#Demon of the feeling blossom

[stars-and-clouds]

I made a thing lel

[quuerbee]

Just read ch 828 of the novel, and I have. SO many thought about chung mun and chung myung.

In this chapter Chung Mun gives Chung Myung the whole talk about how he can't do everything by himself. As we know, Chung Myung doesn't put this into practice until his second life, as the divine dragon.

Do you think Chung Mun ever blamed himself? In his last moments on that mountain range, do you think he blamed himself, or even the world, for leaving everything to Chung Myung? Do you think that as he laid there, bleeding out, he wished for nothing more than to be strong enough to support the boy he had raised? To stand beside him in his final moments, to comfort him, to tell him that it wasn't his fault?

Chung Mun raised Chung Myung into the man he is. His teachings helping Chung Myung, and in turn Mount Hua, years after he died. But sometimes I wonder what he was thinking about, laying on that blood soaked ground, as he watched his son go against that monster.

[catsockpuppet]

gay people 🙄

[aliceramblez]

Dating the Hazbin Hotel Residents 😈

Tags: GN!Reader, Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Mentioned Mature Topics (ie. Suicidal Thoughts, Alcohol Abuse, SA, etc), Spoilers For The Show, etc.

A/N: Ahhh yes, more brainriot for the pile 😌 I was more of a Helluva gal before the show aired, but now I gotta say these blorbos are a dear part of my heart! Hopefully y'all enjoy these as much as I did writing them!

Consider following my main blog @taruchinator for more solid content & feel free to leave a request here for future HCs~

Charlie 🌈

When the Happy Hotel first opened its doors and all of Hell started making a mockery of it, you were probably the only one who took it as a sign to try and improve from the low life that you were. It's not like you had anything else to live for, anyway.

As soon as you enter the building, you're immediately greeted by the bubbly Princess of Hell herself (along with a reluctant Angel Dust) who is more than happy to show you around and welcomes you with open arms.

You've never been shown this much kindness and sympathy for your situation before, so it naturally takes you aback and makes you wonder what the catch is. Turns out there's none and the Princess is probably the only sweet soul to live in this shithole.

As you grow closer, she asks you to drop the title and just call her Charlie. She also shares a bit about her situation and how her mother wanted to save sinners from the extermination each year, and now Charlie felt like it was her duty to continue this legacy until her dreams came true.

You can't help but feel touched over how much she cares, so you silently vow to yourself to help her in any way you can, just like she's done for you.

It doesn't take long before the two of you grow even closer and feelings begin to blossom, but you decide to ignore them since why would a Princess ever like someone like you?

But Charlie proves you wrong yet again, since one day she comes to you a blushing mess and confesses her own feelings, asking if you'd like to go out with her. You can't help but vocalize your shock since she could do so much better than a random sinner. She deserved better, too.

She looks at you with fondness in her eyes. “You've been by my side for so long and supported me every step of the way. Who wouldn't fall for someone like that?”

And thus, you are the luckiest person in Hell because you scored Charlotte Morningstar, and whoever says otherwise can get a knife to their throat.

She's the perfect definition of a sweet and patient girlfriend, never pushing you to do anything you aren't comfortable with (since you really aren't used to such adoration in a romantic relationship), but as soon as you give her the get-go, she'll be sure to shower you with as much affection as she can until the doubts in your mind disappear completely.

You aren't that far behind either. Albeit not as good as her, you do your best to be a comforting partner whenever she needs you. This is especially necessary after an extermination happens, which always leaves Charlie devastated and in need of a hug or words of encouragement because she doubts herself sometimes and wonders if the hotel is even working at all.

You remind her how it brought the two of you together, to which she smiles and agrees that at least something good has come out of it so far.

Vaggie 🎀

Both you and Vaggie used to work in the same legion under Adam with the rest of his exorcists. You knew of each other's existence, but didn't really talk much aside from whatever was needed in the midst of battle.

The day she spares a demon child's life, you're doing your rounds nearby and witness the whole exchange, including Lute coming over and ripping both an eye and Vaggie's wings for showing mercy. You don't know why, but it makes your blood boil.

“HEY! What are you doing?! It was just a kid, why not let it slide?”

And just like that, you become a target of Lute's rage as well, being ripped from your angelic status along with receiving a few nasty cuts, yet surprisingly not as bad as Vaggie herself.

