#DEEP DOWN WERE LONELY DEMONS FROM HELL

[godserene]

Scylla’s song from EPIC is stuck in my head

[explicit-tae]

Metamorphosis

An alternate world in which you encounter someone in the middle of the night - a man seemingly hurt. Much to your luck, you were extremely wrong. (Teaser)

@juju-227592 @seokjinkismet @bloodline1632 @darkuni63 @castlewolfsbane @babycandy111 @chimmy-licious @whipwhoops @chimmisbae

Word Count: 8.669

Warning: demon jungkook, unsolicited touching/kissing/groping, ass slapping, humiliation kink, degradation kink, public sex, dirty talking, slight coercion, fingering, oral (f receiving), spanking, unprotected sex, blood play/licking, biting, creampie, squirting,

Alternate Universe | Halloween Masterlist | PART 2

“W-What’s happening?” you want to hold your baby close to you once more, inhale the soft baby scent that even a half demon like he had. 

The six men surrounding you began to chant. You’re unsure what’s happening, but your heart sinks. There’s an uneasy feeling in your core.

“Jungkook…” you murmur, reaching out for him.

“It’s alright, my beautiful human.” Jungkook takes a step back with the baby, rocking him gently. “The bond has been completed. Now we can be together for eternity. In Hell.”

The room begins to shake, as if an earthquake was beginning to happen. The candles on the stone walls all fall, falling onto the ground and erupting around you.

“Jungkook!” you shout, your nails clenching the thin sheet surrounding you. What in the world is going on right now? 

“The pain will not last long, my beautiful human…” Jungkook trails off. His son begins to cry, feeling the distress coming from his mother - noted seeing as he was just as connected to you as he was to Jungkook. “...once it’s over, you can reunite with us in Hell. We will be waiting for you.”

You cross your arms in front of yourself firmly, shivering as the heavy rain fully engulfs you. You’re soaking wet and obviously pissed. You had gotten off of work late due to your boss being an asshole - you had stayed hours past your scheduled time out. Usually you would have not cared because extra hours meant extra money - but today was different. Every Friday you made it your mission to visit the cemetery and place flowers onto your mothers grave. Since you have gotten off of work late into the night, there was no time to stop for flowers (and it would be useless due to the rain).

Not only were you stuck in the rain, but you had to walk the entire way to the cemetery, then home. There were no buses running at this time and that meant you were in for an hour walk home after the already 30 minute walk to the cemetery. Let’s not forget that you saw your boss drive right past you without any eye contact.

The sky is dark and starless and there appeared to be little to no street lights on. The only light you do get comes from the moon high above. You've seen this before in a horror movie. A lone girl walking at night and bam, a killer chasing after her. Maybe you shouldn’t be thinking like this at this time, but you couldn’t help it. You were utterly hopeless with no one to call at this time - and even if you did, it’s pouring rain and your phone is tucked deep into your purse to not get it any more damage than it already was.

Your feet ached as you reached the cemetery. The rain was dying down, but you were already soaking wet and it was the least of your concerns now. It took a few more strolls until you reached the familiar headstone belonging to your mother. You sigh, dropping to your knees. You would regret it later while getting the mud stains off of your work clothes, but you were off the next two days and that was enough to not think about it further.

Visiting your mother was bittersweet. Sometimes you’d go just to pay your respects, other times you would speak as if she was there with you - talking about your day and what was new in your life. Now you were exhausted and your body ached, you remained silent and enjoyed the quiet company. 

You’re unsure how long you’ve sat there, but you noticed that the rain began to pick up once more. You knew by tomorrow, you would be sick and decided to call it a night. You’d probably even decide to visit once more when the rain cleared up the following day to bring the flowers you couldn’t bring today.

You got off of your knees, touching the gravestone lightly before making your way out of the cemetery. Your eyes remained forward as your feet strolled through the grassy field. You cursed at your luck - your clothing stuck to you and it was becoming uncomfortable to walk.Your shoes are covered in mud and grime and it’s nearly pitch black in said cemetery, the moon shining but so much.

Your feet halt in their tracks. You blink your eyes, zoning in on a figure not far away from you. The figure appeared to be hunched over, on their own knees. You clench your burse tighter, eyes blinking away the droplets of rain to try to get a better look. 

The moonlight shines off of the figure and it appears to glow - it’s a person, no doubt. You ponder if they’re there for the same reason you are - but not everyone would be caught in the rain paying respect to a deceased loved one, right?

You begin to step closer to the figure, unsure of what your body is doing. Your mind is screaming out alarm bells, that something wasn’t right and this could end up going completely wrong. 

The figure’s head lifts up, shining eyes glowing in the dark. A man, you note, just as drench in the rain as you were. Black hair sticks to his scalp and covers the majority of his forehead. Just as before, he appeared to be shining underneath the moonlight.

“Are you o-okay?” you stutter out, uneasy with the intense stare of the man. You can make out his features - chiseled jawline, sharp eyes and full lips. 

Your throat swallows a lump, body visibly stiffening upon noticing the man's eyes turning a shade of crimson. There was no possible way you were seeing things.

The man begins to lift from his knees and once onto his feet, your mind is screaming at you to run. The man is tall - and athletically built. He wore a suit of the sorts, completely black that it nearly disguises him in the dark scenery. 

Your heart is beating outside your chest, your mind coming back to reality when he begins to step closer to you. His feet snap a twig beneath them. You want to run - you can even feel the way your body jerks to do so, but you cannot.

What?

What the fuck?

Your heart beats even louder that even the pouring rain is no match for it. Your hands clench your purse tighter against you.

Breathe.

Breathe.

Why is it becoming harder to breathe?

Your throat tightens.

Your body begins to shudder, trembling. You’re unsure what in the world is going on with you right now. You’re trembling, feeling a rush of cold air go through you one moment and the next, you’re burning up. Your body temperature hightens, as if your blood is boiling at a rapid pace. Your clothes being wet and sticking to you already didn’t make anything better.

“You,”

Your eyes widen hearing the man's voice so clear - as if there wasn’t rain pouring. The wind kicked up, swirling around you, yet still, his voice was coherent. 

“are such a beautiful little human.”

Air filled your lungs once more and finally, you were able to breathe. Your mind swirls around on his words - a beautiful little human? What did that mean?

The man appears in front of you in a blink of an eye - how you didn’t fall back with a scream, you’re truly unsure. He’s tall, towering over you with his menacing gaze - eyes appearing even darker with a mysterious glint to them. Those eyes…they weren’t human, you note, they couldn’t be. Even if his overall appearance to be that of a human man - there was no man you met with such crimson eyes. 

The man offers you a smile - no, a smirk. It didn’t appear genuine like a smile someone would give you upon introducing themselves. This was a cunning one; devious.

You do not realize that you’ve dropped your purse until it hits your feet. Your body still feels hot, temperature rising every second. 

You feel the man's hand place itself against the skin of your cheek - they were calloused and even hotter than your own skin. His thumb traces the outline of your lips and you can hear he’s humming to himself.

“Your heart is beating so loud, beautiful. Are you afraid of me?” the man questions. “Do I frighten you? Or do I make you nervous?”

“Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.” you manage to say - more stutter. Breathing was difficult enough, but speaking appeared to be a battle. 

The man chuckles. “A prayer?”

“I will say of the Lord, “He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.” Surely he will save you from the fowler’s snare and from the deadly pestilence. He will cover you with his feathers-”

You feel your throat tighten once more, this time by the man's hands. He forces you closer to him. “Shut up.” he hisses. “Your prayers do not affect me, beautiful. It makes me want to ruin you even more.”

Your body was feeling weird. Goosebumps prickled your skin - you can feel it beneath your clothing - and your stomach was beginning to bubble. You closed your eyes to not look into his eyes, but even then you could see them glaring at you.

“Christ be with me, Christ within me, Christ behind me, Christ before-” your prayer is cut short when a pair of lips are against yours. You’re struggling against the lips, a muffled scream dying in your throat.

The man removes himself from you, but he holds you close. His hands wrap tightly beneath your chin. Your eyes squeeze shut, heart thumping rapidly.

“You can feel it, right, beautiful?” The man's words are sultry, coming out more as a moan than a regular statement. “I know what it’s doing to you. I know you can feel it…right here…”

You gasp, feeling a tense grip between your legs. Your eyes snap open, the crimson eyes .boring right into your own. You want to jolt away from his prying hands - to push this man, no, this monster away.

“I know, beautiful…” the man sing-songs. “...the arousal feels amazing. Doesn’t it feel like you’re sinning for me, Y/N?”

You froze. Your eyes couldn't even grow wider. This man knew your name.

This man, whoever he was, knew you. He knew you’d be here visiting your mothers grave - that or he followed you.

“Yes, beautiful, I know your name.” the man chuckles, his hand rubbing along your clothed head. “I’ve always known your name. I’ve known of your existence since the day you were born.”

This man wasn’t human - your heart told you. His eyes, his words; he was something otherworldly. 

“Dear Father, Thank You for protecting me. Thank You for the angels that you assign to watch over me. I can be at peace today knowing that my very life is in Your hands-”

You squirm feeling a sickly substance upon your cheek. The man is licking you now - up your jaw, to your chin and now your cheek. His fingers hold your face in place in a tight grip. He reaches your ear, flicking the lobe. “Praying won’t stop me from having you, beautiful.”

This monster was doing something to you and your body. You would never feel this way. He had you under a spell - your legs are clenching against his prying hand. You could feel a pool of slick sticking to your panties - and so does the man.

“I need your help in this battle. I cannot walk alone, Lord-”

“Ah, that prayer!” the man cackles. “You feel it running through you, beautiful. The lust. You’re moaning right underneath my hand, beautiful. I can smell the sweet smell of your pussy.”

The man's words are so vulgar that you’re unable to respond. His hands cup your clothed heat even tighter. The hand that once grips your chin now loosens so he could push you closer against him.

“You’re a monster.” you hiss - but it’s not a regular hiss. No, the man notes this tone. It’s a moan of disgust, but a moan nonetheless.

“I am.” the man chuckles. “A demon straight from Hell, beautiful.”

Your throat releases a scream when your hair is yanked backwards. Your eyes are towards the sky, the droplets of rain blinding your eyes. You continue to scream when you feel teeth against your neck, biting down.

You want to fight the man - this predator. This demon. Your prayers aren’t working and appear to be falling on deaf ears. 

The man shudders at the taste of your blood. So pure and not laced with any impurities. But he wasn’t here for your blood - no, this was just a part of the ritual. 

“My name is Jungkook.” the man purrs, licking his lips of your delicious blood. “Finally, you’re mine.”

You cough. Your hands are clenching onto Jungkook’s chest unwillingly. You’re trembling, eyes fluttering. 

“You’re afraid of me, beautiful?” Jungkook tsks. His tongue licks the wound of your neck, twirling it up to your chin and to your lips. He presses an open mouth kiss onto your lips and moans. 

“I’m not yours.” you wheeze out.

“Oh…” Jungkook could only laugh. “...but you are, beautiful.”

Jungkook’s hand squeezes your ass. “I can smell your arousal. You’re so wet for me, Y/N. You’re clenching and unclenching around nothing.”

You feel ashamed by how true Jungkook’s words were. You want to cry out - you didn’t belong to this demon! You were a part of your local Church and attended said church with your mothers for years. You prayed constantly, remained God as your main priority and prayed away whatever petty sins you committed. 

“You belonged to me the day your mother gave birth to you, my love.” Jungkook’s hand pulls at your clothes. Your shirt rips in seconds, revealing your bra beneath. “That was part of the deal, after all.”

Deal?

Your hands grasp Jungkook’s wrist when his hands tug along your pants. You didn’t match his strength, and like your shirt, your pants are ripped to pieces. 

“I won’t submit to you, demon.”

Jungkook wants to coo at your cuteness. No matter how many times you denied him, he wouldn’t listen. You were going to be his regardless of what you felt - he had waited decades to get what he was promised. You had no skill, will or strength to deny him anything - you were already aroused. Soon, you would be begging for him and he would give you what you’ll be begging for.

You are turned away from him and flipped. Your face meets the muddy ground. You squirm when you feel your hips being lifted by Jungkook’s arm. The position is filthy and you want to be removed from this humiliating state.

Jungkook marvels at the sight of you - face down, ass up. So cute and exactly how you were expected to be. One hand grips your ass, gently rubbing before he brings his hand back and slaps it roughly.

You scream once more at the impact, and again and again. Jungkook continued, crimson eyes darkening at the sight of you squirming beneath him. 

“P-Please stop!”

Jungkook hums. “Why?” He slaps your ass once more, the sound like a melody to his ears. His hands trail between your legs to rub gently. “You’re so wet for me.”

Your eyes squeeze shut, teeth biting your lips to repress a moan. You can feel yourself grow wetter at the second and that’s what frightens you. You didn’t want to fall into temptation due to the demons hold against you.

“Let’s see just how filthy you are, huh?”

“N-No!”

Jungkook fingers hooks between your panties. He pushes them aside and finds his mouth watering. “Such a whore you truly are, beautiful. So wet and clenching around nothing.”

You couldn’t help the groan that comes from your throat when he rubs a thumb against it. Your thighs quiver to close, but Jungkook only slaps your throbbing ass once more to punish you.

Jungkoom continues to rub along your clit, fingers sliding between your folds effortlessly. He can feel his pants tightening at just the sight of you.

“So wet.” Jungkook grunts. He smirks, fingers dangerously close to your opening. “I can just slide…”

“N-No!” you gasp, but even with your pleas, your legs widen for him. 

“...right in.” Jungkook enters two fingers inside of you. So warm and wet - and inviting. He pumps his fingers inside, marveling at how you take him so well. “You’re milking my fingers, beautiful. Good little whore you are, huh?”

You shake your head, eyes squeezing shut. 

Why?

Why were you moaning for this demon? Why was your body not cooperating with your brain? Why were you so wet and aroused with such sinful acts?

“J-Jungkook…please!”

Jungkook groans. “That’s right, beautiful. Just give in.” he murmurs, his fingers picking up the pace. “It’ll be over if you just submit to me.”

“N-No…” You don’t want to moan any more. You can feel a familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach.

Jungkook removes his fingers from inside of you. He doesn’t allow you to fall forward. He lifts you and presses you against him. “Taste yourself.” he hisses and before you can protest, he enters two of his fingers inside of your mouth.

Your tongue swirls against his fingers unwillingly, your juices hitting your tongue. 

“I wonder if you taste as divine as you smell, beautiful.” Jungkook whispers in your ear, popping his fingers from your mouth. “Give me a taste.”

“N-No…”

Jungkook hums. “No?”

You nod your head. 

“Then why are you leaning against me, beautiful? Why are your hips jerking for more pleasure?”

Jungkook flips you once more. He’s laid against the ground and has you hovering above him. You’re firmly in his grasp, unable to escape. His teeth - so sharp and canine like - bite at your underwear until they’re as ripped as your shirt and pants were. 

You gasp when Jungkook places you on his lips. You’re sitting directly on his tongue, palms back against his abdomen for balance as he licks between your folds. 

Jungkook grunts. “So sweet, beautiful.” he murmurs before going back to ravishing you. 

Your eyes are unable to remove themselves from the sight before you. Jungkook’s tongue - long with and split at the end, rapidly lick upon your clit and between the folds. You could no longer hide your moans, allowing the pleasure to run through you.

This was wrong.

This is a demon - no matter how attractive he may be, this was a demon.

You consider yourself a child of God, fully committed to your faith.

But Jungkook using his tongue to pleasure you felt far too amazing to not moan - too amazing to protest his advances any longer. And, as sad as it sounds, far too amazing for you to utter the word of God in hopes of stopping him.

Jungkook’s nails dig into the skin of your inner thigh. Your scent intoxicates his mind, your slick sliding against his tongue. Finally, you were his - and now you weren’t refusing him. Your moans are loud - even with the rain starting up once more. You were giving in to your rightful urges as his.

Jungkook’s eyes flicker to your face. Such a beautiful face contorted with pleasure. Mouth agape and moaning with pleasure, the droplets of rain trailing down your skin. It glistens beneath the moonlight.

“My beautiful human.” Jungkook growls. His tongue swipes at your clit once more. “Pleasure yourself against my tongue.”

Jungkook slaps your thigh in encouragement. He wants you completely submerged in pleasure that you would willingly participate in.

Your hips jerk forward and onto his tongue. A deep moan comes from your throat and you now find yourself thrusting onto Jungkook - a demon. Your eyes squeeze shut, wanting nothing more than to feel your release.

Jungkook’s hands roam your body, tongue laying flat while you use him. They trail up your thighs to your hips, wrapping around them to encourage you to go faster. He then slides them up your sides to grasp your breast from your bra. He squeezes them, pinching the sensitive bubs of your nipples.

“J-Jungkook, I-I can’t take it!”

Jungkook pinches your nipple once more. He clamps down onto them so hard that you scream out, lifting yourself from his tongue, juices releasing.

