufan #bufan scenario #bufan imagine #qin #bc221 #91% #91% scenarios #91% imagines #cpop #cpop imagines #cpop scenarios

[hanneswrites]

it’s been so, so long

Chapter Title: i was born beside a river that flows to a raging sea

Pairings: Sam Winchester/Gabriel (SPN); background DeanCas

Rating: T

Word Count: 1.6k

Chapter Summary: Dean and Sam camp out in a corn field. || Guess who’s back? Back again?

Read it from the Beginning

“Forgive me if I’m not too on-board with the idea of a fucking hellhound going after Cas.” Dean said for what seemed like the hundredth time.

Sam closed his eyes and hoped Dean would stop repeating the same argument. He wasn’t even saying anything, wasn’t even arguing an opposite point. He didn’t like the idea of a hellhound getting Cas’ scent either, but Bobby had assured them that Darla would be fine, she wouldn’t be too off mission. Sam rolled down the window in the impala, a clear sign that he didn’t want to hear Dean bitch about this anymore, and he could practically feel Dean glaring at him. It wasn’t like Sam wasn’t aware that this was his fault--getting involved with Gabriel in the first place, letting him goad him on with treats of coffee and sweets, letting Castiel disappear. Not doing anything to stop him. Focusing on finding Gabriel instead of finding Cas. He didn’t even know if they were together, if Cas had even found Gabriel or vice versa. He knew Dean was blaming him. As soon as he found that little black feather on Dean’s bed, he knew. Sam sighed and slung his arm out the window, trying to think of anything that wasn’t Castiel, or Gabriel or Dean. He ended on Jess - memories of soft curls tickling his back as she curled around him, kissing his shoulders, his neck, sweet and innocent. And as he drifted off to sleep, he could feel those ghost-like touches slowly tugging through his hair.

Sam’s dreams were usually filled with blood and pinprick-silver blades sinking into flesh and black-tinted eyes with rims of red outlining them. Lucifer, the teeth of his vessel rotting and falling to the ground as he approached. But recently, he’d been getting flashes of the Elysian Fields hotel, gore and ash spread out over the carpet like snow blanketing the hills of a rolling valley. Outlines of fallen deities but no trace of the deities themselves. Gabriel’s body wasn’t there, save for the ash imprints of wings. And Sam would usually sit next to them, waiting for something to happen. Waiting for Lucifer to walk through the door and lament him on how Gabriel was dead because of him, on how he’d be back in hell eventually. But Lucifer never came, no one stepped foot into the room as he stared down into charcoal, ran his fingertips along the edges of the raised, forgotten embers.

When he woke, slow and relaxed, there was a paper travel cup in his hand. It was still warm but not burning and Sam knew they needed to head to Indiana.

*****

Darla led them to a cornfield in the middle of Iowa. Nothing around for miles except the old, off-white farmhouse that accompanied the field. It was the picture of stereotypical midwestern life. The corn parted with invisible force as Darla made her way through the stalks, Crowley trailing off behind and Sam could practically feel Dean starting to get antsy as soon as they found the first black feather on the ground. A trail of them, hanging off of cornstalks and scattered on the ground like telltale breadcrumbs. They stopped right before a small clearing--probably only three feet wide and two across, which wouldn’t that unusual if there weren’t a giant pile of feathers heaped in the center - all black with the very occasional gold threaded in.

“Well?” Dean said, gesturing to Crowley.

Crowley gave a gruff chuckle and smiled, “And we wait.”

Dean tried to argue with him, tried to pry another way out of Crowley than just waiting and hoping Castiel would appear in this field in the middle of bumfuck Iowa.

There wasn’t another way. Two days came and went and Sam prayed that this would be over soon, that finding Cas would also find Gabriel and that he’d never have to step foot in the Elysian Fields hotel again.

If this has all been an elaborate game, Gabriel, I swear on my grave I’ll kill you. Sam whispered into his coffee when he was finally left alone in the impala. The barely-not-there touches were almost always on him now, sometimes in his hair, but mostly tugging at his wrist or wrapped around his the back of his neck. Trying to lead him somewhere? Maybe this was Gabriel’s way of helping them find Castiel. Hell, maybe whatever the fuck this was wasn’t even Gabriel. Maybe, just maybe, it was Lucifer trying to fuck with him again. Sam shook his head and took another sip of his coffee.

