damienofhell-blog

[damienofhell-blog]

“Was it aliens? Was it zombies? Was it demons???”

xx // not accepting

“Demons is probably the safest bet.”

[damienofhell-blog]

darcybby:

“That’s a lot of people to keep track of. I’m glad I don’t have to do it. But if you’re good at that stuff, you can go ahead. I’d draw you a banner. Dad says if you cheer someone on, it helps them win.”

Darcy turns her head when she hears other boys snickering behind them. She sticks her tongue out, huffing. “Ignore them. They’re stupid and think you’re gonna get cooties.”

Damien felt his cheeks growing warm again. The boys laughing, however, pulled his attention away. “Cooties aren’t real,” he said, as if sharing a secret. “And if they were, I don’t think you’d have them.” He turned to glare at them. Suddenly, a juice box burst, spraying the boys in the sticky liquid.

[damienofhell-blog]

darcybby:

“Soccer? Are you any good at it? Maybe you should join the soccer team.”

She smiles a little wider at him when he asks what she’s going to do with the remaining crayons. She shrugs and drops them into the corners. “They can sit together at the end, so they’re not lonely.” Darcy gives the box a little shake to loosen them up inside and puts it away, inside her desk. “I’ve never played soccer before, just tag and stuff. Is it hard?”

“Maybe.” He had the feeling most of his classmates didn’t like him very much. Damien watched her and couldn’t help but like the fact that she kept them together. “Sometimes. You have to make a plan with your team. But then you have to change it in case the other team does something you weren’t planning.”

[damienofhell-blog]

gcdgiven:

“Clean up and wrap up, that’s the sort of thing humans get, ye-a-p,” he replied with a mumble, half distracted as he dug through the first aid kit. He plucked up an ointment, frowning down at the small print. After a beat, his face wrinkled, then quickly straightened - thought in process. He looked up, and waved a hand up and down to signify Damien, “Well, human-ish. Immortal you may be, though touched by sword and dagger.”

And malicious cat. But that was still a sore spot (literally for the son, figuratively for the father), so he made the right decision in leaving that out. He set the ointment aside, finally realizing it was meant for burns, and continued scrounging through.

“That’s not for cuts,” he pointed out, “For burns. I used to get those all the time when I was a boy. I used to set stars ablaze, and sometimes they’d flare up and catch my hands. Mum would always scold me for not being more careful… but she’d heal the skin every time.”

Lucifer paused, lifting his own hand palm-up. Of course, every time she did it, Dad would yell at her, scold her for not letting it scar over… He’ll never learn if it doesn’t stay. But he knew better than to linger. The Silver City was forbidden, even in his memories. So he swallowed, and hastily shook his head. Damien first. He blinked, hard, and finally found the antiseptic he was looking for. He tugged it out, and leaned over to grab a clean cloth out of the cupboard.

“Well, this is no bippity boppity boo, but it will make you feel better.” He was about to start cleaning, but he paused. A teeny, tiny, voice in the back of his head (probably the detective’s) reminded him that he was dealing with a child. Children had a tendency to worry about these sorts of things. His mouth pinched to the side for a moment, looking down at his hands and the wound, before he looked up at Damien. He wasn’t going to lie, so, “This is going to hurt a little, but perhaps if we took a big breath together? We’ll try holding it - and if you feel like crying still, we’ll do that too. Sound like a plan?”

Damien watched daddy sort through the box and talk. Sometimes he rambled and said things Damien didn’t understand, but he didn’t mind. He liked the way daddy’s voice sounded. His interest was caught, however, when daddy mentioned his mom and childhood. He didn’t understand how daddy lit stars, but he still believed him.

Daddy hung stars in the sky!

“Where’s your mommy?” he asked. While she was his grandmother, Damien felt weird calling her that. Grandma, mommy’s mother, had always worn nice clothes with the fur of some poor creature around her neck. Once he had reached out to touch it, curious to see if it was as soft as it looked. The slap to the back of his hand had left him reeling. Damien wondered if daddy’s mommy was anything like her. He hoped not.