And Jungkook’s laps every drop, a groan rumbling deep within his soul.

Whatever soul Jungkook had deep within Hell that was.

You fall limp against his legs, legs quivering.

“My poor beautiful human.” Jungkook moves your body so that he is on top of you. “Came so hard that you can barely function.”

Jungkook leans down to swipe his tongue against your cheek once more, the reason you’re unsure of. 

“I’m going to make you cum over and over again.”

The rain falls even harder, but the majority of it is hidden beneath Jungkook’s body. He kicks off his pants along with his underwear.

You can’t see it, but you feel how large Jungkook is when he forces himself inside of you. You feel like you’re being stretched to the max. Your arms wrap around his neck tightly, breathing hitching.

“Beautiful human…so tight.” Jungkook growls. “Made just for me. My perfect little human.”

Jungkook doesn’t allow you the luxury to adjust to his size. He thrusts deeply inside of you, cracking his hips harshly. Your back hits against the muddy dirty roughly with each thrust. You were going to be filthy once this ended - if it ever did. This was a demon here with you? Did a demon’s stamina ever go out? It wasn’t like he was human.

“Jungkook, please!” you plead with him, but Jungkook doesn’t want to hear it. His teeth clamp down onto your skin, biting it harshly enough to release blood. “I-I can’t handle-”

“You can!” Jungkook hisses. He leans back to admire your disheveled appearance. You were covered in mud, blood and soaking wet. Your hair is sticking to you and your eyes are struggling to stay open. But to him - you were perfect. “Finally mine.”

There’s a bulge in your stomach, reminding you just who you were fucking. Jungkook is a demon.

A demon.

You were going to Hell surely.

There’s blood trailing down your thigh, but still Jungkook refuses to halt his abusive thrusts.

“Your soul, your mind, your heart and your body belong to me.” Jungkook growls, appearing utterly animalistic. “All mine, Y/N. My beautiful human. And all it took was a deal from your father.”

Your father?

You didn’t have a father - physically. You were raised with two mothers; when you grew up you never had a reason to look for who your biological father was. You asked your mothers, sure, but it was stated he was someone who provided them sperm and nothing more.

“He got what he wanted and in return…”

Jungkook flips you onto your knees. He wraps an arm around your neck and enters you once more. He continues the brutal pace, skin slapping and echoing off of the trees. You’re not sure if you were going to survive this. Your insides hurt - even if it came with brief pleasure. Your body was aching just as bad and Jungkook showed no chance of stopping.

“...in return…I got you, beautiful human of mine…” Jungkook grunts. “...you’ll be coming back home with me to Hell.”

It was your alarm that had woken you up that following morning. You jerked upward, eyes scanning the room. Your room.

You were in your room.

You inhaled deeply and exhaled just the same. Your ears are ringing and your fluttering eyes are attempting to adjust to the sunlight coming from your bedroom window.

Your aching legs manage to move. You swing them around your bed and lift yourself. You managed to make it to your mirror and you gasped.

You weren’t dirty nor covered in mud like you expected. That couldn’t have been a dream - everything felt far too realistic to be one. You were intimate with a demon - he had told you that you were his because of a father you never met.

Your eyes scan the scars and bruises littering your body. There’s hand marks upon your throbbing skin, one around your neck and two on both sides of your waist. You can see the bite marks that drew blood on your neck and another between your thighs.

You want to cry, but felt that even that would be hypocritical. You allowed a demon into your body - to have something precious that should have belonged to your human partner. You have learned from an early age that demons were tricksters and you had fallen into their trap.

You shower until the hot water runs cold - and even then you did not want to remove yourself. You washed your skin countless times in hopes to rid yourself of the sick feeling, but it never left. You could feel his hands on your body now as if he was here - his teeth and his tongue grazing along onto your skin.

Your mind betrayed you as did your body. There’s flashes replaying the long night Jungkook had bestroved for you. How he had taken you so roughly against the cemetery ground, both of you covered in blood. How he had flipped you and taken you against a tree, allowed you on top of him - almost every inch of the area you had been fucked on.

You clench your legs together and clench your fists. You dried your body, trying to rid your thoughts of the sinful encounter - but they wouldn’t leave. You were beginning to feel the uncomfortable throb between your legs once more.

Pray.

You had to pray. 

You dressed in fresh clothing and went towards your vanity. Your rosary would be there. You grasp it in your hands, ready to send a prayer when the rosary begins to burn in your hands. You screamed, dropping it to the floor and watching with wide eyes as it began to burn through the hardwood floor. 

“No…”

You trembled, not taking your sight off of the burning rosary.

You were too far gone - you were damned to Hell.

The tears finally came. You have dropped to your knees now, praying for forgiveness for the sins you committed. Your God would understand - he had to. You didn’t want to sleep with the demon that was Jungkook. You had no choice. He had you underneath a demonic spell that had you moaning his name, crying tears of lust and pleasure…

Had you been screaming his name, claiming how much you wanted Jungkook…

You wrapped your arms around him and begged for more - each and every time…

The feeling was returning. The familiar arousal between your legs and the warm feeling against your skin. You lay upon the cool hardwood floor, wanting nothing more than for your temperature to subside.

Why you?

Why were you being cursed by Jungkook?

What was the supposed deal Jungkook made with your biological father? And even so, you didn’t even know the man. Was he even still alive?

“Beautiful human.”

Your body jerks at the sound of Jungkook - his sultry voice.

Jungkook leans against the nearest wall of your bedroom. He’s sporting all black once more, this time a fitted shirt and slacks. His eyes are the familiar shade of crimson and they watch you closely. 

“Look at you. In a pool of your own arousal once more.” Jungkook shakes his head, a smirk placed on such beautiful lips…

You shake your head. This wasn’t your mind thinking - it had to be the demonic spell.

“I have not put you under any spell.”

Can he read your mind?

“I can read your mind, beautiful.” Jungkook states. “You can learn to read mine. Once we venture to Hell.”

You aren’t going to Hell. You were going to ask God for his forgiveness - to be allowed to be underneath his guidance once more. 

“God…” Jungkook chuckles darkly. “...will never take you. He never had you to begin with, beautiful. Why do you think it was so easy for me to get my hands on you?”

The familiar tightening in your throat, the heat radiating your skin and the goosebumps were returning. Your clit throbbed uncomfortably as if your body knew Jungkook was near. 

“Your body will always submit to me, beautiful. As it belongs to me.”

No.

No.

No!

“I know you feel the arousal once more. How wet you are. You’re such a needy little thing, huh?” Jungkook cackles loudly. “Touch yourself, beautiful. See how wet you are.”

No.

You weren’t going to.

If so, why were your hands going beneath your shorts to touch yourself?

“It’s okay, beautiful. Touch yourself and watch me.”

You want to deny him the satisfaction of watching you, but you’re already succumbing to his demonic spell. You were positive that he’s done something to your mentality that you could never deny him.

“I-I can’t.” you snatch your hands from your shorts, feeling flush with embarrassment.

“That just means you want me to, huh?” Jungkook is kneeling down beside you in the blink of an eye. You want to ask how he does it, but you’re afraid of the answer. You weren’t ready to go down a rabbit hole of demonic entities and powers.

“No…?”

“Is that a question, beautiful?”

Jungkook’s already tugging your pants down and taping your thighs aside. He’s amused by how easily you give into him.

“Go ahead and tell me no.” Jungkook plays with the lace of your underwear. Your clit is visible to him - wet and inviting as always. “Then I'll leave.”

“You’ll leave?”

Don’t sound disappointed, you think. You wanted this demonic entity gone - right?

“Of course. Tell me to leave, Y/N. And I’ll go.”

Jungkook hooks a finger inside your laced panties with a shake of his head. So divine and so sweet - even after he completely ruined you not long ago.

Tell him to go.

Tell him to leave you alone and to never return.

Be stern, you think. Resist him and the impure thoughts of this demon.

But you don’t. Those words never leave your lips. 

“Already so wet, my beautiful human.” Jungkook enters a finger inside of you for a second. He then removes it and enters it inside his mouth. “And taste so heavenly.” he cackles. “Heavenly for someone going to Hell.”

You don’t respond to Jungkook’s words. He’s already entering his fingers back inside of you. He pumps slowly at first to get you comfortable - and then he’s rapid. The sounds of his moving fingers echo off the walls of your bedroom - mixed with your moans of pleasure. It sends shockwaves throughout your body.

It’s so sinful, you think. How when you were a child with your mothers going to church, even if the three of you got awkward stares - how you read the bible alongside them. You prayed every night before bed, before every meal - you needed to know where exactly you went wrong.

“Still blaming yourself, sweetheart?” Jungkook’s so beautiful, you think. You recall many times hearing that demons were often beautiful to trick you into sinning with them. “I told you, you were destined to me long before you were even born.”

You feel Jungkook’s fingers hitting your g-spot, curling inside of you with each thrust. It’s as if he was going deeper and deeper each time. You don’t want to look at the beautiful man, but it’s as if he compels you to. His crimson eyes - so captivating and inhumane. You were told that you were under no spell, but that had to be a lie - demons always lie.

“I never tell no lies, my beautiful human.” Jungkook comes closer to you, licking his lips. “What you feel right now is not due to any spell, but your own body submitting to me.”

Your soft moans only fuel Jungkook on further. His tongue licks along the skin of your collarbone. Your thighs tremble with pleasure when you feel his teeth once more - he’s biting you. It doesn’t hurt, you note, not like it did when he bit you at the cemetery. 

You’re breathing quicken and your eyes snaps shut; you were going to cum. You cannot remember when you ever felt this much pleasure in such a short amount of time until now, and all you can truly think about was succumbing deeper and deeper into the pleasure.

“I know you feel it coming.” Jungkook’s breath tickles your neck as he speaks. “Say my name, beautiful human. Who is the demon who’s going to make you cum?”

“J-Jungkook…!” you shout, feeling the wave of pleasure shoot out of you. It engulfs your entire body, shuddering up the back of your spine and causing goosebumps to litter your skin.

It was when you opened your eyes did you think you were going crazy - completely insane. Jungkook was gone, seemingly never in front of you. Your fingers were inside of you instead of his own, completely soaked in your slick.

“How did you find me? I know your…mothers. They wouldn’t give up that information.”

It took a week to track down your biological father - a week of torment each night with Jungkook. You cried after you realized that you masturbated, not because you thought it was wrong - you’ve done so before. But because you weren’t sure what was real and what was fake anymore. No prayer stopped Jungkook from returning to you each night - and you never told him yourself to stop; your body submitting to him each time like he’s stated.

You visited your mother on the third day and even she saw the bags beneath your eyes. She questions your appearance, but all you could think about was the very man before you - it took hours to convince her, but she eventually caved. 

“Well…” your father murmurs, sighing after a moment of silence. “...what do you want? Money?”

Your eyes roam over the large estate he lived in. Money would’ve been nice if there wasn’t a literal demon fucking you every night - but even you wouldn’t think to ask him for money. He was nothing but a donor for your mother’s to have a child, never truly intending to be in your life. 

“What deal did you make with the demon?” you ask bluntly.

Your father’s eyes widen slightly at your choice of words. He turns to close the doors to the office you sat in before turning back to you. 

“What…are you talking about?” he coughs, turning back to you. 

“What deal did you make with the demon that’s tormenting me?” you don’t mean for your tone to come out harsh, but it does. You were upset - rightfully so. “What are you? A musician? You promised that son of a bitch your first born child for a record deal-”

“I’m not a musician.” he raises his hands in an attempt to calm you. “H-How did you find me-”

“Are you not listening?!” you take a deep breath, again, not wanting to appear too angered. “There’s a demon tormenting me every night. He said that my…father,” you didn’t want to call him that. He had no intentions of ever being in your life, he was nothing but a donor. But it didn’t matter to Jungkook. “made a deal with him. What the fuck was the deal you made with the demon? Why am I the one being tormented when I know you have other children-”

“You are my first born daughter.” the man caves. His voice comes out in a whisper and barely audible. “I have a son older than you before I made the deal.” his voice is cracking - was he guilty? After all these years did he feel bad for whatever he’s done? “I…I needed money to support my family. The demon said if I had a daughter that I…” the man blinks away from you. “...my wife fell pregnant with another son after we made the deal. That demon was upset. I’ll never forget those eyes. He threatened to kill my wife and kids if I didn’t give him a daughter. That was the plan. I never knew demons were specific with gender.”

Your blood runs cold as his words ring in your mind.

“I…what’s your name?”

You’re taken aback by his sudden interest. “Y/N.” you murmur.

“I thought the demon…I don’t know what I thought.” he sighs. “I kept tabs on you for years now and you remained alive. The demon didn’t take you when you were born like I initially thought he would. Each year passed and I began to think that maybe…he forgot? He didn’t want you anymore.”

You want to laugh. To think your life was given away before you were ever conceived. Your eyes roam the large office space and linger on a picture - a family one. The man before you with a woman, his wife, and two boys - his sons. They appeared happy as a small family of four. 

You sniffle, unsure truly if you could be upset with him. He was only doing what he thought was right at the time, trying to provide for his family. You ponder what would happen if he did have a daughter instead of a second son - would Jungkook have been tormenting her instead of you? 

You shake your head. 

“I have to go.” you exhale. “I-”

“I am…so sorry.”

You glance at the man’s way and nod your head. 

“So am I.” you murmur to him, your legs already walking towards the door of his office.

Your body is sweating, beads of sweat pooling down your skin. Your shirt sticks to you thickly and you’re sure that this is how you were going to die - or pass out. Whichever came first.

Your eyes snap and you lean your head back, cupping your forehead. You sat at your desk, your work forgotten about.

It’s been two months now since you've been tormented by Jungkook - though he had been missing for the last week. You were grateful - in a way - that he has not returned. Your body needed the rest.

Your throat closes up and your eyes snap open. You never ran as fast as you did now, pushing past your co-workers to make your way into the restroom. You slam the stall door open and hurl right into the toilet. You felt physically ill, vomiting for the next ten minutes.

You were sent home once a co-worker found you like that, crying and vomiting - you weren’t even sure you had enough in your stomach to continue, but your body kept on.

It was the following day - you were given a few days off to recover - when you noticed that something was terribly wrong with you. You visited your mother that night for dinner - she claimed that you looked both hungry and ill. She was just going to start dinner - steak - and that you needed to relax while she finished up.

You thought the smell of raw meat would disgust you, but it didn't. While your mother washed dishes in the sink, humming to herself, you opened the fridge to find yourself something to drink. You were parched and now growing hotter by the second. You smelt it first - the raw steak your mother had placed in the fridge for another day. She hadn’t seasoned it yet like she usually did and it caught your eyes almost instantly. Your eyes glanced before the fridge door to your mother, scrubbing along the dishes.

You grasp the bowl the steak was placed in and sniff it, your stomach rumbling. Before you can process what you’re doing, you sink your teeth into the raw meat, the blood oozing from the corner of your lips. It tasted delicious - finally something you could smell or taste without vomiting it up moments after.

Your mind suddenly clicks on what in the world you’re doing. You slam the fridge door shut and hurl the bitten steak in the trash. You feel ill - not because you just ate raw meat, but because you liked it.

“You ate raw meat?” your doctor asks, chuckling awkwardly. “That cannot be good.”

“That’s why I’m here.” you murmur, playing with your fingers to not look your doctor in the eye. “There must be something wrong with me. I-I sweat constantly. I always feel sick. I can’t sleep most nights-”

“That’s what we were looking into.” your doctor nods, offering you a kind smile. “We ran some tests and a part of the problem can be answered. You’re pregnant.”

Pregnant.

Pregnant?

You shake your head slowly, eyes now widening at the doctor. “I can’t be…” you trail off. 

The only person - were demons even people? Your mind races at the word pregnant. You were only sexually active with Jungkook - an act you weren’t sure if you had complete control over. 

Demons had to be infertile - you were a human woman. There was no way you could be pregnant by a demon.

“We took multiple tests, Y/N. Would you like for me to perform a sonogram?”

You’re starting to feel ill again. 

“Y-Yea.” you whisper. 

The gel placed upon your stomach is cold. You don’t want to look upon the screen, but you’re drawn to it. 

Your doctor hums. “That’s weird.” he murmurs. “The baby appears large.”

You’re unsure how to read the screen, but you try your hardest. 

“But you’re rather small. You are still in the beginning stages of your pregnancy.” your doctor continues.

You pull your eyes away from the screen.

You shake your head. 

“I can’t have this baby.”

Your doctor glances at you, but he doesn’t say anything but nod. 

“Is there a way I can set up an appointment?” you continue. “I-I can’t keep this baby.”

Your doctor nods again. “We can set one up as soon as we have available. Let me speak-”

Your doctor coughs, and then begins to clench his chest. You lean forward as he begins to cough blood. He proceeds to fall to the ground, sonogram equipment crashing alongside him. 

