#I will kick you into next week exorcist

[writing-mlm]

Hi, may I request a Tim Drake x male!reader story ? The reader is androgynous, has a rock/punk style, is a Japanese exorcist who dislikes heroes, and has an impulsive, shameless, and slightly paranoid personality. A fluff piece, please. Sorry for asking a lot, take care of yourself !

Stay for dinner-breakfast

Summary: Tim’s in a situationship with someone who hates heroes, this is just great. Pairing: Tim Drake x Male!Reader Wc: 3.8k tags/warnings: Japanese reader, way too many Blue Exorcist references, small demon fight

When most people familiar enough with demons or even the Justice League mention needing an exorcist, minds immediately go to the infamous John Constantine. The guy who managed to trick God and Satan, making himself nearly immortal. The guy who, admittedly, could probably control most demons with the flick of his cigarette.

Tim’s mind, however, wanders to a guy he met during his time abroad. When he had to do some Red Robin stuff that took him to Japan. He reminisces about it as if it was decades ago, in reality, it was two years ago. Hardly even two years, if he’s being honest. But he rarely is. 

While Bruce and Dick argue about whether or not they should call up John (the last time they did, Constantine ended up summoning more demons to deal with the initial demons and then blew up a building to get rid of the extra demons) (it cost Wayne Enterprises too much to justify asking that man for help again) Tim fishes out his phone. It doesn’t take him long to find the contact; it’s been what… a week since you’ve last spoken. He’s texted exactly three people within that week; Kon, Bart, and Jason. Jason because he wanted to know if he could join a drug bust he knew Jason had coming up. 

The answer was no. 

The phone rings as he spins in the chair, waiting until he hears that it’s connecting. Seriously, it’s already been three whole rings, what’s the hold-up?

“Whaddya want, hero boy?” You ask without looking down at the phone. Probably because you’re jumping from the ledge of a roof to a lamppost and then to the top of a vending machine. 

“You busy?” He asks, looking at the mole underneath your jaw. He hadn’t known that. Your head tilts from side to side as you make a noise. 

“I’ll have to check my calendar,” Glancing down at the phone, you wink and then pocket the phone. 

“There’s a demon in Gotham, could use the help.” He says, barely able to see as you’re fighting a demon. His eyes glance up at the contact name Okumura, unassuming to most because it is someone’s last name but to Tim, it’s so much more. 

He thought it was absolutely hilarious that you were an exorcist from Japan, raised by a priest, with a twin brother, and had the same hobbies as the anime where the main character is an exorcist from Japan, raised by a priest, with a twin brother. You didn’t think it was nearly as funny. The first time he mentioned it you kicked him from a rooftop— it was three stories, he was fine. 

“Like now?” You ask, picking your sword— just like the anime character, he’d gladly remind you— and cutting the demon in half with a mumbled but strong prayer. 

“Yes,” He nods, looking at the live feed of a demon messing up the finance district of Gotham. 

“Fine,” You grumble. “You’re lucky I finished my work for the day. See you in a minute.” 

“Kay, bye!” He hangs up and removes an earbud, calling for Bruce and Dick who haven’t stopped arguing. He wonders how they’d get anything done without him. They stop and look towards him as he waves his phone. “I have someone coming in for the demons.” He announces and Dick just hopes it’s not one of his friends from his YJ time. He cannot deal with those kids after finding out they watched Santa Claus get killed by a sentient meteor and then spent the next five months delivering gifts. 

“It isn’t Constantine, right?” Bruce asks, arms crossed and a disapproving glare ready to be plastered on his face. 

“That white man has nothing on me,” You chuckle, entering the Batcave through the door, spinning a set of skeleton keys on your index finger before putting them back into your pocket. Pointedly, Tim looks off to the wall with a see, anime guy look before turning back to the task at hand. 

“Who…?” Dick slowly asks while Bruce is having second thoughts about letting Tim back into the cave ever again.

“That’s Okumura,” He responds, standing up from the chair to greet you.

You’re wearing a pair of jorts— but the good kind, not the weird-looking ones— with hand-bleach-painted crosses on the leg, chunky beige leg warmers over a pair of shiny black loafers and an extremely large sweater that falls off your shoulder as you run down the stairs overtop a black turtleneck. 

There’s a pair of red shades on the top of your head, they curve at the top in a way that makes it look as though you have horns. Tim decides to not comment on the obvious joke he could make. But you can tell he wants to make it because of the glint in his eyes.

“Hello!” You nod without looking at them, too focused on not tripping over the steps, and give the group a small two-finger wave. “Tim calls me Okumura, it is not my name, though.” The hand that was doing the wave meets his hand and you do a funky little handshake before you look over at them for the first time. You frown, looking at their suits. It’s not even a frown, it’s damn near a scowl. You look at Tim who just shrugs; he would’ve thought you knew he was with his hero family.

“I’ll head out the demon; tell them not to follow me,” You tell Tim and he nods, sending you the location of the fight. While he does that, you look around for a different exit when you see his motorcycle parked, ready to go. “I’m stealing your motorbike again!” You call as you’re rushing over to it. 

“Kay!” He replies, head still buried in his phone. The motorcycle reeves to life as you jump on it; Bruce nearly stops you but the door to the cave is opening and you’re off faster than he can move. Slowly, he turns towards Tim with his arms crossed and a lecture waiting to happen.

“You better have a good explanation for that,” Bruce says once the door closes again. 

“That’s my exorcist friend,” He explains with a shrug. 

“You have friends outside of Kon?” Jason asks, a teasing tone to his voice but Tim can tell it genuinely surprised Dick. He doesn’t know if he should be hurt by that. 

“Yeah,” He shrugs. 

“And he’s an exorcist?” Bruce asks, looking at where the motorcycle once sat. He really hopes you don’t break it.

“Yup.”

“How did he get here so fast?” Dick asks, a little worried Tim was hiding a person in the manor.

“Funny story,” Tim smiles, looking up at them before looking down again, leaving them hanging. Jason grumbles, air strangling him while Bruce just sighs and looks back to the live feed. Thankfully you’d already arrived at the scene and to Tim and your credit, you’re dealing with the demons fairly easily. It’s surprising that your face is hidden from the public’s view, he hadn’t seen a mask but he also hadn’t seen the giant sword so. Probably some magic he won’t care about but probably should learn.

“Let’s go, fifteen Joker goons spotted around the site.” In a fluid motion, Tim puts his mask on and follows Bruce into the Batmobile. 

When Tim gets out of the car, he immediately finds you. You’re on top of a demon, riding it in the air while laughing and stabbing a nearby demon. He stops for a moment, wondering how you managed to wrangle a demon enough to sit on its back as if it were a horse. He then sees the knife in its head and he understands. He’s nearly jealous of the sight. 

Tim finally joins the others in the fight, narrowly avoiding the demons spawning from someplace he hasn’t found out yet. But you have, because you kill the flying horse demon and land softly behind Tim, cutting a demon away before it can sneak up on him. He shouts a thank you, pushing two goons back with his staff.

“I said no heroes!” You shout as you’re running past, heading towards a glowing manhole. How he hadn’t noticed it before; he won’t ever know. 

“Did he say no heroes?” Dick grunts, pushing back two goons that tried to jump him. 

“Yeah, he got issues with them.” Tim laughed before he was punched in the stomach by the goon he’d been fighting. He grumbles, holding the spot for a second before he knocks the goon out. “How many more are left?” He asks.

“Four,” Bruce says as he knocks out one of them. “Three.”

He goes to reply when there’s a loud explosion from the manhole and he looks over. Blue smoke rises out from the holes and he abandons trying to help the others fight the remaining goons in favor of finding you in the chaos. He doesn’t know what the smoke is but he assumes it’s some type of Joker Gas and he knows you’re not used to that. 

Putting a respirator on his face, he moves the manhole cover and jumps down. He squints into the blue fog, listening for noises but there’s a lot. There are hundreds of insect demons scurrying around him, hissing from the pipes, and he stops to really listen. He hears a string of coughs and follows it, the smoke getting thicker but he sees the faint outline of you lying on your back. 

“You don’ need a mask,” You huff, waving your hand in an attempt to move the smoke. “It is not poison.” 

“What is it?” He asks, removing the respirator as the smoke starts to clear, escaping up to the manhole. Your figure gets clearer, he can see your shirt and your hands resting on your stomach. 

“Spell,” You respond. “A… boobtrap for the talisman.”

“Boobytrap.” He corrects, putting the small device back into his pocket.

“That is what I said.” You blink, sitting up. He doesn’t fight you on that and helps you to your feet before he stops, hand still in yours. Now that you’re up close, he can really see you and when his eyes trail down, he inhales sharply and looks away.

“You’re not gonna believe this,” He says, covering his mouth with his free hand. 

“What? Did I get ugly? Do I look like you?” You ask, genuinely concerned as you pat your face but calm down when you feel your features. 

“Worse,” He grins and reaches around to grab your newly formed tail. “You really are Okumura now!” You shout, tugging at the tail only to wince because it’s connected to you. It only makes him laugh harder and you shout again, shaking him.

“This is not funny!” You tell him and then pause. “Thhhis,” You repeat and then cover your mouth. His eyebrows raise and, to his credit, he stops laughing. At least until you remove your hand and open your mouth, showing off the newly formed sharp canines. He barks a laugh and then pushes your hair away from your ear and you watch in horror as he spins on his heel to hide his expression. 

“You two okay down there?” Dick shouts from the top of the manhole.

“Fine!” Tim replies through his laugh. 

“That was one voice!”

“Fine!” You reply, even though you’re freaking out as your fingers trace over the suddenly sharp ears on your head. 

“I'm cursed!” You cry, dropping your head onto Tim’s shoulder, your ear nearly poking him in the eye. “This is your fault.” Pushing him away, you pick up your sword from the floor and resheath it with ease. “Never trust a hero,” You grunt, rushing over to the manhole.

“My fault?” He echos, following you out of the manhole. 

“You called me into your freaky city!” Climbing to the top of the manhole, you sit and kick his face. Not too hard, though. He shouts, holding his nose with one hand and the railing with the other. Standing up, you redo your hair over your ears and try to stuff the tail into your pants but it swings wildly and then wraps around something that’s behind you. 

When you look at what it was holding, you find it’s wrapped around Tim’s hand, helping him out of the manhole. 

“I think it likes you,” You grin despite yourself. 

“So, you like the tail?” He asks, checking his nose through the reflective metal of his staff. Thankfully his nose wasn’t broken, but it was throbbing in pain. Red on the end and he’s rubbing it with his free hand. You shrug, crossing your arms. 

“If it holds you like that,” Winking, he rolls his eyes under the mask and looks over at his family. Your eyes follow and you check your phone; there are no texts from anyone but you pretend that there are. 

“Wow, glad we settled that then.” He hums, smiling at you. 

“Mhmm, well, bye!” 

“Wait—“ He grabs the tail as you’re walking away and you grunt, eyes wide as you turn to look at him. Your eyes dart to and from the tail, watching as his fingers absentmindedly play with the soft furs on the end. “Stay for dinner, you did say I owed you.” When you first met, you’d gotten a glorious dinner and he ran into you, spilling it right into a sewer drain. You still think about that day and get upset. 

“Is it…” You cringe as you can’t find the right word. “American food?” He chuckles, remembering the countless videos you’ve sent him with angry and crying emojis. Hotdogs in jello, white bread soaked in water, mashed potatoes made out of potato chips, and boiled plain, unseasoned chicken with unwashed white rice.

“It’s not the American food you sent me.” He promises. “It’s good, I like it.” Your face scrunches as that’s not much to go off of; the man drinks Monster Energy’s like it's water. You’re sure it’s melted off his taste buds at this point.

“But you also like the vending machine cakes.” 

“It was good.” He defends. “But this is really good, trust me?”

“I wasn’t invited by B,” You glance over at the scowling Batman and glare back. Tim grabs your face, turning you to look back at him. You smile at him in a way that makes his stomach flutter and he clears his throat, dropping his hand. 

“Ugh! B, can he stay for dinner?” He asks, pressing his finger against his earpiece. 

“No.”

“He said yes,” He smiles and you struggle to still say no to him.

“I have to speak to the council about this—“ You gesture to your newly formed tail and ears. “Raincheck.”

Tim sighs but relents. 

“We’ll make your favorite next time; as a thank you.” He promises and you nod, waving before jogging up to a random door. The team watches as you pull out the keys and open the door, showing the headquarters of the council you work for. You wave again, your tail waving along before the door closes. 

“Better than Constantine,” Jason says as he looks at the ash on the ground. 

—

“That skirt does not go with that shirt,” Damian stops at Tim’s door, blinking at the oak door as Tim laughs. “I regret buying you VIP and custom makeup,” Now, Damian’s no idiot. He has friends and Jon, much to his chagrin, has gotten him into Roblox. So he knows very well that Tim is talking about Dress to Impress. 

“What? It looks cute!” Another voice defends, a voice that isn’t one he’s familiar with. He’d assumed Tim was talking to Kon, maybe Bart, or even himself. “You’re the one wearing a neon green fur hat when the theme is Victorian!” Carefully, he grabs onto the brass doorknob, pressing his other hand to the door and slowly turns it. 

“It’s camp,” Tim replies. He’s sitting on his bed with his legs crossed and laptop perched between them. Regrettably, he’s in an old band t-shirt and sweats; not company attire Damian would later remark. Across from him, sitting with their back to the door, Damian stares at the dangling sword earrings and then the tattered Eastern Youth shirt overtop a pair of leather pants. But his focus is on the tail swishing back and forth. 

“It’s ugly, just like your face,” You remark. Tim smiles, still looking down at his laptop, and moves his leg to kick you. You grab his ankle before he can and extend his leg, tossing your own over it. He shifts so both his legs are out and you naturally sit with your legs intertwined. 

Damian turns his nose up and leaves the room, the door softly locking behind him. 

“Pretty sure you weren’t saying that earlier,” Tim chides after the door had closed, watching as Damian’s footsteps leave from his door. 

“I did,” You hum, showing how you’d gotten first place and he’d gotten dead last. He rolls his eyes, leaves the game, and turns off your iPad. Next time he’ll just rig the game, clearly, the lobby didn’t understand his vision. 

“You should stay for dinner,” Your face contorts at the idea and you scoot closer to him until your ankles reach his back and his knees are at your ribs. “They’re not bad, not right now, at least.” He adds, messing with your studded belt. 

“I don’t like heroes, Tim,” You remind him. He frowns, eyes meeting your own. “And Bruce definitely will not welcome me after the curse,” Right, the whole demon curse. His eyes move to your tail that’s now wrapping around his left leg, the soft hairs brushing against his calf. While you’re not wrong, Bruce would have a heart attack if Tim was caught letting a demon (it's temporary, the council assured you) inside his house. 

“Fuck what Bruce has to say; I have my place! I run the company now, too,” He shrugs. 

“So why are we at the manor?” You tilt your head and he shrugs again. 

“Alfred offered to make my favorite for dinner because I haven’t visited since the whole demon thing.” You tut, leaning forward so your head rests on his chest. He looks at your awkwardly folded pose and pushes your legs. Getting the hint, you lift yourself and fold your legs underneath you. He lays his head on top of yours, using his phone behind your back. 

The two of you sit in silence until your legs go numb and you turn around, now watching as he scrolls through his socials. He shifts so one arm holds you close and locks his legs over yours while you hold his hand. 

Now, despite how it may look, you and Tim were not in a relationship. Nearly, you’ll both admit that much. But nothing that ever surpassed longing glances and touching that lasted far too long for the two of you to simply be friends. 

And that was for one simple reason.

Tim was a hero. 

You don’t hate heroes, simply a strong dislike towards them. For a multitude of reasons, enough for a twenty-page paper. Tim would know, he had you make one when you first rejected him. You don’t really trust them, all of them except for Tim. And maybe his strange friend Kon, but that’s about it. All of the rest can leave you the hell alone. 

Your phone buzzes and you spare it a glance; a call from your superior. 

“I gotta go,” You tell him but make no move to leave. He just hums, still scrolling on his phone. “There’s probably an attack and I’m needed.”

“That’s crazy,” He mutters, showing you a video of a cat lying down in an empty fishbowl. 

“And Alfred will probably come up soon,” The time is around when dinner is usually ready.

“Probably,” He agrees. Your phone starts ringing again and you stare at it. 

“I really should be going,” 

“You really shouldn’t.” He drops his phone to hold you with both arms.

“I’ll get in trouble,” You look up at him and he just blinks. “They’ll take my keys away.” He relents and lets you stand but you don’t move. He raises an eyebrow and you smile before flicking him with your tail and getting up. 

He spluttered at the hairs, wiping his mouth as you shoved your feet into your boots. 

“See you,” You wave before opening his bedroom door to your boss's room. He sees the woman sitting on the edge of her desk, dangling her phone. She sees him and you quickly shut the door. 

Flopping onto his back, Tim runs his hands down his face and stares at the ceiling. He rolls over and looks down at your iPad, deciding he’ll just keep it until you notice it’s gone.

—

“Still have an issue with me being a hero?” Tim asks as you’re cooking in his apartment. You’re making breakfast for dinner, considering he’d come back at three in the morning and you’d skipped breakfast in favor of dealing with some demons terrorizing school.

“Yes, Tim.” You reply, setting a third pancake onto the plate. He leans against your back, staring at the side of your face while making sure to be careful of your sharp ear. Your tail pulls him closer and he snickers. “The tail has nothing to do with me,” You grumble, side-glancing at him. 

“Even if I say pretty please?” He bats his long eyelashes, making sure that they tickle your face. 

“You’re making a very convincing argument,” You laugh, pushing his face away. With a small snicker, he pulls his face and adjusts his grip on you. Tim sighs into your shoulder and then steals a piece of bacon, narrowly avoiding the slap from the spatula.

“Can I just be the one hero you like?” He hops onto the counter, watching as you continue to cook. 

“You already are,” You watch from the corner of your eye as he flicks his hair out of his face, studying you. He watches you for another minute or two, offering up forks when it’s time to plate the food. He’s clearly thinking as he pours the cups of juice, smiling while he jumps back on the counter before he eventually speaks up. 

“Can I take you on a date, then?” He asks, eyes flickering from the last pancake to your face. Pausing mid-flip, you shrug. Taking a moment to think about it, Tim watches as your tail slowly moves side to side before it settles on the back of the couch.

“It would be faster if you just kissed me, if I’m being honest.” You chuckle and his eyebrows raise. 

“You’re telling me all of this could’ve been avoided with… a kiss?” He slowly asks and you nod, turning the fire off and then moving to be in front of him. He reaches for you, his fingers curling under your jaw as you stare up at him. Opening his legs, you sit between them and mess with the hair around his face. 

“I just wanted to see some initiative,” You hum and he rolls his eyes before crashing his lips into yours.

[hazbinwhoree]

Do you do yandere requests? Because I want to request yandere Adam and Lute with a shy imp reader who's terrified of angels and exorcists because she had a very traumatic experience during extermination day. Maybe he tries to take her to heaven, thinking she's too pure for hell and convincing Sera to turn her into an angel?

Milk & Cookies

Part 1/2 Part 2

A/N: I don’t usually write yandere so I hope you like it! I did my best but Adam might be a little out of character. I can do headcanons if this doesn’t satisfy, just request!

Warnings: Toxic relationships

Adam found (Name) during an extermination. The imp looked so utterly terrified, Adam actually couldn’t bring himself to kill her. She hadn’t seen him, so when she ran, Adam followed her. He didn’t really know why or what was special about this imp, but he was drawn to her.

When he met back up with Lute, he confided to her about the imp and his strange pull towards her. Lute shrugged him off until a year later, during the next extermination. She found an imp that looked so scared, it made Lute pause.

“What’s up, danger tits?” Adam asked, noticing her hesitation. He followed her gaze to the same imp who had been on his mind since last year.

“Her,” he murmured. “That’s her?” Lute asked. “Okay, I get it now.”

Adam pulled some strings to gather intel on the imp when they were finished the extermination. Her name was (Name). She’d been attacked during an extermination a few years ago, leaving her with white scars, and her best friend was brutally slaughtered in front of her. Adam was sympathetic, no wonder she was so terrified.

He decided her quality of life in Hell didn’t suit what she deserved. The poor thing deserved to be in Heaven.

With him.

During the next extermination, Adam and Lute sought her out. When they found her, she screamed and cried and begged, throwing things and kicking in a futile attempt to keep them back. But her small frame was nothing compared to Adam.

“Relax, we’re not gonna fucking hurt you,” he tried to soothe her, but he wasn’t exactly a soothing presence.

When it was clear she couldn’t be reasoned with, Adam just picked her up and threw her over his shoulder, taking flight with Lute close behind. (Name) screamed and cried, pounding on his back and kicking her feet, but she was no match to Adam’s strength.

It was hard to be discreet, carrying a resistant imp into Heaven. But he was Adam, and no one questioned him.

By the time they got to Adam’s home, (Name) had calmed down, accepting her fate. Adam brought her to his bedroom and put her down, blocking the door. She scampered into a corner, curling up into a fetal position.