A giggle came out when daddy suggested they breathed together to make it through the pain of cleaning the scratches. “You’re silly, daddy,” he told him. “It’s okay. It’ll sting, I know, but it’ll make me feel better, like you said.” After all, Damien had complete and utter faith in daddy.

[damienofhell-blog]

like for a starter. maybe. idk.

[damienofhell-blog]

Antichrist, 2009.

dir. Lars von Trier

[damienofhell-blog]

“I can only sprint in sudden bursts.”

xx // accepting

Damien threw a smile over his shoulder. He slowed his pace so he matched strides with Darcy. “We’re jogging, not sprinting.” He drew to a stop and caught her wrist. “We can take a break if you’d like -- just walk for a minute.”

[damienofhell-blog]

A primitive culture like the Vikings might have worshipped them as deities.

[damienofhell-blog]

👶 !!! their precious gray. uvu

xx // accepting

“Grayson Amani Lewis!” 

Although he didn’t actually raise his voice, Damien’s strict tone was enough to give the five year-old pause. Blue eyes blinked slowly, looking back and forth between his father and the box of cookies he had climbed onto the counter for. Letting out a frustrated sigh, Damien crossed the kitchen and picked up his son and placed him on the ground.

“You know better than that. What if you had fallen and gotten hurt?”

Grayson kept his gaze on the floor before leaning into his father and burying his face into his stomach. Normally Damien would put the child in timeout, but even he wasn’t immune to the look on his face. “Come on, let’s see what your teacher gave you for homework. And after dinner you might get some cookies.”

[damienofhell-blog]

𝓞𝓗 𝓛𝓞𝓡𝓓 𝓞𝓗 𝓛𝓞𝓡𝓓,                      I’M BEGGING YOU PLEASE,                                         𝓓𝓞𝓝'𝓣 𝓣𝓐𝓚𝓔 𝓣𝓗𝓐𝓣 𝓢𝓘𝓝𝓝𝓔𝓡 𝓕𝓡𝓞𝓜 𝓜𝓔                                                                                damien thorn && darcy lewis

[damienofhell-blog]

Markiplier sentence starters: Kholat

“The wind is whipping with increased intensity.” “Cannibalism? Is that what I’m going to experience here?” “Ah, tits! Where am I?” “Your narration skills need some work.” “Okay, this looks – horrifying.” “I guess I’ll just walk into this giant pit of bones.” “Oh, hey, fire eyes, you’re looking pretty to– Okay, I’m out of here.” “This is the area of lower frame rate.” “Ding-dong! Girl Scout cookies! – AH OH FUCK YOU! – I’m all out of thin mints.” “Blah blah blah I’m about to be murdered blah blah blah.” “I look away for one second and you’re done! Like a typical man.” “I totally forgot I was in imminent danger.” “I guess this was the short cut to the long way around.” “I can only sprint in sudden bursts.” “’They have something they call the fear chamber.’ That’s what I call my bedroom.” “Was it aliens? Was it zombies? Was it demons?”

[damienofhell-blog]

Send '👶' for a glimpse of my muses parenting.

[damienofhell-blog]

gcdgiven:

He grinned at the red growing on the man’s cheeks. Aww, was that a crush? Oh, how pathetically human. Lucifer adored it, and had no shame in making that simple amusement known. He pointed at Damien’s face, before he split his jacket apart to put his hands in his pockets, rocking back on his heels. Fiancee. That was one of those pre-wives, wasn’t it? Oh, Damien Thorn was to be married. Oh, he’d pay to see the look on his father’s face to see the Antichrist making promises in his invited view. In the eyes of God and all that.

But his joy faded as Damien’s expression grew serious. It was easy to make fun of a sheepish boy, but this man carried a heavy weight. He had the misfortune of having a celestial being’s luck. Creatures like them thrived on existing by the skin of their teeth - rarely did such a lifestyle work for mortal companions. It was a pity, to love something so fragile as a human. He admired Damien’s careful protection. Lucifer had lived quite a while, and could easily name hellhounds as one of the more fierce defenders in the universe. If the dogs assigned to this Darcy were truly under Damien’s command, Lucifer couldn’t help but feel sorry for any bastard that came at her with ill intent.