=-=-=-=

Five days, three hours, and thirty minutes. Five days. Five days of sitting in the impala, grabbing Dean food, and making increasingly awkward small talk with Crowley whenever he decided to pop in to check on them.  There had been no sign of Castiel apart from the feathers that seemed to appear from thin air over the clearing in the cornfield, and Dean was hoarding them like a madman, attempting to catch each one before it hit the dirt.

“He’s trying,” Crowley whispered from the backseat of the Impala. Sam nearly jumped out of his seat because he definitely hadn’t been there a second ago.

“Who’s trying?” Sam wiped the spilled coffee from the front of his shirt, his eyebrows knitted together in utter exasperation.

“Castiel. He’s going to be exhausted when he gets back. Don’t let your brother be too hard on him. Give him some space.” Crowley smiled at him, and regardless of his status as ‘reformed demon, kind of a good guy now’, that smile still made Sam uneasy. “Not that I care,” Crowley’s smile morphed into a smirk and he was gone a second later.  Sam let out a sigh and cupped his hands around his travel mug. It was almost time to go check on Dean, maybe pick up a sandwich for lunch. A burger from that chain Dean liked might cheer him up a little bit. Probably not, but it was at least worth a shot.

“Sam!” He heard Dean scream not a moment later, “ Sam! ”

Sam bolted into the cornfield, pushing stalks out of his way until he was able to see Dean and...a bright blue-black glow hovering a little ways off the ground, just barely above the pile of feathers. Dean turned to him, eyes wide with panic and fear and what Sam thought may be tears. As he got closer, he could feel it - a damp heaviness settled in his chest so suddenly it almost knocked the wind out of him and Sam could feel tears of his own falling down his cheeks.

“What the fuck happened?” Sam yelled at Dean, as the glow grew brighter and brighter and oh fuck too bright too bright. He grabbed Dean and turned him away from the light, screwed his eyes shut and prayed - to Castiel, to Gabriel, hell, to Balthazar, even to Crowley. Sam wasn’t sure why he was scared, but he was, and it was near overwhelming. It felt like he was suffocating as he tried to drag deep breaths into his lungs. Dean was shouting at him, trying to wiggle out of his arms, but Sam held tight.

And then, just as quick as it had come, the heaviness was gone. Sam tentatively opened his eyes. No more blinding light. A deep groan came from behind them and Dean elbowed him in the stomach, hard enough to actually knock the wind out of him.

“ Cas!” Dean’s voice was rough.

“Dean.” Cas’ voice sounded even rougher. Dean kneeled beside him and held his hand tight enough that Castiel’s skin was turning white. He looked fine - no blood, nothing seemed to be out of place other than the fact that he was laying perfectly still on the ground in the middle of a corn field in bumfuck Iowa. Dean was checking for injuries, hovering over Cas like an overprotective mom.

“Dean, I’m okay.” Cas whispered, hand cupping Dean’s cheek, pulling him down, and Sam pointed looked away. Because as much as he was glad that they were moving past the whole “no showing affection in front of other people because I have to maintain my hypermasculine ideal image” issue, Sam sure as hell didn’t want to see it.

“Where have you been?” Dean demanded.

“I have been...It is a long story. We need to go to Indiana. Now.” Cas said, but neither of them made a move to get up from the ground. Cas was still cupping Dean’s cheek, holding him close, and Sam wondered if three weeks was the longest they’d been apart since the apocalypse. Still, it wasn’t that long. Not enough to warrant, well, this amount of staring. Sam cleared his throat and Dean jumped up almost immediately, helping Cas to his feet and half-carrying him back to the Impala. They laid him out in the back seat, using Dean’s jacket as a pillow. Cas wouldn’t say it, but it was obvious that he was exhausted - dark circles under his eyes, hands trembling ever-so-slightly. Dean was worried, Sam could hear it in his voice, but Cas insisted they get to Indiana as soon as they possibly could, which meant no pit-stops to drop him off at Bobby’s.

“Get some rest, Cas.” Dean squeezed his hand once more before getting in to the driver’s seat, “Where are we going?”

“The Elysian Fields Motel.” Cas breathed, and Sam almost laughed. Of course.

Tagged: @archangelgabriellives

#samgabe #sabriel #sam winchester #spn #supernatural #supernatural fanfic #my fanfic #wip #hannes writes #2019

[winchestergirl-13]

Say You Won’t Let Go

Prompt: “I met you in the dark/You lit me up/You made me feel as though/I was enough”- Say You Won't Let Go by James Arthur

Pairing: Chuck x Reader

Word Count: 3,935

Warning: fluff, angst?, Chuck messing up, but making it better, more fluff.