Adam approached her and crouched down, holding out his hand like she was a scared animal. She blinked at him, her eyes teary, and recoiled. Adam sighed.

“It’s okay,” he said, voice sickly sweet. “You’ll learn to love it here. You’ll learn to love me.” (Name) whimpered.

Over the next few weeks, Adam kept her locked in his room, the only people allowed in being himself and Lute. Adam was slowly breaking (Name) down, getting her to accept her circumstances and accept him.

He even got her to tell him why she was so afraid of him in her own words. He fawned over her, pretending to be shocked and appalled by her story.

She bought it, and for the first time, let Adam touch her with a hug. Adam was ecstatic that she was coming around.

One day, he and Lute were on their way back to Adam’s home, when Sera appeared and stopped them.

“Adam, what is this I hear about you keeping an imp in your home?”

“Oh, (Name)? I’ve been meaning to talk to youuu,” he made meek finger guns at her.

She was unimpressed.

“Fine, she was too good for hell, and I want you to turn her into an angel.”

“She is hellborn. She has to want to become an angel to be turned,” Sera said. “And I have a feeling she doesn’t want to.” She gave Adam a pointed look.

“She will,” Adam declared.

Later that night, he brought the topic up to the imp during dinner.

“I want you to become an angel.”

(Name) stopped eating. “I like being an imp.”

“Don’t be fucking stupid, you’re the weakest breed in hell. You have a chance to live in Heaven forever. With me. Don’t you want that?”

(Name) teared up. “No, I don’t, I want to go home.”

Adam had been expecting resistance. “You’ll want it in time,” he said, standing and leaving her in the locked room. He didn’t care how long it took. He would break her down until she loved him.

Then she would stay with him.

Forever.

[fanfictionstuff]

may i request a nsfw fic with (afab) demon! reader x amaimon :3 maybe as a pt 2 to the last demon reader x amaimon fic?

I was so excited to see him today in the new episode that I kind of got carried away with this fic and extended it by over 2000 words. LMAO.

4999 words.

I love him so much. He's the new wallpaper on my mac lmao

Rin raises an eyebrow while observing you smile at your phone. Although he invited you to join him and the other exorcist students, you’ve spent the entire time grinning at your device like an idiot. “Who are you texting?” he asks.

“A friend.”

"The only friends you have are at this table," Rin says flatly.

“That’s not true!”

The pink-haired teenager sitting across from you leans in with a playful grin, saying, “I bet it’s a guy~.”

“Shut up, Shima!” You snap, kicking him under the table.

A shocked look crosses Rin’s face. “A guy? Are you really talking to a guy?” He quickly grabs the phone from your hand and holds it out of reach. “Rin! Give me back the phone.”

“No, I have to make sure he respects my sister,” he insists, trying to unlock the phone while keeping it just out of your reach.

Yukio shakes his head at his siblings’ behavior. “You need to be more respectful to our older sister." He takes the phone from Rin and hands it back to you. You receive another text as soon as the phone is back in your hands.

That sounds boring. Come play with me instead.

You bite your lower lip as you read the text. Spending time with your friends isn’t boring; however, spending time with the demon king does sound more appealing at the moment. But if you leave now, Rin will realize something is up and start stalking you or something.

Since meeting the demon king a few months ago, he’s become a staple in your life. Even if Rin swears, he was trying to kill him and almost killed Shiemi. You were there during the camping trip; you didn’t see him trying to kill Shiemi, just using her to pull Rin out, and it worked. Also, you’re aware Amaimon isn’t allowed to kill Rin. That night, both you and Rin were exposed as demons. The young exorcists surprisingly accepted you nearly right away, even while still feeling weary of Rin.

You had thought that Rin had exorcised him. Therefore, when he showed up on your sofa two weeks later, complaining that you took too long to return home, you were overwhelmed with feelings and accidentally kissed him. However, he didn’t let you pull away to apologize. Instead, he leaned in when you attempted to part, preventing you from disconnecting from his lips.

Wait at my apartment; I’ll be home in about an hour.

No.  

No?! What do you mean ‘no’?  

His silence makes you a bit anxious. You look down at your plate, noticing only a few bites remaining. You hurriedly finish, trying not to make it too obvious that you want to leave the restaurant quickly. It seems to fool everyone except Rin, and Yukio from the look he gives you as you stand, attempting to walk off. “I just remembered I have something important to complete. I’m sorry to leave a bit early.” The others nod, telling you goodbye with Shiemi, even trying to make plans for the next time you get to hang out.

Rin is on your heels as you leave the restaurant. “_____, where are you going? Why are you suddenly busy? Are you actually talking to a guy?” He grills you as he falls into step beside you. “Rin, I’ve got something I have to complete.”

“What is it.”

“It’s personal.”

“Fine, but if you have a boyfriend, you know you have to introduce us, right? I need to make sure he’s a good person.”

You pause, giving him an unimpressed look while tugging on his tail. “I don’t have to do anything, Rin.”

“Ow! That hurts!”

You pull a few more times before letting it go. "Quit making noise and return to the restaurant. Unless you want Shima to make a move on Shiemi since you’re too scared to ask her out yourself.”

Rin wraps his tail around himself protectively, narrowing his eyes at you. “Fine, but I will find out who.” he warns before walking away.

You’re walking past a small alley when someone unexpectedly grabs your wrist, yanking you into their embrace. The rich, earthy scent of nature envelops you, instantly identifying the figure behind you. As you realize it’s Amaimon, tension releases from your body, and you relax in his arms. “Amaimon, what are you doing? I told you to wait at my apartment.” His hold tightens, simmering with frustration, as he growls softly in your ear, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down your spine. “Why are you touching another demon’s tail?” Possessiveness laces his words, turning them into a hiss of jealousy, while his hand slips beneath your shirt, fingers exploring as they delicately grasp your tail, a gesture both tender and fervently protective. “Doing this in front of me, you must want me to kill your brother.”

“What are you talking about?”

Amaimon sighs, continuing to run his fingers along your tail. “Is this because you were raised by a human that you’re unaware?” He questions, continuing his actions. “Does it feel good?” The longer he touches it, the more sensitive it feels. “Y-yeah.” His lips brush against your ear as he speaks. “No other man should see or touch you like this and never touch another demon like this.” He warns, and you begin to realize demons’ tails aren’t as innocent as you initially imagined. 

"Wait, Amaimon, what do you mean by 'never touch another demon like this'?" Your voice trembles slightly as you question him; other than kisses here and there, he’s never said anything about a relationship. Sure, you want one, but you weren’t going to expect a demon king to want something serious with you. 

Amaimon leans in even closer, his warm breath tickling your skin as he murmurs, "You belong to me." His voice is low and possessive. 

“Wait, wait.” You pull away from him completely. “Belong to you? Since when?” As you speak, your tail slips back under your shirt. “We aren’t in a relationship, and you haven’t even confirmed whether or not you want to date me.” 

His golden eyes lock onto yours; the possessive expression quickly turns blank. “What?” 

“What do you mean by 'what'? You haven't even officially asked me out or anything.” Sure, you don't have much experience in relationships, but this feels more like friends who occasionally kiss. It's almost like you're friends with benefits without taking it too far, right? 

He just stands in front of you, staring for another minute before turning to walk away. 

You stare at the wall, unsure what to do—confused by his reaction. Did he think you two were in a relationship? Had you just been an idiot all this time and didn’t realize your friendship had morphed into a romantic relationship? Guess I messed that up. 

——-

Mephisto observes his brother with curiosity. Just moments ago, Amaimon had burst into his office, appearing unusually annoyed. Initially, Mephisto thought it might involve Rin. When asked, Amaimon simply shook his head, remaining tight-lipped about what was bothering him. 

“Amaimon, sit down and tell me what’s wrong. I’m a busy man, you know.” 

He doesn’t sit, but he does pause and turns to look at his older brother. “I’ve been courting her for weeks now, and she’s been receptive.” 

“What?” Mephisto’s eyes widen; this is the first he’s heard Amaimon has taken an interest in someone. Let alone the fact he’s interested enough he’s courting her. “Who have you been courting?” 

“You told me I should check online if I had questions about Assiah. It indicated that courting rituals in Assiah include having conversations, texting, giving gifts, physical affection, and taking trips together." He begins pacing again as he speaks. “I’ve done all of these things. So why did she say I haven’t been courting her?” 

“Have you been courting a human?”

“No.” 

“So, who have you been courting? I don’t know of anyone nearby for you to court besides-” Mephisto blinks, disbelief washing over his face. He hadn’t even realized that Amaimon had encountered her; he definitely hadn’t mentioned it. No, that’s absurd; she knows how Amaimon assaulted Rin and even threatened her other friends. It can’t be true. “Are you pursuing Rin’s older sister?” 

“Yes.” 

Mephisto rubs his forehead in frustration. However, _____ would never choose to be with someone who harmed her cherished younger brother. Didn't Amaimon disclose his true identity? "I'll call her," Mephisto resolves, aiming to resolve the situation before Amaimon causes any harm. It's better to address this issue promptly now. 

“No. She’s mine.” 

Mephisto's brow twitches as he speaks. "I can assure you, I have no interest in her. I am going to call her for you." 

“No.” 

"Fine," Mephisto concedes, raising his hands in surrender. "Just ask her if she realizes you're trying to court her. Sometimes, humans can be oblivious, so it might require a straightforward approach." Amaimon begins to protest, but Mephisto interrupts him. "I understand she's not human, but she was raised by one. If her response disappoints you, you will NOT harm her.” Mephisto’s voice adopts a menacing tone as he stresses the last point sentence.

A shiver runs down Amaimon’s spine at the threat. “Okay, bye.”

Mephisto exhales, bracing himself for the tantrum he knows will come from his younger brother when he returns tonight. It feels like there's always some absurd drama with his siblings. 

——-

It’s nearly one in the morning, and you’re lying in bed, scrolling through your phone when the bedroom door opens. You jolt, startled for a moment, but you relax upon noticing the spike on the dark figure’s head. “Amaimon? What are you doing here?” He never randomly shows up at this hour. Instead of answering, he walks quietly around to your side. As your eyes adjust, you see him more clearly. He’s dressed differently than usual—or, rather, he’s wearing less than you’re accustomed to. You’ve seen him without the jacket but never without the vest or arm warmers. Now, he stands before you, wearing only the button-up t-shirt and unusual pants. “Are you okay?”

The more you stare at him, you notice that his shirt’s first couple of buttons have been undone. Was he in the middle of undressing when he decided to visit me? Staring at you blankly with a disinterested tone, he states. “You’re mine.”

He climbs over you on the bed. “Big Brother said you probably didn’t notice I was courting you. I don’t care. You’re still mine.”

“Wait, courting? Courting? As in for a future marriage? Engagement type of courting?” You attempt to push him back like you had in the alley, but this time, it’s like pushing against a stone wall; he won’t budge.

Amaimon gazes down at you, his expression unreadable as he pins you to the bed with his weight. His golden eyes lock onto yours, filled with a possessive intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. "I have courted you in the ways of Assiah," he murmurs, his voice low and commanding. "You accepted my gifts, my gestures of affection. You are mine.”

Amaimon's long, dark claws brush gently against your jaw, sharply contrasting with the strength he's using to hold you in place. 

"Hold on a moment. Just how long have you been courting me? You’re a demon king; what would interest you in courting me?” 

“You’ve proven you’ll be a good mate for me, and I’ve proven I’ll be a good mate for you.”

You try to think back to when you’ve ever made Amaimon believe you’d be a good mate. You don’t even know anything about demons regarding the way they mate. I’m an awful demon; I don’t even know these important details. You frown to yourself, ashamed you don’t know these things. “Tell me how I’ve proven it.” 

Amaimon’s blank stare feels like it’s penetrating you. “You chose me.”

“Huh?”

“You chose me over your brothers, over humans.”

When did I choose him over Rin and Yukio? Your eyes widen as you wrack your brain, trying to think of a time that would make Amaimon believe you’ve chosen him over them. But nothing comes to mind. “I did? When?”

“Often, even tonight.”

Your eyes widen at his words. He’s right. Multiple times, you’ve brushed Rin off because Amaimon wanted your attention. You’ve left early because Amaimon told you he wants to spend time with you. You’ve been choosing him over your brothers.

Amaimon's grip on you tightens as he leans closer, his breath warm against your skin. "You've always chosen me, even when you didn't realize it," he murmurs, his tone possessive yet strangely gentle. He leans down, pressing his warm lips against yours. “I wasn’t going to say anything about it tonight, but then I saw you and Rin when you were walking home.” One of his hands slips under the long t-shirt you use as pajamas to grasp your tail. Starting at the base of your tail, he runs his claw along to the fluffy tip. Then he gently tugs, causing you to gasp. “Do you still think touching your brother like this is appropriate?” As a jolt of pleasure runs throughout your body, you quickly shake your head. “I didn’t know.” You admit moaning at the sensation. “I won’t do it again.”  

As he gently runs his fingers along your tail, you feel something wrapping around your wrist; you glance to the side and notice it’s his tail. “Wait, stop.” You push against him softly. “I’ve never seen your tail like this.” You mutter, sitting up to touch it. It feels just like yours and Rin’s, but the color matches his hair. Dark green, with a fluffy tip being a slightly light green. “I didn’t know your tail looked like this.” You had seen his tail before when he changed into his demon form. It was thick and looked like a reptile tail. While you hadn’t really put much thought into his tail in this form, you assumed it would’ve been like what you saw that night, just thinner. You run your claws gently over it, observing the color closely and the fact it’s the same as yours and Rin’s. So, do all demons in a humanlike body or vessel have tails like this? With your focus only on his tail, you don’t notice what it’s doing to him. When he lets out a low groan, you turn your attention back to the rest of him. He stares at you with lidded eyes. “Oh! I’m sorry.” You hold your hands up. “I was just curious; I wasn’t thinking.”

Amaimon lifts his hands to his shirt, slowly unbuttoning it. While he’s lean, he’s a lot more muscular than you had imagined he’d be. You can’t pull your eyes from the lean muscles on his torso. Amaimon shrugs off the shirt and watches you eyeing his body. “You’re attracted to this vessel? Good.”

Vessel? That’s right, this isn’t his real body. Him and Mephisto need vessels to live in Assiah. Is his true body what I saw the night Rin last control, or does he have another body? Your thoughts come to a standstill when you notice Amaimon taking off his pants. As he pulls off the pants, he removes his underwear, too. Embarrassed, you cover your face. “Why are you covering your face?” Amaimon questions apathetically.

“Sorry, I’ve never seen a guy like this.” You whisper awkwardly.

A hint of confusion flashes in Amaimon’s eyes. “What do you mean?”

“Of course, this is a time you can’t read between the lines.” You complain, embarrassed you’ll have to say it aloud. You uncover your face but keep your eyes above his waist. “Amaimon, I’ve never been intimate with someone before.”

“You’re a virgin?” He sounds slightly shocked.

“Why are you so surprised? I grew up in a church my entire life, and besides, how could I explain this to a human boy?” you ask, raising your tail.

Amaimon pushes you back down against the bed. Slipping his hands under your shirt to rest on your waist. “Because you’re a virgin, I’ll be gentle this time.” He promises, pulling the shirt over your head. 

  As he positions himself over you, a warm hardness presses against your upper thigh, and you can feel his breath on your skin. Your wrists are gently taken hold of and secured above your head as he kisses you passionately, his tail entwining with yours. His lips trail down to your neck, nibbling and kissing before returning to your mouth. His tongue slips between your parted lips, exploring every corner with passion.

Your body responds eagerly to his touch, lifting your hips and accidentally brushing against his throbbing member. He groans loudly, and the kiss becomes more frantic, his hands roaming over your skin with a feverish need. You catch his lower lip between your teeth, sucking on it gently before Amaimon breaks away from the kiss.

His hands slowly trail down your body, leaving a trail of heat. Softly caressing your breasts, his lips follow in their path, leaving hot kisses and nibbles along the way and finally reaching the waistband of your underwear.

Amaimon’s fingers grip the waistband of your underwear as he pauses and gazes at you in silence. Realizing he is waiting for your consent, you lean closer and press your lips to his. “I never imagined you’d be so considerate.” You whisper against his lips. He pulls the fabric down your legs slowly. "Oh, were you imagining this?" he asks. "What were you imagining I would be like, _____? Should I make your fantasy come true?"

As he speaks, his razor-sharp claws lightly tap against your thighs. "I never imagined those claws," you remark with a pointed stare. Your own claws are nowhere near that long as his look longer and sharper than you remember. Amaimon just rolls his eyes and brings his index finger up to his mouth. "It wouldn't hurt that much. You're a demon." Despite his nonchalant words, he bites down on his claw, shortening it, followed by the ones on his middle, thumb, and ring finger. You blink in surprise; you hadn’t expected him to shorten them like that. “Why do you look so surprised?”

“I-I guess I never imagined you’d be so considerate.” You admit, reaching for his hand, running your fingers over his fingertips. The claws he removed are now dull at his fingertips. You know they’ll grow back quickly; by tomorrow morning, they’ll return to the original length. But still, just knowing he cares enough about your comfort to do that. “I was just thinking you would be cautious with them. Not remove them.” You admit. 

Amaimon presses you onto the bed and gently runs his hands over your bent legs. He then delicately spreads them apart, his gaze fixated on your core. “It’s better not to have them when I touch you like this.” He remarks as he traces his index finger along your slit. “Oh, you’re already wet,” he comments, lifting his finger to examine it before putting it in his mouth. “You taste good.”

“Seriously? Don’t just casually comment like that.” You whine, attempting to close your legs, but the demon king doesn’t allow it. 

“Okay, I’ll just eat you out.”

“Amaimon!” 

“That’s the term, right? Wait, let me think. I know some other terms. Mouth-to-genital contact, performing oral sex, cunnilingus...what else is there?” 

“Amaimon! Nobody says mouth-to-genital contact!” 

He smirks. "What do you want me to call it?"

You roll your eyes at him. "Just do it already." 

Amaimon chuckles and then proceeds to lower his head towards your core. You can feel the warmth of his breath against your skin before his tongue flicks out, gently tasting you. It's an odd sensation you’ve never felt, and you feel a strange mix of pleasure and embarrassment. Slowly, he runs his tongue along you; when he reaches your clit, he lifts his hand, pulling back the hood, then runs his tongue along it. The jolt of pleasure that rushes through you is breathtaking; you jump, pushing his head away. “I-I.” You attempt an apology, but the sensation of what he did is still running through your body. You’ve never felt something that intense before. Amaimon wraps his arms around your left leg, placing his head against your knee as he watches you regain your bearings. 

“If a simple touch has that much of an effect on you, I can’t wait to see how you'll react when you have an orgasm,” he says unabashedly. “Don’t pull away this time, okay?” 

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting it to feel like that.” You huff at the smug look Amaimon gives you. 

Amaimon lowers his head to resume his actions; this time, you prepare yourself the best you can for the feeling of intense pleasure. He wraps his arms around your thighs, ensuring you won’t be able to escape his mouth, then focuses on your clit once more, using his tongue to make small circles. Your short claws dig into the mattress as you moan his name. He gives you a moment to breathe, turning his attention away from the muscle, but it’s only a short moment because his tongue starts prodding at your entrance. “Oh!” His grip on you tightens when you lift your hips at the new feeling. Another pleasure you’ve never felt, and his tongue is long. Pushing into you farther than any human man ever could. The feeling of something moving like that inside you causes your legs to tremble. Slowly, he removes his tongue, and you quickly realize why he removed the claws. It wasn’t just to make sure he didn’t accidentally cut you while touching you like you had been imagining. He slips one finger in carefully, glancing up at you as he does. “Does it feel okay?” He questions, expressionless, his apathetic tone not matching his actions of pumping his finger in and out of you. You nod. “I’ll add another then.” Carefully, he inserts two, keeping eye contact the whole time. 

It's an unusual sensation, neither painful nor pleasurable, with him not moving his fingers inside you. Just different. He keeps his fingers still, allowing you to adjust and become more comfortable. Amaimon observes your reactions closely before slowly moving his fingers in and out. The odd feeling begins to turn into pleasure. When he notices you’re starting to enjoy it, he presses his thumb against your clit in small circular motions intensifying the feeling. 

As his fingers curl inside you, your back arches off the bed, and a tightness forms in your abdomen. Just as you're about to reach something, he abruptly stops and removes his fingers. "Were you close to an orgasm? Oh, my bad." He gives a fake apology. "But I want you to cum in my mouth." 

He smirks as you hide your face in shame momentarily before leaning back down, using his tongue to stimulate your clit while simultaneously curling his fingers inside of you. With his left hand placed firmly on your hip, he presses you down onto the bed as he continues his actions. As the knot forms again in the pit of your stomach, you reach down and grip a handful of his hair, tugging at it in desperation. A low growl escapes his lips, the vibrations adding to your pleasure. You wrap your legs firmly around his shoulders, using them for leverage as you grind against his face, seeking the release that has been building up inside of you.

“Amaimon.” You whine his name, needing something. He contemplates pulling away for a moment to tease you. But your claws are digging into his scalp, and you’re begging him so sweetly. He curls his fingers while sucking on your clit, driving you to your climax.