“She named them. She named the dogs,” Lucifer repeated, almost deadpan. He paused, before going on, “Well. Sounds like a hell of a woman.”

Lucifer let the pun simmer for a moment before grinning. No one was a bigger fan of his jokes than him, after all. He opened his mouth, as if to go on, but in a rare moment of restraint, he remembered Damien was trying to slip away. This wasn’t the time nor the place. Besides, Lucifer still had a crime to solve. Hastily, he pulled his phone out, and tapped through to his contacts.

All the while, he went on, “I won’t keep you from her, in that case. Here-” Lucifer held the phone to Damien, “-to put your number in. I’ll have to be heading back to work. You’d think dead bodies stay put, but there’s all that nasty business with decomposing. Besides, murderers don’t arrest themselves.”

Although Lucifer’s joke didn’t fail to land, it resulted in not a laugh, but in Damien closing his eyes and letting out a sigh. He pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on. Now he was worried that should he meet Darcy, the two might actually get along. 

Still, he took Lucifer’s phone -- the fact that the devil had a phone was a thought he couldn’t wrap his mind around -- and typed in his number as requested. Damien tossed a confused look over the phone. Handing it back, he asked, “You solve crimes? Murders?” Shouldn’t he be ruling over Hell? Was there nothing better for him to do? Although, he was supposed that delivering punishment was part of his job. 

“Why are you here anyway? In Los Angeles?” If he wanted to solve crimes, Detroit was a better option. If he wanted to hand out punishment, a war torn country was the ideal place. But California? 

[damienofhell-blog]

                     what am i going to do?

                                                i’m going to do what i HAVE TO DO.

[damienofhell-blog]

relationship aesthetic  → damien & darcy for @damienofhell ft. grayson lewis.

You will come of age with our young nation. We’ll bleed and fight for you, we’ll make it right for you. If we lay a strong enough foundation, we’ll pass it on to you, we’ll give the world to you, and you’ll blow us all away someday. I swear that I’ll be around for you, I’ll do whatever it takes. I’ll make a million mistakes, I’ll make the world safe and sound for you.

[damienofhell-blog]

gcdgiven:

It frightened Lucifer, feeling how small Damien was, and yet when the thought occurred to imagine a time where Damien would be big enough and strong enough to protect himself, the image refused to come. Even Lucifer, for all he had seen, simply couldn’t imagine his son as anything more than the little boy he was now. Perhaps that was a blessing, though. He didn’t know what he’d do when the day came that he’d look at his son and see a man.

“Well, bandages first,” he pointed out. He was about to go on, pointing out that he’d have to go and practically charm the pants off of Mrs. Clifford to give them a pass regarding the cat - but he kept imagining the worst, remembering a time when witch hunts started over someone so much as sneezing in the wrong way. He wouldn’t let anyone hurt Damien, but that included himself. He wouldn’t make Damien afraid. So he swallowed back the tactless words and assured the boy, “But why not? A little bit of reading never hurt anyone now, did it?”

He pulled his head back, ducking slightly to find Damien’s face before offering a smile. Stepping into the bathroom, he sat Damien down on the counter before ducking underneath to pull a first aid kit from the cabinet. He stood up, and held up the bag for Damien to see.

“See, here we go,” his voice was lighter, trying to cheer the boy up, “We’ll have you patched up in no time at all!”

A small smile found its way onto Damien’s face. Daddy’s smile and promise to read to him had eased the tension in him. He kicked his feet, heels lightly colliding with the cabinets below him. Peering into the first aid kit, Damien picked out the boring bandages. Mommy had kept a box with prints of dinosaurs on them just for him. Even though daddy didn’t have any, he wasn’t going to complain. Maybe he could ask for some next time they went to the store. But then again, big boys used the tan colored bandages. 

“Do we have to wash it first?” That was what mommy always did. She said injuries needed to be cleaned right away. But the soap always made his wound sting and brought tears to his eyes. Damien didn’t want to cry anymore. He was supposed to be a big boy.

[damienofhell-blog]

date a girl who threatens to fight anyone who disrespects you - despite the fact she’s 5'3".