You swing your legs around to get up from the hospital bed. You swing the door open and scream out. “I-I think he’s having a heart attack in here!”

The room swarms with nurses, all pushing you aside. You couldn’t take your eyes off of your doctor as he’s being ushered out. Even as you make your way back home, did you feel as though you were at fault.

You swing the door to your home open and walk in. You close it behind you and wake your way towards your bedroom.

“Y/N.”

You come face to face with Jungkook.

“Welcome home, my beautiful human.” Jungkook offers you a smile, small dimples on display. “I’ll allow this realm to be your home for now.”

You shake your head. 

Jungkook takes a few steps closer to you. “You’re glowing.” he hums.

“You did this to me.” you hiss his way. “You put this…thing in me-”

“Thing?” Jungkook cackles, red eyes glaring at you. “You mean our child?”

“This isn’t a child.”

“But it is, my beautiful human. Made with our flesh and blood. A product of our love.” Jungkook is in front of you in a matter of seconds. He turns you around so you are facing the floor-length mirror in your room. He places a hand upon your stomach. “Such a powerful being to rival the strongest and most powerful demons of the underworld. I can feel it.”

You feel your throat tighten.

“You cannot feel such power yet. But as he grows throughout the months, so will his powers. They’ll be similar to my own.”

He?

“Yes. He. It’s a boy - I can feel him. He can also feel your disappointment, my beautiful human. You don’t want our child to feel hatred while he’s not yet been born.”

You shake your head. You didn’t want a child - not with a demon. You had your life planned the best you could. Find a man that you loved, get married - have children when the time was right. 

This time was not right.

“It is right.” Jungkook lifts your shirt to reveal your stomach. You feel disgusted that it begins to move. You’ve never seen anything like it. Women in early pregnancy didn’t look like you now. It was as if the child inside of you was attempting to claw its way out.

“Our childs power has shown itself today. He had his first kill.” Jungkook appears proud, crimson eyes shining. “It was self-defense. You tried to get rid of him, Y/N. He knows you did.”

Your heart sinks. Your doctor having a form of a heart attack, bleeding out in front of you. That was you - the child you were pregnant with. 

You blink rapidly to not cry, even if you desperately wanted to.

“Everything would be fine if you would stop fighting your destiny. You were destined to be mine - to submit to me. You are now having our child.”

Jungkook removes his hands from your stomach and lifts it in the air. From his reflection, you witness a small box appear in his hand.

“How do you feel, Y/N?” Jungkook asks, opening the box. “Do you feel nauseous? Headache? Hot?”

You shake your head, watching Jungkook remove a ring from the box. “I know,” he says. “you haven’t felt that way since you walked inside the room. It’s because our child feels welcomed with me around him. He isn’t on alert. He feels safe.”

Jungkook turns you around, holding up the ring. It’s large, a dark stone at the center surrounded by smaller diamonds. He grabs your hand in his own, sliding the ring onto your finger. “You humans enjoy jewelry as an act of commitment.” he states. “Now here it is. Consider us…married.” Jungkook shrugs his shoulders. 

Jungkook offers a smile, unbeknownst to you, a cunning one. Humans were always easy to manipulate.

Your chest is ready to explode into small pieces. Your chest is tingling, you unwillingly inhale hoping that your lungs would be filled with air - the perfect amount of oxygen needed. Instead, it fills with water. Your head begins to feel numb and light, almost as if it’s going to crack open.

You feel dizzy, as if it dawned onto you just now that you were going to die here. Your arms flapped around for anything, but the weight of the water just brings you down deeper and deeper.

You managed to open your eyes, but the water isn’t clear. It’s hard to make out your surroundings and you cannot fathom what you’ve done to get here. 

You clenched your eyes shut in hopes the ringing in your head would go away, but it didn’t. Instead, it got louder and louder.

There’s no air left in your lungs, nothing keeping you alive. 

Your flaring hands cup your stomach - the bump that grew larger throughout the months. Your baby. Your heart sinks at the thought that not only you would be dying right now, but so would your son - even if a part of him was Jungkook, a demon, he was still a part of you.

Your chest burned while the rest of your body ached. You could no longer fight your kicking legs. You feel yourself sink deeper and deeper into the abyss, your surroundings only growing darker and darker.

Your mind, what little left you had of it, screamed for Jungkook to save you - that he was truly your only hope left. Not just for you, but for the child you both shared.

Your screams echo and bounce off of your ears. Your body begins to frail once more, feeling yourself being restrained. Your eyes finally focus and you realize that you are not deep in the abyss anymore.

Cries are heard throughout the room and finally, you stop fighting against the hands restraining you.

“I-Is that…”

You aren’t in a room. You aren’t sure where in the world you are. The walls are stone and high. There’s candles that are lined around your cot and on the walls. Surrounding you are several men, all unfamiliar except one. Jungkook. He’s holding something in his arms, wrapped in a clothed blanket. 

“Our son.” Jungkook rocks the wailing baby until he’s quiet. 

“Can I…hold him?”

The six men surrounding you all watch as Jungkook places the baby into your arms. Your eyes are fixed on him. He doesn’t appear to be that of a newborn - yet, he was half demon, so you wouldn’t hold anything against him. He’s still so small in your arms and against your chest and warm to the touch. There’s a mop of dark hard atop of his head.

Your son's eyes are open - and they are the same as Jungkook’s. Crimson, shining right up at you.

Your finger touches his skin, feeling your heart feel warm at just the sight of him.

Jungkook hums, feeling himself smile. He had you now - fully. Now more than ever would have if it was not for the child he’d given you; you had called for him while in the abyss to save the both of you. Even if there was never any direct harm to you physically, mentally you were calling for him. Him to protect you and his son.

“It’s time.” one of the men said. Jungkook takes the baby back into his arms, shushing when the small infant begins to sob at your lack of contact.

“W-What’s happening?” you want to hold your baby close to you once more, inhale the soft baby scent that even a half demon like he had. 

The six men surrounding you began to chant. You’re unsure what’s happening, but your heart sinks. There’s an uneasy feeling in your core.

“Jungkook…” you murmur, reaching out for him.

“It’s alright, my beautiful human.” Jungkook takes a step back with the baby, rocking him gently. “The bond has been completed. Now we can be together for eternity. In Hell.”

The room begins to shake, as if an earthquake was beginning to happen. The candles on the stone walls all fall, falling onto the ground and erupting around you.

“Jungkook!” you shout, your nails clenching the thin sheet surrounding you. What in the world is going on right now? 

“The pain will not last long, my beautiful wife…” Jungkook trails off. His son begins to cry, feeling the distress coming from his mother - noted seeing as he was just as connected to you as he was to Jungkook. “...once it’s over, you can reunite with us in the Underworld. We will be waiting for you.”

The chants only get louder and the room hotter. When you managed to take your eyes away from Jungkook, you looked towards the shaking ground. It erupts, pits of flames crashing through the ground. You scream, unsure of what was going on.

Jungkook’s words ring in your mind - you would be reunited with them in the Underworld.

Your blood runs cold, feeling your arms being pulled upon from an unknown force deep within the pits. 

Your eyes lock with Jungkook for a last time, crimson eyes staring right into your own. You’re unsure how to read him - he was a demon and could demons ever truly be trusted? They were cunning and selfish; only truly anything for personal gain.

‘I’ll be right down there when you arrive, Y/N. We both will.’ 

You’re shocked for a moment, hearing Jungkook’s voice directly into your thoughts. Now your body is being dragged down into the Earth, swallowing you fully and yet, all you could hear are Jungkook’s words in your head.

‘You have my word, my beautiful wife.’

PART 2 | Divine Intervention (Taehyung Version)

[jyoongim]

DANGEROUSLY IN LOVE

Word count 1.1k

”he’s a wolf in disguise

but I can’t stop staring in those evil eye

i asked my girlfriend if she’d seen you ‘round before

she mumbled something while she got down on the floor

we’ve might have fucked, not really sure, don’t quite recall

but something tells me that I’ve seen him yeah

that boy is a monster”

alastor x burlesque!reader pt 1

An inaccurate southerner 1920 fic.

I am Black sooooo reader is black for the sake of this and so is Alastor cause that’s a black man idc idc idc fight a skunk.

Monster by lady Gaga really had my juices flowing

themes: Alastor himself is a warning,

violence,

alcohol use,

 drug use, 

nsfw, 

teasing, flirting, taunting, smut, 

banter, possessive/protective behavior  

You hummed a little tune as Mimzy finished doing your makeup and hair. 

Tonight was your first debut at the club and you were excited to be the opening act.

You ran your hands over the tight corset in an attempt to soothe the nervousness that was trying to settle in your belly. You adjusted the feathered headpiece as Mimzy finally finished everything with hairspray (why did set your makeup as well….oh well).

You were finishing up putting on your jewelry when you heard Mimzy gasped, you turned seeing her poking her head out to look out the door out to the growing crowd.

you fixed your lips to ask her what had her so shocked, when she twirled around, eyes wide and excited “He’s here! I can’t believe he here!”

You blinked, confused “who is here Mimzy? One of your little boy toys? Or someone you owe?”

she flipped you off before smirking “what you live under a rock doll? Him! Hell’s Stereo himself!”

Your eyes widened as you gawked “No way!” You ran over to the door to peep without people seeing you and your eyes settled on a lone red, lanky demon sitting at the bar. You couldn’t really see him well from where your dressing room but before you could crane your head out further, Mimzy pulled you back in

”You are suppose to be a surprise doll! Can’t let that lot get a eyeful without proper payment now can we?”

You soon forgot about the red demon as you primped a bit more, chatted with some of the other dancers, and laughed with Mimzy.

 The lights in the club had finally dimmed and Mimzy slapped you on the ass, leaving your dressing room “Knock ‘em dead doll!”

You took a deep breathe as you heard the band begin to play your song.

You straightened your back, and took on a composure that oozed seduction and confidence.

Hearing the beat of the music, you waltzed out onto the stage, giant feathered fans concealing yourself.

The whistles and catcalls never failed to make you nervous, but you used it to fuel your confidence.

You pivoted around the stage, teasing those who tried to steal a look around the fans.

A swing lowered and you took a seat on it and as it rose into the air, you finally revealed yourself in all your glammed glory.

the spotlight prevented you front seeing much of the crowd but your were Able to spot Mimzy, who was chatting with the red demon from earlier.

Your body moved on autopilot, maybe it was from hours of practice or maybe it was because the red demon was drop dead gorgeous. 

He was a rather tall fellow, at least compared to Mimzy.

Lanky build adorned in a red pinstriped suit with a black bowtie. He had a bob-like hair cut, the tips black that was cut into an undercut. Protruding on top of his bang were two little antler like horns and

omg were those ears???? His ears mixed with the color of his hair. 

They reminded you of a deer’s. They seemed to stay alert, sticking forward, never flickering.

His eyes were a bright red, like rubies.

and he had a ever-present sharp smile.

Uncanny. But OH  he was so pretty.

You locked eyes and automatically you flashed him a flirty wink. You half expected him to throw a wink or look away, but instead he held your gaze as he raised his glass in acknowledgment. You felt your cheeks heat up as you tried to focus on your performance.

You swung and twirled on your little perch. Slowly, you started to remove pieces of your costume.

You perched yourself alongside a gentleman and smirked as he practically melted at your touch. You wrapped your boa around his neck and  pressed your fingers lightly to his mouth; he smirked, nipping at your fingertips and slowly dragging your glove off. You glided through the crowd, losing a piece of clothing here and there.

By the time you circled around to the bar, Mimzy was drunk and dancing along to the music and the mysterious demon was tracking your movements.

Hitting a little jig with Mimzy, you were intending to make your way to the lanky devil, when an arm circled around your waist and tugged you into a fella, who obviously had been drinking waaaay too much.

”why don’cha take the rest of these off princess?” He took a swig of whatever cheap liquor and leered at you “i like a gal dripped only in jewels” he snickered.

You frowned and tried to play off his perversion.”sorry dearest but I fear i am simply too much for you” you slapped his hand off of you and made your way to the bar.

Taking a seat, you ordered a bottle of whiskey and manners be damned, you chugged it for a good second.

maybe this’ll put you back in a good mood.

you were too busy sipping your sorrows you didn’t notice that a dark presence had settled beside you.

“And here I thought you were just pretty entertainment ” a deep brawl said from behind you. You turned and let out a soft squeak at the close proximity of the demon you had been eyeing all night. He cocked his head, mouth stretched in a big smile, showing off his sharp teeth. “You kept me waiting for a while doll” 

You could blame the courage on the whiskey, but you smirked at him coyly “and who might you be?” The red demon crouched to your level and raised your bare hand to his lips, keeping eye contact as his grin widened “Alastor doll. Pleasure to meet to you”

[scekrex]

Hey absolutely love your stuff (obviously since I keep requesting lol) anyways could I request Adam who somehow survived after getting beaten up by Lucifer and stabbed who even knows how many times by Niffty gets found by the reader who while an overlord isn't that powerful is super rich (I also picture them being like a mix of Alastor and Vox where like Alastor still holds a lot of more old timey views but also tries to adapt with the changing views like Vox) and decides to take him back to his mansion to try and help him survive (wants to make a few bucks later using him) after a bit the two share an oh fuck moment when they realized they have caught feelings. I hope you have a wonderful day/night!

Overlord reader?? Uh fuck yeah!! I fucking love this ask so much xoxo/p

Overlord!reader Masterlist

Chains on my lips just add flames to the fire

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language & sexual tension

note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers

The battlefield was a mess through and through and while the devil and his daughter had built up the hotel again, a new, more inviting looking building was now located on the lonely hill in the pride ring, you still felt Adam's presence. The residents of the hazbin hotel must've already forgotten about him and therefore didn't notice you at all, too caught up in their doing.

The first man was badly injured and while you normally wouldn't care for such things, especially because it was an exorcist angel, this case was special. Because not only was the brunette laying in front of your feet the first man god had ever created, no, he was also the leader of said exorcists. You could only imagine how many sinners and Hellborn people would pay a good amount of money to harm him, even if it was just the slightest injury possible. So you bowed down and scooped the passed out man in your arms. If these sinners and even Lucifer didn't care for him, you would put him to good use. For your own benefit that was, but no one had to know about that yet. So you carried the first man across the entire pride ring of hell until you reached your home. The brunette man in your arms was still unconscious and given the blood he had lost and the hits he had taken that was pretty normal.

Once inside your mansion, you headed to the hospital wing, walking through the building with slow, heavy steps that echoed through the empty hallways. The hospital wing was close to the entrance, a decision you had made after stumbling through the doors with a fatal wound that had been exposing your guts. It was quicker to reach in an emergency and while those rarely occurred, you didn't like the risk. You put the first man down onto one of the beds, your claw sliced smoothly through the fabric of his once holy robe to get it out of the way. You needed to take care of the stab wounds the nifty little demon girl had caused. The stabs were deep but nothing you couldn't fix. You gave Adam one last glance before you stepped over to the medicine cabinet and for a quick moment you asked yourself why Lilith and Eve had left Adam, he wasn't bad looking at all, quite the opposite. And Lucifer had mentioned that Adam had ‘kinda let himself go’ which meant back when the two women were married to him, he must have looked even better. You quickly shook your head, what in the devil's name were you even thinking?

With wound cleaning supplies and a healing potion you stepped back to Adam's bed, the first human ever seemed to be slowly waking up. He braced his palms against the mattress, tried to lift himself up but you were quick to push him back down, the more he moved while his wounds were still ripped open the more blood he lost. And while Adam would be able to recover either way, the more blood stayed inside of his body, the better. At least that's what you thought. “Stay,” you hummed as you cleaned the blood from his skin. It was unusual to clean off golden blood instead of the red mess you were so used to. But you didn't mind, didn't care even.

Adam flinched away from your touch, tried to lift himself up yet again. Your hand took a hold of his throat and held him down by it, “I said stay, stupid angel.” Adam's eyes seemed to clear up a little, the fog that had covered his golden eyes, had made them seem yellow, lifted and the brunette stared at you, clearly not knowing what to feel. You saw anger in his eyes, rage and hatred but at the same time there was fear. Fear and pain.

Once the blood was no longer staining his perfect skin, you took the potion you had grabbed, popped the cork and held the smooth, cold glass against his bottom lip, “Open up,” you demanded, yet your voice stayed gentle. Adam hesitated and you really couldn't blame him. “It will cause your wounds to heal,” you explained to the former leader of the exorcists and he seemed to consider his opinions for a moment. Then he actually parted his lips and let you spill the disgusting liquid onto his tongue. His face scrunched up at the bitter taste and he kept the liquid in his mouth. “Swallow it, Adam.” Adam looked up at you, once again seemingly considering alternatives he had. Given the fact that he did as you told him, there hadn't been many.