You moan, vision blurring while your body shakes with pleasure. Amaimon continues his actions even when your body relaxes against the bed. Lifting your head, you glance down at him and feel your face start to burn as you realize he’s focused on consuming every drop of your release. “Stop it.” You complain, trying to push him away. 

“No, I told you I wanted you to cum in my mouth for a reason.” He complains, slapping your hands away. A few seconds later, he pulls away and raises a brow at how embarrassed you look. 

“Are you ready?” He questions. 

“For what?” 

“What do you mean for what? Sex? Sexual intercourse? Love making? Penis in vagina penetration?” 

Groaning, you drop onto the bed, “Why do you have to say it like that, Amaimon? Yes. Do you have a condom?” You glance at him; his eyes are wide. “Guess you’re the one unprepared.” 

“You don’t have any?” 

“I’m a virgin. I haven’t needed condoms before.” 

His eyes are focused on a random wall, and you just know he’s trying to think of the best place to get condoms. “Have you ever slept with someone in that body?” You question, knowing he hasn’t been in the human vessel that long. He shakes his head without looking at you. 

“If your body is healthy…I’m on birth control…” 

Almost instantly, he’s back over you, staring into your eyes. “So, are you ready for sexual intercourse?” 

“Amaimon, if you say it like that again, I will kill you.”

He smirks, lifting your left leg on his hip. “It’s not nice to threaten your mate.” He doesn’t give you time to respond to his words; slowly, he pushes the head of his member against your entrance. “Good, you’re still wet enough.” He says nonchalantly as he pulls back slightly to run his member along your folds, making sure to apply some lubrication. He then pushes in, slowly at first, allowing you to adjust to the feeling of him inside you. It feels different than his fingers, and it takes a moment for you to feel comfortable. Amaimon gives you some time before slowly increasing his movements, sliding in and out of your tight entrance. 

“Are you okay?” He whispers, watching you carefully, looking for any signs of discomfort. 

It's a fascinating feeling; you've never felt anything like this before, you feel yourself clenching around him. Your heart beats rapidly, and every time he thrusts into you, it sends shudders down your spine. 

"I'm okay." You manage to say between gasping breaths. "Just different."

Amaimon smirks down at you, his eyes glinting with a playful light. "Different is good, right?" He says teasingly before leaning down and capturing your lips in a deep kiss, muffling your gasps and sighs while he continues to thrust into you at a gentle pace.

You respond to his kiss, your hands wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer as you deepen the kiss. His movements becoming slightly faster now. You whimper into his mouth as he hits a specific spot inside of you that sends shivers down your entire body. 

Amaimon pulls away from the kiss, his eyes locked on yours, "Are you okay?" He breathes out the words, each one a pant against your moistened lips. 

"Yes," you manage to get out, your voice strained with need. 

He nods and abruptly increases his pace. His thrusts are forceful yet controlled, each one sending waves of intense pleasure through your body. Your hands grip onto his shoulders, claws digging into his skin as he continues to move within you. 

You call out Amaimon's name as he reaches between the two of you, his thumb focusing on your clit once again. Your body arches off the bed, eyes wide with pleasure and shock at the intensity of what you're feeling. Amaimon's thrusts are relentless but controlled, leaving you breathless. 

You whimper his name again, your voice barely audible over the sounds of your breath and the slick noises. Amaimon's thumb continues its steady rhythm against you, his gaze locked onto yours as he watches your reactions to each thrust. 

In the dimly lit room, his golden eyes seem to glow as he growls through gritted teeth and thrusts into you with increasingly sloppy movements. 

"Amaimon," you cry out, your voice hoarse with desire, "I'm-” Your muscles clench around him, milking him as your orgasm washes over you. Amaimon groans, dropping his head to the crook of your throat and biting down. 

You gasp, wrapping your legs around his waist, bringing him closer as he continues to move within you. Your orgasm has yet to subside, still pulsing within you with each thrust. Grabbing his hair, you tug his head up to lock eyes with Amaimon's golden ones, watching them darken with desire.

“Amaimon," you plead, your voice barely a whisper as his hips slam against yours.

Amaimon emits a low, rumbling growl, his eyes momentarily glowing red before reverting to their usual golden color. His movements become erratic, almost violent until he releases into you. 

He falls on you, breathing heavily, his face nestled in the curve of your neck. "You feel good," he whispers against your skin, then tracing his tongue over the mark he left. 

“You bit me.” 

“I know.”

“It hurt.” 

“Sorry.” 

“No, you’re not.” 

——-

“WHAT DID YOU DO WITH MY SISTER!?”

You sit up in bed, groaning. Your younger brother's screams and threats pierce the air. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you look around the room and then down at yourself. Why am I naked? You slowly blink, glancing at your body.

“WHERE IS SHE YOU BASTARD!?”

Even though you’re barely awake, Rin is already causing you a headache. Hearing a response brings it all back. "You mean my mate? She’s still sleeping.” Amaimon! Luckily, a robe is hanging by the door. You hastily put it on and fasten it before entering the living room. “Rin? What are you doing here?”

Rin stands at the doorway, sword drawn, facing a shirtless Amaimon. “What is he doing here?” Rin questions, pointing the sword at Amaimon.

“Oh, uh.” You rub the back of your neck awkwardly. “He’s my…boyfriend.”

“Mate.”

“Amaimon, shut up.”

[celestiall0tus]

Adamsapple Angst Week - Day 4 Masking Emotions/Miscommunication/Pride - Eden

Day 1 || Day 2 || Day 3 || Day 4 || Day 5 || Day 6 || Day 7

            Adam headed up to his room with Lightning with him. He grumbled after a long day of cleaning with Niffty watching his every move. He grabbed the doorknob when his name was called. He groaned and turned as Viola, one of his former Exorcist Captains, ran up to him. Not far behind Viola was Myrtha, another of his former Captains.

            “There you are! Guess what! We’re having a fun night down in the bar for all the hotel guests. You’ll join us, won’t you?” Violas asked.

            “Oh, wow, that sounds like so much fucking fun!” Adam mocked.

            Viola gritted her teeth and forced her smile to remain. “Really?”

            “Absolutely fucking not. Why would I want to spend any time with a bunch of people that hate me?”

            “Lucifer doesn’t hate you,” Lightning remarked.

            Adam snarled as he fought against the warmth the remark made him feel. “And? That doesn’t change anything!”

            “Then wouldn’t this be the perfect opportunity to make nice with others?” Viola suggested.

            “No,” Adam said.

            “Give it up, mi Cielito. We’re just wasting time he doesn’t deserve,” Myrtha hissed.

            “Now, Myrtha, I understand, but this is for all the guests. Adam is one of those guests. So, we have to invite him too. Like we did with everyone else.”

            Myrtha rolled her eyes.

            “So, what do you say?” Viola asked Adam.

            “Still no,” Adam answered.

            “Never figured you one to pass up on the soda at the bar,” Lightning commented.

            Adam’s eyes widened as he reconsidered. “Maybe a drink or two.”

            Viola squealed and took Adam’s hand. Adam flinched when Myrtha gave him the death stare.

            “Let’s go! We’re going to have so much fun!” Viola cheered.

            Adam yelped as Viola dragged him away to the bar. He shrunk back as he felt Myrtha’s eyes burn a hole right through him. He weaseled out of Viola’s hold once they reached the bar and put distance between them. Viola was sweet, but Myrtha was not. He took a seat at the bar as far from Viola and Myrtha as possible.

            “Look who it is. Didn’t think you’d show up,” Husk commented.

            “Cut the shit and just get me my usual. I don’t plan on being here too long,” Adam muttered.

            Husk grunted as he got Adam his usual drink.

            “And what about you?” Husk asked Lightning.

            Adam looked back at Lightning as he took a sip.

            “The answer hasn’t changed, and it won’t,” Lightning remarked.

            Husk shrugged and moved over to Angel Dust and Cherri Bomb. Adam’s eyes darted around from Angel and Cherri to Viola and Myrtha with Vaggie and Charlie. Angel and Cherri laughed and teased each other. Myrtha and Viola prepared a stage while Charlie talked Vaggie’s ear off. Adam sighed and continued to drink when he heard Niffty.

            “And this is the bad boy. Say ‘hi,’ bad boy,” Niffty said.

            Adam glanced back to see Niffty dragging Baxter around by the collar. He locked eyes with Baxter before he flipped the pair off.

            “Ah, yes, Adam, the first man, am I correct? What a fall from grace you must have suffered. Such a pity to be ripped from your perch, isn’t it?” Baxter mocked.

            Adam grumbled.

            Lightning stepped up and loomed over Niffty and Baxter. “Remove the sassy fish creature before I punt it.”

            Baxter snorted. “Please. You wouldn’t do that. I’m a guest here.”

            Lightning reared back her leg and kicked Baxter across the room into the wall. Niffty giggled and jumped up and down.

            “My turn. My turn. Me next!” Niffty exclaimed.

            Lightning shrugged and kicked Niffty like she did Baxter. Niffty splatted on the wall and fell on the stage with Viola and Myrtha.

            “Yay! Pain!” Niffty cheered.

            Adam watched in horror as Niffty jumped up and ran back over to Lightning.

            “Again!” Niffty demanded.

            “Little freak,” Adam muttered as Lightning kicked Niffty again.

            “She is, but this is fun,” Lightning commented.

            Adam finished his drink as Niffty ran back up to Lightning, demanding to be kicked again.

            “Well, hate to cut this short, but-,” Adam started.

            “He’ll have two more drinks, Husk!” Lightning called as she kicked Niffty again.

            “Coming right up!” Husk yelled.

            “What the fuck, bitch?” Adam demanded.

            Lightning ignored him as she picked up Niffty by the scruff. She stomped her foot once and Rain materialized.

            “Go long, Rain!” Lightning called.

            Rain flew up as Lightning tossed Niffty up. Rain kicked Niffty higher in the air as Lightning darted up and kicked Niffty down to Rain. Everyone stopped and watched the pair zoom around as they used Niffty as a sports ball.

            “Uh, should we stop them?” Angel Dust asked Husk.

            “Niff’s fine. I guarantee she’s having the time of her life right now,” Husk remarked.

            “Eh, Charlie sure ain’t,” Angel muttered.

            Adam glanced over to see Charlie trying to reason with Lightning and Rain but was ignored. He snorted in amusement when another drink was placed in front of him. He sighed and drank as he zoned out.

            “H-hey there, Adam!” Lucifer exclaimed.

            Adam jumped but caught himself. He held down the soda he just took a big gulp of, not wanting to be chased by Niffty. He took a deep breath before he glared at Lucifer, who sat next to him.

            “Can’t a man fucking drink in peace?”

            “You can, but I’ve heard drinking is better with company. So, care for some company?” Lucifer offered.

            Adam sighed. “Knock yourself out.”

            “Why thank you. But, uh, there is something I wanted to hopefully talk to you about. If you have the time, of course.”

            “And what would that be?”

            “Well, I know I said a lot of things were complicated, but I may have reached a slight breakthrough,” Lucifer started.

            Adam hummed and tuned out Lucifer’s ramblings. He watched Lightning and Rain toss Niffty around before Lightning threw Niffty into the ground. Lightning and Rain took each other’s hands as they spun around and Charlie secured Niffty. He looked down at Viola and Myrtha as Viola copied Lightning and Rain’s interaction with Myrtha. He smiled when a pang of guilt and pain hit him.

            Adam knew they were down here because of his actions. Because of his assault on the hotel that led to his death, everything was wrong. Lute didn’t know he was alive and had to be hurting. He knew she cared the most about him and knew his death would have impacted her the most. It didn’t make knowing this any easier that Lute would throw down Viola for speaking against violence and opting for peace. And with Viola down here, Myrtha was bound to follow. Viola was Myrtha’s pride and joy, her life, her precious daughter, her everything. And because of him, they were cast out for the wrong reasons.

            Adam watched Myrtha shower Viola with love and affection as his mind wandered to Abel. He wondered what would have become of Abel for the first time in what felt like ages. He never had to worry about Abel because he was always with St. Peter and Emily being cinnamon rolls in Heaven. He was never in any danger, but what now? Myrtha announced that Abel took over command of the army, but was that wise? Abel matured in Heaven, but he had still died young. Could he handle commanding an army? Could he handle the blood? Could he manage to even kill? The only way he’d ever find out is with Extermination Day when they came for all sinners, that included him now.

            “Adam! Hey, Adam!” Lucifer called.

            Adam snapped out of his thoughts and shook off the unease and regret that nagged him. “Sorry, drifted off. What were you saying?”

            Lucifer looked taken aback. “Did you… did you not hear anything of what I said?”

            “No. Was I supposed to?” Adam asked as he took a sip of soda.

            Lucifer’s face fell for a moment before he forced a garish grin. “Oh, no. Not at all. Just the ramblings of a silly man. I thought I’d give this whole conversation thing a try. I mean, you like having me around to listen to you, right?”

            Adam raised a brow. “Are you alright? You seem… I dunno, something.”

            “Oh, yeah, perfect! The night’s just beginning after all. Let’s, uh, tear shit up, right? Barkeep! Another round! Er, make it five rounds!” Lucifer called.

            Adam glanced over at the other patrons at the bar. Husk shot Adam a disgusted look before he served Lucifer a set of five shots. Angel Dust stared at Adam with his mouth agape and eyes wide. Cherri glared at Adam as she seethed and flipped him off. He rolled his eyes as he briefly glanced at Lucifer throw back the shots before he glanced up at Lightning and Rain. He straightened when he saw Thunder with them. Lightning gave orders shortly before Thunder and Rain vanished. He watched Lightning compose herself before she rejoined him.

            “So, uh, the fuck was that about?” Adam asked.

            “Nothing,” Lightning answered.

            “Bullshit. What happened?”

            Lightning didn’t answer. Adam opened his mouth to ask again when he saw a woman shuffle into the bar dressed in an Exorcist uniform. His eyes widened when he saw Sera’s silver hair loose over the woman’s shoulder, a lighter shade of Sera’s cedar-brown skin and blue-gray sclarea, and her eyes lidded that showed off the same color as Sera’s eyelids. She shambled in and left a trail of golden, angelic blood behind her where her wings once were.

            “Lyre!” Myrtha cried.

            Adam turned as Myrtha bolted from the stage and took Lyre into her arms. Lyre collapsed into Myrtha’s arms willingly as she rested her head on Myrtha’s shoulder. Everyone crowded around Lyre except for Lucifer, Adam, and Lightning.

            “That’s what that was about, wasn’t it? Thunder saw Lyre be thrown down,” Adam stated.

            “Not thrown down,” Lightning said.

            “What?” Lucifer and Adam asked.

            “Lyre walked out of a portal alone, with no one behind her. She wasn’t thrown down. She chose to abandon Heaven.”

            “What? Why the fuck would she do that?” Adam asked.

            “What other reason? Her daughter, and her heart, had been thrown down here. And unlike you, she can make that choice. Just as we all did. Because paradise isn’t paradise without the ones you love. You might as well be in Hell at that point.”

            “Uh, Adam, why does that Exorcist look a lot like Sera?” Lucifer asked.

            Adam glanced over and saw the terror in Lucifer’s eyes. “Uh, well, uh-.”

            “Three captains were made, one to look like each Seraph. Lyre and Myrtha were the first two, designed after Sera and the fallen Seraph. Viola came later and was modeled after the Seraph of Joy, Emily,” Lightning answered.

            “Uh, yeah, that,” Adam confirmed.

            Lucifer’s face fell as panic set in before he forced a smile and laugh to match that panic. “Oh. Oh! Isn’t that wonderful. Well, I’m just going to.”

            Adam watched Lucifer clamor over the bar top and grabbed a pair of bottles.

            “If anyone needs me, I shall be in my tower, definitely not hiding!” Lucifer announced before he disappeared.

            “Why was Lucifer acting stranger than usual?” Lightning asked.

            “Who fucking knows. Let’s just get the fuck out of here,” Adam remarked.

            Lightning nodded and escorted Adam away.

[deadgirlwalking91]

can i come up with a scenario idea?

Let’s say that Lute is at work, (Adam is late) and out of nowhere a girl approaches her, asking for Adam so she can talk with him.

Lute knows Adam fucked the chick, and as the jealous girl she is, Lute first stares at her, then she kicks her ass out of her office.

and ofc in that moment Adam shows up and starts teasing her about it

Hey, Anon,

I hope this is what you had in mind <3

As per usual, Adam was late to work.

It shouldn’t have come as a surprise to Lute - in fact, his tardiness never did. Yet whenever she arrived at work just before nine o’clock, her heart always sank at the sight of his unoccupied desk.

For once, just once, she wanted to walk into their shared office and be greeted by his irritating yet charming smirk and those beautiful, piercing golden eyes. Hell, she’d even settle for a, ‘sup, bitch!’ if it meant he looked at her like she was the only person that mattered - even if only for a fleeting moment.

Perhaps someday that would happen. For now, she’d settle for the lopsided grin that he tossed her whenever he crashed through the door, balancing some gimmicky, sugar-laden drink and a pastry to wolf down before they headed to the training centre.

Once, he’d bought a chocolate eclair for breakfast, and Lute felt it prudent to gently remind him that desserts were not a breakfast-appropriate food. He’d grumbled, and for the next week he’d surprised her by bringing in yoghurt, fruit and muesli. Then, his favourite cafe decided to run a special on almond croissants, and that was the end of his healthy breakfast era.

She slid her bag off her shoulder and placed it in the bottom drawer of her desk. There was no point in getting upset dwelling on what might never eventuate. Sighing, she turned her computer on and began reviewing the to-do list she’d made yesterday afternoon.

A gentle, polite knock at the door tore her attention away from her work. “Come in,” she called begrudgingly, trying to guess which Exorcist was coming to bother her with their minor inconvenience.

Possibly Peaches, trying to sell another misguided Extermination Day battle plan. Bless her enthusiasm, but the girl had simply no idea. Or maybe Cinnamon, hoping for more one-on-one coaching. Lute didn’t mind this as much - shel was only newly created for battle, so she needed a little extra help, but she was determined and had a good head on her shoulders. Promising. Heaving for-fucking-bid it was Coco and Candy, hoping Lute would settle another one of their inane arguments. She eyed Adam’s liquor cabinet, wondering if he’d notice if she’d take a pre-emptive nip of one of his expensive whiskeys.

She decided against it - after all, if dessert wasn’t a breakfast food then neither was alcohol.

To Lute’s surprise, the woman who entered wasn’t any of the Exorcists that she had predicted - nor was she an Exorcist at all. No, this woman was a Winner. Tall and slim, with long, silvery-blonde hair, she practically glided into the room.

She made Lute want to vomit with how perfect she was.

“Can I help you?” she asked icily, lacing her fingers together on the desktop.

“Oh! Hi. Um,” the woman glanced around the small office, frowning. “I… was wondering if Adam was here, please?”

Ah. There it was. That awful, familiar feeling of a knife being twisted into Lute’s chest. It occurred whenever a gorgeous woman came floating into their shared space, asking for Adam. Which usually meant one thing - they were a recent conquest, and he’d ghosted them, or hadn’t indicated that he wanted to see them again.

“Clearly,” Lute said dryly, raising a hand to gesture carelessly around their office, “he’s not here.”

“Well, I kind of need to talk to him,” the woman said, pursing her lips. “We’re… old friends, and haven’t spoken in ages. Could you maybe leave him a message to give me a call as soon as he can.”

Lute stared blankly at her. “Do I look like his fucking secretary?” she snarled, her wings flaring slightly behind her. “Why don’t you tell him yourself?”

The woman had the audacity to look perplexed. “Are–aren’t you his secretary?” she whispered, frowning. “I mean, you have the mean haircut, and you’re kind of unfriendly, so it would make sense if you were–”

“Get the fuck out of my office!” Lute shouted, feeling her face turn gold with fury. If only this bitch knew what her sword could do. Sure, she was pretty, but she’d look even prettier with her head lopped off and mounted on the office wall, like a hunting prize.

“Lute, calm your tits,” a familiar drawl sounded from the doorway. “I got this.”

Adam was leaning against the door frame, the yellow features of his mask twisted into an amused grin. He held a cardboard tray with two coffees in one hand, and a paper bag in the other.

Probably he had a late night the evening before and needed extra caffeine to start the day. He walked over to his desk and sat the bag and tray down before turning his attention to the mystery woman.

“Let’s chat outside, babe. I can’t believe you tracked me down at work!”

“Well, I texted you but–”

“Look gorgeous, I’m a very busy man. I can’t read and respond to every text that everyone sends me!”

He put an arm around the woman’s shoulders and guided her towards the office door - but before he did, he glanced over his shoulder and gave Lute an eye roll.

She responded with a one-finger salute before turning her attention back to her work, muttering under her breath about how she’d rather deal with dumbass Exorcists than Adam’s revolving door of women.

He re-entered the room moments later, a shit-eating grin plastered across his face.

“What?” Lute scowled. 

“She called you my attack dog,” he said, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter. “Said that you were mean to her.”

“I wasn’t mean, she was stupid,” Lute argued defensively. “Maybe she shouldn’t have been a giant twat. Where’d you find this one?”