A/N: I wrote this for @impalaimagining‘s Sing It Supernatural Challenge. I ended up rewriting this one from a different version that wasn’t going anywhere. I hope you like it; I kinda got carried away with this one.

There have been many things Chuck Shurley was called, but coward was not one of them. Nor would being nervous about getting married of all things, but here he was, standing at the alter, nervous for what felt like the first time in forever...

But lets back this up a bit:

(Y/N) was a young hunter who met a so called prophet of the Lord named Chuck Shurley. Turns out this “prophet” wasn't who he said he was. The two of them had started up a relationship, but when (Y/N) left to go comfort Dean after Sam had jumped into the pit, Chuck vanished. No note, no phone call to explain anything. Just up and left without a word. (Y/N) was beside herself in grief and disbelief. How could he leave her without saying anything? She slowly got over him, pushing him to the back of her mind. Sam came back without his soul, got his soul back, Castiel released the Leviathan, Dean became a demon/Knight of Hell, and now Death was...well dead and now the Darkness, God's sister, was released and running around stealing people's souls. To top it off, God was back in the game. And he was someone (Y/N) had tried to forget for years now. The one and only, Chuck Shurley.

“We should probably talk,” Chuck stated, the small smile on his face falling when he saw (Y/N). She had changed; she looked beautiful as ever, but her eyes had hardened. Dean was trying to figure out what was going on, but Chuck snapped his fingers and the four of them had found themselves in the Bunker again. Sitting down to talk, he tried to explain what had happened, but while Sam and Dean were upset that God left, they were listening to why. But (Y/N) wasn't upset about God leaving, she was upset that her boyfriend Chuck left without a word. She didn't care about anything else right now.

Chuck watched as she left the room after his explanation. His heart ached knowing that he was the reason she was this way. Sam and Dean noticed this as well.

“You might want to talk to her. Apologize or something. She was really broken up after you disappeared,” Dean offered, standing up to go after her; he didn't stick around to hear Chuck say anything on the matter.

“She doesn't want to talk to me. She won't even look at me,” Chuck sighed, resting his head in his hands, “how do I tell her that I left to protect her?”

“All you can do is try. I mean, yeah a note would have made it easier on her, but you have to try. She may not forgive you now, but she just might,” Sam replied before leaving him to think about how to tell her he was sorry.

*Meanwhile*

“How could he leave without saying anything to me?! Why would he hurt me like that?!” (Y/N) sobbed into her pillow, Dean sitting beside her on her bed.

“I don't know. Frankly I'm not too happy with him too, but maybe you could try and listen to him? I know you don't want to talk to him, but it's gonna be a little hard to avoid him if he stays. I'm not saying he is, but he might,” Dean consoled, running his fingers through her hair comfortingly. He would always say “no chick-flick moments”, but he makes exceptions from time to time.

(Y/N) knew he was right, but she didn't want to believe it. Dean gave her the comfort she needed before having to leave to make some food for dinner. The first day with Chuck back in the bunker wasn't going to be easy.

It was not an easy night. There was a tense air about the kitchen and at dinner with minimal conversation. After dinner, (Y/N) placed her plate in the sink and left the room. The footsteps that followed told her it was not Sam or Dean; their steps were a little heavier. He followed at a distance all the way to her room where he stood outside the door; she didn't close it.

“Hey. C-could we talk?” he asked softly, his hands jammed into his pockets as he leaned against the doorjamb.

“What's there to talk about?” she questioned offhandedly. (Y/N) watched as the man before her reverted back to his old ticks from when he was a “prophet”. If he ever was.

“Please? I-I just want to apologize, to explain. Please?” Chuck pleaded, trying to gauge whether she'd let him. In all honesty, (Y/N) wanted to tell him no, to leave her alone. But part of her wanted to know; wanted to know if everything they had was real. (Chuck heard her thoughts, but didn't say anything. He didn't want to upset her more.)

“Fine. It's not like I can avoid you forever. Come on in,” she sighed, motioning for him to close the door as he stepped into her room. Spinning her desk chair around, he took a seat and began explaining everything.

Chuck told (Y/N) that he was always God, that he wanted a chance to experience life like his creations so much, that he pushed who he truly was so far back he almost forgot who he was. That when he met her, it was the happiest day of his life and that she was a light in the darkness that was his life. Hurting her was not what he wanted; he just wanted to keep her safe.