Adam checked his chest as the wounds that had caused enough pain to make him pass out healed quickly. The only hint left that they ever even existed were golden scars that seemed to be permanent from now on, but the first man couldn't complain, could he? He was still alive and on top of that there was no more pain. The first man frowned at you, mistrust was lingering heavy in his eyes as golden orbs followed your every move. Yet he remained silent, not a single word was falling from his lips.

Your hand that had been holding him down by his throat let go of him and Adam was sitting up right in his bed in an instant. His hands traced over the new found scars, you watched him in silence. There was something about him, about his vibe that was different. It wasn't the fact that he was an angel, no, even though that made his vibe different too, but it was something soft, something afraid to break. You cleared your throat loudly and Adam's eyes were on you within a heartbeat, while mistrust still lingered heavy in them, curiosity was close behind and you couldn't help but catch yourself that you were curious about him too.

-

Adam always bragged about being the first man, like that was his biggest accomplishment and if you looked at it from a different viewpoint it wasn't even his accomplishment but God’s, Adam didn't create himself after all. Yet it was the only thing worth mentioning whenever he didn't want to do something, “I’m the fucking man, not your fucking housewife, I'm not gonna fucking clean that.” You sighed as you took a step towards Adam and he flinched, trying to back up but his back hit the kitchen counter sooner than expected. Your hands grabbed a hold of his waist and you effortlessly lifted him up to sit on said counter, Adam was taken aback by that.

It had been a couple of weeks since you had found and saved him and the mistrust that had been filling his eyes from the first second on had never truly left them. He would always leash out on you only to back down as soon as you reacted in some way that seemed too unpredictable for him. “When will you learn to think before you speak?” Your voice held a certain amount of softness, it always did when you were speaking to Adam. The guy wasn't a threat to you, not in his current situation. And you were trying to use that to your advantage. Because he was scared, basically a deer in the headlights, why not put that fear to use? You nudged his knees apart to stand between his legs, still taller than him you hovered over the first man with a mix between a sly grin and a soft smile. “When you start to suck my fucking dick,” you chuckled as his choice of words, very aware that he simply wanted you to fuck off and leave him be, you acted oblivious to that. One hand was placed on the counter to steady yourself, right next to his thigh, the other grabbed his chin to tilt his head upwards, forcing the brunette to look you in the eyes.

“Right now? Right here?” your voice sounded so delicious, Adam wanted to eat it up, in fact, he wanted to devour you entirely, feast on every piece you had to offer and only stop once he swallowed it all. In Christ's holy name, what was he thinking? Your lips were so close to his, so so close, all he would need to do was - he leaned into your touch, why he wasn't sure, it was as if his body was following a call sent to him by nature itself. And then his lips met yours and a low groan spilled from his throat as his hands grabbed your shoulder firmly, he was afraid you'd pull back, that you'd leave him like Lilith and Eve had and he didn't even know why. Why was he afraid of losing you, a sinner, a man he barely knew? He couldn't wrap his mind around it. And yet he kissed you like his life was depending on it.

The hand that had been braced against the counter was now on his thigh, squeezing the soft flesh playfully and drawing a delicious sound from Adam's lips. Oh you could drown in the noises the first man made, the little huffs and puffs, his groans that he tried to keep as quiet as possible, the whimpers he would later deny. Adam was the most beautiful creature that had ever set a foot into hell and you mentally punched yourself in the face for wanting to use him to make money. There was no way you'd use such a divine, holy and glorious man for that, no. Adam was yours, your little secret and you'd keep it, keep him.

When you two partened a sting of saliva connected your lips and both of your eyes were hazy, he looked blissed out and it was then that you decided you wanted to see him like that more often - as often as possible. You were to lean in yet again, wanting more, needing more. But your phone rang. “Pick it up, bet it's something fucking important, they don't fucking call overlords for shits and giggles, do they?” You knew Adam was right and you hated it. You pushed your body away from the first man's and you saw how he wanted to reach out, wanted to keep you close but didn't say a thing about it. You grabbed your phone off the dining table and answered the call, “The fuck do you want, Vox?” It was the first time Adam had heard you speaking so vulgarly, you usually seemed to be collected, considering your words wisely, but that? In the name of God, that was truly something else. And it was ridiculously hot. “No I fucking can't, ask someone else,” and with that you hung up, tossed your phone carelessly back onto the table and found your place between his legs yet again. “Where were we?” you hummed through hooded eyes. And it was only then that the two of you seemed to realize what exactly you had just done, what you were about to do again.

Both of your eyes widened and the next thing you felt were Adam's hands on your body, not just your shoulder this time but also your waist, your chest, your thighs, your back. It seemed as if he was claiming you with his hands and the worst part of it? You truly didn't mind, you even enjoyed his touch on you, leaned into it and closed your eyes to fully focus on his hands roaming over your body.

Fuck, you had fallen deep for this man, way deeper than you ever thought you'd fall. But Adam had followed you, had fallen with you.

“You were about to suck me off,” Adam mumbled, his voice already sounded fucked out and you hadn't even started yet.

[strawchocoberry]

YOUR LIPS LOOK LONELY, I CAN FIX THAT

୨୧ featuring: shidou ryusei, oliver aiku, itoshi sae, noel noa, michael kaiser x fem reader 

ଘ cw: smut, face sitting, orgasm denial, edging, multiple orgasms, spanking, degradation kink, dacryphilia, pet names

୨୧ synopsis: you take your rightful seat on their face and let them ruin your cunt

ଘ wc: 2.1k

ʚ SHIDOU RYUSEI ɞ

Everything was plain and simple with him. He wants it, he got it. No matter what you said, all your words fell into a brick wall. In the end, he would get his way with you, having you do exactly as he wanted you to. There was something in him, something in that horny demon, that made all your hesitations vanish into thin air. Just like right now that you were on your knees on top of the couch with Shidou making a feast out of your soaked cunt. His tongue drove you crazy, reaching deep inside you, making your thighs tremble and almost crush his skull. Even if you ended up smashing his head, he wouldn’t give two flying fucks about it. 

He was brutal, violent and aggressive, fucking your cunt with his tongue like a beast. His arms were wrapped around your thighs, pinching and slapping them every once in a while. Your sweet whiny moans turned him on, making him obsessed with the electricity that ran through his entire body. “S-Shidou… Slow down… Please…” you begged, only for him to outrageously condemn your pleas. His biting your inner thigh caused you to whine from the slight stinging pain. 

“Stay put and let me do my work, slut,” he cursed. He launched attack after attack on your assaulted cunt, having you cum on his face a couple times. Yet his sexual desires were still far from being quenched. And even after all that, you were still pathetically begging him to show you some mercy, cheeks stained from tears and ruined mascara. Shidou found that amusing, your pleas only driving him into ravaging your cunt more. Your thighs were filled with his marks; bruises, bites, scratches. 

It wasn’t his fault. He couldn’t help it. You were just too good a temptation for him, forcing him to sin for a taste of your sweet nectar. He didn’t hate it, he could never hate it. He sadistically kept pushing you to your limits. Every time you claimed you couldn’t continue, he proved you wrong. You might have been cursing him, but you secretly loved it. And he knew it. 

ʚ OLIVER AIKU ɞ

You tried to remember how you got yourself in this situation. One moment you’re being an insufferable brat, demanding his attention at all costs. You kept pestering him, when he had clearly told you that he wasn’t done with his daily exercise routine. And the next moment Oliver has you sitting on his face, giving in to your pleads. “This is your punishment for acting all bratty,” he explained, running a long lick on your folds, before taking his time abusing your clit. You tried to stop him, but soon enough he had you a babbling little mess, moaning his name in-between incoherent words. His tongue leisurely explored your inner world, penetrating your cunt and sending waves of ecstasy throughout your body. 

Your hands gripped tightly onto each side of the training bench, your legs almost giving in to the pleasure Oliver was mercilessly showering you with. His bulky arms were supporting your legs, keeping them in place to give him the best view on the house. He would retreat for mere seconds, just enough to take a deep breath, before throwing himself back to your drenched folds. You were lost, the only thing on your mind was his sinister tongue driving you past the edge of insanity. “I-It-It’s too much… T-Too much…” you cried, your breath hitching on your throat. “I-I… I-I cannot—”

The only thing making your situation a living hell was Oliver denying you over and over again. When he had first mentioned that this was a sort of punishment, you weren’t sure what he meant exactly. You enjoyed it, which you shouldn’t. He could feel you were close, thus picked up his pace. And then, nothing. He backed away, panting hard with a devilish smirk on his lips. You had lost count of how long this was going on, how many orgasms you had been denied. “Don’t lie to me, baby.” He kissed your abused cunt. “I know you can hold on a little longer. Pretty please~”

He was riling you up again, soaking his lips in your sweet liquor that made him drunk. He was savouring every little jolt of your body whenever his tongue penetrated your hole, every honeyed moan and every grumpy whine that escaped your lips. “Oli… Ver… Please… I want to… Cum…” you begged. You sounded desperate and you were. Just the thought of him edging you to your orgasm only to sadistically leave you needy for release tormented your being. Your body wasn’t going to last any longer of his cruelty. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, finally feeling your orgasm hitting you. Oliver ate you out through all of it, not letting a single drop of your slick go to waste. 

ʚ ITOSHI SAE ɞ

He might have been the one to ask you to sit on his face, but he was surprised when you agreed. Despite the blunt expression on his face, you knew he was secretly happy you had obliged to his request. And oh you were so glad you had agreed. Holding onto the headboard tightly, you let him do whatever he pleased. His arms were resting on your waist, occasionally sliding down to squeeze your ass. But the thing that had your legs trembling on each side of his head was that wicked tongue of his which was swimming freely in your wetness. 

Even if you wanted to, you wouldn’t have been able to hold back your moans. Not when he was licking long, flat stripes one after the other on your cunt. Not when he was using his tongue to play with your clit as he deemed fit. And definitely not when he was moaning in your cunt, making your whole body electrify by the sensation. Sae wasn’t rushing and that irritated you. You wanted to move your hips faster, yet his arms were bruisingly holding you in place. The only thing you could do now was hang on tight and await for the play he had made to unravel. 

You screamed when his tongue caught you off guard and penetrated your velvety walls. His arms rocked your body on his lips, throwing you on a loop of endless pleasure. He moaned at the way you creamed on his tongue, his ears blessed by your melodic lust laced voice. Your nails were dug into the headboard and you wouldn’t let go, afraid that your body might collapse from the pure blissfulness of your lightheadedness. “Fuck… I-I’m close…” you moaned breathlessly. 

His hands cupped your ass cheeks, spreading them, giving him even better access to send you to cloud nine. You were lost in a trance, your body trembling from him making you cum. He guided your hips, helping you ride his face through your orgasm. You were crying and moaning his name, experiencing a high like never before. You grabbed a handful of his hair and made him look at you. He seemed pleased by your tear stained cheeks, heavy breathing and long lost voice. “Don’t even dream of moving away. I’m not done.” 

ʚ NOEL NOA ɞ

You hadn’t quite understood what he meant when he told you that a snack would help his mind relax from the hectic amount of logical thoughts. So, when he expressed his desire to eat you out, you blankly stared at him, but complied nevertheless. Sitting on the edge of his bed, slightly holding your lower body up by supporting yourself with your arms firmly on it, he sat down in-between your legs. The moment his lips kissed your cunt, followed by a long, fat stride, you hollered. 

Every move of his tongue was precise and delivered with utmost accuracy in order to satisfy your needs. You whimpered, your drenched cunt being penetrated by his tongue. His big hands were roaming from your thighs to your waist, lifting your shirt along the way, tickling your tummy. Even so, your mind could only focus on how he ate you out, making you a soaking wet whimpering mess. “Noa… Noa…” He made you more and more needy and that pleased him. Your whimpers urged him to continue, sucking now on your clit, lollying it, throwing you in lustful waves of pleasure. 

His hands left bruises on your waist, as he attempted to keep you in place. He grazed your thighs, sending shivers throughout your body. Your breathing was erratic and hectic, trying to keep up with his tongue running rampant in Noa’s home turf. There was no field the best striker in the world couldn’t conquer. And he never failed to prove himself true to his title. Even when he was eating you out. “I-I’m… Cum-Cumming…” your voice shook, as he hungrily tasted your juices, savouring every last bit of it. 

You were breathing hard, chest panting up and down, as you tried to ground yourself back to earth. Noa was drawing soothing circles on your thighs, taking this chance to catch his long lost breath as well. He nuzzled his nose on your inner thigh, smirking at your little jolt of surprise. Your hand reached out and your fingers ran through his short white hair, making him hum delighted at your soft touch. Kissing your inner thigh, his eyes looked up at you. “I’m still hungry.” 

ʚ MICHAEL KAISER ɞ

He ordered you to sit on his face and who were you to deny his, the emperor’s, command? Sitting on your knees on the couch, you held tightly onto the backrest, while the emperor took his sweet time savouring your delectable cunt as if it were some sort of exotic dish. His tongue would thrust into your hole forcefully when you least expected it, making you whimper, curving a smirk in his lips. His nose teasingly nuzzled against your clit, arousing you more and more, making your little cunt more sensitive to his assaults. His hands were holding onto your thighs, holding them still or guiding them to ride his face. And oh his occasional muffled moans were more than enough to make you cum on their own. 

Kaiser would send you to your climax and eat you out throughout it. He would then leave kisses and bites on your inner thighs, as you enjoyed the luxury of a small moment of respite, before he was at it again. And whenever you dared raise an objection to his actions, he would slap your ass with his left hand, the thorny briars of his tattoo sinking into your skin with the stinging pain of the red hand print on your ass cheek. “Know your place,” he spat. “Shut up and take what I give you, whore.” He slapped your ass again. His tongue took you to the heavens only for his sadistic side to bring you down to the deepest parts of hell, as he kept giving you one orgasm after another.  

You were a mumbling mess, meowling incoherent nonsense along with his name. Oh how pleased he was to listen to you begging him to stop, only to make you miserably cry in the end. Your legs were trembling and you could barely feel them from all your orgasms. Your little cunt was pulsating, abused and at the mercy of his tongue. You creamed more with each long stride he licked on your soft folds. You moaned with his aggressive sucking on your clit. And you screamed with the brutal thrusts of his tongue. You were holding tightly for dear life, but you could be knocked out from excessive pleasure any moment now. 

“Kaiser… Please… I-I can’t…” you half-cried, half-moan your plea. He didn’t spare a single glance at you, too busy to hear your whimpery call for him. He forced the air to leave your lungs, making you gasp at the lack of it, your chest frantically moving up and down in an attempt to get the much needed oxygen. Your whole body quivered, as he showered you with lustful ecstasy. His hands cradled your hips as he had you ride his lips through your orgasm, moaning his name. Kaiser peppered your thighs with soft kisses, but you were too numb to feel it, too dumbfucked to notice it. 

© strawchocoberry — do not copy, repost, translate or reuse my work

[theunaveragepsychoticbitch]

KINKTOBER DAY 1- MATING PRESS

Barbatos x AMAB!Prostitute!reader, raw dogging, cumming inside

Barbatos was getting tired of missionary.

As the loyal butler of the royal line, he didn't get much time to simply relax- let alone to fuck rough and nasty until his body couldn't take it anymore. So in the quickies he'd sometimes schedule with any random lucky demon, it was usually a matter of fuck and go. Kinks and performance be damned.

But hell.

A demon could only take so much before even the biggest cocks weren't doing it for him anymore. Being big wasn't enough; where's the technique? The hunger? The lust and need to devour the other, until there was nothing left but a living toy for one to fuck when they pleased?

Maybe he just wasn't bringing out that feeling in people anymore. Most demons were scared to even accept his requests these days, honestly...

The demon sighs, head low as he walks to the room. Hopefully, this time would be different.

It was part of his birthday weekend gift– a full three days off from work. And how did he choose to spend the first? Ordering a prostitute, of course.

'I'm gonna die.'

Sweat poured off your bodies by the bullets, plastering stray hairs to sweltering skin as heavy pants and heady moans filled the space.

The slap of skin on skin was a mantra within the four walls of the cheap hotel room; its weak bed groaning under the force of your movements, smacking the wall hard enough it'd surely leave a hole.

"Please, fuck," hic! "no more-" Barbatos' voice was a hoarse cry, throat raw from screaming for so long. With every stroke, you fucked deep into his core, abusing his prostrate and bringing fresh, hot tears to his summer-green eyes.

He was on his side; one leg over your shoulder, held there by your strong hand, with the other wrapped tight around your waist, muscles jumping and trembling from the strain of such pleasure.

His hands were everywhere. Clawing at the sheets, your thighs, your arms, even gripping desperately at his own lonely breasts, nipples pink and perky from the abuse.

His dick bounced in time with your strokes, pre and cum alike flying. You adjust yourself, going hard enough to drive his reddened face into the pillow, drool spilling carelessly out the side of his mouth, and Barbatos screams. His eyes roll to the whites as his back arches, his orgasm seeming to shred his nerves and white-screen his already foggy brain.