He shrugged, taking the coffees out of the tray. “Some bar, months ago. I don’t even remember her fucking name.”

“You’re a dog, sir.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were jealous, Lute.”

“Oh, fuck off,” she muttered. She bent down to pretend to rummage in her drawer for something so he wouldn’t see her blush. “I have to deal with this bullshit all the time. You know I don’t get jealous.”

“Yeah,” he shrugged, walking around to perch on the edge of her desk. He handed her a cup. “I dunno about that, Dangertits. Anyway, I got you a coffee. Black, like your soul.”

“Gee, thanks,” she said sarcastically. Still, she accepted the drink and wrapped her hands around it, savouring its warmth. “How kind. What are you doing, practising your moves on me?”

Perhaps it was a trick of the light, but she could have sworn she caught a glimmer of something in his eye.

“Yeah,” he mused, lifting his own cup to his lips. “Something like that.”

[devastatedloyallute]

Waiting On A Miracle -A Guitarspear fic, sequel to BTTWS Chapter 3

Summary: Adam believes he has a plan to give Lute the thing she wants, but can he pull it off? _____________

Read on [AO3] 💕 or under the cut! _____________

In the week after, that little taste of Hell followed Lute home in the form of her period. As periods were uncommon in Heaven, with only the exorcists being ones to get them when they arrived back from Hell, menstruation products were few and far between. Lute had brought this issue up to the Seraphim ages ago and requested these items to be available for their army of women, but they were still limited in quantity.

Lute laid on her side across the couch, debilitated by cramps. She had her arms clung to her stomach and felt that if she moved even an inch her whole body would tear apart. With a sharp inhale, she attempted to crack a joke, “You know, no matter how many times I go through this, ripping my arm off still hurt about a hundred times less.”

Abel nuzzled himself into the bend of her body and wrapped his arms around her, “Can I do anything, mama?”

“You’re already doing it,” she said with a slight wince from the movement. She pulled him close, finding his warmth comforting.

Adam pulled his robe on over his head and attempted to neaten out his messy hair, “So I guess I gotta go meet with Sera over something, you want me to bring you back anything while I’m out?”

“I think I’m alright, but surprise me if you want,” Lute said, muffled by Abel’s fluffy hair in her face.

“What about you, squirt?” Abel shook his head, content just to stay with Lute as her personal heating pad. “Alrighty, I’ll be back before you know it,” he kissed Lute’s head before he left.

Adam didn’t actually have a meeting with Sera today, he just needed to go for air and get his thoughts in order. It was him who was the reason they weren’t conceiving. How could that even be possible? Wasn’t that one of the big reasons he was created? To populate? And now he can’t even do that. Adam aggressively shook the thoughts from his head, but…Isn’t there something he can do?

As he walked through the promenade, he was catching the attention of passersby. Some stared with awe, others in confusion. He was convinced it was due to him forgoing his exorcist mask, but maybe it was because people were curious as to where he had been those six months he had spent in Hell as a sinner. And the last few months he’d spent mainly at home with Lute and Abel. Some even approached him cautiously, asking if it was really him. They hadn’t been told of his passing, nor of his return. It was treated as though it never happened. As if he just vanished for a while, which Adam was pleasantly content with.

He found himself outside of the hospital, gazing up at the tall building. His mind raced with thoughts, ‘I know Lute said not to but…what she doesn’t know won't hurt, right? I could just go in there, get those fertility pills. What are they gonna do? Say no?’

“No, we cannot give those to you,” said the pharmacist sternly, for the fourth time. “Listen, I don’t care who or what you are, you are not authorized to be prescribed this medication.”

Adam, growing impatient, dug his nails into the desk, “Why the hell not?! I’m literally the first man!” His wings puffed out making himself appear larger. Before this he had asked as politely as he knew how, and yet they still refused him. “If my gorgeous fucking angel of a wife want to have my fucking baby, she’s going to have my motherfucking baby!”

“Sir, if you do not leave, I will have you escorted off the premises.”

“Do it! Fucking try me, I will fucking rip you apart!” 

Adam was then promptly kicked out of the building for causing a scene and threatening harm to its staff. He wasn’t going to actually hurt anyone, just all big talk in hopes to get his way. That used to always work. He plopped himself onto a set of nearby stairs, resting his chin on his hand, to pout and ponder his next move. 

‘That didn’t work. But it’s not like I was doing it for selfish reasons. It’s for Lute so…bad for a good cause, right? Ugh…They’ll only give em to specific people, huh? Who do I know who would go along with thi– EMILY!’ Adam sprung to his feet, ‘Yeah! She’s a seraphim, so they’d have to do like she asks!’

He broke out into an almost sprint to find her before realizing, ‘Wait- Emily can’t keep a secret to save her life. Or, well…She did go behind Lute’s back and bring Abel to the hotel without her knowing. Maybe she can.’

Adam casually sauntered into the main lobby of the Seraphim’s office building, trying to act as if he wasn’t so worked up just moments ago. Emily was chatting with someone, but other than that she was alone. When her conversation was over Adam quietly waved her over, “Em, c’mere sec.”

“Uncle Adam! Hi!” the younger seraphim squealed as she hovered over to him. “What brings you here?”

Adam put his arm over her head and pulled her in to whisper at her, “I need you to do something for me.”

“Oh! Sure, whatcha need?” Emily asked in a hushed, sneaky manner. 

“You can keep a secret, right?”

Emily nodded with determination, “It’ll be really hard, but yes!”

“Good, good. Because you cannot tell anyone. At all,” Adam emphasised, to which Emily nodded enthusiastically. “And how about coming up with a compelling lie on the spot if you have to?”

Emily paused and shifted her gaze to the side, “Umm…”

“...Emily. Kid. Come on,” he pushed anxiously.

The girl brought her shoulders to her cheeks with a sheepish grin, “I can do my best?”

Adam stared intensely at her, not breaking eye contact, “...It’ll have to work. Okay, let’s go.”

“Go where?” Emily asked, blindly following him outside.

“Well it’s a secret so I can’t just explain it to you out in the open, idiot,” Adam hushed.

Emily nodded, “Right, right.”

They had gone somewhere close by to the hospital, but far enough away to not be noticed. A place where people usually weren’t. “Alright, reminder you can’t tell anyone,” Adam gestured with a finger to her face. After scanning to double check no one was around, he pulled Emily to the side to whisper to her, “Lute wants to have a baby, but some bullshit is stopping us, so I need you to–”

“OHMYG- Oh my good golly gosh! Adam that’s-” was all Emily could excitedly sputter before Adam clapped a hand over her mouth.

“Holy fucking christ, shut up!” Adam held her as she resisted against him, “Fucking hell, what part of secret did you manage to forget that fast?!”

Emily pulled his fingers apart and away from her mouth, trying to catch her breath, “AH! I’m sorry! But that’s so exciting!!” Emily freed herself from his grasp and neatened herself. After a few short calming breaths she asked, “What did you need from me?”

Adam rubbed at his temple. Maybe asking Emily for help wasn’t the best idea, but she’s his last hope. “I need you to get me those “only for the heavenborn” fertility booster pill things,” he said with what seemed to be a hint of desperation.

“But if they’re only for heavenborn, why do you want them? If they’re for Lute, couldn’t she just come get them? She’s a heavenborn,” she tilted her head with confusion.

“Look, it's a long story that I’m not gonna get into. Either help me or forget this whole thing ever happened,”

Emily watched him as his expression changed from that of irritation morph into desperation. “Okay, I’ll help you. But can you tell me what your plan is? I need a little more explanation here.”

“Ughh, I hate having to explain shit. Long story short, turns out that human souls can’t have kids in the afterlife. Which, clearly the problem here is me. I’m hoping that if I take these magical pill things, it might allow me to…do the thing I gotta do, ya know?” Adam tried to explain without being overly in detail.

Emily brought her hand to her lips in thought, “Okay, I get where your head’s at but…Who’s to say this medication meant for heavenborn angels will have the effect you’re hoping for?”

“Worst case nothing happens, right?” Adam shrugged. “Besides, it’s not like I’ll be telling her. If nothing happens, nothing happens, life carries on as normal. She’s already upset about not getting preggo, so what would be the point in telling her something that might not be true?”

Emily grimaced grossly at him and sucked a breath through her teeth, “Oooh…Gee I dunno about that one. I think you might want to tell her?”

Adam fanned his hand dismissively, “Pssh, nah. It’ll be fiiine.” Seeing how Emily’s face hadn’t changed he set his hand on her shoulder, “I know it sounds bad but…You don’t know just how badly she wants this baby. So I don’t want to get her hopes up just to have them fall again, ya know?”

“Right, yeah…” Emily looked pensively down to her feet. She hated seeing her friend upset, like that time when right after Adam hadn’t returned from the extermination. That emotionless look in her eye…Was that what Lute was feeling now? She didn’t want her to be feeling that again. “Okay! Let’s do this!”

“Sweet! Alright so you go do that and we’ll meet back at the fountain, yeah? I’m gonna go pick some stuff up for Lute. She’s at home dying on the couch from her period so I’mma bring her some snacks and shit,” Adam said as he began to head off in the opposite direction.

“Wait huh? You’re not coming with me?” Emily asked frantically. “Also what? She’s dying? What the heck is a period??”

Adam stopped and looked over his shoulder, “You kidding me? They just kicked my ass outta there. Hell no I’m not going with you, they’ll know something’s up!” Turning to face her, “Oh right yeah, Earth women get them all the time. They sorta bleed from their crotch region for a few days, but my girls only get them when they come back from down below, though.”

“THAT’S WHAT THAT WAS?!?” Emily shrieked in horror. 

Adam recoiled from her screech, covering his ears. ‘Oh right, that was the first time she’d ever been down to Hell. Guess Lute never gave her the heads up.’

Emily entered the hospital’s main lobby and found her way over to the pharmacy desk. She had to remain calm, not let anyone know she was up to anything. She was just coming in on an errand. “Hello? Could I get some help please?”

“Good afternoon, Miss Seraphim, what brings you in here?” The angel at the desk asked.

“Hi there!” Emily chimed, “This is a little awkward for me but, could I get an order of the fertility medication?”

The angel at the desk narrowed their eyes at her skeptically. They did just have some lunatic human soul screaming at them only an hour ago, asking for the same thing. “For you? Pardon my straightforwardness, but you are trying to have a child? You’re but a child yourself.”

Emily’s eyes widened in shock, she pushed her hands out in front of her shaking them, “No, no! Silly me, they aren’t for me, they’re-” she flustered, her dark face hued golden from embarrassment. But she could still pull this off, quick on her feet she continued “-they’re for my sister. She’s actually super embarrassed to have to ask so she sent me to discreetly get them for her. You know how she is, she likes her privacy private! Hee-hee… but oops! Look at me, spilling it broadly…I guess I sort of ruined her little surprise!” Emily rubbed the back of her head nervously, “If we could get those for her and then please pretend you never saw me, that would be fantastic.”

The angel looked Emily up and down. She was clearly nervous, but this wasn’t something new. Being asked to get something sensitive, and then being accused of being the person taking it, would make anyone a bit uncomfortable. Explained the hesitancy also. The angel gave her a slight side eye as they filled out the prescription, “It will be ready for you shortly, second window.”

“Thank you so much,” Emily sang cheerfully. She had done it! She trotted over to a seat, pleased with herself. After a short while, her name was called and she approached the window, this time with a new angel at the window.

“Did you have any questions about the medication?” The nice angel asked.

“Um, yeah actually I do have one little question. It’s kind of random though,” Emily said quietly.

“I’m all ears, sweetie!”

“So um, just purely out of curiosity because I like to learn things, what would happen if a human soul were to take this medication?”

“Oh, it does the same as it normally would for angels. We just really try to deter winners from getting their hands on them. Deceased souls shouldn’t be able to create new souls, they had that chance on Earth. There’s only so much space after all. It’s extremely discouraged so we will usually straight up refuse them. But apparently there was a crazy winner in here earlier screaming his bloody head off and demanding them until security had to kick him out,” the angel shook their head, “Makes you wonder how some people made it into Heaven.”

Emily bit her cheek to stop herself from saying the first thing that came to mind, ‘Yup, that was my uncle. While true, he definitely did come off that way, it was all for Lute so that doesn’t make him bad, right?’ She shook the thought away.

“Anyway sweetie, were there any other questions you’re curious about?” The angel said, drawing Emily’s attention back.

“Nope! I think that’s the only one I was curious about! Thank you again!” Emily said with her typical cheery tone, enhanced by her success at duping the staff. She stuffed the medication package into her dress pocket before leaving to find Adam outside.

Emily ran up to Adam who was swirling his finger around in the fountain out of boredom. With a gigantic smile across her face, her hands behind her back, she rocked back and forth on her heels, “Guess what~”

Adam quickly drew his attention away from the water, feeling his heart begin to pound in his chest. Had she done it? Was this his chance?

Emily pulled the small package from behind her and giddily shook it at him, “And! And! Even better~” Adam’s ears perked at her lifted tone. “It will work!! You two will be able to-” She covered her mouth as she looked around at the sparsely scattered people around them. “-you will be able to have your baby!!” Emily whispered to him, trying so hard to contain her excitement. “Oooh it’s going to be so hard to keep this to myself!!”

“Heh, well you better! We don’t need anyone learning about this. At least until it’s too late and there’s nothing they can do about it,” Adam grinned ear to ear. He pat Emily’s head before pulling her into a hug, “You did good, kid. How’d you pull that off anyway?”

Emily sheepishly smiled and itched her nose, “Well, I may have told a little lie…And said they were for my sister.”

Adam blinked at her, completely dumbfounded. “Holy shit. I didn’t think you had that in you, great fucking job!” Adam slapped her on the back in congratulations, “What do you want as payment?”

Emily shook her head, “Nope, you just make sure I get to meet a new family member!” Her smile faded for a moment, “So, you’re still not going to tell her?”

“Nah. Mainly because I’ll get an ear full if she learns I did the thing she said not to do,” He said with a chuckle.

Adam arrived back home to find Lute looking better than when he left. She wasn’t crouched over herself and was instead sitting up right as she read a book. “Hey babe, I brought you some snacks, and-” Adam reached into the bag containing the snacks he had got and pulled out a large lobster plush, “This menstruation crustacean! It’s a heating pad disguised as a stuffed animal! Ain’t that fucking neat?” 

Lute looked at the plush he had thrust into her view, “That is quite humorous.” Adam dropped it onto her stomach, “Woah, that’s heavier than I expected.” She set her book down and picked the toy up, “It is cute. Thank you, honey.”

“Course! But yeah, have at those snacks,” Adam said proudly before heading to their bedroom, the package from the pharmacy tucked beneath his wing out of sight.

Sitting on the end of their bed, Adam opened the package and looked at the case of pills, ‘Oookay…How the hell do these work? Isn’t there like an instruction manual or something?’ He tipped the box upside down and a folded up piece of paper fell out. He noisily unfolded the paper that was folded over about a million times, and paragraphs upon paragraphs of words met his eyes, ‘Woo…That’s a lot of words. Too bad I’m not gonna read 'em. This should be pretty straight forward, just take one of these a day, right?’ _________________________________________

Yes, this magical medication is essentially reverse birth control pills 🤣 No artwork with this one sadly, I didn't have a big standout moment that really called to me to make a piece for 💔 but I love this chapter regardless, a break from the heartache 💕

[grayintogreen]

OKAY SO. I am (and this is obvious for my followers as opposed to this tag), I am currently running headlong towards the ending of my huge CR longfic, but I have started to develop my next project. Not sure when I'll start posting because if I do it too soon it's going to be hard to keep up with it and YCDHN and I do NOT WANT THAT, so I'm gonna poke at it casually while seeing how much of YCDHN I can write before I come back from my posting hiatus in March. If it looks like I'm making a lot of headway in getting the next three chapters written, we'll see.

SO WHAT IS THIS NEXT PROJECT? Glad you asked.

learn that even death may die is going to be a Hazbin Hotel fic that goes AU after 1x06 (due to that being where I started plotting it). The official summary is as follows:

When Lucifer agrees to seal his powers to set an example of humility to buy more time for the Hotel to work, Adam and the Exorcists scheme with the Vees in order to take the Hazbin Hotel down once and for all. Meanwhile, Alastor has a little secret that he'd like to be through with that would change the face of Hell if anyone knew...

And Husk has caught feelings, which is unrelated to all of the above.

It's a plotty, ensemble piece, featuring Found Family dynamics, Alastor and Lucifer being each others' biggest haters, Husk and Angel in a bodyguard AU for reasons, and the kind of plot you can expect from the idiot who brought you two million words about Cree Deeproots.

Here's an extended preview of the first chapter. Spread the word! Get hype! It's something I'm really excited to work on when I've gotten a lot more progress on my YCDHN backlog.

The last week had been… Harrowing, to say the least. The Extermination had been personal- deeply personal- and while no one at the Hotel had fallen, the line of angelic spears stabbed into the ground outside with demon heads proudly spelling out YOU CAN’T HIDE FOREVER (Vaggie had noted that was such a waste of spears) had made the message clear. This was going to continue and next time they wouldn’t be so lucky.

She didn’t know when the next would come- back to a year or another six months or another week. She had paced, relentlessly, as the Hotel put itself back in order and those who had been injured licked their wounds. Husk, in particular, had survived a scuffle with Adam, himself, and while he didn’t appreciate the warm embrace he got for his bravery, she didn’t know how else to thank him aside from maybe a very expensive bottle of booze at Angel’s suggestion, which he did like and seemed to like even more when she told him it had been Angel’s idea.

That should have been something she lit on! Something that she could really sink her teeth into and do something about! Were Angel and Husk an item? Was there unspoken tension? What would that do for Angel’s suitability to Heaven? Surely, a stable, monogamous relationship could only-

But no. She’d let that thought slide out of her mind with barely more than a hum, never mind a full number about it. Her mind had to be on the Hotel and protecting it. She couldn’t even do a lesson plan in these conditions! Activities had ground to a halt in favor of ‘work together to clean up the corpses.’ She was going to scream or bite or… or something.

Vaggie helped. She always did. The initial shock of learning about her being an angel had passed and while there had been some distance in the month leading up to the Extermination, Vaggie’s dedication to her remained absolute and she had nearly gotten herself killed multiple times to make up for what she felt were her sins in the past.”

”Demons kill each other and that’s different,” she’d said when Charlie told her that no one in the Hotel, save herself, was fully clean of demon blood.”They aren’t killing because they think everyone here deserves to die. It’s different.”

So that was still sort of a whole unresolved thing too, and that was just before her father kicked the door in, ready to throw down because he had one rule when his hand was forced about the Extermination and that was not putting his family in direct harm. Getting him to do more than fume and fuss over it had occupied a lot of time she didn’t actually have, but the end result had led her here… Back to Heaven.

With her father.

Outside the golden gates, he stood ramrod straight, fingers clenched so tightly around the head of his cane she was certain his fingers would grip right to the core. She glanced at his shaking hands and laid her own over them. “Dad, it’s okay.”

“I haven’t been back to Heaven in… Oooh.” He whistled. “Awhile. It’s…” He tugged his collar. “Not actually full of great memories, y’know, sweetie?” He leaned over to whisper. “Maybe we should just go back down and work on this on a lower level. I know some phenomenal wards. You think that dusty radio guy has moves? Your dad has better moves. I invented some of those runes he uses. My wards- pristine.”

She wrinkled her nose and pulled him closer to the front desk. “Daaaad, come on. It’ll be fine. I think things will actually work out this time if you’re here.”

“Really? ‘Cause I feel like they’re gonna go much worse.” As if to prove it, the second the pair strode towards the desk, St. Peter nearly flung the guestbook to reach for something underneath the desk. Charlie had to lunge to stop his hand from hitting a button with a very familiar runic symbol on it- fuck, they had a Lucifer button.

“Wait wait wait! He’s not- we’re not here to cause any trouble. We just need to talk to Sera- or Emily. Actually, I’d rather talk to Emily, if it’s… all the same.” She shot him a winning smile.

Behind her, Lucifer was making what could only be described as a ‘stink face.’ “This is going greeeeat. Are you sure about this, Charlie? It’s not too late to go back.”

“Dad!”

“Charlie!” A winged shape suddenly burst free of the Gates and wrapped tight arms around her middle. Unable to resist, Charlie wrapped her arms around the gray-clad form as well and spun her around. “Emily!”

“Oh my Heavens, Charlie, I’m so glad you’re okay!” Emily pulled away to grip Charlie’s hands so tightly that it was a pleasant kind of crushing. Like a weighted blanket. She leaned forward to whisper, “I’ve been doing all I can. There are angels who truly believe this isn’t right. Sera has told me to give it up, that doubting leads to Falling, because-“

Both girls looked askance at Lucifer, fiddling with the head of his cane awkwardly, that vapid look he got when he was overwhelmed making it clear that he’d stopped paying attention.

Charlie, for the first time daring to doubt, whispered back in a nervous high-pitched lilt, “Iiiis it bad that I brought him here?”