“Keep me safe?! How is disappearing without even telling me keeping me safe?!” she shouted, pacing her room now.

“Because I started remembering who I was and I didn't want you to know. If you knew, if anyone knew, they could use you against me. If any demon knew that God had a girlfriend, they'd use you to hurt me. I couldn't let that happen. Yes, I should have told you something, left a note, but I couldn't. I was hoping you would forget about me. I am so sorry that I hurt you so badly. I never wanted that to happen,” Chuck placated, slowly approaching (Y/N) as she stopped pacing. They were inches apart from each other, not touching. Tears ran down her cheeks as she stared at the man she once loved. Still loved.

“I really want to hate you right now, Chuck. But part of me is happy you're back and part of me just wants to slap you for such a dick move. I'm torn between wanting to love you still and not wanting to have anything to do with you,” she stated, turning away from him slightly.

“Can you find it within yourself to forgive me, (Y/N)? Or give me a chance to make it right? I now I'm the last person you would want to hear this from, but I still love you. I haven't stopped,” Chuck replied, gently taking her hand and turning to face him.

She stared at him, his eyes held a sincerity she hadn't seen in a long time. He meant every word. Closing her eyes for a minute, she took a deep breath and opened her eyes, pinning him with a look that held more than her words. “One chance. If you mess this up, there won't be a third chance. I can't forgive you fully yet, but I just might soon.”

He gave her a somewhat sad smile, squeezing her hand slightly, “That's all I ask. I'll do my best to prove myself to you.” He held his arms out a little, silently asking for a hug. (Y/N) debated whether or not she should, but the part of her that loved him still gave in. Slowly she brought her arms up and around Chuck, feeling something in her chest she missed. The feeling of being home. Chuck returned her hug, feeling relief course through him. He didn't want to mess up this chance.

* * *

Everything had gone well for a while, they got Castiel back...well Lucifer in Castiel's vessel, and Donatello was around for a bit. They even got Rowena and Crowley on their sides. The plan was set in motion, but no one saw this coming. Amara was winning. And Chuck was dying.

“Damn it! You can't die on me; on us now! Please, you got to fight this,” (Y/N) pleaded, craddling the unconscious man in her arms. Tears welled up in her eyes, one or two escaping and landing on his head.

“Ow...” he moaned as he stirred. Chuck looked pale, there were no wounds, but he looked hurt.

“Chuck? Are-are you alright?” Sam asked, kneeling beside them.

“You know when you're driving and a bug hits your windshield? I'm the bug,” he replied, groaning a bit as he tried to sit up. (Y/N) and Sam helped him stand up, but all his weight was being supported by Sam.

The group made their way back to the bunker and a new plan was forming. A soul bomb that Dean was to carry. No one really liked the idea, but it was all they had. All the while, (Y/N) found herself by Chuck's side the entire time. She was wondering if she'd have enough time to forgive him.

“Chuck?” she asked softly.

“Hm?” he turned to look at her, face contorted slightly in pain.

“I don't know how long we have until this works or not, but I-I just wanted to say...” she broke off.

“Say what?” he took her hand, rubbing small circles into the back of her hand with his thumb; he would always do that when she got anxious.

“I forgive you, Chuck. I forgave you a long time ago. I just couldn't tell you with everything that was happening,” she finished, catching his dull blue eyes; they weren't as bright at the moment.

He smiled, grasping her hand in a firmer grip, and pulled her into his side gently. “Better late than never, huh?”

“Almost too late,” (Y/N) muttered as she leaned against him. He gave a small chuckle and just held her as tight as he could. The two of them sat in silence while the others planned.

“Hey (Y/N)?” he broke through the silence surrounding them.

“Yeah?”

“Can you promise me something?” his voice held something she couldn't place as she sat up to look at him.

“What?”

“Promise me you won't let go of what we had. If this doesn't turn out how we want, promise you won't forget what we once had together.”

“Don't talk like that, Chuck. We're going to get through this,” she begged, staring at the broken man in front of her.

“Please, (Y/N). Please, just promise me this,” he pleaded.

“Okay. I promise.”

* * *

They won. It was over. Chuck and Amara had reconnected, Dean was alive, and Mary was back. (Y/N) had followed Sam and Castiel back to the bunker where some British lady had ambushed them and banished Cas. Now Sam lay on the floor, bleeding from a bullet wound and (Y/N) was staring down the Brit's gun.