And you? While he's clamping tight around you again, dragging his claws through your skin and making thin trails of blood run down your arm? You, while he's senselessly fucking himself on your cock through his orgasm, as if trying to drain your balls dry. You, who's moved one hand to his blushed, crying cock, and the other to his pebbled nipple, working him through it all?

You, you're...

Bending down to kiss him on his mouth, tongue sticking out to play with his as you take him by his knees and push them up to his shoulders. His feet are high in the air, still arched from his orgasm. His moans are swallowed by your mouth, eventually fading out into small whimpers as you slow your hips to a stop.

Cum connects your hips to his ass in sticky white strands. It's gross, nasty even, but you find yourself loving it. Maybe even loving him. You can't help but feel like its a waste of cum though... he'd be better off stuffed full, really. So full of your seed he'd see stars. Left with no choice but to become addicted to your cock, and you'd fuck him like this everyday because he cant live without it anymore.

Fill him up just like this, everyday.

The idea blooms in your mind as he pants out little out-of-breathe 'thank you's'. His eyes were drooping, his breath slowing...

You push his legs tight against his shoulders. The gasping moan when you slam your hips into him again, somehow even deeper than before, makes your dick twitch hard.

You get no more than a few strokes in, but they're life-changing. He can see the bulge in his stomach as you go in and out, see the hunger and determination in your eyes. The tears are streaming again and stars are (indeed) dancing around his vision as he cums again, this time with you right behind him. You're at his core, his deepest point, and you cum right there inside him.

Barbatos isn't sure how he could get any fuller, but he did. And how good it felt, to be pumped full of warmth like this. Even when you pulled out and it drizzled down his asshole, he was happy. But when you fingered it back into his opened hole, your eyes lowered in concentration, free hand clutching his thigh in a vaguely possessive manner?

He fell in love.

----

This wasn't as hard as I coulda gone, but I got all of October to write us fucking him better. Happy kinktober, enjoy!

[fizziepopangel]

"This face was made for radio!"

Alastor is aro/ace but his love language is touch. Having been abused by his father as a child caused him to have a deep seeded anxiety around touch, and now being a demon most fear being in the presence of, let alone close enough to touch in any way, he often ends up being touch starved since most refuse to be around the demon long enough to build any sort of trust that would lead to any sort of touch.

Despite his lone wolf attitude, Alastor has grown quite attached to Husk and Niffty his closest friends. Although Husk hates the fact that this relationship is based in the fact that he is quite literally bound to the radio demon and Alastor has threatened him on multiple occasions, Alastor still considers himself closest to the gambling man.

He views Niffty as a daughter which is why he seems to be just a bit softer with her in a way in comparison to how he is with the others.

Charlie made the decision that they would all have a ‘family dinner’ every friday night where everyone would take turns cooking, she even made a little chart to remind everyone whose turn it was to cook….. Alastor, was quite upset to find that he was the only one excluded from this chart because everyone was afraid his… “unique” taste was a bit too different from theirs given his cannibalistic tendencies.

Although Husk has a deep anger toward the man who owns his soul, he gave Alastor his night to cook for this family dinner after seeing how upset he was given that he was excluded from the cooking chart. Alastor was absolutely over the moon when he got the chance to cook for everyone.

He gravitates toward women that remind him of his mother. Even as an aroace man, he finds that they have a comforting aura and they remind him a lot of home, though he would never admit that to anyone.

Rosie was his first friend in hell and he hated being away from her during his seven year “sabbatical”. The second he came back, he went straight to Cannibal Town to see her, bringing flowers and dinner for the both of them so they could catch up over a nice meal.

Alastor has Husk contracted to him to serve drinks mostly…. But funnily enough, Alastor doesn’t drink very much anymore. A glass of wine or two every now and then, but he’s put most of his drinking days behind him and prefers tea for the most part.

Being quite the mama’s boy when he was living, he still celebrates his mother’s birthday and mothers day despite the fact that his mom isn’t in hell with him. On her birthday, he bakes her favorite cake, and on mothers day, he makes her a card like he used to as a kid even though he knows that he can’t give it to her, while he allows the cake to be eaten, he has a box full of cards he’s made for her over the years in his room hidden in his closet.

Husk, Niffty, and Rosie are the only people who he’s ever talked to about his parents. The radio demon has spent nights crying to Rosie about missing his mother and the home he grew up in, and he’s shown Niffty the photo he keeps of his mother and him from his time in the human world and shown her cleaning tricks his mother taught him… 

Though when he’s spoken to Husk about his parents, it was more like the two of them comparing how shitty their fathers were rather than Alastor talking about how he always thought his mother was a saint. Truthfully, he feels bad about it since he knows his mother was better to him than Husks’s was in most instances and Alastor’s mother always taught him not to brag.

Alastor and Vox used to be friends, but Vox misread their friendship and wanted more. Despite Alastor not wanting to end their friendship, it got weird after he rejected Vox’s advances and Vox got pissy because he hadn’t realized that the rejection had nothing to do with him but rather that Alastor just didn’t really have those feelings for anyone.Vox chose violence, and Alastor didn’t turn down the fight, leading to a feud that just continued to spiral into their current rivalry.

Although he hates the “noisy picture box”, Alastor and Rosie have little sleepovers at Rosie’s home in Cannibal Town where they often watch Hella Novelas together and trash talk the characters.

Alastor became a radio host before he became a cannibal.

His first cannibal meal was a horribly cooked rack of ribs that was served to him at a party after befriending a man who he thought jokingly said he ate other people….. But despite being overly cooked in the worst ways, it was still the best rack of ribs he had ever tasted.

Soon after his arrival in hell, Alastor published the #1 best selling cannibal cookbook in Hell by the title of “Friends For Dinner”. followed soon after by his other three cannibal cookbooks “Nice to (M)Eat You”, “101 Bloody Good Dessert Recipes”, and “Eat Your Heart Out: Valentines Recipes & Breakup Pick Me Ups”. And yes, Rosie has signed copies of each book displayed in her store.

[libby-for-life]

Title: Adam Dies

Summary: Adam dies. Or does he? When he's reincarnated back to when he was first created, Adam realizes that he has a chance to live a better way. One where he doesn't die nor does he have to make the same mistakes. Can Adam make a better future, one where he isn't so alone?

Chapter 1: Rebirth (preview)

Adam didn't really think he would die today. He actually came down to do the killing. Who would have thought that he would be stabbed in the literal back by some maniacal demon? He could hear her insane laughter as she stabbed him over and over again, burning firey pain running through his veins with each stab.

He felt her hop off him just as he heard the sound of Lute's voice yelling for him. "NO!" Adam whimpered in pain when he felt himself being rolled over. Lute's devastated face came into view. The first thing he noticed was that her arm had been ripped off, golden blood gushing from her wound. And yet, she was worried about him. He had never had someone look at him like that before.

He couldn't help but smile gently at her. Lute was loyal to the end and if it were possible, he would never forget that. He felt himself close his eyes as he heard Lute yell one last time. "ADAM!"

Darkness.

The darkness around him seemed never-ending as if he was stuck in an abyss with no way out. It was cold and lonely, and he couldn't see anything. Was this his hell? The thought crossed his mind more than once. He tried to shake it off, but the feeling of despair lingered. It was like a heavy weight on his chest that refused to lift. He wondered if this was his punishment for his sins. He was once Adam, the first man created by God. But now, he was nothing but a lost soul, floating aimlessly in the void of darkness. At first, he was filled with anger and indignation. After all, how could he, Adam, be confined to such a fate? He should be lounging in heaven, basking in the glory of God.

XxX

As he floated aimlessly, Adam's anger gradually faded into a deep sense of denial. He couldn't even begin to fathom how long he had been stranded in limbo. It seemed like an eternity had passed since he was cast out of Heaven. For he has to be or they would have come for him. But he held on to the hope that he would be brought back soon and all of this would be forgotten. After all, he was the first man and a pivotal figure in the creation story. He wasn't just anybody - he was somebody important! Surely, Heaven needed him. And God needed him too! Who would lead his army of angels without him? These thoughts swirled in his mind as he desperately clung to the belief that he would soon be rescued.

XxX

Adam found himself still lost in the pitch-black darkness, unable to see anything around him. He had no idea how long he had been drifting in this state, but it felt like it had been far too long. He realized as he had nowhere else to go, that maybe he had been too brutal in his killings when it came to demons. And yes, he could have been more attentive to the rules instead of skirting along them. If any could hear him, he's learned his lesson now! He would be much more careful in the future.

As he called out for help, he hoped that whoever could hear him would understand the gravity of his situation and come to his aid. Despite his pleas, the silence remained unbroken, leaving him feeling more alone and helpless than ever before.

XxX

The oppressive darkness seemed to stretch on endlessly, causing Adam's desperation to grow with each passing moment. He couldn't help but wonder if anyone would come to his rescue, but deep down, he knew that he was alone. After all, what use did heaven have for him? Lute, his right-hand angel, could easily take over his duties and the archangels were more than capable of carrying on without him. Perhaps it was only right that he suffer the eternal consequences of his actions. It was his own fault, he couldn't deny that. Adam had made grave mistakes, and now he had to face the repercussions of his wrongdoings.

It was fitting, wasn't it? If Lilith could see Adam now, she would be enjoying his eternal suffering. She was as beautiful as she was dangerous. Even in the idyllic setting of the Garden of Eden, Lilith was a force to be reckoned with. She was fiercely independent and determined to do things her own way, no matter the cost. He remembers how he would force himself on her, saying that God wanted this to happen and that it was their duty as His creations to do as they were told. He...didn't like it either but he didn't want to displease God in any way.

He learned the hard way that there was also a darker side to her nature, a ruthless streak that made her dangerous to those who crossed her. Adam made the horrible mistake of ever hurting her and paid the price when he was tempted to eat from that damned apple. Poor Eve, so innocent in nature. So dainty and submissive, the exact opposite of Lilith. He didn't like her either.

Eve was always hanging off of Adam, no matter what he did. Her amazement was unceasing and it seemed that everything Adam did was an incredible feat of strength and intelligence. At first, Adam was flattered by her constant attention and empty praises, but he soon grew tired of it. He couldn't understand what was so great about picking up a simple rock or performing other everyday tasks that he found mundane. Despite this, Eve would still cheer and clap in admiration, which only made Adam feel more annoyed. He wished that she would stop worshiping him for things that he considered to be trivial.

Eventually, he thought this was how he should be treated and expected as such when he first came to heaven.

Adam was now aware of the fact that Eve was a product of a highly patriarchal and oppressive system. The system had been designed in such a manner that after Lilith's rebellion had resulted in Eva being put in her place instead. Consequently, men and women were no longer considered equal. The angels, who had been entrusted with the task of restoring order, had decided to make women more submissive in nature. Adam supposed that this strategy had worked, considering there was no more fighting or rebellion against the order. However, despite the apparent success of this system, Adam couldn't help but feel unhappy. He couldn't shake off the feeling that something was fundamentally wrong with this situation.

As he floated in the dark, for how long Adam couldn't remember, it came to him. Love. He wasn't in love with Lilith at the time of creation nor was he in love with Eve after it. That was why he was unhappy during it all even after he ate the fruit of the forbidden tree. In fact, this was why he had eaten the fruit to begin with. He was so depressed with his life that he was willing to even sin if that meant change.

'And look where that landed you. If only he could do things differently, maybe you wouldn't have died.'

Suddenly, a yank at his core made Adam yelp in pain. What was going on? And then he knew no more.

So, what do you think of the preview? If you're interested in my book, Adam Dies, then go check it out!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/53883259/chapters/136385803

[sp0o0kylights]

Like the Wolf Steve/Eddie Werewolf AU

I  have so much of this stupid thing written and it’s stuck on ch. 2 so imma just throw all the pieces up here now. 

This is a werewolf AU, not an A/B/O fic. My version of Alphas and Omegas runs like a mixmash of Patricia Brigg’s, Ilonia Andrew’s, and Carrie Vaughn’s. There is no second gender, werewolves establish a hierarchy within a pack by who is most dominant/submissive, with two Alpha’s to a pack and Omegas being an extremely rare gift.  Direct eye contact is considered a challenge and society has evolved to accept multiple types of Packs, including ones that include others beyond werewolves. All is explained in fic.

Warnings: Period typical homophobia, Eddie having trauma responses/being bullied/being hunted, mentions of Chrissy’s bones going snappy snappy,  and a general mention of the delightfully dumb social/moral/ethical issues that paranormal creatures raise.

Eddie Munson was not anyone's idea of a proper pack Alpha. 

Nor was he the kind of guy people wanted in a Pack, (capitol P intended, because “Titles are important, Edward.” and fuck did he hate when adults called him that. He went by Eddie for a reason.) or anywhere near them, period. 

Experience taught him that even in a traditional Shifter town like Hawkins, filled to the brim with werewolves and not much else, people would pick literally anyone over him when it came time to pair up.

Witches, the Fae, hell, even humans were better than him in the eyes of his peers. They wouldn’t pick him to be their PE tennis partner if he was the last guy left, let alone allow such deep and familiar actions like “treating him nicely” or “waving hello.” 

Letting him in their Pack? Any Pack, from a “true” one with the whole bond thing and fancy magic, down to the stupid social ones that did nothing more than let you know who your friends or coworkers were? 

Perish the thought!

“My mom says you’re a total freak.” One of the old-blooded, rich brats had said in third grade, and the nickname had stuck like glue ever since. 

It followed him throughout the years like it was branded on his forehead, accompanied by a steadily growing list of insults.

Weird. Faggot. Failure. Lone Wolf. 

Other.

Different.

He'd tried long ago to stop letting it hurt him. The way they made him aware that he fell so outside the realm of what others considered normal that they actively shunned him. 

It took until his sophomore year to get good at pretending it wasn’t painful, and at least by his third attempt at graduating, he had it down to where others believed it. 

Had even carved out a place for himself, starting with the Hellfire club. 

Gone about, rounding up all the other undesirables, the outcasted freaks who just didn’t fit into the stupid little social circles or dumb hierarchies of small towns the world over. 

Took in Grant the human, and Jeff the half vampire and Gareth, who was sick all the time even though he was a werewolf. 

Then the small group of incoming Freshman who’d been too loud, too proud, and far too nerdy to walk the halls without some kind of protection. 

It wasn’t much, but for someone like Eddie?

It had been everything. 

Too bad he was in Hawkins, Indiana, where people like him didn’t get to enjoy things.

Not without bad things happening.

Really bad things. 

Chrissy Cunningham pulling an exorcist level of demonic possession, dying on his ceiling, and crashing down like a broken porcelain doll to the floor of his trailer level of bad things. 

Suddenly Eddie wasn’t just the guy who couldn’t follow the same societal norms as every other bland teenage werewolf. 

He was dangerous. 

Satanic. 

His freak status elevated from “guy with long hair and weird clothes who wouldn’t stop acting like he was an Alpha” to “wolf willing to exchange his very soul in order to bring about the end of the world”-or something. 

Eddie hadn’t really listened much to Jason Carver’s rabid ranting, but he got the gist well enough. 

It didn’t even matter that for all the magic in the world, demons and satan were more of a human concept than anything that had proven, hard hitting magic sitting behind it. Satanic panic was just in, and Chrissy-

He couldn't think about Chrissy. 

Not that the  truth mattered anyway. 

No, the only thing that did was that one of their golden children had died in their town. A town they built, full of old werewolf families and a handful of powerful allies, that catered to them. 

They needed reparation for the insult that had been brought upon their power. 

Eddie was just the convenient lamb they had chosen to slaughter. 

So here he was, outcasted by the whole town. Watching as the people who hated him collectively lost their minds, regressing back to the days of one singular Pack hierarchy controlling everything. Two Alpha’s to rule them all, with Jason fucking Carver was taking on the role as one of them. 

Screw all the centuries of the world that had built past that. The way society was no longer “letting the inner beast win” but was instead getting along, moving forward. 

Eddie hadn’t needed whatever had actually happened with Chrissy to know how much of a lie it was, but then he hadn’t planed on pulling back the facade either. 

To bad for you, you idiot. 

Not that there was anything he could do. Not with his van, stupid idiotic, easy to spot van out of commission, blown up transmission leaving him stranded not even two miles from his house. He’d exhausted himself just to get to the boathouse, knowing damn well that it wouldn’t make one ounce of difference if he’d bolted or called the cops. 

They were gonna lay Chrissy’s death on his head, and now his chance to escape their wrath had all but dropped to zero. 

Best he could do was hide. Wait it out. 

Hope whatever the fuck had gotten Chrissy wasn’t going to come after him too. 

The reminder didn’t help, that he had no idea what the hell had even happened. His  mind ran in circles with his terror, trying to make sense of it, but all he could think about was how he could leave this damn boathouse. 

How he could get out.

Out of Hawkins, out of Indiana, just fucking out. 

It was that terror, the surge of adrenaline and the pure knowledge that if anyone caught him, his chances of survival dropped to damn near zero that he blamed for not recognizing Henderson’s voice. 

