#..what a cruel guy..stole his wings and heart and everything >:( (but so hot of him at the same time so YES keep going jakey i support)

[jaetaimjadore]

SO MANY HOURS OVERDUE BUT SACRIFICE MV SUPREMACY YALL !!!!!!

[penwieldingdreamer]

The Devil’s Daughter

Finally a new part for you guys. Thanks so much for the amazing feedback, glad you like it. For those new to the story or just wanting to get tagged, either use the link in my bio and put your blogname in or put it down in the comments, an ask or a message. As always have fun and happy reading

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Warning: mention of blood, angst

Words: 2174

The water running over your cool skin was like heaven. It washed away the blood from your wounds and the dirt of hell, mixing together to a dark stain and running down the drain. Your arms moved around your body, not knowing if you were trying to hold yourself together or if you were waiting to burst into little pieces.

Tears ran down your face, mingling with the water from above as you replayed the last moments in the life you had known for millennia. “Father.” you sobbed, leaning against the tiled wall for support, hoping he would somehow answer you.

But the world around you stayed silent, besides the rushing water and the harsh words of the exorcist and his apprentice, trying to be quiet. Mammon had sent you to earth, cutting away your wings for the betrayal against your father, for trying to help John Constantine. He who always went against the devil’s rules was your greatest enemy and critic. And now you were bound to a mortal life, able to die from a mere cold.

When Constantine had found you, you had been chilled to the bone, not able to form a coherent thought. So he brought you back to his home, telling you to step under the hot shower and a hot meal waiting for you. It wasn’t often that the occult detective had a woman over, why he gave you an old shirt and sweatpants of his. Shutting off the water you grabbed the towel, putting it around your bare body. Carefully you made your way to the sink, wiping away the fog that had gathered on the mirror from the heat. Slightly turning around you looked at the wounds on your back, usually they would have healed by now, then you remembered you were human now. Your powers wouldn’t work, yet still you tried conjuring a flame that normally flickered in your hand.

But nothing happened, not even a spark. 

Another sob tore from your throat as you felt the last connection to your home the Underworld and to your father, the King of Hell leave you. You could never return, at least not alive and then who knows what Mammon already told him, how he already tarnished your name to get back in the Devil’s good graces. 

Sniffing loudly, you raised up again, brushing the tears from your cheeks and taking a deep breath. There was nothing you could do to change your fate now, you’d have to live among humans again, as one of them. Letting the towel drop to the floor, you dressed in the clothes John had given you, remembering the slight blush on his pale cheeks as he saw you in the light of the bathroom, bare as the day humans are born. He shook his head, probably trying to get rid of the image in his head. 

Were you so disgusting that he couldn’t even look upon you? 

Humans were funny creatures. 

Not even William had been that way. You remembered his caresses, letting his fingers glide along the hollow of your throat, your naked breasts on display for him to feast upon it with his hazel eyes before you engulfed him in your heated channel. The poet had often called you his muse, his angel, sometimes even a witch for you stole his heart with only one look and yet your fate as the Devil’s Daughter had followed you, pulling you away from love. 

“How bad can she really be?“ 

You knew that voice too well by now, Chas, John’s apprentice had been the first to convince John to at least let you shower before he again sent you on your way after answering his questions. Even though he had rescued you from dying out in the cold rain, Constantine was still wary. 

"You’re too confident.” John argued as you leaned against the doorway, trying to listen in on the conversation between the two men through the closed door. “She could tear apart mountains with her bear hands you know." 

The younger man scoffed. "Don’t be ridiculous, John.” As silent as you could you opened the door to the bathroom, only a little bit to look out at the companions. 

“It’s true though,” he pointed out, holding up a book. You didn’t recognize it and made a mental note to get back to that once you had the chance, maybe it could help you return. After all the exorcist owned it, so there must be something in there. “I read her story, Chas. Y/N isn’t as sweet as she seemed. She could burn down entire cities with a single glare, hell, the girl could topple entire nations without breaking a sweat!" 

The warlock stood up, moving over to his apprentice and put his hands on the younger man’s neck, making him look at John.  "Believe me when I say” he leaned down to growl at Chas. “She can kill you in a second, with elegance and beauty and grace and” You felt yourself lean harder against the door, trying to hear what John was whispering to his friend, when the wood gave way and moved to the side. 

He stopped abruptly. The room fell silent as all eyes looked to the door. There you were, dressed in the top large sweatpants, dragging across the floor and hiding your delicate feet and the shirt that was hanging down to mid thigh. 

You stumbled clumsily as you were only just able to catch yourself before you could crash to the floor. As you did so, a pinkish blush tinted your cheeks, embarrassed at your entrance. 

Chas raised a brow. “Grace, John?” Sarcasm dripped from every word as he looked at his boss and friend. The young man walked over to you, offering his hand so you would either not embarrass yourself further or so he could help you walk the last steps to the kitchen table. Sitting down you waited, the exorcist wanted to question you and you were eager to get it over with. 

Crossing his arms over his chest, the dark haired warlock turned his eyes on you, probably mulling over why you would send Chas back to the land of the living. 