“Please don't make me shoot you, too,” her posh voice stated, but her stance said otherwise.

“I don't think that would be wise,” (Y/N) taunted as she stood in front of Sam protectively.

“Pray tell, why would you say that?”

“Because of me.” The woman turned around to see a man behind her that radiated power to the point where he was glowing. With a click of his fingers, she was knocked out on the floor and Chuck made his way over to Sam and (Y/N). Kneeling beside Sam, he got to work on healing him.

“Thank you, Chuck,” Sam breathed as the pain went away.

“You don't have to thank me, Sam,” he smiled as he helped the hunter off the floor, “Dean is on his way home to you both.”

With another snap of his fingers, Castiel was standing next to them again. “Wait, Dean's alive?”

“Yes, he is. Amara, she finally saw what I had tried to show all that time ago, and we're working on making things right between us.”

He waited with them for Dean to come back, and were surprised when Mary was in tow. While the Winchesters reconnected, (Y/N) found where Chuck had gone; outside to watch the stars.

“So, do you have to leave again?”

“For a bit, I have to show Amara a few things, but I'll be back before you know it,” he promised, placing a kiss on her lips. But he pulled away too soon, muttering an apology, but (Y/N) wasn't having it. She grabbed a fistful of his shirt and pulled him back to her, claiming his lips. Looks like everything between them was good again.

* * *

True to his word, Chuck returned after two months and stayed at the bunker. With him, however, came the archangels. This was going to take some getting used to. Gabriel loved cooking with (Y/N) when Chuck or Dean wasn't, Raphael and her could sit in the library for hours and just read, Michael loved to watch the stars at night on the roof and share stories with her from heaven. The one that surprised most was her and Lucifer.

He was apprehensive of her at first, but now the two can be found out in the garden he planted, tending to his roses and herbs, either sharing storied and tips, or quietly in the mid-morning light. Sam, Dean, and Mary would even find the two of them in the living room they created and they'd bond over old movies and classic songs. Chuck didn't have to worry about Castiel as the two of them had a friendship that formed when they first met.

However, (Y/N) was by herself and Chuck took this opportunity to spring an idea on her. “Wanna go dancing?”

She gave him a smirk and playfully replied, “Why Chuck, are you asking me out on a date?”

“I am. So, what do you say?” he stated, leaning over the back of the couch where she was sitting.

“Do I have to get dressed up?”

“No. You look perfect as you are.”

“Chuck, I'm sitting around in my pajamas,” she deadpanned, causing him to laugh.

“True. Yes, you'll want to change, but no, you don't have to be fancy about it. Jeans and a nice shirt would be fine,” he replied once he caught his breath.

“It's a date then.”

They found themselves at this club in town that was nicer than most. The two of them had the time of their lives. After a while, a few slow songs began and one stood out to them; Say You Won't Let Go by James Arthur.

Chuck sang along to the song as he spun her around, “ I met you in the dark, you lit me up. You made me feel as though I was enough.” These few words meant so much to the two of them; they were both at a dark place, but to the other, they were a light that made them feel worth it. Made them feel like they truly were enough for the other.

Everything was going well for the couple. Everyone could see how happy they were with each other and seeing that gave Gabriel an idea. That could either be a good thing or a bad thing.

“So dad, when are you gonna pop the question to (Y/N)?” he asked out of the blue one day when she and the Winchesters were out on a hunt.

“I'm sorry, what?”

“You know, when are you going to propose to (Y/N)? You are, aren't you?” Gabriel inquired, leaning against the counter next to where he was working. Chuck sighed and stopped what he was working on.

“I don't know.”

“Oh come on! You have to have some idea on how. I know you have a ring for her.”

“How did you-”

“You left it on the counter the other day and I put it in your room before (Y/N) could see it. I know that's not how you'd want to propose to her,” Gabriel shrugged.

“Thank you for that. I've been thinking about how for days now, but each idea doesn't seem right,” Chuck confessed, running a hand through his hair. He wanted to make it special, but none of them were what he wanted to do.

“Why don't you leave the how it happens to us, and you worry about what you're going to say?” Gabriel wiggled his eyebrows before leaving the room with a stunned Chuck in his wake.

“Gabriel! Wait!” he shouted as he chased after his son.

A few days later, the others came back from their hunt. They got cleaned up and made their way out into the War Room, finding the archangels and Castiel there waiting.

“What's going on?” Dean asked, suspicious of their motives.