“No! I… I don’t think.” Emily frowned. “I should warn Sera, of course.” She stepped back and approached Lucifer, who flinched like he was about to be scolded- oh dad how badly did the angels hurt you. “Greetings, Morningstar,” she said, bowing a bit. “It is an honor to meet you. I was only a fledgling when you Fell.”

“For the record, I didn’t Fall. I was pushed.” Lucifer, seeing Emily’s own flinch, immediately softened and underneath all the anxiety, Charlie caught a glimpse of the angel her father had been once as he ducked his head and accepted her greeting graciously and with the genteel quality of true nobility. “Thank you for being courteous about this. Tell the High Seraph that we won’t take up any of her time. We… have a deal to renegotiate. It seems Adam’s legions have forgotten what we agreed long ago.”

Emily bobbed her head with a grin and slipped through a portal, leaving St. Peter to anxiously open the Gates without his usual aplomb. Charlie strolled through and Lucifer, feeling somewhat more confident after seeing how Emily treated him, tapped the poor angel’s desk with his cane. “Keep up the good work, Pete.”

The promenade was still full of people dancing about in a joyous display of virtue and peace, but now looking at it, all she saw were people who had somehow gotten lucky. She tried to find a commonality in any of them, something that she could take back and use to prove her point, but there didn’t seem to be a single thing these people had that hers didn’t… besides, you know, the fixation on sin and murder. And, honestly, some of them might have that too, hidden under the surface. Look at Adam.

“Heyyyy, Short Stack! How’s it goin’?”

Speak of the fucking prick.

Every fiber of Charlie’s body reached for Hellfire and only her father’s iron-tight grip on her shoulder kept her from exploding in a rush of demonic energy. Her horns appeared and vanished in the blink of an eye and she focused on deep, healing breaths as Adam, the walking canker sore, swaggered up to them on the promenade.

“They’ll let anyone in here these days, huh?” Adam planted his hands on his hips and grinned. Behind him, Lute bristled.

“Funny. I was gonna say the same thing about you. Hah!” Lucifer barked. All that anxiety he’d worn outside had been cast aside like an old coat- something about Adam had struck the same nerve that Alastor had only in a different key. A beat, and then: “No seriously, how did you get in here? I was there, remember. You also ate the apple. It was a, uh, whole thing, actually.”

“Yeah, but I did it second.” He reached into his ear with his pinky to dislodge a bit of wax and flicked it across the golden streets. “That counts for something.”

Still lingering on the angels’ wishy-washy answer about how precisely one gets into Heaven and with the proof that there wasn’t some actual code to follow right before her eyes, Charlie crossed her arms over her chest and fought the urge to scowl. Scowling gives you lines that make your smiles less effective. Everyone knew that.

“How’s the wifey, by the by, Lucy? Still smokin’?” Adam slammed a hand into a fist. “Oh wait. I forgot. You two are hella divorced, amirite?”

“We are not divorced.” Lucifer began to panic, whipping to Charlie like he expected her to believe any of that shit. There was something in his eyes that spoke volumes about the truth of what was going on with him and Lilith that she would have to unpack later- she hadn’t asked before. It was too painful to bring up. “We- we’re on a break. Yeah, a break. Just a break.” He swallowed, leaned on his cane, and adjusted his stance. “Which is more than I can say for you and yours. How is Eve, by the way? Oh waaaait! She’s in Hell. With me. Just like your first wife. Hah. Man, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say one of us knows how to treat a woman.” Another pause. He leaned into Adam’s space and whispered. “It’s me.”

Adam’s ghoulish face screwed up in disgust. “Yeah, okay, pal, you just drink your ‘respect women’-” are the air quotes necessary? really?, “- juice. You can use it to gargle after you lick my balls.”

“Adam,” Sera’s voice said, coarsely, snapping him to attention with a mumbled aw fuck mom’s home.

She hovered as glorious as ever with her six wings, towering over Lucifer as she landed between him and Adam, shunting him out of her space and into Lute’s. Charlie and Emily both shot him sour looks and held hands in solidarity as they watched the fallen Morningstar engage with the High Seraph for the first time in millenniums.

The seconds ticked on in agonizing awkward silence. Lucifer’s throat bobbed. “High Seraph.”

“Morningstar,” Sera murmured, politely, her shoulders tense. Another long moment of silence followed- clearly she was waiting for Lucifer to explain himself. Charlie’s palms started to sweat, but not Emily’s. Angels apparently didn’t sweat. Her grip alone, however, spoke to her anxiety matching Charlie’s.

Lucifer’s jaw trembled and he finally, finally yanked himself together again. “Maybe we can talk about this somewhere more private? The street is… Open.”

Indeed, they were starting to attract attention. People might not recognize Lucifer on sight these days, but that apple and snake motif was sort of painfully obvious when you thought about it for a moment. Sera gave a nod and circled her fingers in the air to open another portal. “Certainly. Come into my office.”

Adam started to follow and Lucifer thrust his cane to stop him. “No, no. Not you. Seraphs only.”

Adam snarled and lowered the staff. “Your piece of hellsnatch daughter ain’t a seraph, Little Man.”

Charlie saw her father’s eyes light up with a fire she only saw when he had to be in a room with Alastor. “What did you say about my daughter?”

“Dad.”

“You want me to say it louder? Or do you want me to moan it, Daddy?” Adam leered.

“That’s enough!” Emily snapped before Sera could, her small form crowding into Adam’s space, all of her angelic eyes open and glowering daggers at the lesser angel. He shrank back. “There will be no more disrespect in this room. Adam, this concerns you, so you will be allowed entry, but please keep your mouth shut.”

Charlie felt her heart squish as Emily brushed off her dress and then strolled through the portal, nose primly in the air. Sera, lips pressed together, only gave a sober nod and followed.

“How come he-“ Adam snarled, but Lute gripped his arm and pushed him into the portal.

“Pick your battles, sir.”

“I wanna pick this one,” he whined as he vanished into the Seraph’s study. Lucifer and Charlie lingered for a moment- one with hope in her heart and the other rapidly descending into the pit of despair after just seconds of glorious, if not damning and futile, wrath. She reached for his hand.

“C’mon, dad. You got this.”

The soft smile melted her heart even more than Emily’s protection had. He stood on his toes to pull her into an embrace and give her a kiss on the head- more to comfort himself than her, she was sure, but she didn’t mind. He hopped through the portal and she followed into an austerely decorated space. Painfully minimalist. Ooh this was not a side of Heaven she liked at all. There wasn’t even art on the walls. Just gray slate with a huge plate-glass window behind the bare desk. Not a single knickknack to distract from its function.

Sera slid into the seat behind the desk, while Emily stood at attention next to her, hands clasped in front of her, eyes still fixed on Adam, daring him to speak. He skulked in the background, intentionally toying with the boring book-laden shelves- also free of knickknacks and personal touches- by running his fingers on the spines or pulling them out and pretending to read them before tossing them at Lute to put back with a bored eyeroll.

Conjured chairs were produced for Lucifer and Charlie, which they took, gladly. With everyone who was going to settle having done so, Sera sighed.

“Let’s talk, Lucifer. What brings you back to Heaven? You were told to never come back.

[sseanettles]

nothing grows in corpses (in the earth of me)

dream x hob gadling | mature | Finally cross-posting my take on the fandom classic of the show progresses as the comics do, even to The Wake. Until Death resurrects Morpheus and forces the choice of "redemption" upon him instead of suicide. It goes...horribly. No good. Very bad. Instead of learning the lesson, Morpheus (in his infinite wisdom) opts instead for a highly effective existence strike until one day Hob Gadling stumbles upon his ghastly handiwork and immediately decides that this just won't do. Man Who Refuses To Die vs. Man Who Refuses To Live: fight.

Dead Dove, Do Not Eat for the following: graphic depictions of starvation, illness, suicidal ideation, self-harm, blood and gore, loss of autonomy, etc. etc. This is some classic old world whump, folks! But I promise it's also supremely healing in the end.

CH. 13: Elsa's song | 6 k | AO3 link | prev part | next part

(or: the one where recovery is not a linear beast.)

The next few weeks settled into a tenuous pattern. Constantine’s nurse kept up her end of the bargain, though not from any kind of free will as Hob quickly learned when he lingered around the corner after one of their weekly supply hand-offs, listening to the women as they bickered.

“You gettin’ cold feet on me now, Sandy?” Constantine pushed, backing the woman against the side of her battered car. “I think you’re forgettin’ how this works.”

“I’m not a fucking hospital, much less a pharmacy!” she pushed back, though her voice was far less fiery than the words it spoke. “I’m gonna lose my license, I—”

“Are you seriously complaining about malpractice? You?” Constantine demanded, almost outright laughing in her face. But when Sandy did not back down, feebly standing her ground, shaking head to toe all the while, Constantine nodded to herself. “Alright.” She jerked her thumb over her shoulder down the road. “I’ll just set that demon loose in your new ward, then.”

Sandy paled to a sheet.

“Wait!” she cried and chased after the departing exorcist. “Wait, stop—”

“You summoned the damned thing, not me. It’s not my fault,” she said without breaking pace and rounded on the woman as she grabbed hold of her coat and tried to pull her to a stop. She seized her by the arm and slammed her back-first into the wall, looming in her face. “Fucking go on,” she goaded. “See if I care about a bunch of old fucks staring at the walls like vegetables until they finally kick it. It’s better than the kids you fed it last time.” A heavy silence mounted between them, a kettle on the verge of blowing. “Try me.”

And Hob watched from around the corner as Sandy’s defiance wilted and rotted away to dust.

“Are we good?” Sandy nodded, not meeting her eyes. “Same time next week, then. I’ll text you what they need.”

Hob watched Constantine go. She never once looked back, and she walked with the stride of one unburdened by any guilt for the things she said or did.

Once, he would have envied her. But now…now, he did his best to just fear her.

Bandages, IV fluids and lines, antibiotics, lighter pain medications than what Hob had tried before, physical and occupational therapy routines, and resistance bands…anything and everything they could think of Constantine via Sandy procured. Various YouTube channels run by various disciplines of healthcare providers filled in the rest, and Gwen and Hob quickly discovered that between the two of them, Morpheus participated a touch more readily in the more involved things like physical therapy with Gwen. At first, Hob’s pride had smarted, but on reflection, it made a certain kind of sense. Gwen did not know Morpheus, had never known him.

It was easier to struggle and fail with her. Easier to fall on his face, easier for his joints to buckle and his lungs to heave with the lightest of exertions as his stomach turned on him and his coughs lasted so long that he began to pass out from the lack of air. It was easier to be helped to the bathroom in the early days of recovery by one who had no frame of reference for who he had once been and who did not rub salt into his wounds with her presence alone.

And Gwen had returned home after that first week. She had just needed some time to process, according to her, had needed to map out a few ground rules in her head before moving forward. For one: no half-naked women, property damage, blood, or dead bodies in the house without warning. None of the above ever was preferred, but she had resigned herself to adjusting her expectations at least for the short-term future.

If she was going to come home to a shit show, she had the right to know about it ahead of time.

For another: no talking animals while she was in the flat. Her brain was this close to breaking already. If Matthew was around when she was, he had to confine himself to raven noises only, thank you very much.

While Morpheus had been visibly wounded to hear the bit about Matthew, he had begrudgingly accepted her terms. Not that he had really had much of a choice, but the semblance of one mattered all the same.

Hob had given her so many massages in those weeks, and he had a couple different spa packages in his back pocket for future heavy days. He wished there wouldn’t be anymore, that healing from this point on would only get easier. But he knew better.

Recovery was not a linear thing.

o\\__oOoOoOo__//o

The first major relapse came about three weeks in. Morpheus had never truly recovered any kind of appetite; he still picked at his food more than he ate it. He was only slightly better at keeping up with his fluids and still relied quite heavily on the IV to keep him adequately hydrated. While the antibiotics had gone a long way to resolving the pneumonia, he still grew short of breath at even the slightest exertion, and when he did choose to speak, his sentences were punctuated every four or so words by a heavy, recovering breath.

But the one thing he did keep up with, as best as he could with the way he was neglecting himself in every other category, was his mobility.

Range of motion, weight bearing exercises, resistance bands, slowly increasing the very brief distances he struggled through in Gadling’s flat—he chipped away at it all, kept at it until his strength resembled more that of a schoolchild and less that of toothpicks and wet paper.

Gwen was delighted; in her eyes, this was a step in the right direction, a sign that their strange guest had turned at least one corner and had committed to his recovery. It was a sign that he would maybe yet not be a permanent fixture in their home, whether she would admit it or not.

It puzzled Hob.

He knew his stranger to be many things: stubborn, principled, utterly bone-headed at times in his drive to prove that he and he alone was right.

The one thing he knew him to not be was receptive to the notion that he had perhaps been mistaken and over-reacted and that he should actually listen to the counsel of others.

That was downright laughable.

A man who had let himself waste away into a breathing corpse purely to make a point did not just wake up one day and decide to live. That did not happen. Anywhere. Hob couldn’t think of even a single fairytale or folk story that went that way. And yet here he was, standing at the kitchen island as he finished grading his last paper and watching nervously as his Stranger finally tired at the window, set aside his book, removed the blankets from his legs, and rose unsteadily to his feet. He crossed the room back to his bed in similar, slow fashion, bracing himself along every surface he could reach as he did and using the infusing IV pole as a crutch all the way. But he made it back, even lowering himself to sit on the edge of the bed instead of getting partway down and collapsing the rest of the distance. His cheeks were flushed with the effort, his breaths heavy, and he looked to Hob as he pushed back his bangs that were just starting to reach his eyebrows once more. His nails were still fragile, but not as split and no longer infected, and the little scabs dotting his body had faded away to scars in most places and disappeared altogether in others.

“Satisfied?” Morpheus muttered in that backhanded manner of his, and Hob rolled his eyes as he fetched his friend his nightly cup of water. It was never touched when the morning came, but he liked to think he was laying the groundwork for a future habit.  

Harmless delusions like that were important to have.

“A grand marathon,” he threw back and set the glass on the coffee table beside him. “You need anything else?”

“No,” Morpheus shook his head. “I am…well, Gadling.” 

“I think well is overselling it a bit. You’re still breathing like a bad advertisement in a smoking kills campaign. Come on.”

Morpheus rolled his eyes but followed Gadling’s herding hands nonetheless to lay back in bed, drawing the blankets over himself with his own strength as had been increasingly common of late. A small smile pulled at Hob’s mouth as he watched him move, as he noted the already far decreased number of dressings taped about him and the shallower hollows within his cheeks and ribs.

Slow, but steady.

“Good to go?” he asked, reaching for the light switch as he headed for his own room, and Morpheus nodded his assent. “Goodnight, my friend. Sleep well.”

“Good…night.”

The room fell dark, and Hob hesitated for a moment amid the black, listening to his friend’s unsteady breaths as they gradually slowed before forcing himself to go to his own room.

For all intents and purposes, it had seemed a perfectly normal evening. Or at least, as close to their normal as their bizarre new lives could get.

So, when Hob awoke in a panic four hours later, at the blackest hour of the night, to the sound of some calamitous crash from beyond their bedroom and a harshly stifled scream of pain, it was the understatement of the century to say he had not been expecting it.

“What the fuck?!” Gwen yelped, scrambling for the lamp switch beside them, but Hob was already out of bed, sprinting for the living room.

“Stranger?!”

The bed was empty. The IV pump still stood beside it, still running happily away without a problem, but a small puddle of saline spread across the floor, seeping into the rug. Hob could see the pulled catheter at the center of it, tinged with blood, and he quickly scanned the rest of the flat, going to the kitchen and the knives first.

All there. Same with the hatchet and the fire pokers. The window was shut.

But the front door…

“Robbie!” Gwen was calling from the other room, stumbling from the bed herself, “what happened?!”

The front door was open.

“Fuck,” he hissed and ran for the landing.

Curled at the bottom of the stairs, wheezing and moaning in pain, laid Morpheus.

“Fuck,” Hob repeated, with greater feeling this time round, and ran down the stairs as quickly as he could manage in the dark, leaning into the banister all the way. “Stranger!”

Morpheus gritted his teeth against his burning tears and ground the heel of his one working hand into his eyes as he listened to Gadling hurrying to his side. It came away bloody, and he hid his battered face in the floor.

Useless. Weakling. You could not even manage to run away properly.

“Alright…you’re alright…”

I am not alright, you blundering fool! he wanted to snap as Gadling’s hands began their gentle assessment of his shivering body, starting with his head and spine. I am the furthest thing from alright. This is torture grander than the designs of hell, this is—

This was a refractured wrist, dislocated shoulder, a new laceration to his forehead and cheek where he had struck the edges of the steps, a bloody nose, several new bruises across his arms and legs and spine, at least one cracked rib, and a sizeable goose egg to the back of his head. Hob coaxed him onto his back, and his heart twisted at the way his friend threw his one good arm over his face, hiding from Hob’s eyes in the crook of his elbow as he fought to smother his shamed sobs.

“I’m going to have to reset the arm, my friend.”

Morpheus’ hand snapped from his head to Hob’s chest, scrabbling at his shirt, pleading.

“No—”

Hob caught his striking hand and forced him to still.

“It’s me or I call Constantine’s nurse.” He paused, holding Morpheus’ wide, fearful eyes. He seemed so much younger in the moonlight that spilled through the foyer window…so much paler. For a moment, the man beneath him seemed but a boy, and he thought of ebony black eyes and snow-white hair. “Which of us do you want?”

His answer came in closing eyes and a head turning away.

“I’ll be quick,” he promised.

From the landing upstairs, Gwen watched Robbie gently help Morpheus into a seat against the wall. He maneuvered his arm into position, and then there came a quick pull and a jerk followed by two nauseating pops as first the wrist and then the shoulder realigned. Morpheus cried out again through gritted teeth, and a new track of tears spilled down his cheeks.

“All done,” Hob soothed and ran his hand up and down Morpheus’ bruised side, trying to calm his hyperventilating breaths. “We’re all done.”

He tugged off his pullover and bound the garment around his friend’s chest, knotting and twisting the sleeves until he had fashioned a sturdy sling that kept the limb immobile and pressed close. And then, there was silence, punctuated only by Morpheus’ soft, shaking breaths and the quiet notes of pain that accompanied the end of each exhale. But by now, Hob knew better than to mistake this for the quiet of calm, of centering meditation. For the quiet of sanity. 

And when Morpheus made a sudden lurching bolt for the door, barely getting his legs under him, Hob was ready. He lunged after him and caught him around the middle before he could swan dive back into the tile.

“My friend, I am not here to keep you prisoner,” he protested and fought to wrangle the man back to the ground with him. “But you are not well!”

“I am well enough to walk—” Morpheus spat back, the words strung together in a rushing wheeze as he struggled to free himself. Hob dragged him back to the floor and pinned him in a seat against the wall with a single hand to his chest.

“You couldn’t even manage the stairs, you just fell your way down them!” he hissed in disbelief, shouting though his words were whispered still. “Where were you going? Where did you think—”

Morpheus shoved at him to no avail, and his eyes welled anew with frustrated, hateful tears as he shouted back his answer.

“Back to the alley!”

Hob went quiet. His hand slowly slipped from his friend’s chest as his own eyes began to glitter.

“I…I cannot be here,” Morpheus continued and tore at his clothes, his skin, at his lame arm with a mounting self-horror and hatred, and the tears slipped from his eyes in a steady, unnoticed stream. “This-this form, it is fragile, weak—this-this grotesque burden! It is despicable, I am desp—I cannot—”

Hob grabbed him mid-ramble and pulled him into a crushing embrace that stopped his thoughts mid-tailspin like a wall. And for a few heartbeats, they just sat there in silence, two grown men on a tiled floor bathed in moonlight at three in the godless morning.

“Let go,” Morpheus whispered.

“No.”

Morpheus tried to push at him, to wrench him away. A mouse would have had better luck moving a mountain.

“Let go of me, I command you—”

“Why?” Hob demanded as Morpheus continued to thrash against him, no care given now to his hyperventilating breaths or his new wounds as the blood spattered Hob’s shirt and smeared across his neck and jaw.

“No one touches me—” his Stranger snarled, desperate now, and Hob tightened his arms in a jostling wrench with one hand at the crown of his old friend’s head and the other wrapped about his back.

“I do!”

The ferocity in those two, snapped syllables knocked Morpheus back enough on his heels that Gadling forged ahead, his voice trembling but earnest and true.

“I carried you in my arms when you were more rot and death than life. I warmed your face against my throat. I bathed you. I tended your wounds. I fed you. I cleaned you.” He swallowed, took a few breaths, and pushed on. “I saw you at your absolute worst, and I loved you all the while.”

From the word loved on, even Morpheus went still.

“And yeah,” Hob wetly laughed and tucked his fingers into his friend’s hair, “you were grotesque. And you are a burden, let’s not pretend you aren’t. Especially because I know you put yourself in that alley.” Morpheus flinched. His hand curled into a trembling claw of a thing, shaking, as he tried not to touch anything, let alone Hob. “You dug that hole I found you in for yourself like there was oil or gold at the bottom and you only had a day to strike it. You are a self-destructive, cruel fuckin’ mess.”

Morpheus wanted to disappear. He wanted the earth to swallow him, wanted to be as good as dead beneath a blanket of snow and a frozen quilt, forgotten by the world.