Hadn’t even picked up on the younger wolf’s scent, he’d been so freaked out. 

Wired with the intensity of a cornered animal, Eddie’s wolf staring out of his eyes and firmly in control the second he realized he wasn’t alone and whoever was here was calling his name, and all rational thoughts went right out the door. 

Add in Steve fucking Harrington, former King of Hawkins High and total asshole violently poking around, and well. 

There wasn’t a thought to be had at all. 

Not in Eddie’s head, anyway. 

He’d attacked when hiding no longer remained an option, proud of himself for pinning the larger wolf to the wall, snarling like the devil they thought he was. 

And Harrington-Harrington let him. 

Put his hands up as he crashed back against the wall. Kept his eyes off of Eddie’s, kept his throat exposed until Dustin could talk Eddie down. 

Explain some things.

Explain all the fucking things, which didn’t help his situation, at all, but did at least help his overall mental state. 

“We’ll work this out.” Henderson had said, voice confident, and Eddie, exhausted, starving, haunted by Chrissy’s bones snapping every time he closed his eyes-believed him.

Even if it was the stupidest thing to do. 

Because for all his bravado, all his jumping on tables and loud speeches, the Throne he DM’d from and the Hellfire Club he ran-Eddie Munson had a secret. 

He desperately, desperately, needed someone on his side.  

Anybody. 

Especially now, when he could feel himself seconds away from falling apart, life ripped out from under him a second time. 

Pity this time round he didn’t have yet another Uncle to run to. 

(It took Eddie a long time, in that same boathouse, to realize that Harrington had never retaliated against him for Eddie’s attack. For pinning him to the wall in front of his Packmate’s and making him look weak with a broken glass bottle, of all things.  

 Had in fact, backed down. 

Which was a hell of a thing, when Eddie had discovered that the damn freshman hadn’t been fibbing for fun.

They really did have a little established Pack, bonds and all, and Steve Harrington really was the Alpha in control of it. 

A born werewolf from one of Hawkins oldest families, with all their rules, fancy parties and refusal to be anything other than the best and he’d let Eddie, trailer park trash and son of two bitten, made, werewolves, pin him down like a puppy. 

If Eddie hadn’t been wrestling with the existence of a hell dimension, hand made superpowers, and the reality of a world where humans were experimenting on species of various kinds, the long held treaty laws be damned while they raced the Russians to do fuck knew what, he might have caught on that Steve was just as different as he was, a whole lot sooner. 

As it was, he just remained exhausted, hungry, and very, very grateful for the stupid freshmen.) 

                                                         xXx

Shit hadn’t really gone sideways in the boathouse until the third time Henderson's little crew had dropped off food. 

Dustin took in the look on Eddie’s face when Steve had unloaded the honeycomb cereal box, like the man had just seen water in a desert, and outright cackled. 

Eddie reached out automatically, hooking his arm around the freshman’s neck and pulling him taught to his side. Dustin shrieked as he was put into a nuggie, Eddie spinning them as the younger wolf pushed ineffectively at his arms. 

“Say uncle!” Eddie taunted with a grin.  

“Ow, ow, Eddie!” Dustin whined, before finally going limp and shouting; “Fine! Uncle!” 

Eddie dropped him with one last hair ruffle, grinning widely at him. 

Dustin grinned back, even as he pretended to fuss at his hair and clothes. “God, it’s not my fault you just realize Steve adopted you.” He said, rolling his eyes dramatically. “Why you gotta take it out on me?” 

Eddie went to automatically deny that he was taking anything out on Dustin. He was just the youngest wolf in the Hellfire Club which meant by all the rules in the universe, he was the automatic target for all teasing. 

The the kids words sunk in. 

Sunk in the same way fucking teeth went into a steak, all sharp and deep and pointed. 

Eddie froze so fast he almost nailed his face on one of the overhanging oars. 

“What?” He said, positive he misheard. 

“Those are your favorites right?” Dustin said, pointing at the offending cereal box on the ground. “He’s always been like, weirdly good at knowing what his packmates eat. I’d say it’s an Alpha thing but it’s totally not.” 

“What.” Eddie said again, his voice coming out as more of a surprised croak. 

“Max insists he pays super close attention but come on, it’s Steve. I once watched him trip trying to do the dance from the Breakfast Club. It’s absolutely just like, his weird little superpower.” Dustin hummed for a moment, face scrunched up in thought. “Like, snack-sense. Stevie Snack Sense!” 

Eddie stared, the words “Steve adopted you” and “weirdly good at knowing what his packmates eat” ping-ponging around his head. 

Henderson’s grin grew impossibly wider. “Get it? Like Scooby snacks?”  

Then he laughed his weird little cackle again, ignoring the way Eddie had crashed like one of the shitty computers their school was so proud of owning. 

‘Danger alert, the Freak is overheating. Danger alert, the Freak is-’ 

“Henderson are you coming or what!?” Steve yelled, causing Eddie to jump and Dustin to spin around, shouting something rude back.

“Keep your walkie on, okay?” Dustin said, turning back with a worried look that would have been touching if Eddie had been paying any attention at all, before scampering off to have an argument with his Pack Alpha. 

The same one who apparently, allowed such things from whiny, teenage puppies, and also, was trying to adopt Eddie. 

Into his Pack. 

Eddie just stared after them, feeling vaguely like the world no longer made sense.

Probably because it didn’t.

[deancaspinefest]

Well, I Never Been To Heaven

Author: SamandDean76 | Artist: xfancyfranart

Posting on Saturday March 30

Dean Winchester is living a plain, ordinary, and boring life. Until one day a new student shows up in the little town of Spain, SD. It’s love at first sight, but then the unimaginable happens and Dean is left alone in his misery. Or is he a student attending Oxford University on a full athletic scholarship who finds a familiar face in his coxswain? Or is he hiking in the desert and attempting to save a known stranger? Or is he a traveler who stops for the night at a cheap motel and finds the pizza man of his dreams? Or is he none of those things? Just an unwitting victim of fate and destiny? Castiel had led the assault on hell, in order to save the righteous man and prevent the first seal of the apocalypse from being broken, lest hell should be allowed to reign on earth. In the aftermath of his disastrous mission, he is being held captive by Alastair, and his image is being used in a final, determined attempt to break Dean. But the profound bond that Castiel feels towards the pure soul won’t allow him to go down without a fight, and he makes a desperate prayer to set in motion a chain of events that might save him and his beloved mortal, or possibly, doom them for all eternity.

Keep reading for a sneak preview!

The demonic beast that seemed to be reveling in the pain and misery that he wrought on others smiled cruelly, as his thin, greasy fingers threaded through the short, dark wavy hair and clenched tight before they pulled the bowed head up. “Do you see?” The nasally whisper sounded in Castiel’s ear, as he tried to turn his head away, “Do you see how he suffers?”

Castiel did indeed see, truly he did. There was simply no way that he couldn’t. Chained in the heavily warded stockade as he was, looking on as Dean thrashed and whimpered, as he sobbed and cried out for the angel that he couldn’t even possibly know yet. As he pleaded for Castiel to be returned to him, begged that he might be taken in Castiel’s place.

It was all that Castiel could do not to snarl at the godless monster that held them, knowing that it would change nothing, except to possibly make the torture that Dean was suffering to be made even more heinous than it had already proven to be. Alastair was an old demon, one that had been around since the initial waves of demons had been created by Lucifer all those eons ago. His cruelty knew no bounds, and he was determined to destroy the righteous man. To draw him into his web of ceaseless brutality so that the first seal might be broken, so that the demons might be able to take the first steps towards the apocalypse so that they could raise their Lord and Savior from his prison deep within the bowels of hell.

But Dean Winchester had held firm, refusing to surrender to his baser urges and desires. Alastair had been torturing him for almost forty years already, and still, he had remained stalwart in his refusal to torment another helpless soul. Castiel’s garrison had been captured, and he was the lone survivor. Now held prisoner, his vessel’s image being used to cause untold distress in the almost broken mind of the one righteous man in all the cosmos that could bring about its utter destruction.

Castiel knew that he needed to act, and he needed to do so swiftly. Not only to save the mission from certain failure, but to save the pure soul that was being ravaged right in front of him.

“I know, I could always bring you back, and then let him see you die again. Hmmm. I like the sound of that.” Castiel could only glare at the demon, knowing that he was presently helpless. So, it was with a singular purpose that he issued his desperate prayer, knowing that he had been clearly forsaken by heaven. Choosing to seek assistance from the one who would hopefully be able to rescue them. If he were still alive. But more importantly, if he could be convinced that he was still needed. That the world he had forsaken heaven for was worth his further efforts.

And if he could be convinced that he needed to set aside his unhealthy proclivities long enough to see to the continued existence of all the many glorious works that their father had wrought.

“Gabriel, please. *I beseech you.*”

(continue reading on Ao3 on Saturday March 30)

[kyojurosprettygirl]

ok so... Gyomei and gorgon! reader? (like medusa) she turns ppl to stone of they look at her but he's blind, so he's immune. reader is very lonely and when she meets Gyomei they're happy to finally talk to someone. Gyomei also gets some eyewear so she doesn't hurt anyone else as they be together. she'd wear a cloak or hijab to hide her snakes. as they walk together and the snakes on reader's head also likes gyomei Hhehvibdnvjfnf

a/n: I love the way you think!!! GOSH, i feel this is perfect for Gyomei (UvvvU) I rarely see anyone write for Gyomei, so I was pretty excited to write for him, but very nervous as well! Since, I don't feel I know enough of his character, and as far as im aware, hasn't been animated in action that much. I can really only write him based on what I know from his wiki and manga... Hope this atleast meets your expectations!! also, because of my lack of knowledge in Hijabs, I decided not to use that as a cover for her snakes, simply to be respectful, apolgies in advance!!

love casted in the stones.

Gyomei Himejima x Gorgon! Fem! reader

a man with tremendous faith, who never once doubted his gods plans for him, how peculiar, you think. he had every right to give up on religion, would a god really cast blindness upon their child? hell, you see and hear your own brother curse the gods for who they made you and him to be on the daily. but, he never thought of it as a set-back, rather, a small exchange.

in life, balance is an important part of it to upkeep. the same way life does to death, and darkness does to light. unbalance would bring chaos, something you learned to understand. it cannot always be day, but it cannot always be night. to him, losing one sense simply acted as a sacrifice, let the illness take you, or, let the illness take your sight. losing your sight isn't a curse, its not something you'd willingly live without, sure, but what good will cursing the gods out because of it do for you? besides, you can't get it back, so why dwell on it? why dwell on something you cannot change? It is a part of you, why not embrace it?

but oh, does it get lonely...

.

"furukawa." your tone is stern and harsh, a drastic difference from the soft honey your tone usually held. he stutters and closes his eyes, furrowing his brows he sighs. you gently remove his prayer beads from his hands and kneel next to him, you look up at him expectantly and he kneels next to you. hes embarrassed you caught him in such a state.

having lost faith isn't something unheard of, it happens almost every day, infact gorgons are known to be faithless beings by default, but, cursing the gods you swear you don't believe in is unheard of. gorgons had no reason to believe in the higher powers when, lets face it, if they existed, they wouldn't curse the souls they created for no apparent reason. gorgons are faithless as a means to respect the gods, not to detest them. they know gods are supposed to love every being they sculpted, lead them to abundance and fortune, not into the hidden parts of the earth to live the rest of their lives as mere folktale and legends. but alas, 'lost' faith still lingers. deep down, gorgons still believe. the reason why is subjective, 'to each their own', but they all hold their arms out in hope. hope that they'll hear their desperate cries to allow them to live with the others who walk on the planet.

most your kind, mistaken as demons, had been killed in what the last of your kind knows as 'The Great Extinction'. you can't blame the humans, it was in their instincts to survive.. ugly faces that had snakes for hair...ones that couldn't wait to bite and poison you...glowing silver eyes that turn you to stone while your still alive, feeling the very painful change your body was going through.. your kind truly was demonic, but you didn't choose to live that way. You were innocent souls that had been dealt the unfortunate, forced to hide away simply for being born. it was a horrible fate, but, 'everything happens for a reason'

"it's a wonder this temple is still standing," you pause and look at him. he nods, his eyes casted to the floor. you tap his cheek and offer him a gentle smile, one he returns. "speak to me, Kaito." you place his prayer beads down, and face him. he opens his mouth to speak, but sighs. "i can't find the words." his snakes sensed his sadness and awoke to try and comfort him, but he simply brushes them away gently and orders them to stop. they sit still on his head the way hair naturally would, and close their eyes to rest once again. "we're not going to exist soon. after you and i die, that's it." you wince subtly and look to the side.

kaito and his grandfather had taken you and your grandmother away from where your kind had hidden themselves for generations, a group of humans having found it and planned an attack that killed them all. 'they've gotten smarter' kaitos grandfather said. 'used mirrors to kill us!' your grandmother shouted, anger filled her soul. after many weeks of hiding, once your grandparents deemed it safe to go back to your old home, you went back. you spent a year burying statues of those you called friends and family, and rebuilt one single home to live in. you and kaito went as far to bury humans statues simply because 'it was the right thing to do.' your grandmother died angry, and kaitos grandfather had died depressed.

"and maybe it's for the better, kaito." his brows furrow, frustration evident in his face. "we're going to all die out and never experience the way life was mean't to be lived. all we know is that demons walk upon us and eat everyone they see-" you pinch his arm, "we are apart of those demons kaito. that's what the humans see us as. monsters. they won't accept us with open arms, just one more issue to deal with. two of us versus millions of them. " he grunts. "you shouldn't curse the gods who keep us alive and hidden." he gets up. "oh, you mean the ones who keep us alive to mourn everyone whos died. keep us alive to hide and only see the sun for one hour a day. is that what we live for? is that what we thank them for? for absolutely nothing?" you stare and him and grab his prayer beads, gently fixing them into the correct position in his hands. you take your own prayer beads out and hold them, closing your eyes. "protect us. it's all i ask of you." kaito prays the same as you and smiles.

you and kaito venture out during the night, deciding to find ways to blend in as you traveled. for about two hours into the night all seemed fine, but a demon had made their way to you both, mistaking you as humans. she growled as she jumped at you and kaito, you and him barley missing her attack, and you looked at kaito for a plan. he shrugged and you realized she didn't turn to stone. your eyes widen as you speak, "she's immune to us, she's a demon.." kaitos eyes widen and he runs to grab you. he helps you to your feet and commands you to run. in a state of panic, you do as told, and its only when you hear a humans agonizing scream when you realize he wasn't following. "Kaito!" you scream, he turns around to face you and he looks afraid. You reach your hand out and run to him, "Kaito!" you scream again. He reaches his hand out to you, and your three feet away when a blade finds it's way infront of you, cleanly beheading him. You gasp and open your mouth to scream, it's silent. its once his head falls to the floor when you kneel down and find it in you to scream. You hold his head close to your body and weep. You look up at the demon slayer, making eye contact, and you don't realize your mistake until his arms are stuck in place. "im sorry! im sorry! im sorry!" you frantically repeat. his eyes widen and he screams in pain, you don't look away as you watch him turn to stone; punishing yourself. you made that bed, now you lay in it.

you stayed on the floor holding kaitos head until sunrise.

once you stood up, you analyzed the landscape and came to the conclusion that he had ripped off the demons head with his bare hands, his hands still having blood on them, and had made eye contact with the first demon slayers partner; turning her to stone, evident in the way her body stayed in a fighting position. mistaking him for a demon, her partner beheaded him, which led to the events that followed. you gently placed kaitos head down and lifted his limp body to drag him onto a bed of flowers near by. once you did you placed his head next to him and let the last few tears out. you grabbed the demon slayers and placed them near his body, gently, and placed yours and kaitos prayer beads around their neck.

.