“We have a surprise for you all. Come on outside to the garden,” Lucifer replied, a happy smile on his face. Looking at each other, they shrugged and followed the angels outside. Gabriel pulled (Y/N) aside for a moment.

“What's up?” she wondered as he was acting strange.

“Just wanted to put this in your hair,” he replied, holding up a small white daisy and weaved it behind her ear, “come on.”

He lead her over to where the others were waiting and in the middle of it all, was her boyfriend Chuck. They gave the couple some space before she asked, “Chuck, what's going on?”

“(Y/N), I have something I want to ask you,” he replied, taking a hold of her hands.

“What is it?”

“(Y/N), before I met you, there felt like something was missing from my life. And then I met you. I met you in the dark, you lit me up. You made me feel as though I was enough. Despite everything we've been through, you were always there for me, and I hope I can always be there for you, too. I've never felt so complete until you came into my life. But there's still something missing. Something I hope you'll agree with. (Y/N), will you do the honors of filling that missing part? Will you marry me?” Chuck knelt down on one knee and revealed a blue velvet box with a beautiful silver ring with a halo of small white diamonds in the middle.

By the end of his little speech, (Y/N) had tears welling up in her eyes, her hands covering her mouth in shock. With a nod of her head, she wrapped her arms around Chuck and replied, “Yes, of course I'll marry you!”

* * *

And now we reach where we began.

There have been many things Chuck Shurley was called, but coward was not one of them. Nor would being nervous about getting married of all things, but here he was, standing at the alter, nervous for what felt like the first time in forever.

“Dad, calm down. It's going to be fine; you and (Y/N) are crazy about each other. Relax,” Raphael soothed, placing a hand on his father's shoulder.

“You're right, you're right. I just can't believe this is happening,” he sighed, trying to calm his nerves.

“You're the one who asked her, I'm pretty sure she's the one that can't believe it,” Lucifer commented from the side where he and Michael stood. Gabriel was behind a camera, making sure it was set up correctly.

*Meanwhile*

“I can't do this,” (Y/N) muttered as she paced her dressing room where Mary and Charlie stood, helping her get ready.

“Relax, sweetheart. Every bride gets nervous before their big day. If anything, Chuck is just as nervous. Everything is going to be fine,” Mary consoled, placing her hands on her shoulders to stop the frantic girl.

“Right, right. Okay, I can do this,” (Y/N) spoke to herself, slowly calming down. Charlie came back into the room with a gift in her hand.

“Here. Put this on,” she handed it over to her. It was a flower crown that looked like a halo of small white and gold daisies.

“Oh Charlie, it's beautiful!”

“I made it for you. So lets put the veil on and slid this over it.” The two women worked together to get her ready. By then, Sam, Dean, and Castiel had come up to her room. They were finally able to use those suits of theirs for something good. And Cas for once wasn't wearing his trench coat.

“You look beautiful, (Y/N),” Sam commented, pulling her in for a hug.

“He's right. Now, we're going to walk down with you to the doors, but Bobby's gonna walk you down the aisle,” Dean stated, watching her face light up. Bobby had taken the place of her father after he had passed away and to have him here meant everything to her. They all walked down the stairs and met with Bobby and Eileen at the bottom of the stairs.

Charlie and Castiel walked out, then Sam and Eileen, and finally Dean and Mary. The wedding march had started. Bobby linked his arm with (Y/N)'s and lead her out.

“I don't care if he is God, if he ever hurts you again, you let me know and I'll straighten him out for ya,” Bobby whispered as they made their way down the aisle.

“I don't think that'll happen, but thank you. If I ever need anything, I'll call,” she replied. When she saw Chuck at the alter, his eye shinning with happiness, she was glad she said yes. Bobby placed a kiss on her cheek before giving Chuck her hand. It was a small outdoor wedding with mostly hunters and a few “normal” friends that her and Chuck had. All in all, it was a beautiful ceremony.

Everyone made their way to the reception area and when they shared their first dance, it was to their song.

“I met you in the dark,

You lit me up,

You made me feel as though

I was enough”

Chuck spun her around as the song played. Despite everything that came their way, he was happy to share this life with her.

“I knew I loved you then But you'd never know 'Cause I played it cool when I was scared of letting go”

This was the happiest night of (Y/N)'s life. As she twirled around in his arms, she couldn't picture her life any different than it was now. Even if she was now the mother of a bunch of angels and wife to God himself, she wouldn't trade it for the world.