“But we’re all burdens. That’s fucking life!” Hob snapped and shook him again, his voice nearing the breaking point. “And I am hugging you like if I let go the world’s gonna end because you are my friend, and I love you all the same.”

Morpheus’ eyes went wide, and he scarcely breathed. His hand slowly began to drift down.

“I loved you as a demon,” Hob continued when he was sure his words wouldn’t fray apart into croaking tears. “As a fae lord…as some inscrutable cosmic…thing. I loved you as a shroud.” The edge of Morpheus’ palm settled on Gadling’s hip, and the man sucked in a sharp, quaking breath as he pushed on. “I loved you as a pain in the arse who lives on my sofa. And I love you right now as the stuck-up, arrogant idiot who just threw himself headfirst down the stairs because how dare somebody see him as less than beautiful and perfect and untouchably all-powerful.”

And in the silence that followed Gadling’s mighty declaration, the kind of words that would have wreaked havoc on the Dreaming for an age and now echoed only in the foyer of a Richmond flat, Morpheus’ broken head sagged heavily upon his shoulder. His hand tipped to settle fully against Hob’s hip before slipping into a hesitant return embrace.

Surrender; at long last, surrender.

Hob’s shirt grew damp with blood and silent tears, and he blinked swiftly at the ceiling, fighting to keep himself together.

“I did not ask for this,” Morpheus gritted into him.

Hob closed his eyes as if struck, and before he could think better of it, he pressed a fleeting, comforting kiss to the man’s temple before pressing his head a bit more firmly to his Stranger’s. He ran his fingers a little deeper into his hair and closed his eyes with a heavy, heavy sigh as he felt Morpheus sag into him a little more at the tenderness.  

“I know,” he murmured and ran his other hand along the knobs of his aching spine. “But you’re here now. We both are. And we both have to make do with what we’ve been handed.”

After a while, Gadling began to pull away, and when it seemed Morpheus was going to let him go, he sat back on his heels and held his friend at arm’s length.

“Hey.” He ever so gently chucked his bruised chin, guiding him to meet his eyes. “You don’t ever have to pretend with me. If you really, truly want to go out that door, I won’t stop you.” God, but his eyes looked so tired…so worn through. “I mean, I will think you’re an idiot, and I will wait until you’re senseless on the ground again in whatever alley you pick next and then just bring you right back home to do this all over again,” he said as if it should be obvious, “but I won’t stop you. I’ll do this as many times as you need. I’ve got nothing but time.” He ran his hand up and down Morpheus’ good arm and tried to catch his eye again as, eventually, it slipped from his. “Can we go back upstairs, love?”

Morpheus shivered. There it was again.

Love.

He gave a weary nod, not quite meeting Gadling’s eye, and allowed the man to help him back to his feet. Hob pulled his friend’s good arm over his shoulders while his own slipped around that boney waist to help him on each wobbling step up the stairs.

When Hob looked up, Gwen was gone from the landing.

“Y’know,” he huffed as they made their slow ascent. “I was going to give you a hug back in 1889. When I said you were lonely.”

Morpheus swallowed and took a few breaths before answering.

“I suspected.”

There was a pause.

“Bit easier to run out of a pub than a flat, isn’t it?” The look Morpheus shot him from his bruise-swelling eyes could only be translated as oh fuck you, and Hob laughed, rubbing his thumb along his hip in comfort as they continued upward. “Come on, mate.”

When they reached home once more, Gwen was nowhere to be seen. The bed had been tidied and prepared once more for sleep, and the first aid kit had been laid out on the coffee table: a suture set, stack of gauze pads, roll of tape and tube of antibiotic ointment already set aside.

The door to their bedroom was closed once more, and once he’d gotten Morpheus squared away once more, settling him back in bed with his menagerie of wounds dressed anew and setting aside the now useless IV pole and pump, he retreated into the waiting, frosty dark. He changed his clothes in silence, and when he climbed into bed, he could tell plainly from the tension in Gwen’s weight upon her side of the mattress that she was wide awake.

“I’m really sorry, love,” he said after a time. “I know you have your big lecture tomorrow, and—”

Gwen rolled over.

“It’s fine.”

Hob turned after her.

“It’s not.” She said nothing, and her silence spoke volumes. Hob released a quiet sigh. “We’ll talk tomorrow. I love you.”

For a while, so long that Hob was sure she wasn’t going to say anything at all to him, Gwen was quiet.

“I know,” she finally whispered and pulled a second pillow over her silk-wrapped head. “Don’t forget to wake up early to clean up any blood he left on the stairs and in the foyer.”

Message received.

“…Yeah. Won’t forget.” Hob’s chest ached, and he turned away, adjusting his pillow at an angle so he could wrap his arms partially about it while still burying his head into its depths.

When sleep took him, he awoke in an idyllic field beneath a towering oak tree on a fine summer day. Morpheus laid beneath him, bloodied and broken, just as he laid in his living room now though without the care of stitches or slings, and he held Hob’s horrified eyes with a listless emptiness. The flowers wilted. The grasses died. And the ground turned to hard-packed permafrost that spread from his Stranger’s body like a mold, consuming him and all around them. Hob could only watch as the ice spread into his own flesh and bone where they touched and froze him into place like some sort of grotesque statue as he tried too late to pull away.

And once Morpheus’ chill robbed from him the last of his freedom, his Stranger’s hand slowly raised to his ice-carved features. His fingers brushed his cheeks like tiny daggers, caressing the line of his nose, his brows, following the path of his cheekbones to his jaw and finally his lips. Hob yearned to shudder but could not so much as blink or even breathe as his Stranger’s nails lengthened and their touch trailed down his neck, over his collarbones, to wait upon his chest.

Please, he wanted to beg— (please, yes? please, no?) Mercy.

And Hob howled in silence as Morpheus’s hand dug in, titanium fingers crushing his ribs, tearing through cartilage and flesh. He wanted at the least to close his eyes, to not see his own crimson spilling down Morpheus’ arm or the expression on his face as he dug. But he could not, and the icy grip pushed and groped ever further into him until it found what it sought.

It curled around his frantically beating heart…

His Stranger smiled that sly, mean smile of old.

…and then ripped.

Gadling could do nothing but stare with frozen eyes as his lifeblood poured in a crystallizing spatter atop his friend, and everywhere the scalding blood touched, Morpheus’ skin began to thaw. His dark head fell back in ecstasy, the color returning, the life glowing once more in his eyes as he clutched Hob’s still-beating heart in his hand.

Gadling felt himself grow colder. And colder. And colder….

And Morpheus moved, leaning up to him with a bloodstained mouth that pressed hungrily to his own, to his neck, and Dream’s voice of old purred against his ear like a starved cat presented with an endless feast.

“Thank you…” Those resonant tones amplified, and a voice Hob felt he should know yet could not recall having ever heard grinned in redoubled volume atop Morpheus’, “my love.”

The hands tore back into him, prying him apart to make a home, and Hob’s silence screamed and screamed.

Gwen dreamed of gardening. She tended the bountiful yard of a nice house back in North Carolina that she owned, where she was close to all her friends and family and never had to look at another talking animal or hear the title “of the Endless” ever again for the rest of her very long natural life.

In the living room, Morpheus watched the hearth’s embers dwindle to coal and did what he did most nights.

He lost himself in thought and bell jar silence and did not stray anywhere near the land of dreams. He released the effort it took to listen in this mortal plane, allowed the tightness in his neck to relax, and traded his tension headache for the dull constancy of a concussion and the throb of his pulse in his newly sutured forehead. His left eye was nearly bruised shut, and he adjusted the lay of the ice pack to the back of his head as he considered next steps.

His plan for a quick escape in the night had, obviously, failed, and at his current rate of recovery, it was a decreasingly viable plan overall. And in the light of Gadling’s rather melodramatic proclamation, it felt especially cruel to drag his weary body to the kitchen or the window and attempt to end things himself. His sister of course, would not come. But his demise would butt against her domain, would announce his commitment to his decision far more poignantly than any fragmented sentence he could gasp out, and that was his only intent.

But then, Gadling would have to clean up the results of his handiwork, or worse Guinevere. They would have to patch him together once more like that asinine children’s rhyme, knowing he would just do it again and again and again, and the cycle would continue. It was hardly kind or considerate, but then again, Morpheus had never pretended to be either.

…Perhaps he could hide a paring knife in the bathroom tonight. Then, at his next bath, he could take advantage of the privacy and the containment the tub provided and slit his wrists beneath the warm water. It would be easier for Gadling to clean. He would, ostensibly, just need to open the drain, douse the porcelain in bleach, and then—

“My, my,” someone crooned from the window bench. “I should call my dearest twin here for the mood in that mind.”

It was a subtle thing, the way Morpheus’ already flat expression turned to stone and his eyes to steel. But turn, they did, and when his battered skull pivoted upon his neck to glower at the entity that lounged in the moonlight—clad only in a long, flowing black robe of silk and lace and feather that spilled about their bared legs and down to the floor like ink—they only grinned back at him with a smile as sharp as knives.

“Hello, Morpheus,” Desire purred.

“What do you want?” he asked, and what had once been a disdainful demand in a life now passed was little more than a frightened whisper.

Desire laughed, cold and ringing and as playful as the bedroom, and laced their fingers together as they allowed their spine to bend, and they stretched their joined arms above their head toward the ground as they rolled languidly onto their back. The window seemed to grow with them, the bench transforming to a fainting couch and then a bed that they sprawled within. Their bare feet played at the glass, their toes painted red to match their lips, and left fogged footprints behind.

A throne for the reigning victor.

“What do you want is the better question,” they leered, upside-down, and rolled onto their stomach to rest their chin upon the cradle of their fingers. Their golden eyes gleamed like fire as they shifted from Morpheus’ carefully still frame to Hob’s bedroom door. Their grin widened from Cheshire cat to hungry wolf. “Or even better, what does he want.” They drew upright like a cobra, like a lion at the head of their pride, and pointed to Morpheus with a sharp-tipped finger in playful scold. “You hid him from me, brother, but no longer. Such delicious things are happening in that brain of his tonight and all of it mine.”

“Don’t.”

“Don’t?” Desire laughed at the piteous objection, and they swung their legs over the edge of the bed with a dancer’s brutal swiftness, sweeping to their feet. “That’s all you have to say to me?”

Desire was smaller than him. It was not by much, a couple inches perhaps, but for the entirety of their existences, they had always been forced to look slightly up at him. Here, now, they were the one who towered, and Morpheus could do little else but watch them come, their every move sultry and fluid and dangerous.

“No posturing?” they needled as they soon reached his bedside. “No threats of ending me or raining down ruin? Just one…” They mounted the bed and drew closer still, “pitiful…little…don’t?”

Morpheus struggled as far back as he could in his newly injured state, balking before Desire’s advances until he was pressed to the sofa’s back; his head turned away, and his eyes cast to the floor as he tried to calm. Desire loomed above him, straddling his legs, and leaned down as they peered at their fallen brother’s sad state. “Well,” they purred after a time, sneering. “I suppose that’s all you can manage right now, isn’t it? Tch…”

Morpheus jumped as Desire’s nails caressed their way up his throat to hook him by the underside of his jaw and drag his head to face them.

“Look at you,” they chided with a pouting frown that spread all too easily into another cruel smile. “The things you do to yourself.”

He swallowed and swore their nails drew blood. “Desire,” he hoarsely whispered, only just keeping himself from outright pleading, and they rolled their eyes with a groan.

They released their hold in a put-upon flick of their wrist and picked at his hair next as his head tipped with a pained wince.

“I’ll leave him be…” they sighed, and they waited until they saw the flash of relief in Morpheus’ swollen eyes before allowing another mischievous smirk to curl their painted lips. Their hand returned to his jaw in a clamping flash that dug their nails into his hollow cheeks and had him startling with a grunt of pain. “For now. But you’ll have to do something for me first.”

Morpheus thought of Desire’s talons sunk into Gadling’s mind and body, thought of the man’s gluttony at the mercy of their destructive cruelty, and set his jaw against Desire’s grip.

“Name it,” he growled, for a moment the Morpheus of old.

Desire’s smile turned victorious. They leaned close, holding him in place by the jaw as their lips neared his ear. Their breath was hot on his skin, their scent overwhelming, and Morpheus braced himself for their price as they whispered….

“Fucking…eat.”

His mind grated, ground, and utterly broke.

“What,” he said. The blindsided word hardly registered as a question, and Desire looked directly into his eyes, still holding him in that throttling grip.

“I am tired of your rotted bones haunting my halls like some kind of putrid ghost,” they snapped, and Morpheus could only stare in utter bewilderment. “Start eating. Start drinking. Start sleeping. Start fantasizing. I don’t care what order you do it in, but you better start doing it tonight, because if you don’t—”

Morpheus’ voice strengthened even as his ability to comprehend what was happening with this conversation unspooled like a runaway ball of yarn.

“What,” he repeated, and Desire swatted him upside the head.

“Hunger is just a facet of desire, you shit. All of this,” they gestured to his mess of a body, “is you being arrogant enough to think you can self-immolate your way back into our big sister’s good graces. But guess what, my lord? Death’s not listening. My twin has had her fill. You’ve been knocking about in the wrong kingdom, and I have had it. I—”

They caught themselves with a deep, composing breath, and when they resumed, it was at their usual cadence.

“Start eating. Start sleeping,” they ordered, and their tone, too, began to soften until it returned to their natural, predatory purr. “Or else…” Their eyes slid from their brother’s to something off to their right, and they turned his head with them to look to Gadling’s bedroom door. “…I make all your appetites uncontrollable.”

 …They wouldn’t.

“You’d just absolutely shatter loyal little Guinevere’s heart. Hell, maybe the rest of her, too,” Desire continued and bit by bit released their grip on Morpheus’ jaw as they watched him somehow pale further beneath the fresh bruises and wounds. “As you well know, you always get what you want when it comes to lust…or you destroy what stands in your way to get it.” Desire was no longer touching him, but still his head stayed turned, his eyes transfixed on the heavy door and the people who slumbered innocently on beyond it. “And Gadling…” They laughed and slipped from the bed to peruse the kitchen, lingering at the fruit bowl. “Oh, that one would bow for you so fast it embarrasses even me,” they leered and made their selection, “and we both know that you never leave much behind once you’ve satisfied the hunt.”

He thought of Gwen helping him down the hall to the bathroom and guiding him through therapy exercises. He thought of Gadling tending his wounds and studiously tracking each one’s healing. He thought of their endless patience and kindness, and Gadling’s kiss seared his temple in the cooling night, his arms firm about him as he relentlessly pursued his own destruction.

Desire wouldn’t, he begged.

But Desire would. He knew they would, and they would laugh the whole while, delighting in their destruction and cruelty as this flat tore itself apart. He turned from Gadling’s room and looked up at his sibling beside him as they returned, hiding something behind them all the way. And as they read in his eyes the resignation and hatred, they knew they had won.

They presented a banana from behind their back with the single most juvenile smirk on their face. After a moment, Morpheus snatched it from them, and their expression sobered to something that was almost grim approval as, glaring all the way, he ate the entire thing.

“About time.”

[muldermuse]

Halloween Party... or a cat nap (Fox Mulder X Reader)

Another fic for the Muldermuse October Writing Fest!

This started as something v different and finished as something dumb...i just <3333 cat dad Mulder- my heart is full

if u have fox mulder ideas send em through my lovesss <3

OK so you’re at a Halloween party with your friends maybe like a week before the 31st bc u know being an adult is difficult and no one is ever free at the same time and u need like 2-3 weeks to organise a single drink so you’re all like halloween drinks on the 27th!!!!

you’re not properly dressed up, you’re wearing a tight black dress with some fake blood covering your neck and some fake fangs. tbh with a make up wipe your entire spooky look would be gone but Fox thinks you’re the spookiest/sexiest thing he has ever seen (he nearly makes you late because he can’t stop kissing you goodbye)

He tells u if u can’t get a taxi to call him immediately and he’ll pick all ur friends up and drop them all home BUT u insist that you’ll be fine and then you’re out

Fox is left alone and whilst he’s definitely going to miss u, this week has been a lot and he is very much looking forward to lying on the sofa, with a beer, a blanket and a horror film on the TV. He hums to himself as he gets the living room ready, ensuring that everything he needs (extra snacks, his glasses and a blanket) are all within his grasp so he doesn’t have to leave his comfortable position again

He turns the TV on and as he is flicking through the channels he hears a small meow at his feet, he goes to look down and ur cat Boo is just staring at him. Sometimes Boo is so quiet and calm, u both forget u have a small feline housemate/child (and then she screams at 3am whilst sat on your chest)

Boo meows and tilts her head at Fox, “Mom is out tonight so it’s me and you. I’m planning on watching some movies and having a nap- do you wanna join?”

Boo meows again as Fox pats the space next to him, she looks at him blankly as he continues to pat the empty spot. “Boo c’mon you’re making me look like an idiot…and it’s only me and you here”. She meows quietly and turns around to wander around the house. “Okay...whatever” Fox says to himself, placing his glasses on his face as he turns the volume up on to watch The Exorcist.

***

Fox feels his head start to drop a few times, he is no longer paying attention to the film and he knows he’s about to fall asleep. He repositions himself to get comfortable and suddenly feels the weight of a cat on his stomach. “Oh, finally decided to join me?”. Boo chirps softly in response and curls into a ball on Fox.

Boo falls asleep before Fox and watching her small body rise and sink with her breathing makes it harder for him to not doze off. The small buzz of the beer in his veins, the twinkling fairy lights and the comfort of the sofa all become the perfect environment for an evening nap. 

***

You’re not drunk, maybe a little bit tipsy but honestly you’re impressed at how sober you feel. You thank the taxi driver and get out of the car and practically run to your front door- sometimes you feel lame about how much you miss Fox but fuck it, love is beautiful and all that soppy stuff.

You can hear the TV playing softly in the background and the unmistakeable sound of Fox snoring in the front room. You smile as you kick your shoes off and pad slowly into the living room and there he is- what a sight.

He’s fast asleep with Boo in a tight ball on his chest. Fox’s snoring hasn’t disturbed your sometimes skittish cat and, as ever, she looks content when she is asleep on someone. You press a soft kiss to Fox’s forehead, feeling him begin to stretch as he opens his eyes “hi handsome, have a good sleep?”. As Fox starts to move, Boo looks at you and yawns, stretching her body and then jumping off Fox as if she had not just spent the past few hours dozing with him.

He hums and asks what time it is as he reaches to bring you to him, “come lie with me-please”.

“Let’s go to bed, c’mon Fox” He gives you his best puppy eyes and pushes out his bottom lip, you roll your eyes and side in next to him on the sofa. He wraps his arms around you and kisses your head softly, “did you have a good night?”

“Yeah it was okay, everyone looked very spooky” He laughs into your hair, “Did you and Boo have a good Halloween party?”

“I mean... it was less of party and more of a cat nap but it was still good"

[dungeonegg]

Kust wanted to give you all a quick little update about how things have been going. This is gonna be a bit long so I'll do the cut thing here.

A couple weeks ago, my mom asks me if we can afford car payments to go up because she wants to trade in the leased car for a new car. I tell her if it's really what she wants, we'll figure it out. So the dealership orders in a new car for her. Then three days ago, she shows me the back of her phone because she noticed an issue with it.

Not sure if the photo will post but if not, the glass over her camera on the back if somehow perfectly shattered over one of the lenses and a bit in a few other spots too. Major safety issue. She did end up getting glass feom it in her finger at one point. So on top of a new car, new phone needed. So off to the provider we go the next day to get a new phone. During that process, mom decides we're updating mine as well since neither of us have updated in like five years or so. Because it was late when we got there, they couldn't activate or transfer things same day so we get an appointment to come back the next day to do that.

So yesterday was the appointment. I let my coworkers know that hey, need to leave pretty much right when we close to go to this appointment as it's like a 30 minute drive to get there. Around 230 or so my one coworker comes back from lunch with a thing of canned air to clean his station which is right next to mine. He then decides to experiment with it by holding it upside down and spraying coins. Not a big deal. Next thing j know, he's frozen his pen.

Apparently the combined smell of chemically frozen ink and way too much canned air in a sort of small space was too much for me. So I start coughing. Trying to help someone cash their check and I keep having to stop to cough. But get that done and go to the other room to put away cash. Bear in mind, at this stage I've already told coworker he's never allowed canned air again and he's apologized several times. Can't stop coughing. Go to break room to sit for a moment and get something to drink, help with the cough. One of my other coworkers is there and just kinda staring at me like "dude, wtf" so I tell him what happened. He immediately gets worried and tells me to sit and do I want him to kick first coworker, because he will. Give mom a call to let her know what happened. During the call, start trying to clear my throat. By this point, I'm coughing, hacking, and gagging. Apparently I can give the exorcist a run for their money, according to my coworker and it sounds like I'm possessed by the devil. Nearly throw up. Mom tells me to stop outside so I can get some fresh air, which helped a bit so I go back inside to sort money and sell to vault.