"this is fucking sick." sanemi says. tengen looks at kaitos body and then the two slayers statues. "how disturbing.." he sighs. Sanemi looks at tengen, "so, what do you think this is?" tengen crosses his arms and looks at the scene again. "a demon, 's the only explanation." sanemi rolls his eyes, "Yeah, no shit. but what kind. we need to have an idea of what we're dealing with. we were sent to investigate and all you can conlcude is 'demon!'" tengen grunts and shrugs, scratching his head. "we won't know until we face it. for now, its just a demon that has the ability to turn people to stone." sanemi kicks Kaitos body, "and this?" tengen, not being able to think of anything shrugs at sanemi. sanemi hums to himself, "it might have the ability to turn humans into gorgon like creatures, having them do its dirty work,i mean.." sanemi pauses to pick up kaitos head from his dead snakes and holds it up for tengen to see. "snakes" tengen says. "well he's not a demon, he was beheaded and his bodies here, so he could be an extension that won't die until the main body does." tengen says, too serious for his liking he continues. "unflashy way to die if you ask me." sanemi stares tengen down and tengen laughs. "let's take this back, we need the others opinions as well." they make their way back to the headquarters to have another pillar meeting.

you spent what felt like years hiding in the forests, but it was only a few months. you only ever snuck into villages during the night to take food and maintain your hygiene, laying low for the rest of the time unknowingly giving people more reason to think of you as a demon and keeping the demon slayer corps on their feet. no matter what, the only evidence they had to go off of was village peoples words. there was too many people confirming you existed, but not enough proof that you were actually there. after those two slayers; they hadn't seen any more of people turning to stone, just stolen food and a shadowed figure with snakes sticking out of their silhouette. you weren't a danger to them. 'for now' they said. The master had decided to send a final order on your matter, to keep an eye out for you and if you were seen to behead you. You were no longer being scouted for, nor investigated, so you used this as your chance to freely wander around the forest as pleased, allowing yourself to indulge in the lushness of the earth. Kaito would've liked all of this.

it was lonely for the longest time, you hadn't used your voice in months and the forest became your home. you walked in its paths as a lonely soul, having forgotten the sound of kaitos and your grandmothers voice, so there was nothing to hold onto in those dark moments, deciding to allow yourself to get hurt by demons that crossed your path and only running when you heard foreign footsteps or when it got too painful.

.

your heart pumped in your chest, 'is this really what im doing now?' you thought to yourself. the cold wind caressed your sweaty body, cooling you down after your face off with death. the wind was silent, but created soft sounds with the trees leaves near by. you found yourself walking to the singular wisteria tree in the area, it was the biggest you'd seen and it was absolutely gorgeous. your snakes had awoken and they stayed still, a silent way to ask for permission, you giggle and say yes, they can play. they nuzzle your face and you begin to cry, an overwhelming feeling taking over you. you felt heavy weight come off of you as your snakes "stood" to play in the wisteria flowers. you laughed to yourself and let wisteria envelop your figure; finding comfort in such a beautiful sight , completely forgetting exactly what you were running from...

Mitsuri abruplty stops her chase, causing Gyomei to stop with her. "Kanroji?" Gyomei asks. she looks over at you as your engulfed in wisteria, completely fine, she stutters a little before getting her sentence out, "she's completely engulfed in wisteria, she seems completely fine." she gasps when she sees you grab into the flowers and cry, "she's grabbing it even, it's doing nothing to her! are we sure she's a demon?" Gyomei hums, "it's the only valid explaination Kanroji, she must be more powerful than we thought if she can withstand the wisteria." Mitsuri shakes her head, "No, Himejima! theres no way she's a demon. No matter what, demons experience effects from the flowers, if she only hurt three people, she's weak enough for it to paralyze her!" Gyomei nods, "i see." he states. They stay there and they debate their next move. "we must find a way to take her to the master." he says, Mitsuri hums in agreement, "should we just.." she pauses, "how are we going to do that.." Gyomei thinks for a moment, hearing your laughter causes thin tears to cascade over his face, "it sounds so innocent, so full of life" he thinks. "are you okay Gyomei?" mitsuri asks, he nods, "it's just because of her laughter." mitsuri quietly lets an 'oh' escape her, she always forget's that the smallest things can make him cry. she looks over at you and she can hear it too, she wonders how you can be so happy and caught in the moment. "mitsuri?" she looks over at gyomei, "Yes?" He turns his heaed to the sound of her voice, "can you describe her to me?" she smiles, "ofcourse, gyomei!" she takes you in and begins to speak after a moment. "She has many really long black snakes on her head, like hair it seems..and they're playing in the wisteria. beautiful eyes, ones that glow in a way similar to the moon. other than that, she looks completely human, as far as I can tell. she's wearing a black kimono, with small detailings that match the color of her eyes." she stares at gyomei expectingly, and smiles. "thankyou mitsuri" he says. she hums fondly as a way to say your welcome, and goes back to looking at you. she and gyomei begin to walk towards you, trying to stay far enough so that you don't get scared and so that you don't harm them. you hear mitsuri sheathe her blade and your head snaps to her, her snakes quickly snapping back onto your head and closing their eyes, going back to their usual resting state. you step back and cover your eyes, holding your free arm out. "no!" you scream, voice hoarse from lack of usage. "please," you get on your knees, "if i.." you let out a shakey breath, "if we make eyecontact, you will turn to stone." your lips quiver, and gyomei hears the almost silent whimper you let out. mitsuri steps back and looks away, urging gyomei to follow suit, instead, he plants himself in place. mitsuri isn't afraid, she just wants to make you feel safe enough so that you'll allow her to take you to Ubuyashiki. "does it apply to those who are blind?" he asks, and you calm down at the softness in his voice. "i don't want to find out." you say, and you panic as he removes your hand from your eyes. you gasp and shut your eyes. "she has her eyes shut Himejima.." mitsuri states. he closes his eyes, "my eyes are closed, you can look at me." you open one day to look at him, and it's then when you realize how much bigger he is than when you first saw him. he unexpectedly opens his eyes, and you panic at first, noting how he doesn't move, but then you realize he has no pupils. "so it must not apply to the blind then." he says, tears escape your eyes, "i guess not.." you say. you indulge in the moment, and carefully place your hands on his face, giving him an out. he doesn't move. "you.." you begin, your voice wavering. "i can look you safely in the eyes." you exhale a laugh in disbeleif and smile. he smiles back, being able to hear your smile. "you can." mitsuri softly says, trying her hardest to not look you in the eyes, and suddenly, your no longer conscious.

.

your body lays infront of them in the shaded area of the garden as four demon slayers keep their blades pointed at your neck. the pillars talking among each other, some bickering about what they think you are, as they wait for the master to make his appearance. "we had it under control!" mitsuri states, the lower ranked demon slayer huffs. "didn't seem like it. the sun was coming up and we needed to get that demon to the master before the sun killed it." gyomei sighs, "you are mistaken, she's not a demon. the wisteria would have paralyzed her if she was" mitsuri nods and huffs. the kakushi near by hits the demon slayer in the head. "watch how you talk to the hashira!" you wake up and gasp as one of the blade inchs close to your neck. you catch yourself before you look up at the demon slayer and push your head down, causing the other blade to dig intself into your neck. letting out a yelp, it silences all the hashira. they quickly look above their heads to avoid making eyecontact and meet eyes with gyomei. He can't see you, but he can hear you well enough to know where you are and looks your way regardless. you keep your eyes locked on gyomei.

.

after a very long meeting,not everyone is fond of you. you are a danger, a small mistake will lead to bigger ends. but gyomei still insists that you aren't, explaining what he knows to his comrades, trying to get them to understand. once the meeting ends, and you apologize to the master for having turned two of his children to stone. he gives you his condolonces for losing your brother, and you decide to stay where you were and face the wall. you weren't demon, but you might as well have been one, atleast then they'd have a reason to get rid of you, atleast then they won't feel like they'll have to watch out for you for the rest of their time in the corps. you couldn't go to the villages, but you couldn't stay out in the forest, you were split. Ubuyashiki decided to have you be under Shinobu's care, since she seemed the most levelheaded in the situation. She agreed, as long as the master gave her time to prepare the butterfly girls and until she knew enough about you. he agreed.

gyomei sits next to you, to keep you company he says. and you both sit there for awhile. just enjoying each others presence. you hum a lullaby softly, and you both stay in silence until the end of it. once you stop, gyomei speaks up. "what is it you said you were?" he asks softly, trying to keep the peaceful atmosphere. "a gorgon" you say, and he hums. "i see." you snicker at that, "no you don't". and you cover your mouth, you had forgotten he wasn't your friend, it might be seen as rude. you open your mouth to apologize and he laughs. "i'll give you that one, that was hilarious!" he calms down and clears his throat. "it's not often that people joke with me, especially about my sight. they fear they'll hit a nerve if they do." you breathe out, "i just thought i did.." he hums and smiles. "stone breather, they said," you start, you hesitate, "do you like, breathe real stone?" he snickers. "i'll explain it to you, if you explain your eyes and hair to me." you giggle and shake his hand in a flimsy manner, "deal!" you say.

"are they just, staring at a wall?" Obanai says. Mitsuri shakes her head quickly, "no, they're falling in love!" he nods to her as a way to say 'okay, whatever you say' and she walks infront of Obanai. "just wait!" she perks up, "you should've seen them when we first found her!" she puts her hands on her cheeks and fondly smiles at the memory. Obanai shifts in place and changes the subject, them both walking away as they leave you and gyomei.

[fanfictionalhooligan]

Oneshot: Dying in Husband!Haganezuka's arms〚WARNING: Severe angst and dark themes〛

This came from the following anonymous heacanon request:

"How would Hotaru react if his wife died in his arms? Or died in general? I love angst I devour angst."

For the art response, I will be repurposing drawings that ironically work well for this scenario under the right circumstances:

❖ - ❖ - Oneshot: Dying in Haganezuka's Arms - ❖ - ❖

“Out of my way –“

“Haganezuka-san, she’s in critical condition –“

“GET OUT OF MY FUCKING WAY! I’ll kill you!”

His voice was shrill and transforming into something unnatural at the words ‘critical condition’ and his eyes were wide with horror.

“Please, Haganezuka-san, it might be best for you not to be here right –“

“I’M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU – get out, NOW!”   

The Kakushi trying to block him from entering the room suddenly cried out in pain and recoiled, then stared down at the deep slash in his own arm in horrified disbelief. Haganezuka had struck a blow with his knife this time. No one had seen him actually do it before, despite so many instances of chasing Demon Slayers.  

The blade was dripping with blood as Haganezuka clenched the handle and marched forward; fear gripped the Kakushis around him like ice and they scurried away from him.

There she was.

His love. His Spring. The blossom that had emerged beneath the snow after a long, lonely winter. There she was - his wife, covered almost head to toe in blood-soaked bandages and IV lines hanging off of her like chains, laying silently and limply upon a cold hospital bed. Her gaze was dull and unfocused and anyone could tell that she was slipping away.

Haganezuka’s blood froze as he paced towards her, as if time had slowed for him to live every agonizing second of this hell. His arms dangled limply at his sides; the knife clattered against the floor, splattering the blood from the Kakushi’s arm as well.

The sound stirred her awake as if she could recognize it in her sleep. She must have known that her husband was nearby if there were knives around. Her eyes opened, focusing just enough to take in the familiar sight of his face. She smiled softly. “Hotaru…”

Her voice was hardly audible, so small and feeble. Haganezuka desperately rushed forward and threw his arms around her, lifting her entire upper body from the bed. “Y-you’re alive…” he whispered, unable to accept that it could change any moment. “The battle’s over. The demons are gone. We can finally live in happiness – hey, are you listening?” His voice shook as her eyes fluttered shut for a moment. His gaze travelled down to her abdomen and the pool of blood that had soaked through it.

There was a stained, crimson-red pole in the corner of the room that had been removed; his face grew pale when it registered that she’d been impaled with it. A pole – a fucking stop sign pole. Of all the things –

“Hotaru,” she murmured, as if sensing that he was about to murder everyone in the room for letting this happen. “It was Muzan. He was…” her voice was faint and almost didn’t finish the sentence. “He…tried to run…we stopped him…buildings and streets were destroyed…”

Haganezuka’s entire body was trembling uncontrollably. She was far too calm. “I – I get it,” he replied. “You don’t have to explain…just…”

She gazed softly at him with a smile. There was something about that tender, glistening gaze that welled up his eyes with tears, and they began streaming down his face and dripping down quietly into her hair. “H-hey…” he began. “Don’t go. Don’t go, you hear me?”

His throat grew tight when she simply kept smiling at him.

“Come on – don’t go, my love. Please,” he begged her. “The battle’s over! The worst is over –“

“Hotaru…” she whispered, making him go completely still as he held her in his arms. “I…I was waiting for you. I wanted to see your face…”

One last time. That was what she meant.

She’d only been holding on long enough to be able to see his face for one last time.   

“I’m here,” he whispered feebly, pressing his forehead against hers. “I’m here and I’ll stay by your side, okay? J-just stay with me, too, okay? Please!”

The Kakushis behind him somberly bowed their heads and quietly left the room.

Her eyes were glistening with tears, too. “Hotaru…I love you. I always will. Whether in this lifetime or the next. The sun will rise for us…”

The seconds were slipping away. “But you’re my sun, don’t you know that? If you d-don’t rise again, I can’t…”  Haganezuka’s voice finally broke into a sob when she closed her eyes and rested her head against his chest, so content to be in his arms with that beautiful, oh, so beautiful, fading smile of hers.

“I love you,” he whispered, holding her tight and his sobs making it almost impossible to speak. “Can you hear me, my love? I love you so much, and I wanted to show you that every day for the rest of our lives. I am the happiest man in the world when you’re there with me, and just… please…please stay.” He wanted her to hear every word, to keep listening, anything at all for just another moment with her.

Her eyes fluttered open just a crack, just barely enough for him to see the green of Spring before it faded back into the winter snow. “Hotaru…the rest of my life has already been the happiest because of you.” Haganezuka’s lower lip trembled as her voice grew quieter and quieter. “You’re here now…and I’m happy.” A single tear slipped out of her eye before it shut for the last time. “I only wish I had more time with you…and…”

She never finished the sentence.

Haganezuka went completely, utterly still. “Misaki?”

Silence. Only silence.

Dark, cold, hollow silence.

Her head rested limply against his chest. While her own had stopped rising and falling.

Haganezuka’s eyes widened and time froze, and the world around them felt like thousands of kilometers away. He slowly looked down and saw that the smile had never left her face – just because she was in his arms for her final sleep. It was at that moment, right then and there, that Haganezuka cried out and wrapped his arms tightly around her, burying his face into her hair, gripping her so tightly that the IV poles fell over as the lines were yanked.  The sobs wrenched through his body, choking uncontrollably and whispering her name now and then even though the sound of it from his own voice only made the tears multiply. Her body was shaking along with his as he cried.

She was gone.

And, after that, swords would be gone.

There were no demons left and they would likely be discarded like useless artifacts of the past.

Those two things, his beloved Spring blossom and his swords - all that had ever made any sense in his life - were taken from him. Just like that.

Haganezuka rested his chin against the top of her head, cradling her and rocking slowly back and forth as if she were simply sleeping and must not be disturbed. Somewhere inbetween his sobs, the glimmer of the knife on the ground next to him caught his eye. He grew still in the cold silence, his gaze suddenly fixated on the bloodstained blade and unable to look away.

Maybe…maybe she wasn’t that far away.

He slowly became possessed by the silence as he simply continued to sit there for hours, cradling his wife’s delicate body in his arms to make sure she could continue to sleep peacefully where she’d been happiest. He was allowed to mourn alone and undisturbed. No one noticed how far down the pit of silence that his demented eyes were staring.

Haganezuka reached towards the knife.

- End

❖ - ❖ - ❖ - ❖ - ❖ - ❖ - ❖ - ❖ - ❖ - ❖ - ❖ - ❖ - ❖ - ❖ - ❖

Are you okay? Because:

THIS IS NOT CANON EVEN FOR AN AU. NOPE. NOPE NOPE, NOT IN THIS HOOLIGAN’S WORLD. This is a “what if”and I cannot with this ending ever make it official. Consider it an AU of an AU for masochistic angst lovers xD

***To address the suicide implication: I was conflicted on whether it’s OOC for Haganezuka, with Demon Slayer being a lot about moving forward even when you lose everything. So in this case, I wanted to portray it more like he was at his darkest lowest point and having a moment of madness that someone else would need to pull him out of if they’re in time. It would be possible for the ending to be a “HEY STOP WHAT ARE YOU DOING” from Kanamori who storms into the room, knowing how impulsive Hotaru is and just having found out that his wife had died.

On another note, I had never intended to do another fic for Demon Slayer, but somehow nostalgia just took over me because I was actually well-known for writing horrific death scenes over at Fandom back in the day xD But damn this was painful.   

Anyway, if your heart is rekt, go read the true happy ending of this story here, come now. Don't worry, it's real.

I hope I did your headcanon justice, anon!

[finethingswellworn]

Re-watching the Job episode today and...

Throughout the long course of their relationship, Crowley challenges Aziraphale. He does this from their first meeting in heaven: "Why not put the Earth in the middle of the universe so the view's better."

He does it again in the garden of Eden. "Wouldn't it be funny if you did the wrong thing and I did the right one."

And again at The Flood: "You can't kill kids."

And with Job, too, although in a slightly different way. This time it's about what Aziraphale believes is right, yes, but I feel like for Crowley at least, he's also pushing Aziraphale's limits. Not so he falls or anything. Crowley never wants Aziraphale to fall. He knows it would utterly destroy him.

No, Crowley's trying to find out how evil, exactly, Aziraphale thinks he really is.

Of course, Aziraphale made reference to it before. "You're a demon." He believes evil is a demon's natural state of being.

What Crowley wants to know is whether Aziraphale truly believes evil is Crowley's natural state of being.

So, just like Satan and God test Job, Crowley tests Aziraphale.