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” he finally questioned, putting his hands on the table and leaning closer. “Why are you here?" 

Licking your lips you pushed your body back against the chair, trying to act confident after the little mishap. No reason to give them more ammunition against you. “Oh John, I thought you already know why I’m here?” you murmured, a smirk curving your lips upward. Chas stood next to you and out of the corner of your eye you saw him glancing at the occult detective, not sure what to do. The dark haired man across from him wasn’t to be trifled with and he didn’t like those that played games with him. 

His fist hit the top of the table, making you jump on the inside, while your body remained passive. Pupils dilated, you stared at the hand as if it were going to swing around and come near you. 

This guy really had some issues.

“I don’t like playing games, Y/N.” he growled, turning to his apprentice with a cocked head and a mirroring smirk on his face. “Isn’t that right Chas?”

“You - ugh.” you saw him swallow the lump in his throat, trying to speak around it. The poor guy looked like he might pass out, probably never seen John so angry before. “I don’t think you do.” he finally answered. “The last guy that played games was Balthazar.”

Of course you had forgotten about him. The demon had died by Constantine’s Holy Gun. For all you cared he could stay just the way he was, no need in crying for someone you hated since the beginning of time.

“Yes, Balthazar.” John began, scratching his chin, probably thinking back to the time he set the guy up in flames, watching his ashes falling to the ground. “Charming fellow, but such an asshole.”

Snorting, you crossed your arms over your chest, looking at the man in front of you. “He was everything but charming. On the asshole I agree with you.”

“Great, now that we’re on the same page, you going to tell me what’s going on?” he asked, taking the chair opposite from you and sitting down, tired of always being the one to do everything. “I just sent Mammon back to Hell, so why are you here now? You trying to rule Earth, too?”

Shaking your head, you waited, taking a deep breath before you finally opened your mouth again, trying to be as serious as possible. “No, and even if I did, why would I want to rule a world with you humans in it?” You shrugged, seeing a dark look cross John’s face, anger radiating more prominently from his body. “You have a knack for choosing the things that are worst for you, where's the fun in that?”

The exorcist in training raised his eyebrows at your words, feeling slightly relieved that he wouldn’t have to sent you back, too, at least at the moment. When you had sent him back he had gazed upon a soul that wasn’t entirely evil, there was light, too, and he wanted to discover it. “How did you get those wounds, was it” he paused, not sure what he wanted to ask. Could a father really be that cruel to his child?

Your hand reached over your shoulder, feeling the open wound through John’s borrowed shirt, knowing there would be blood again and in the near future someone should close them, for you weren’t sure that they would heal as fast as you needed them to. “It was Mammon.” Constantine looked at you, knowing only half the story of your hatred for your brother. “We have been rivals since the beginning of our existence.” you explained, a somber look on your face, taking a deep breath before continuing. “I was Father’s favorite because I followed his rules, did all that he wanted while my brother was the rebel, never listening and going against everything that he had told us. And now the time came and Mammon didn’t succeed in his plan to rule Earth.” Your eyes locked on the deep brown pools across from you, trying to see into his soul. “He was angry, like he always was, but when I returned Chas to the living, my brother knew that it was my time to rebel against the Devil, no longer abiding Hell’s law.”

There was a moment of silence when both men stared at you, not sure what to say. You could hear the rain still pouring outside and knew it wouldn’t let up anytime soon.

Chas had moved over to his friend and teacher, standing on his right side like the good student he was. “So - ugh - you said something about needing my help.”

Nodding your head you smiled at the younger man. “I did, yes, before I sent you back.”

“Yeah, all right,” John interrupted, holding his hand up. “We established that already, but what is it you need to do?”

Pulling your hand away from your shoulder you saw the blood on your skin, so red you couldn’t believe it really belonged to you. Blinking once, twice you tried to rearrange your thoughts, hearing the exorcist calling your name, the one he must have learned when he read the book - your Father’s book. “Huh?”

“I want to know what you need to do?” he asked again, his dark eyes turning stormy with every passing second. “I’ve been asking the same question over and over again, now be as kind as a demon can be and answer me.”

“Ah, yeah.” Giggling like a small child you held up your hand, showing the evidence of your still open wound to the two men. “I’ve never seen my blood, it’s so red.”

A loud clap sounded in the apartment, aided by the booming thunder that rolled over Los Angeles. “One more time, Y/N, I only give you one more chance to tell me or I’ll send your ass back to hell, not as a demon but as a human so you can suffer”

“The Nine Circles, I know.” You rolled your eyes at John like a petulant child. “I know how it works, I’m the one doing the torture there, remember?”

Chas snorted behind his hand, a lopsided smile on his face. “Well not right now, that’s for sure.”

A toothy grin on your on lips was his answer, before you turned to John, watching him intently. His body was rigid with anger, his musk radiating from every pore and you saw his fists clench in irritation. Finally relenting you gave him the answer he craved so much.

“I’m saving your soul.” you simply stated. “The Devil, my father, wants it and I’m going to help you so he won’t get his hands on it.”

Part 6

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