Continue coughing. So I go make some tea and send possibly the most British texts (my mother is 1/2 British, 1/2 Irish) I have ever sent in my life: 'making tea. Coworker is never allowed canned air again'. Normally when I make tea, there's milk and sugar in it but since the only milk there is expired by three months, I threw out the milk and just added a TON of honey with the sugar. Not my favorite taste but not bad and it seriously helped so much. My poor coworker who'd brought the canned air kept apologizing. Later, I was telling my boss what happened only to wind up explaining that you're not supposed to shake canned air, which apparently she has done every time she uses it.

Anyway, get out of work, go to phone appointment, that takes about an hour, then off to dealership so we can get the new car. We were there for a couple hours to get paperwork and everything finished up. Luckily there wasn't too much because mom had been earlier and done a bunch of it but car wasn't ready then which is why we had to go back. Have been sporadically coughing the entire time.

Did manage to get a bit of progress on a little drabble thing for Dungeon Egg that I'm using as a way to get a better grasp of some of the characters. Honestly it deals with a bit of a spoiler for one of them so probably won't be releasing it for a while still but I will release it eventually.

I promise, I'm still working on the demo! Not entirely sure when I'll have it up hut hoping to do so within the next couple weeks or so. No promises other than you guys will know as soon as it's available!

[veenomorph]

As I’m slowly trying to get my own content on here—ya know, the reason that I made this account to begin with, I’m going to start sharing my own stuff more often I think.

This post is about a story that ran rampant through TikTok when I was on it—and based on the email notifications is still kicking. Upon a quick view, this thing is up to almost 18M views, and my internet legacy is me shitting myself, so you guys might as well enjoy it too lmao.

CW/TW for: vomit/shit, and mentions of physical disability+illness

I present to you…

The Pizza Hut Incident

At one point my partner and I lived with his parents and they had a weekly pizza night.

Every Thursday was the same thing, we chose a spot to eat, ordered pizza and typically watched movies.

On this particular week, as indicated by the title, we chose Pizza Hut.

So we all eat our dinner, right? Everything is fine. I’m a little queasy, but that’s no big deal. I’ll just sleep it off.

3am rolls around. I am drenched in sweat. I feel like my abdomen is going to explode. I feel like I’m going to be sicker than I ever have in my life.

I hop out of bed as fast as my little disabled legs can. I run to our bathroom, the one that connects to our bedroom.

It’s fine. It’s safe. I made it to the toilet, so there’s nothing to worry about, right?

WRONG.

I sit down and frankly, I’m taking the most horrendous dump that I’ve ever taken in my life. Seconds later, I start vomiting.

Straight up out of the exorcist.

Projectile.

I start to feel incredibly light-headed. I am pouring sweat at this point.

It’s like a goddamn waterfall from my forehead, ass, and mouth all at once.

I think to myself

This is it

This is how I die.

I am going out Elvis style.

I am going to go out, covered in my own bodily fluids, in a room that’s also covered.

So, with no idea what to do, and convinced that these are the last 10 minutes of my life, what do I do?

I stand up.

I had to make it to my partner. If I’m going out like this, I at least needed to tell him—one last time—that I loved him.

I immediately fall over. My legs work less than they normally do.

I begin to army crawl, still covered in my own liquids, desperate to say my last goodbyes.

I make it to the bed, which is about 30-40 feet from our bathroom. But there’s one problem, it’s high up.

This bed sits about 3-4 feet off the ground.

My partner is a heavy sleeper.

I use all of my might, and I smack upwards in his general direction a couple of times with what I can only describe as a limp noodle of an arm.

He wakes up. He looks the most confused that I’ve ever seen him. I tell him

“I’m dying and I needed you to know that I love you”

This man is still 1/2 asleep.

He does not have a working nose and it is dark.

He does not know the horrors in the next room.

He shines a phone light at me, catching a small chunk of the crime scene in the background. He tilts the phone past me.

There is a trail. I am whiter than I already am.

Translucent.

I look as though literal death has come to take me away.

He tries to help me to my feet.

I am too weak, for I am dying. I tell him so.

He goes to the bathroom, as I am fading in and out of consciousness. I am seeing the light.

It is important to note here that I am still shitting. I have been this entire time.

At this point, he’s panicking.

He calls out to his parents. His mother meets him at the door.

“It can’t be that bad,” she remarks, “why does Vee need to go to the hospital?”

She peers around him into the room.

I am naked and I am covered in fluids. The bathroom looks like a bomb went off.

“Oh,” she says. She asks no further questions.

My partner helps me get dressed. We walk across the house to the garage.

I am still shitting.

We make it to the car. I have a towel under me. It does not matter.

For the ride over, I kept apologizing.

All the windows were down and that didn’t matter either.

We make it to the hospital. They give me medication to make me stop shitting myself and they give me anti-nausea meds to stop the puking.

They give me IV fluids for dehydration.

They couldn’t tell me what was wrong with my stomach.

They remarked “oh, it’s probably food poisoning or something”

They tell me that I need a CAT scan.

And they didn’t find anything for my stomach. But they did find something.

The doctor walks in…

“Hey,

Did you know you have a hip tumor?”

I did not.

———————————————————————

———————————————————————

X-Ray of tumor after it was removed:

It was non-cancerous. I am now filled with bone cement, a metal plate, and several screws.

[snowdust64]

Ouma Great War Chronicles - Episode 7: Whatever it Takes to Deliver Us Back

==========

T/N: There are a lot of sound effects and animations in this episode, and I note some but not all of them to serve as timekeeping landmarks. Some translation notes are included at the end.

==========

Narrator:  For the sake of analyzing the Treasure Chests of Lunacy, Kaida invited Tsubaki as a joint researcher. A few days after this, the trio of Nagao, Genzuki, and Kaida came to the location that Genzuki heard from the God of Blacksmithing was where a Treasure Chest of Lunacy would be placed, to stop the activation of the Treasure Chest of Lunacy, and to catch the culprit who was setting them up.

(demons growl and moan)

Nagao:  Oi oi, is this even possible? It’s downright teeming with demons.

Genzuki:  Ahaha… We certainly didn’t anticipate this. Will we make it back home alive?

Nagao:  Well, I’ll pull off whatever it takes to deliver us back.

Genzuki:  Wah, Kei-kun, so cool ─

Nagao:  Why was that monotone?

Kaida:  Putting jokes aside, if a Treasure Chest of Lunacy is activated in a place like this, it won’t be something to take lightly.

Nagao:  It wasn’t a joke, but I agree with the rest. But, as expected, I just can’t settle down. Can I slay them all right now?

Genzuki:  I understand how you’re feeling, but hold it in, Kei-kun. The goal this time is to stop the Treasure Chest of Lunacy from activating, and catch the culprit setting it up.

Nagao:  … I know. But they really are teeming.

Kaida:  There’s the nature of an exorcist.

Genuki:  !  Both of you!

Nagao:  Yeah, someone’s coming.

on screen:  shadowy figure appears

Kaida:  There’s not enough light to see their face clearly...

on screen:  a glowing chest

Genzuki:  That’s ─!

Kaida:  No mistake, it’s a Treasure Chest of Lunacy.

Nagao:  Meaning that guy’s the culprit, confirmed. Let’s go –

Genzuki:  Wait! If we dash out from here, the demons will notice us too. Let’s move covertly.

Nagao:  Then, I’ll go alone. In case of any contingencies, I’m counting on you to have my back.

Kaida:  Understood. Be careful.

Nagao:  (This guy is well-built… maybe 10 cm taller than me. Against an adversary like this, I must have the first strike – !)

??? :  …!

Nagao:  (What, he noticed me!?)

sfx:  whoosh

Nagao:  Moreover, he swung a kick!

Genzuki:  Kei-kun! Defense talisman!

Nagao:  That’s a big help, thanks, Toujirou!

(shadowy figure moves aside)

Kaida:  I won’t let you get away. Sui (water), ju (soft), shin (submerge), man (full)… ka (vortex)!

??? :  !

Kaida:  And from there… Under my family name “Kaida,” call forth jutsu of demon retreat – fu (seal), kai (partition), sho (illuminate), kyo (boundary) ─ mei (hell), zan (rend)! *

??? :  …

sfx:  slashing

Kaida:  A sudden slash!?

Nagao:  This guy… he’s fast! He broke through the jutsu with iai technique! **

Kaida:  Eh, he drew a sword just now!?

Genzuki:  Oh no! The demons have noticed us!

(shadowy figure fades)

Nagao:  Tch, so this is as far as we get. I’ll take on the demons! You two retrieve the Treasure Chest of Lunacy!

Genzuki:  Got it!

Kaida:  Understood!

scene reset  (same location)

Kaida:  Under my family name “Kaida,” call forth demon-retiring jutsu – sei (restrain), mei (illuminate), atsu (pressure), tai (lull)!

Genzuki:  Demon-suppressing talisman!

Nagao:  Haaahh!

sfx:  slashing; roaring; collapsing

Kaida:  Hah, hah… With this, we’ve defeated all the demons, right?

Genzuki:  Mn… hah, hah…

Nagao:  Hah, hah… Aah, defeating the demons is good and all, but I’m steadily getting more and more frustrated. That guy didn’t even draw his sword… dammit.

Genzuki:  Kei-kun…

Kaida:  He sensed Nagao’s presence right away, and with just physical skill and raw strength he shook off our techniques. This is no ordinary person.

Nagao:  But next time we’ll definitely catch them.

Kaida:  Mn.

Genzuki:  … (Aside from that, the culprit’s presence seemed to resemble something…)

Narrator:  One week later ─ The three of them had a discussion in the cafeteria again.

Nagao:  Hah, somehow it feels like the first time in a long while that I’m having a meal at my leisure.

Genzuki:  The Exorcism Bureau has been deploying continuously for all this time, huh.

Nagao:  Yeah. But things have calmed down recently.

Kaida:  Now that you mention it, it does look like no more incidents of mad transformations have happened since then.

==========

Translation notes

*  The final syllable ‘zan’ (kanji: 斬) classically means to execute someone by the slash of a blade. It has a connotation of carrying out righteous judgment.

**  Looked this up on Weblio: iai-nuki is an ancient technique of instantly drawing a sword from seated position to cut down an opponent.

[yessadirichards]

Fewer stars, more scandal at 80th Venice Film Festival

Eric RANDOLPHPARIS

The Venice Film Festival celebrates its 80th edition this week, but a Hollywood strike means many stars may be missing, leaving the spotlight to controversial directors like Roman Polanski and Woody Allen.

The festival, which kicks off on Wednesday, has become a key launchpad for Oscar campaigns, helped by glamorous shots of stars arriving by gondola.

But an ongoing strike by Hollywood actors and writers, the biggest industry walk-out in more than 60 years, means most are banned from publicity work.

Missing from their Venice premieres will be Emma Stone, who plays a Frankenstein-like creature in "Poor Things", and Bradley Cooper, who directs and stars in "Maestro" about the legendary conductor and composer Leonard Bernstein.

Adam Driver and Penelope Cruz, who play the leads in the biopic "Ferrari" from director Michael Mann ("Heat"), have an exemption from the Screen Actor's Guild (SAG-AFTRA) because the film was made outside the studio system, but may still stay home in solidarity.

Nonetheless, the films are still showing and many top-name directors are due to attend as they compete for the top prize, the Golden Lion, to be announced on September 9.

Sofia Coppola presents another biopic, "Priscilla", about Elvis Presley's wife, while David Fincher returns to the Lido with "The Killer", more than 20 years after "Fight Club" was loudly booed at the festival only to become a cult hit in the following years.

The only major casualty of the strikes has been "Challengers", a tennis romance starring Zendaya that was set as the opening night film but has been delayed to next year.

With star gossip at a minimum, a lot of attention risks being absorbed by the inclusion of Woody Allen and Roman Polanski in the out-of-competition section.

Allen, 87, was investigated for an alleged assault on his adopted daughter and cleared by police in the 1990s, but that has not been enough for many in the MeToo era, and he has been effectively blackballed by Hollywood.

Polanski, 90, remains a fugitive from the US over a conviction for raping a minor in the 1970s. The victim has long since forgiven him, but he faces other assault allegations. The festival says he is not attending.

French director Luc Besson ("The Fifth Element"), who was recently cleared of rape allegations, is in the main competition with "Dogman".

Festival director Alberto Barbera defended their inclusion, telling Variety that Besson and Allen had been cleared by investigators: "With them, I don't see where the issue is."

He acknowledged it was more complex with Polanski, but said: "I am on the side of those who say you have to distinguish between the responsibilities of the individual and that of the artist."

He says Polanski's "The Palace" is full of "grotesque and surreal characters and aims to satirise humanity", and compared Allen's "Coup de Chance", his 50th film and first in French, to his earlier "Match Point".

Meanwhile, there are also out-of-competition premiers for a 40-minute Wes Anderson film, "The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar", based on a Roald Dahl tale, and a new feature from indie favourite Richard Linklater, "Hit Man".

"The Caine Mutiny Court-Martial", the final film from William Friedkin ("The Exorcist"), who died this month at 87, is also playing out of competition.

Hollywood actors went on strike in July after talks to reach a new deal with studios failed, joining writers who have been striking since May.

Their demands focus on dwindling pay in the streaming era and the threat posed by artificial intelligence.

[beef-brisket]

Velvette screamed as a rush of electricity crashed through her. She was so sure she didn't miss any steps or did anything wrong. So, why?

Adam: I'm fucking bored of this, shit. But don't think that means I'm done having fun with you~.

Velvette screamed until the thin wires that held her limbs snapped, making her crumble to the floor. Her whole body started cramping and spasming. She's never felt pain like this.

Velvette: P-Please- I'm-.

Adam: "Not afraid of me," right?

Velvette felt tears well up. She didn't say that. She swore she didn't. She may have thought it a few times, but she never said. Never.

Velvette: No- wait- I-I never said that-! I-I think- we could work togther-!

Adam: Work together? Hm. Interesting, but sorry, love. I'm more of the 'work alone' type.

She wanted to run, or at least back away, as the giant man stalked towards her.

Velvette: Wait! No- wait! I-I know who you are! I-I know!

That made Adam stop, but it didn't have the reaction she wanted. Instead of anger or fear, all she saw was a sickening smile spread across his face. His sharp teeth and golden eyes really stood out.

Adam: Yeah? Fuck, go one bitch. Have a shot. Who am I~?

Velvette: Y-you're Adam, right? The- first man- the exorcist-?

Adam laughed: Huh, shit. That's pretty good. How did yoj come to that conclusion~?

Velvette: ...I based a runway like off you. I used- to watch you... during the exterminations. I... I thought... you were amazing-.

Adam: I AM amazing, bitch. So, what drew you to me~.

Velvette couldn't believe this. Was the only way to get a break in her torture- her death, was to talk about hoe great this fucking guy is?

Egotistical bastard.

Velvette: W-Well... if you must know...

Too bad for Adam, there's only one bad bitch in this room, and it isn't him.

Velvette smirked: It was when you got your face beaten in, like you were the easiest fucking kill- but you weren't even good enough for that- someone little bitch- who didn't even know who you WERE fucked your back over with a letter opener-!

Velvette gurgled and clawed at her throat. One moment in was fine, and the next, it was clawed wide open.

She screamed and cried, or tried to at least. It was only the most sickening sounds coming from her mouth.

The next thing she knew, she was pushed onto her back, a heavy boot on her chest, threatening to crush it.

Adam: Listen here, you muppet looking CUNT! I fucked up nearly every motherfucking overlord in this SHITHOLE! I bashed your kings fucking FACE IN! I bet him! Me! THERE IS NO ONE STRONGER THAN ME IN THIS FUCKING REALM! You're NOTHING! I'm EVERYTHING!

Her world went dark when that boot stomped on her chest, breaking and crushing her lungs and ribs.

When she finally healed and started to come to, the o Lt thing she saw was a silver dagger getting stabbed into her eye.

Adam: You like that little cyclops bitch that much?! You can fucking look like her!

She screamed one last time until that bread went through her skull, finally ending her pain.

Adam was seething. How fucking dare she. He could destroy every ring in Hell if he wanted, and there was no one there to stop him. No one.

Storming out, Adam made a beeline for the hotel. He was done with these motherfucking sinners not getting the fucking message.

-

Everyone was huddled in the lobby, tidying their beds up from another night together. Even Vaggie was there, her eyes completely blindfolded.

Lucifer handed out some pancakes for everyone.

Finally, after weeks of fear, everyone was starting to be themselves again.

Or at least, that's what it seemed, until Charlie screamed and pointed at the doorway.

When everyone saw what she saw, they quickly huddled together. Screaming at the giant man in the doorway to stay away.

Lucifer stood in front of the group, doing his best to hide his fear. And he was doing great until he saw the amount of blood on Adam and the crazed look in his eyes.

Adam: ...Lucifer...? I'm here to kick your ass again. And this time, I'm parading your fuckjng broken and bloody body around this FUCKING Ring- so everybody knows not to FUCK with me!

Tormentor of souls au

Darkness surrounded him like a blanket. Only he was no way comfortable or felt safe. He felt fear grip him like iron as he tried to make even a sliver sense of his situation. He could barely a muscle, if he had any muscle to pull. It felt like he had nothing to move, was this what happened to the souls he exorcised? 

Were they to end up here for eternity, slowly being drove insane with nothing but your thoughts to keep you company? Adam couldn’t even try to open his mouth to speak, well he did try, but the only words that would escape from him were from within his mind. In his mind he sighed, he was just so tired, he didn’t have any strength to fight, to argue that he shouldn’t be here. Yet what exactly was the point? He’d only tire himself further out. 

He had to admit it, he was stuck here, for all eternity. Much the same as a sinner. 

That was when he saw it a flicker of light. Not just any light, a pure white light. A light that was so familiar, one that brought him joy when it spoke to him in his booming voice.

His creator 

“GREETINGS MY SON. IT HAS BEEN SO LONG SINCE I HAVE LAST SPOKE TO YOU AND FOR THAT I APOLOGIZE”

Adam didn’t care he was just so thankful to be in his creator’s presence.

“MY SON I KNOW THAT YOU HAVE LIVED A LIFE OF HARDSHIP AND THAT IT DID NOT STOP EVEN WHEN YOU PERISHED.” 

He tried to not flinch at that. Thinking about his first life brought too many unpleasant memories.

“THAT IS WHY IT BRINGS ME PAIN TO ASK YOU OF THIS, BUT I NEED YOUR ASSISTANCE ONCE MORE. I KNOW OF WHAT YOU HAVE DONE THESE PAST FEW CENTURIES, AND I HAVE TO SAY THAT IT WAS NOT THE SOLUTION”

Adam could not believe what he was hearing. His own creator believed that they, the murderers and rapists, deserved to be redeemed!?

“HELL IS MEANT TO BE A PUNISHMENT, ETERNAL TORMENT OF THE SINS LUCIFER CORRUPTED WITH HIS WAY OF FREE WILL. HOWEVER MANY OF THEM DON’T SEE IT THAT WAY. TO THEM HELL IS MERELY A PLAYGROUND WHERE RULES NO LONGER MATTER. I HAVE SEEN TRUE MONSTROUS ACTS THE WICKED HAVE BROUGHT WITH THEM FROM LIFE. THEY CARRY IT MOST OUT ON THE TRUE CITIZENS OF HELL, THE ONES THAT HAD NO SAY IN BEING THERE OR NOT.”

The hell born, Adam thought taking in the Lord’s words

“I KNOW I AM NOT THEIR CREATOR, NOR DO THEY CALL ME FATHER, BUT I HAVE HEARD THEIR PLEAS FOR HELP TO BE SAVED FROM THE ACTS OF THE WICKED, OF ALL WICKED. UNFORTUNATELY THERE IS NOTHING I CAN DO ABOUT OTHER PEOPLE BORN DOWN THERE, BUT I CAN STOP THE SINNERS FROM HURTING THEM AND THAT IS WHERE I NEED YOUR HELP”

Adam had never put much thought into the hellborn. To him they were simply there and as long as they got in his way during the exterminations they weren’t a problem. There was the princess, but he didn’t really count her. He was curious however as to what the Lord wanted him to do.

“THE SINNERS NEED PUNISHMENT, AND THE HELL BORN NEED PROTECTION. YOU CAN BE THEIR PROTECTOR BY BECOMING THE PUNISHER.”

 With a simple snap of his creator’s fingers Adam felt something shift within him, in his very essence he changed. A warm feeling engulfed him whole and then he knew no more.

((Oh shit- I love everything about this! God needs to fuck off and let our boy rest!

Sorry this took me a hot second to get to- and I hope my reply does yours justice 😝))

Charlie is in full work mode and has been since the failed extermination ended. Since finding out Sir Pentious ended up in Heaven.

For months, she had been working hard. It was so hard that she somehow missed the latest gossip going around the Pride Ring.

Sinners ending up missing, only to resurface months later completely different. Scared. Traumatized.

Many didn't think much of it. This is Hell. There's always some crazy bastard out there doing shit.

But, it was when they became too scared to even function, too scared to ever be normal again, too scared that they would rather turn an angelic blade on themselves than to live with the possibility of going through whatever it is they've gone through.

Charlie was actually getting quite concerned. Especially when she heard Angel talking about it one night at Husks bar.