Once the two of you are left to die, you immediately try to tend the girl's wounds with whatever you can. Vaggie can only stare in disbelief at what you'd done and questions why you even did so in the first place—now you were stuck just like she was.

“Guess I just don't like seeing injustice... Who knew Heaven could be so fuckin' shitty?”

You both laugh at the irony of it all, and that's when luck is finally on your side as Charlie finds you in the dirty alley and brings you back to the hotel to heal properly.

For the next three years you two stay at the Hazbin Hotel, helping Charlie in any way you can to try and make her dream a reality since deep down you hope that despite Heaven's corrupt system, there can be a small chance that souls can be redeemed. You hide the fact that you're ex-Anges though, since you don't wanna cause unnecessary drama.

During this time period, the two of you become better friends, having your own inside jokes regarding things you didn't particularly enjoy from your time as Angels, as well as learning more about one another.

You're the one to come to terms with your feelings first and decide to lay them on the table for Vaggie to see—she's always been a straight-to-the-point kind of gal, so if you're about to be rejected, might as well have it be done quick. But of course, she replies with her own declaration and desire to give a relationship a shot, which you're ecstatic about!

It's a bit hard at first since you never got to see much of romantic relationships in Heaven while training for murder every year, but you try and make it work. Both you and Vaggie work endlessly to try and make the other happy, and it only makes you fall for each other even more.

Also Charlie is your go-to wingwoman who will be there to give you the best advice to try and woo your girlfriend. She ships you two so hard.

Angel Dust 🕸

Working at a porn studio under an Overlord who owns your soul can be exhausting. You know this better than anyone since everyone who works under Valentino has contracts that won't let you get far with a leash. This is especially true with your friend Angel Dust.

You know about the things Valentino does to the spider demon—hell, everyone in the studio probably knows, but know better than to say anything about it. You're always there for Angel after particularly rough shoots, doing your best to comfort him in any way you can, though there isn't much you can do given you're in the same spot.

When he tells you he's moving to Princess Charlie's Hazbin Hotel, you're so happy for him! At least that will give him some distance from Valentino and his disgustingly filthy hands when he's not working.

This unsurprisingly doesn't bode well with the Overlord, causing him to throw fits of rage around the studio when Angel leaves for the day. You can't help but make a snarky comment that you definitely regret moments later.

“Can one blame him for wanting space from such an overbearing asshole?”

Without his favorite stress toy around, you end up paying the price for such comments. The kind of pain and suffering he puts you through is completely different from what you're used to. Is this the stuff he does to Angel? He leaves you naked, bruised and bloody in your room, and all you can do is muster what little strenght you have left to head for the Hazbin Hotel.

As soon as the door opens, you immediately tumble forward and start losing consciousness. The last thing you remember is Angel's horrified expression before it all fades to black.

Once you wake up and have been patched up, you explain what happened at the studio, and you could've sworn you saw fire in Angel's eyes as he holds on to you, fearing you might disappear at any moment. He begs you to stay in the hotel with him, and you agree without hesitation.

And so, your new routine of heading to work and then coming back to the hotel becomes blissful, not having to deal with that lunatic mothman more than necessary. You also get to spend time off with your best friend, which is always a plus.

Well, ‘best friend’ might not be the best way to describe it. You'd developed a crush on the spider demon even before this whole incident occurred, and now that you were spending more time with him, it only continued to grow.

With the line of work you two had, romantic relationships didn't seem to be a thing that crossed anybody's mind since why have a permanent partner when you could just go around fucking the hottest people in Hell? But you knew your feelings were far beyond from sexual, but didn't wanna ruin what you already had going for you.

One heartfelt drunken conversation after work however, makes you do a double take—Angel likes you back. And that both scares and excites you. But with both of you going over the pros and cons with each other, you decide to give it a chance.

You make sure to always have Angel's consent when it comes to physical intimacy—anything from holding his hand, to kissing to just cuddling. He jokes about not being a porcelain doll, but deep down you know he appreciates it.

You're also there for the rough nights, when he comes home wanting nothing more than to die again and let the earth swallow him whole. Words of reassurance are spoken and you can only hold him and let him cry as you vow to do anything in your power to stop this from happening again.

Husker 🍺

As one of the first guests of the hotel, like any wayward sinner, you find yourself in the bar more often than you'd like. Alcohol killed you in the first place, yet not even in the afterlife could you seem to pull yourself from its grasp.