“I'm gonna love you till My lungs give out I promise till death we part like in our vows So I wrote this song for you, now everybody knows 'Cause now it's just you and me till we're grey and old Just say you won't let go Just say you won't let go”

The night wore on and while the music played and photos were taken, (Y/N) and Chuck took comfort in each other's arms. She was thankful for meeting him in the dark those years ago. Chuck became her light and she never felt more whole then she did now. Life was going to change for her and she couldn't wait to see what it had in store for her. Especially if it involved her new “step-children”. With Chuck by her side, (Y/N) was certain she could handle anything right now. She kept her promise though; she didn't let go of her love for Chuck.

And he didn't let go of her.

#sing it supernatural challenge #chuck shurley x reader #chuck shurley fluff #chuck shurley angst #archangels #say you won't let go #my writing #supernatural x reader

[unleashthemidnight]

Congratulations

Pairing: Reader x Lucifer Synopsis: There were the happier times until came the time for you to run away, and now you are standing against Lucifer once again wondering your next step. Word count: ~1800 Warnings: Angst, running away from emotions and things, Gabriel's death Notes: I want to appreciate @authoressskr and @sumara62 because this happened and so this fic was born. Love you. <3 I used song lyrics in this, songs are listed at the end. Hope you all enjoy. Do Not Repost Reblogs and comments are loved

His blue eyes looked you softly, his hands brushing yours to make sure you felt grounded, his words coming out from his lips without a second thought. He was collected. You were going through one of the bumps in your life and he knew how to handle it. He had noticed your shakiness, your trembling voice and your watery eyes. The eyes that he could have stared for hours. The eyes that shined so bright when they were full of joy. The eyes that were his new home. Just seeing those eyes filling with sadness had stopped him doing whatever was going on. He had calmed himself down, for you. He knew that him being his usual dramatic self was too much for your fragile emotional state. He needed to talk to you with peaceful manner, with voice full of care. If he yelled or paced around, you wouldn't have listened to him or the words he was saying. You would have run away and left him. He didn't want that to happen. He only wanted you. He loved you. You raised your eyes to meet his. ”Just listen to me, please. Take a deep breath. There you go, little one. I don’t want you to go. I don't want you to leave me. I will make things better. I need you to trust me with this. I want you with me. I... I need you. - - I’m begging you.”