Angel: I fucking tell ya, kitty. People a shit scared. I've never seen the clubs so empty!

Husk shook his head: Must be the worst of the worst, huh?

Angel scoffed, downing his drink: Nah, babe. It's something else. It ain't no sinner.

Husk: Hellborn?

Angel: Those guys are freaky. Don't get me wrong, but their not THAT freaky. I had a client who said he was taken for three months. Three. That's fucking child's play. But the shit he said happened to him... fucking skinning, to pouring acid down his throat. Fuck mam, the sick ficker even dug around I'm his muscle and tendons!

Angel shook his head: There's something going on... even Val has lowered the workload.

Husk: Pft. Fuck. That's how you know it's serious.

Angel: Damn fucking right.

Charlie stood at the top of the stairs, listening to Angel's story. She was shocked but not surprised. She wasn't sure why this person has the sinners so scared, but sury it's nothing new.

She probably should make sure Al isn't behind this. She's only heard a few tales of his exploits so she wouldn't put it past him.

-

Alastor: Hm. So you've heard the rumors, too. While I'm flattered, I don't appreciate being confronted in such a way.

Vaggie: Just- fucking answer her, Alastor.

Alastor sighed, leaning on his cane: No, it's not me. I've been too busy here! And my kills stay dead when I'm finishing them~.

Charlie wasn't sure if she liked that answer, but it was good enough.

She apologized to Alastor, ams watched him leave.

Vaggie: ...I don't know, Charlie.

Charlie: I don't know either...

Vaggie: I'm sure it's nothing. Besides, you have more important things to deal with here, hun. You shouldn't get mixed up in sinner issues.

Charlie sighed: I know. I just... surely, it's a coincidence that this starts after the failed extermination... that was my fault. Simmered died because of me- I put my friends in danger! I feel like I owe it to everyone to at least try and solve it.

Vaggie smiled and pulled her girlfriend onto a soft hug.

Vaggie: I know you feel like that, hun. But you don't owe anyone anything... besides, if it's that bad, you could just ask Lucifer. He said he was looking for something to do.

Charlie: Hm... that's... a good idea, actually! I'll get dad on the case!

-

Lucifer: Me on the what now? Charlie, why should I care about whatever is going on with those sinners? Their... you know... sinners.

Charlie: Dad, please? Our guests are sinners. We need them to be safe. So please. Look into this for me? Even just a little bit?

Lucifer sighed. He really didn't want to do this. But, seeing the hopeful, pleading look on his daughters face, eventually changed his mind.

Charlie: Oh- thank you, dad, thank you!

Lucifer smiled as Charlie pulled into a hug. But when she felt and heard his back crack, she slowly put him down.

Charlie: S-Sorry dad!

Lucifer laughed through the pain: It's okay, Charlie - nothing I can't handle! I-I better start hunting a... whatever the fuck this is!

[deadgirlwalking91]

Scenario idea: Adam and Lute are sitting around chilling, Lute reading, Adam idly strumming his guitar. Then, out of nowhere, he starts to pick actual chords and starts to sing, "Blood of the Lamb."

Despite it being a pretty heavy religious song, he's clearly coming onto Lute doing so.

Hey, Anon.

Your wish is my command <3 I hope you enjoy.

Friday nights in had become a ritual of sorts for Lute and Adam.

It all started when he'd casually invited her back to his place one night after work. They'd been pouring through old Extermination records, trying to find evidence that Exorcists who wielded a sword had better results than those who preferred a bludgeoning weapon.

Lute normally loved administrative work and data collection, but this particular exercise had proven that paperwork could break her.

Adam had taken one look at her and declared that they were done for the week, and that she had no choice but to accompany him back to his apartment to wind down. According to him, the cure for being stressed and overworked was pizza and beer.

He wasn't wrong. The moment Lute took that first swig of beer, she immediately relaxed, feelings of stress and anxiety fading away fast.

That night, he'd carried her to his bed after they both fell asleep on the couch. It was the first time they'd slept next to one another, and when they'd woken up, Lute had found herself snuggled into the crook of his armpit, one hand flung possessively across his torso.

Neither of them ever spoke about it, but it soon became a tradition for them to spend Friday nights together. They always started with the celebratory clinking of beer bottles - a cheers to the end of the working week - and it always ended the next morning with them innocently tangled together under the bed sheets.

Sometimes, they'd find their own ways to relax in each other's company. Often, Adam would pull out one of his guitars and begin plucking away, humming melodically to himself as he played. Lute found it comforting to close her eyes and listen to him, often falling asleep to the sound of his music.

Eventually, she began packing an overnight bag to take to work so they could head to his place straight from the office without the need to bypass her house. She started taking whatever novel she was currently reading so that in those moments, when he'd start playing, she could read. It was like having her own personal sountrack to whatever story she was engrossed in.

This particular Friday night started out no different. The same celebratory clink of their beer bottles kicked off their evening, followed by their usual argument over whether to get pineapple on their pizza - Adam won that night, promising to personally pick it off Lute's slices for her.

He kept to his word.

Not long after, Adam had grabbed one of his many guitars and started jamming, often stopping and starting songs while he was in the middle of them. Lute took that as her sign to grab the novel she'd been reading and engross herself in the trashy romance that was playing out on the pages.

Stop. Start. Stop. Start.

"Are you going to actually finish a song tonight?" Lute teased, not bothering to look up from her book as she turned the page lazily.

"Shut it, 'tits," Adam growled playfully, poking her in the leg. She proceeded to nudge him back with her foot. "You want me to finish a song? I'll finish a song, alright. I'll finish it so hard it'll blow your fucking mind."

She said nothing, instead choosing to hum as she kept reading.

He repositioned himself, and Lute snuck a glance at him out of the corner of her eye. It was impossible to ignore how gorgeous he looked, out of uniform, concentrating as he hunched over his guitar.

The melody that he began playing was unfamiliar to her - which wasn't unusual. He often would perform songs that she didn't know.

Out of nowhere, he started singing, his harsh voice oddly tuneful: Are your garments all spotless? Are they white as the snow? Are you washed in the blood of the lamb?

Shaking her head, she returned to the comfort and familiarality of her novel. Something she knew. She furrowed her brows, trying to concentrate on the words in from of her. Is your soul all spotless? Is it clean as the snow? Are you washed in the blood of the lamb?

It was no use, he was too distraction. She shut her book and stared pointedly at him. "Adam."

He simply met her gaze responded with,

I am washed, yes I'm washed I am washed in the blood I'm all washed in the blood of the lamb

Closing her eyes, she sighed. Of all songs, why was this one making her feel warm all over, and why was her chest tightening? She'd been subjected to hundreds of Adam's private concerts.

Why was this one so different?

She felt him nudge her with his foot, and she looked upon him once again, this time embracing the way her body was reacting to his singing. His eyes were heavy with something she couldn't quite place, and she found herself scooting slightly closer to him. Almost like he was sucking her in.

Not breaking eye contact, he continued,

I'm all clean I'm all spotless I'm all pure like the snow I'm all washed in the blood of the lamb

With those lyrics, he stopped playing, setting the guitar down gently so that it leaned against the couch.

"Sorry, babe," he apologised, wrapping his arm around her shoulder. "Guess I got a bit carried away there."

Tentatively, Lute reached out a hand before laying it across his chest. She could feel his heartbeat thrumming away against the palm of her hand.

It was fast.

"Play for me again?" she asked softly, tucking her legs up underneath herself and leaning her head against his chest.

"Nah," he whispered, grabbing her hand and lacing their fingers together. "I'd rather do this."

Adam didn't pick up the guitar for the rest of the night. Instead, they remained intertwined on the couch together, talking softly amongst themselves.

When he eventually felt Lute's rhythmical breathing transform into soft snores, and she drifted off to sleep still in his arms, he bent his head down so that his lips hovered just above her ear and sang to her once more,

I'm all clean I'm all spotless And I'm pure like the snow I'm all washed in the blood of the lamb

[atveren]

Monstadt and Liyue boys: You fall asleep on them, and they fall asleep on you. Plus a bonus for some of them!

Diluc, Venti, Kaeya, Albedo, Chongyun, Kazuha, Childe, Aether, Xiao, Xingqiu, Zhongli, Scaramouche

No Warnings

Headcanons, Gender Neutral (They/Them, You/Yours)

A spoiler for We Will Be Reunited in Aether’s second story, but its vague

Diluc

You fall asleep on them

It was a tiring day of commisions and the like, but you wanted to spend at least some time with your boyfriend. He was rambling on and on about his day and other stressful things that you could’t help but doze off. It took him a bit to notice, but when he did, he blushed. He knew the sofa wasn’t the most comfortable and gently carried you to your room, placing you on your bed, tucking you in. As he turned to leave, you clung to sleeve, silently asking him to stay. He gently nodded, and crawled in next to you. You and him both slept better than ever before.

They fall asleep on you

It was basically the reverse, but you couldn’t carry him, and just curled up next to him, drifitng off with his arms wrapped around you. He looked calm, and at peace. He genuinely trusted you. When he woke up, he blushed. He didn’t move until you woke up, and if you did before him he would apologise, face still tinted red. You forgave him, giving him a soft kiss. It was moments like this he adored, just being able to show his soft side. It was also a small gossip among the maids for about two days, but he never found out.

Bonus: PDA opinion

Not a huge fan of PDA, but if someone’s getting too touchy, won’t hesitate to pull you close. And show off his vision. If he’s around Kaeya, like at the tavern, he doesn’t mean to be rude but may slightly ignore your affections, just to spare you both from the teasing. Afterwards, will kiss your forehead and apologise, explaining his reasons. You forgave him, as always. You did understand, Kaeya was a menace at times.

Venti

You fall asleep on them

You were rested in his lap, as he played his Lyre. The tune was so calming, you weren’t particularly tired but drifted off. It took Venti awhile to notice. Only when he asked if you wanted to go for a walk, and you didn’t reply, did he notice. The bard didn’t wish to wake you, and let the lyre vanish into the winds. He let out a soft ‘Ehe~’ before leaning against the tree, and playing with your hair. He did drift off soon, with a comfortable expression.

They fall asleep on you

It was a late night, and you were carrying Venti back from the bar, as he was far too drunk to get home on his own. You got home and changed, your boyfriend laughing and waiting for you. You walked over to him on the bed, before wrapping your arms around his small frame, and pulling him close. You talked for a bit to him, noticing he had fallen asleep when he cuddled closer and his breathing was softer. You gently laughed, kissing his forehead before falling asleep yourself.

Bonus: PDA opinion

Unless you don’t want it, there is a lot of PDA, he just wants everyone to know your his beloved! Will cuddle or hug or kiss you anywhere from on the streets, to the tavern to the middle of the forest. His favourite place to cuddle with you, is of course, Windrise. He loves to rest with you there.

Kaeya

You fall asleep on them

You couldn’t help it! Despite the captain’s cryo vision, he was warm. And comfortable. And..Well, you could go on and on with excuses. It happened when you two were cuddling after a pretty tough day for the both of you. You tried to stay awake, but failed. He noticed quickly, with a chuckle. “Oh? Falling for me yet again..Adorable.” He kissed your forehead, and stayed awake, mainly because he had more work to do. He decided to put you to bed first, not wishing you to be uncomfortable.

They fall asleep on you

Similiar to Venti, you had to walk him home from the tavern. You struggled a bit, as he was somehow more clingy than you expected. You did get home, but not without struggle. “(Name)~” Kaeya whined, as you lead him to your room, letting him stay there. You knew what he wanted, and stayed. You leaned against the headboard, Kaeya clinging to your side. You stroked his hair until he fell asleep. You fell asleep soon as well. He was embarrassed when you mentioned how he acted, but played it off like it was intentional.

Bonus: PDA opinion

Another one for PDA. He’s flirty in public, but will stop or tone it down if you ask, he doesn’t want to make you discomforted, after all. He wouldn’t hesitate to be even more clingy if somebody was bothering you. Kaeya loves you, and will never let you think otherwise.

Albedo

You fall asleep on them

Albedo knew you didn’t understand much about the experiment he was explaining, but was glad you listened to him. “And that’s how...” He trailed off, noticing you were asleep on his shoulder. “I suppose it was a boring topic for them..” He muttered with a smile. He didn’t want to wake you, knowing how important sleep was for you, so he gently pulled you in his lap and wrapped his arms around you. Resting his head on your shoulder, he too fell asleep. His body was warm, a difference to the cold air of Dragonspine, and a nice one. Or, maybe it was just the fire that flickered in the background.

They fall asleep on you

You had begged the Chief Alchemist to take a break, as he had been working for a week straight. Albedo had deniend the need for rest, but the bags under his eyes said otherwise. He eventually gave in and you pat the sofa, with a happy smile. It wasn’t long that you felt a weight against your chest, and saw he was asleep. “I told you so..” You said, rolling your eyes in a loving manner. You stayed awake to make sure he stayed asleep, and he did until the morning, where he thanked you. You could never get his sleeping face out your mind, it was absolutely precious, and it was nice seeing him so at ease.

Chongyun

You fall asleep on them

Chongyun was rambling about some encounter he almost had with a spirit, but you weren’t paying much attention, only listening to the sound of his voice. He noticed when you leaned against his shoulder, eyes shut and breathing soft. He didn’t want to move, despite him beginning to overheat. He tried to gently move you so he could get a popsicle, but when he heard you mumble, he froze. The exorcist didn’t move, at all. He waited until you woke up, which wasn’t pleasent and he didn’t feel the best afterwards. When you noticed, you were quick to apologise and grab him one, coming up with excuses. Chongyun forgave you, he couldn’t stay mad (not that he was), at you anyway.

They fall asleep on you

Xingqiu had pranked him with a far too spicy dish and you were thankfully there, able to quickly get the situation under control and help your boyfriend. You both went back to your place, as it was getting late. You were talking, and before you knew it he was passed out agaisnt you. You couldn’t blame him, it was rather stressful earlier and he was burnt out. You gently kissed his forehead before carrying him to your room and laying down next to him. When he woke up, he was blushing, but still was calm. It surprised him, a lot.

Kazuha

You fall asleep on them

Beidou has agreed to let you come with on the next voyage they went on, and so you were pretty happy. It was a few nights in, and you and Kazuha were talking. You were leaned against him, and he had an arm around you. It was late, and it was to be expected but you drifted off to the sound of his voice, the ocean crashimg against the boat and the wind. Kazuha noticed instantly, and smiled. Beidou walked onto the deck, about to say something when he gave a small wave, asking her to be quiet. She nodded, deciding it could wait and left you two alone again.

They fall asleep on you

You hadn’t joined them this time, waiting for your beloved instead. When he got back, you were both quick to leave and talk elsewhere, which was your home. You rambled about what had happened in the mean time, while he listened. After falling asleep, he looked even more peaceful. You were happy to rest with him, knowing it wouldn’t be too long before you both would leave again.

Childe

You fall asleep on them

The harbinger had gotten some free time, and was spending it dragging you through the harbour. It was a rather long day, and you were exhausted by the time you got home. You sat on the couch, with your beloved. You were talking for awhile before the exhaustion kicked in and you dropped against his shoulder. Tartaglia didn’t expect this, and shot up, assuming you were trying to attack him, (for some reason, maybe to keep him on guard.) That was not the case, and you were thrown to the floor because of physics, and hit it, harshly. He was embarrassed to say the least, and in your moment of exhausted anger, you did smack his shoulder. He found it fair. Childe was forgiven, but only because he let you sleep in his lap instead.

They fall asleep on you

Childe returned home after a long day of training new recruits. He curled up in bed next to you. You spoke for awhile, until exhaustion set in for him, and he fell asleep. You considered pettily waking him up, like he’d done to you, but when you saw his peaceful and loving expression, you couldn’t. You kissed his cheek before falling asleep as well. His arms wrapped more around you in your shared slumber, and he was grateful when he woke that you’d let him rest. He still felt bad about the other day, and was trying to make it up to you.

Aether

You fall asleep on them

Aether had invited you to the teapot, and you were in his room. Paimon was there too, but she was eating something in the kitchen area, leaving you two alone for now. It was awhile later that you had grown tired, and Aether had as well. He opened his arms and let you cuddle close. This was all fine and dandy until Paimon entered the room. “Aether! We’re out of sticky honey roast!!!” She mentioned, practically yelling. You let out a tired and confused mumble, being awoken by the yelling. Aether gently hushed you, and covered your ears. “Paimon, if you don’t shut up right now..I will tell Xianling to turn you into emergency food. That is a threat.” He said, his tone tired but harsh. Paimon squeaked and quickly left. You were both undisturbed for the rest of the night.

They fall asleep on you

Aether entered your home, and he seemed distraught. He explained everything that happened with his sister, and sobbed into your arms. You were worried, and let him cry it out. You noticed Paimon was no-where to be seem and assumed he’d asked to be alone. It took awhile, but his breathing slowed and he’d..well he’d cried himself to sleep. You were just glad he was mostly uninjured, gently stroked his hair, hoping to keeo him asleep. It worked, as he slept throught the night fully.

Xiao

You fall asleep on them

You had spent the day at the balcony of Wangshu Inn, waiting for you adepti boyfriend. It had been a slow day, but you hadn’t slept much and were tired. This didn’t stop you from offering a bright smile as your beloved appeared. You both talked about what things you’d seen recently, and as always he was a bit shy. You wished you could’ve told him that you were tired, but you didn’t want to waste what time you had with Xiao. It was well into the evening when you felt your tiredness kick in, and you fell asleep, against him. It surprised the Adeptus, and before either of you knew it, he vanished. You woke up instantly, and looked around for him. You sighed with a bit of disappointment, you wanted to apologise, and weren’t sure how.

They fall asleep on you

It was days later he made an appearance again, you rushed over to him, apologising on repeat. Xiao softly hushed you, guilt in his eyes. He’d spoken to Verr Goldet, and she’d told him the best course of action. He’d let you hold him, and both of you eventually drifted off, he apologised again in the morning. You’d already forgiven him. Plus, the fact he’d let you get so close and even hold him in his sleep was proof he trusted you.

Xingqiu

You fall asleep on them

It was an agreed date, you could rest and he would read. Plus, you’d be in each other’s company, which was great for the both of you. Xingqiu let you rest against him as he read, encouraging you to get the sleep you needed. You were a bit suspicious, assuming this would be some prank, but trusted him anyway. That proved to be a mistake, as when you awoke and walked back, you recieved odd looks. You didn’t understand until you got to your mirror, and saw the small doodles he’d drawn on your face. You were embarrassed, heavily. You swore to get your revenge.

They fall asleep on you

Xingqiu entered your home, it was a long day for him. All he really wanted was just to cuddle you and go to bed. You offered a sweet smile, scooching over and letting him lay next to you. After he fell asleep, you wondered on your revenge. It seemed fate had other plans as you fell asleep as well. When he woke up first, he’d expected you to have gotten some form of revenge, but noticing nothing had changed, he did feel a bit bad. When you awoke, he apologised and promised to let you rest normally next time. And when that time came, he kept his word. He didn’t want to upset you too badly, after all he was always big on chivalry.

Zhongli

You fall asleep on them

Zhongli spoke of more stories, history and the like, you normally loved listening to him and were always interested, but you’d stayed up a bit too late and were tired. You sat on his lap, as he told another one of the things that had happened in his long life. He noticed you fell asleep when your usual questions never came. He chuckled softly, kissing your forehead. He carried you to bed, and tucked you in. The archon though for a moment, before deciding to join you.

They fall asleep on you

The atmosphere was relaxed, and Zhongli wrapped his arms around you. You smiled, leaning against his chest. He rested his head on top of yours, and shuts his eyes. He didn’t mean to fall asleep, but he did. You didn’t mind, and let the archon rest. If anything, you were glad to be getting so much rest with him, something told you that others weren’t so lucky.

Scaramouche

You fall asleep on them.

It was rare moments you were able to rest with the harbinger, but you never took them for granted. You would clear your schedule when he was free, knowing Scaramouche was a busy person. The one thing you couldn’t change was your energy levels, and you were exhausted. The past week you’d done nothing but work, and rarely slept. But when he notified you he was free, you rushed over. You’d managed to hide your sleepiness so far, knowing how against physical affection he was. But your eyes grew heavy, and you dropped against him. He froze up for a moment, before shoving you off. He hadn’t even registered you were exhausted nor that you had fallen asleep. You blinked, staring at him befofe muttering a small apology and that you had to go, not wanting to bother him. He realised he messed up, and hoped to be able to let you forgive him.

They fall asleep on you

It was another time you were both thankfully free, and he had asked to meet at your place. You had nervously agreed. Upon entering, the first thing he did was apologise, which was a surprise in itself. Then after the small bit you talked, you noticed he seemed tired. He had mentioned he wanted to make it up to you...You moved closer, which confused the harbinger, before you wrapped your arms around him. He was about to protest, before you reminded him of what he had said. He nodded, with a sigh...but he had to admit, he was comfortable..and maybe this wasn’t so bad. His eyes eventually closed, and he had guessed you would shove him off like he’d done to you..but all you did was offer a smile, holding your boyfriend closer, before falling asleep yourself.