"I killed those goats."

"I long to destroy the blameless children of blameless Job."

When Aziraphale says: "You're perfectly safe." And Crowley says: "Are you sure, angel?"

And Aziraphale is sure. There's never a point when Aziraphale is unsure, never a point when he thinks Crowley wants to go through with it, never a point when he thinks Crowley is evil.

So, Aziraphale passes Crowley's test.

But this, of course, is a huge contradiction in Aziraphale's worldview. If demons were all innately evil then Crowley, by definition, would have no qualms in following through hell's orders. But Aziraphale can never quite manage to grapple with that.

To Crowley, it's confirmation that they can be on their own side someday. He doesn't have to be lonely anymore. He thinks Aziraphale, like himself, doesn't need heaven or hell to dictate morality to him, that they know what is right and can work together to ensure nobody gets hurt amongst all heaven and hell's scheming.

The tragedy is that to Aziraphale, Crowley protecting the children is only a confirmation that the angel he used to know is still there somewhere deep down, that Crowley is unchanged from the fall, and that if heaven would only understand, he could be an angel again because he did good. And goodness and divinity are inexorably tied for him. Even though he acknowledges that there's shades of gray, he can't understand having one without the other, not fully.

And that's the central misunderstanding between the two of them.

That's how you get the ending we got.

Crowley: thinking that Aziraphale has learned at least a little bit to think for himself.

Aziraphale: thinking Crowley has aspirations of redemption that Crowley has never striven for, because Aziraphale hasn't yet unpacked all his biases.

[dollyyyhouse]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐮𝐦𝐩 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

An AU where the demons involved in the exchange student program have always plotted to sacrifice the humans in the program.

This is an edit! I'm adding some content warning because I originally forgot to add some :}

CW: Mentions and descriptions of violence, mostly a horror AU!

Poor sleep habits were common, nothing unusual for people like yourself, but ever since your arrival in the Devildom; sleeping peacefully seemed like a thing of the past. You began to toss and turn in your sleep, night terrors of violent scenes, all of which involved YOU playing the poor and helpless victim flooded your dreams, and those few seconds you faded in and out of sleep— you could hear ghastly cries for help to YOU and ineligible mumbling in your ear. Perhaps it was your mind playing tricks on you?

No. You swore it wasn't, the Avatars of Hell even explained the story behind the House of Lamentation. The macabre and brutal murders that took place and how poltergeist roamed the halls in search of either revenge or rest— for all you knew, you might have stood in the exact same place as a victim during the attacks! Were the same entities that had died in the murders the ones whispering and crying out for help to you?

Some nights, all you could do was helplessly lay in your bed, praying for a sun that would never come out. Oh, how you wished to see the light of day during those lonely nights. All you could do was find beauty in the little things; and that's exactly what you did.

One evening, you confided in the second eldest brother, Mammon, about your fears of living in the house, along with your night terrors. "Huh? What are ya' yapping about, human?" Mammon looked at you in a funny way, as if you were some weirdo. "Uh, well, I don't know," you let out an awkward laugh, "I guess it's just my imagination that's making me feel uneasy. You did explain that all sorts of ghost and ghouls exist in the Devildom." The demon laughed, "Aha! The Great Mammon is always right!"

"I told ya', stop freaking out over no big deal, not like anything can hurt you with me watchin' over ya'!" Mammon slung his arm over your shoulder, keeping you close, almost too close. It was like he always wanted to have power over you. Even if he didn't boast about it outright— Mammon, along with all of his brothers and the others involved in the exchange student program, were one step ahead of you. "Those dumb little ghost can't do anything. All they do is whine and groan about the past, just don't talk to them. " Little by little, you tuned Mammon out. You originally didn't mean to, you had just fallen down a rabbit hole of thoughts. When you realized he was still complaining about 'this' and 'that', you just grew tired of listening to the greedy man speak.

You parted ways from the demon, using the excuse of wanting to wash up and have some alone time in the bathroom. Truth be told, Mammon's words didn't soothe you at all. His statement about how the ghost only ever "complain about the past" struck a nerve with you, how could they not? Majority of them died pitiful deaths and were cursed to roam a house with a tainted reputation.

So, here you were. Fresh out of the bath, brushing your teeth and planning on heading to bed soon after. You spit out the left over toothpaste, glancing at your reflection in the foggy mirror before looking down into the sink, you resumed brushing, catching another glimpse of yourself in the mirror. You spit again, in the upper corner of your eye, you see a young girl in a tattered and bloody nightgown, you go to grab a cup — wait what?

Flipping around, you see no one. "Holy shit.. I need to get a grip of myself!" You mumble. Turning back to the mirror, a message appeared to form in the foggy and damp mirror. "Run." You weren't sure if that was the message intended, the writing looked as if a child had written it in a rush. Deep down, you prayed it was just a young poltergeist playing tricks on you, maybe the kid had eavesdropped on your conversation with Mammon?

You discarded your towels on the bathroom counter, hurrying over to your closet to dig for pajamas before someone saw you naked. Once you grabbed a nightgown, you quickly threw it on and jumped into bed— hoping that you could fall asleep before the monsters came out to play.

It truly seemed like everyone and everything around you was always one step ahead of you. When you shifted in your bed, you were met with a pair of eyes only displaying a mortified expression. When you blinked, they were gone. Retreating under the blanket, you curled up and made sure the blanket was properly tucked underneath you and that not even a toe would be seen; only allowing a small pocket of air for your nose. "I feel too much like a scared child right now, damn it, it's so stuffy underneath this stupid blanket!" Shutting your eyes, a pout formed on your lips and your brows furrowed.

The security of the blanket seemed to help you, because just a few moments later, you were slowly falling into sleep, but conscious enough that even a creak of a door would alert you. Usually the night terrors would wait until you were in a deep sleep to begin; but this time they begun early.

Your thoughts were hazy, you could barely keep up with the dialogue running through your dream, but familiar figures lurked throughout the dream.

"Stop this! Please! I thought I could trust you!" Those words fell from your lips, only to fall upon deaf ears. Your body moved on it's own, as much as it possibly could with the ropes holding your body into the shape of a star. "Barbatos, is everyone ready to begin our precious exchange student's graduation ceremony?" A grand voice spoke, the owner of the voice was all too familiar, along with the name he mentioned. Nothing made sense, but neither did the 8 other hooded figures surrounding you. All of the demons began to chant an unknowing curse, the man who spoke first stood beside you, wielding a large knife. "No, no, no, no, no! Stop, I did everything I was supposed to! I thought you were meant to keep the human exchange student alive no matter what!—" In a swift motion, the tall figure stabbed you in the chest, twisting and forming a shape in your lower chest to upper gut.

And just like that, you woke up and recollected all the other scenes in your night terrors. All had similar dialogue and the same hooded figures, almost everything was the exact same, besides a few scenes where your restraints broke loose due to "your" thrashing. The nightmares weren't of you, instead, you were only a replacement for the past exchange student who suffered a fate you were soon also going to suffer.

The poltergeist around you were only trying to warn you. The demons you thought of as friends were the hooded figures of the dreams! How could you be so stupid to trust a demon, let alone 9 demons?! Your heart race increased, it seemed like at any moment your heart would just bounce out of your chest and run away!

It all made sense, the highest ranking demons of Devildom were always PLENTY of steps ahead of you. You didn't know when, but soon, you were going to be betrayed and slaughtered.

[they-planet404]

hozier quotes that perfectly suit the ineffable husbands because combining both of my hyperfixations makes my brain go brrrr

“Heaven and Hell were words to me.” - Work Song

Crowley’s insistence that they’re not on Heaven or Hell’s side, they’re on their own side.

Aziraphale’s “I’ll make heaven worthy of Crowley again”, positive he can have both

“The only Heaven I’ll be sent to, is when I’m alone with you.” - Take Me To Church

Crowley’s same as above, Azi isn’t quite there yet, but there’s hope

“If the Heavens ever did speak, she’s the last true mouthpiece.” - Take Me To Church

Crowley’s vendetta against Heaven, that they’re not Good as they claim, but never against Aziraphale, he is the good in the crevice of the world

Aziraphale knowing that Crowley is good, deep down, and it doesn’t matter if they’re an Angel or a Demon because no Bad Person would do the things he does.

“There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin, in the madness and soil of that sad earthy scene, only then I am human, only then I am clean.” - Take Me To Church

They’re a demon and an angel, they’re not supposed to love, consorting with the other side is the fastest way to be punished, and yet their love is holy, their love is the closest thing to humanity that celestial beings are capable of, and their love will cleanse.

“Honey just put your sweet lips on my lips, we can just kiss like real people do.” - Like Real People Do

They are not people, and yet (hopefully), they love just like humans, in every way they are not meant to

“Each day you’d rise with me, know that i would gladly be the Icarus to your certainty… strap the wing to me, death trap clad happily, with melted wax I’d meet the sea under sunlight, sunlight, sunlight.” - Sunlight

They would destroy themselves for each other, would willingly go to their deaths for a taste of the sunlight that is each other.

Bonus point for Azi “You rise with me” to Crowley

“Heaven is not fit to house a love like you and I.” - Francesca

The Final Fifteen, S2 Ep6. Do I need to continue?

“It ain’t the being alone, it ain’t the empty home baby, you know I’m good on my own, it’s more the being unknown.” - Unknown/Nth

Crowley Isn’t Lonely, until he’s Unknown by Azi, that moment in the finale when he puts his glasses back on, the realisation Aziraphale would give up everything they had built together for Heaven (even if it’s not true), and the misunderstanding trapped between them.

“So I thought you were like an angel to me.”

“Where you were held frozen like an angel to me.”

“Going unknown as any angel to me.” - Unknown/Nth

Their storyline, written in smudged ink on the page. It feels so heartbreakingly obvious that any attempt I made to put it in words would ruin it.

“Do you know I could break beneath the weight of the goodness, love, I still carry for you.” - Unknown/Nth

Crowley’s thoughts as he watched Azi enter the lift, making the decision final. He hurt, he aches, and yet the overwhelming love that has only just been realised beats in his chest like a second heart, keeping him alive. The love, and all the heartbreak it brings, may break him.

“That I’d walk so far just to take, the injury of finally knowing you.” - Unknown/Nth

I am under the firm belief that Azi isn’t going to Heaven because he wants to, but so he can protect the earth that birthed his and Crowley’s love. He is walking away from Crowley in London, with the hopes that he can make a Heaven worthy of the Angel he knows Crowley is.

Anyway, that’s my heart breaking.

[anopoulos]

About Aziraphale.

GOOD OMENS 2 SPOILERS. LIKE ALL OF IT. ALMOST ALL OF IT. YOU'VE BEEN WARNED.

Look. I understand. I was angry too, when I saw the last scene. Because how could Aziraphale not know what Crowley wanted, right? How could he not know what Crowley needed?

But I feel like we’re mainly seeing this from the perspective of someone who’s seen Crowley’s (multiple) monologue(s) about his fall. How hurt he is, how angry he feels. 

Aziraphale wasn't there for any of these scenes, so how could he know?

The moment Metatron offered Aziraphale the post of the Archangel and the possibility of reforming Crowley, EVERY (ha) viewer knew that wasn’t what Crowley wanted. But that’s the thing. 

We know that because of things Crowley has never said to Aziraphale. Because this is one of the topics that they don’t talk about. That’s not part of their dance, never has been, apart from the usual “you’re different than me, that is why you do things the way you do” or the casual bickering. 

We don’t know why they don’t talk about it, we can only speculate. Maybe it hurts Crowley (we can see that he’s upset about it many times), maybe it’s uncomfortable for Aziraphale (because, deep down, he fears that the same thing might happen to him). 

But what we do know is that Aziraphale has never seen Crowley actively as happy with anything else around him (apart from himself, which I refuse to believe Aziraphale doesn’t realize) as he was when he was an angel. I believe that was the first scene of the season for a reason. But what Aziraphale doesn’t realize is the fact that Crowley wasn’t happy because he was an angel, he was happy because of his creations. He was proud of them (which may have been one of the reasons for his Fall in the first place). 

And something that we see during this season, is the fact that Crowley a) doesn’t seem as interested in the things he created when he was an angel and b) doesn’t even remember most of his life as an angel (maybe because he was forced to forget, which I don’t believe to be true, most demons seem to remember their lives before the Fall). 

So we know that, despite the fact that he’s hurt for having fallen, he has no true wish to come back. And that’s the thing I don’t think Aziraphale realizes. 

He doesn’t want to come back to Heaven nor to Hell, and we know why. He’s the one who convinced Aziraphale to save the world the first time around, in the first place. 

He likes living on Earth, he likes drinking wine and coffee, and listening to music, and taking naps and, sometimes, nibbing at some food. He likes watching action movies and cartoons. And he knows Aziraphale has his pleasures with the world as well (hence why the convincing to stop Armageddon worked so quickly). 

Now, what I feel like is, ever since the job mini episode, Aziraphale has had to come to terms, understand or simply acknowledge the fact that he's on "his own side". That's what Crowley told him, that's the side Crowley's on, and that had taken him by surprise. Especially because he ended up going "against god's intentions" by ultimately doing something good. 

Weren't angels supposed to be good? Why were Gabriel and the others (even Muriel) so unbothered by the death of three children? By the suffering of two parents who, ultimately, did everything right, in god's book? 

And also, weren't demons supposed to be evil? Why was Crowley helping him save these kids, if he was an enemy? He says he's on his own side (that sounds… lonely), but he still had done wrong things, hadn't he? He was one of the fallen. Surely it wasn't without reason. 

That was, I believe, the first instance where Aziraphale truly questioned the institutions of heaven and hell, good and evil, for what they were. 

And at the same time it was freeing to "go with heaven until you can", I believe this is perhaps the moment where Aziraphale feels the most upset about this. Because heaven was where he came from, so there must be some comforting memories, fond feelings towards it. 

So the information he gathered from this experience could be summarized to:

Sometimes, heaven (and god?) can go a little too far with the gambling of the human lives

Crowley is, deep down, good.

And based on what he knew from good and evil, it makes sense for him to think, at this point and time, that the "goodness" in Crowley is his angelic side showing up. Refusing to die with the fall. Persisting to show up despite everything that's happened.

And we see Aziraphale grappling with the notions of good and evil again and again with the other flashbacks, which I believe are essential, and were added with the specific purpose of, to understand Aziraphale's mindset. 

He realized he wasn't fully aligned with heaven in s02e2 and that had taken him by surprise. It was lonely, it was different than everything he's ever believed in (and we know he doesn't like change), so it was painfully clear, achingly obvious that at the first chance he got, he would go running back. It was safe, it was comfortable, it was where he was made and what he was made for. 

But. In the thousands of years he spent on earth, doing things a little more aligned to his own ideals, while at the same time trying to follow his original heavenly path, he had grown attached. 

To humans (a little bit). To food. To theater, to drinks (eventually), to books. And to Crowley. And all of these things are inherently intertwined. One came with another, in a jumble. If he lost one of them, he would lose all of them, all at once. 

So it is completely understandable that, the moment heaven (the place he missed terribly, the place he wanted to be good) offered him the two things he wanted most, he ran with it without much questioning. 

Of course he would miss the little pleasures. Coffee, his bookshop. But he would have Crowley. He would have Crowley happy again, creating Nebulae and stars, and he and Crowley would make heaven good. Worthy. Worthy enough for both of them. 

(We say that Crowley isn’t happy with the ways Heaven is managed, and that is true. But what is also true is the fact that Aziraphale has disagreed with the other angels [and GOD] times before. He, also, is unhappy with them, so of course he would take the chance to change that and run with it.) 

And that, I think, is the most heartbreaking part of the entire last scene they share. Crowley knows Aziraphale likes Earth. Loves it, even. And he cares about the things Aziraphale cares about. And, most importantly, Aziraphale knows that, too. He’s known that since the Church bombing. 

So when Crowley says “you can’t leave this bookshop”, Aziraphale sees that as “I know you care about this place more than anything, are you truly ok with leaving it behind?” and he’s so appreciative of it. Absolutely smitten.

He finally admits that he loves Crowley, and that he knows Crowley loves him back. How could he not? 

And Michael does SUCH a good job of filling that line with pure, unadulterated love, it makes me want to bawl my eyes out. 

Because this is Aziraphale saying “I see you care about me by caring about the things I care about, but I will be alright to leave it all behind if I have you by my side”. ALL IN THREE WORDS MICHAEL SHEEN ARE YOU KIDDING ME

But then, Crowley puts his glasses on. And he’s leaving, and he sounds hurt, and Aziraphale doesn’t understand why. He had heard Crowley’s monologue, and had called him to go with him, to be together, in Heaven. 

So he tries again. 

We’ve never seen Aziraphale this open about his feelings. He’s terrified to say it, but he does it anyway. He’s spilling out everything he’s been dealing with for literal thousands of years, and it must’ve taken so much courage to do so, and I can’t help but to be proud of him.