How much you wanted that image to be real was beyond your comprehension. You loved Lucifer so much and those feelings won't die easily. How easy it would be to decide that you don't care or love something and then you just wouldn't anymore. So many hearts would be saved. The thoughts on your head only played different versions of what if situations. What if this last version you played in your head would have been true? What if he wasn't so hot-tempered and quick to make decisions for once? What if he had used just a second to think about you and your feelings? That was what you had needed but never gotten. He yelled. He paced around. He was so aggressive in his ways to throw stuff on the walls and then kicking the broken pieces on the floor so they would shatter even more. You saw yourself in those broken vases and lamps, breaking more at every second and every word. The tension was high and you weren't sure how much long you could take it. The power of his voice reminded you once more who you were with. You felt so small. You wanted all this to stop. You wanted to move on from this moment. You wanted to beg, and so you did. Saying those words felt like throwing up. It was awful and you only hoped that it would work. Maybe it would have, if he had listened to you. But he didn't. He didn't hear you beg like your heart begged you to save itself. All of this was too much for you. You couldn't take this anymore. You made your mind. You ran away and left him. You felt so confused, and stupid. Your life had changed once again. Admittedly your relationship didn't start with the best terms but Lucifer was drawn to you and your eyes from very beginning. He acted differently around you, it seemed like he had a soft spot for you. Little by little there were more moments when he just came to see what you were doing, to ask you questions and get to know you. There wasn't any talking about the eventual. Your meetings happened always when Winchesters were elsewhere and you wanted to keep your meetings secret. It was for the better; not only was Sam Lucifer's vessel and brothers were enemies with him, but you had slowly fall in love. You were scared about brothers' reactions so you kept it all secret. Because of that, you hadn't anyone to talk about your current state and thoughts. Being a hunter meant that you hadn't friends outside of the hunter-circles and telling anyone of them that you were basically dating the devil… Yeah, that wasn't going to happen. You had played the conversations over and over only to lost the count. You had dig the deepest wells and lost yourself on the way down. You were a wreck. You didn't know exactly when the nightmare started, you couldn't figure when your picture was starting to fall apart. Was it the moment when he had felt comfortable enough to talk about his true feelings? He had threw his accusations to everyone and you had listened. You had tried to understand his side of the things and calm him down after all the steam was blown out. You had have the magic touch to tame the beast. But Lucifer couldn't let go of things. You had heard the same things so many times that you already knew what he was going to say next. Word by word, what someone had said or done, how people blamed him for their own stupid decisions without realising there would be consequences. But even when Lucifer was wrong, he had found the fault from someone else's doings. He had been the golden boy, the once innocent and heaven sent, and so he saw himself still. You had took it all in and let it slide until you couldn't anymore. Every story has to come to its end and you needed to cut yourself out of this one. Your mind ran on circles. The time had passed. Many people and monsters had passed. You would probably stand against Lucifer once more. How it would feel? How it would feel to look at the one who you loved once? To look at the one who tored your heart out? Would he actually kill you for his next trick? The cycle had gotten so bad that you already thought of death, and you found yourself thinking how Lucifer would end you. Maybe this was his plan all along. Maybe he wanted you to run away and when you did, it was win for him. Maybe he didn't love you and wanted you out, and playing with your emotions and weaknesses was the best way to do that. The best way to torture you. Maybe he couldn't face his true feelings for you and was scared. Or maybe he just didn't realise what was going on because you didn't open up and the focus was lately more on him than on you. Maybe he just couldn't see how he was already killing you slowly. You had to get a grip of yourself. You needed to stop thinking about all of this. You had a job. Even if you couldn't talk with Winchesters about this, you could still rely on them and go on hunt with them. You needed distractions and hunting was the answer. The road that had lead you at Elysian Fields Hotel had been long and full of twist and turns. Sam and Dean were helping people out of the place but you turned back. No matter how much you had hated how the fairytale ended, there was still small but even stronger piece of hope in your heart. Maybe you could make things right again, just stop all of this from happening. The moment when you had walked back in the room made you feel paralysed, frozen in time. You saw and heard it all. If you ever wanted to close your eyes and make it all go away, this was the moment. The walls around you could have crashed down and you wouldn't have hear or seen that. The only thing that you could see was Lucifer, and Gabriel's body on the ground. Lucifer noticed you standing at the door, and took couple of steps towards you like he was trying to intimidate you. It was reflex for him at this point. As much as he had hurted you, he was still hurting from your leaving. ”Don't you have anything to say? Did I went too far this time for your taste? Don't you want to run away from me, again? ” Lucifer questioned you with mocking sound in his voice. ”Congratulations,” you answered with flat voice when grounding yourself to the moment. ”Congratulations?” Lucifer tilted his head and squinted his eyes. ”For what?” ”You got what you wanted. You won. You got your shot, you wore me down, you tore my heart out. You kept the reapers busy. You have caused death and destruction. You fucking killed your own brother, the one who still loved you and wanted to give you yet another chance. Like me, I gave you so many chances because I cared about you, I loved you. And sometimes I can't even remember the reason why I did. So congratu-fucking-lations.” There were moment of silence. You swept tears from your face with your sleeve. The last time you did that was when you had run away. Finally you had poured your emotions and anger out to someone, no matter if that someone was the one who had caused all of that. It was relief to say the things that were occupying your mind. It helped to clear the months of chaos in our head. You sighed and took deep breath. You looked at Lucifer and saw him looking at his dead brother and marks of burned wings. You felt your heart and gut twisting. Gabriel had been your friend, he was only trying to save you and the rest of the humanity. He didn't deserve this. You lifted your eyes back to Lucifer who was still looking at the corpse. There was signs of thinking and signs of remorse. It caused you to do something you didn't thought you would ever do again. You wanted to reason with him. “Lucifer,” you broke the silence and got the archangel's attention, ”just know that you don't need to do any of this anymore. You can leave this all behind and move on. Sure we can't go back the way we were, not for a long time, but I would gladly help you to readjust yourself for the new life. The world is a bad place but as Gabriel said, we are trying to be better. We are trying to forgive each other, we are trying to learn. It is what he wanted. You need a big move to make it right. You can begin again.” “I really don’t think you get it now. No matter how much anyone begs me to stop, how much they want me to change, I… I never will.” Lucifer glanced at you and next thing you heard was flutter of his wings. This time, he was the one who ran away.

Tag list: @pizzamanteachings Songs used in the fic:

Rachel Platten – Congratulations x

Rachel Platten – Begin again x

#lucifer x reader #lucifer #lucifer fanfiction #reader insert #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural #unleashthemidnight writes #congratulations