It's a somewhat welcome surprise to find out that the bartender is going through a similar struggle. He still serves you drinks and lends and ear whenever he's not busy, but will occasionally drop the words of wisdom to watch your fill.

Eventually you two find yourselves doing this little back and forth and aid each other when you're in your dark places—Husk won't let you near the bottle if he sees you're about to knock yourself out, meanwhile you're there to look after him when he has one too many drinks and can't take care of himself.

Not to say he isn't a good drinking buddy—you've found out most of the gossip around the hotel thanks to this sneaky little cat demon and there's never a dull moment with him around.

You learn about his deal with Alastor during a particularly bad night, when Husk's had one too many and isn't thinking straight. You don't bring it up, but now have an eye open for whenever the Radio Demon drags your friend away.

Angel's the one who brings up your questionable relationship to the surface.

“So... you two like, fuckin' each other, or what?”

Your entire face goes red, and if it weren't for the dark fur you could swear you see Husk looking the same. He's quick to get rid of Angel's nosy ass, but now the seed has been planted in your brain—do you like Husk that way?

After careful consideration, you come to the conclusion that yes, you do. And it's honestly kinda terrifying considering how relationships don't usually work out in Hell, at least from what you've seen. Besides, even if you did try and confess, there was always the possibility of him not feeling the same and just being embarrassed by Angel's comment.

So in an attempt to make your feelings disappear, you stop frequenting the bar. Who knew the best way to stop drinking habits was trying to avoid spending time with your unrequited crush?

But of course, Husk isn't stupid. He sees the change in your behavior and let's it slide for a while, until he eventually corners you and asks what's wrong. You decide to get it all out of the way and tell him how you feel.

To the embarrassment of both of you, he holds your hand firmly between his and darts his eyes toward the corner of the room. “Next time you should ask before going off assuming things, ya got it?”

And so, your glass may have been empty that day, but your heart had never felt fuller.

Sir Pentious 🐍

You meet Sir Pentious when you sign into the hotel, and your immediate thought is just how can this snake man be so adorkable, it should be illegal.

As you greet the other residents and staff, you're quick to strike a conversation with him, which based on his body language he was not expecting. He starts telling you a bit about his weaponry and other contraptions, and you can't help but be fascinated by it.

You're a bit of a tinkerer yourself, albeit you've only dabbled in small scale projects—nothing compared to the massive canons and aircrafts that Pentious seems to be familiar with.

He acts like a kid opening gifts on Sinmas when he talks to you about his inventions, clearly never having anyone show interest before. Eventually he'll even ask for your input on certain smaller projects he wants to work on to help around the hotel, all to thank Charlie for being so kind to him and giving him a second chance. You're obviously eager to help!

You two start spending so much time together that the egg boys have started calling you ‘Boss #2’, much to Pentious' embarrassment and your amusement.

One afternoon once exercises are done for the day, the snake demon seems much more fidgety than usual as he invites you over to his room to continue working on his security system prototype. He's a blabbering mess once he has you sitting down and your heart just can't help but swell at each little syllable.

“Dearest (y/n)... you've, um, well... you are a huge inspiration for my work! A-And I wouldn't have been able to create any of this... without your help. You are kind, and smart and very talented.... and w-well, um I-”

You gotta silence the man with a kiss otherwise you two would be here all day. He's puddy in your hands and you can only giggle in return. “I really like you too, Pen.”

Everyone is either saying they called it or groaning in annoyance because fucking FINALLY, you two were just dancing around each other like idiots. The egg boys are just so happy to have someone else besides Pentious to be in their lives, and will do their best to look out for you just like with their own boss.

So yeah, prepare yourself for some sickeningly sweet gestures from this guy cause he will go above and beyond to get you what you need/want even if it kills him (again). And you can confidently say that you'd do the same in return.

Alastor 📻

After running in the same circles when you were alive, it's no surprise to you to end up in Hell, although you never would've suspected that you'd find yourself in the same place as him. It was honestly a huge relief not having to go through this all by yourself.

As Alastor exerted his dominance over Hell as the Radio Demon, you were powerful enough to be an Overlord yes, but rather liked keeping it on the down low instead of making a spectacle of yourself (Alastor was the one for theatrics anyway). Because of this, only select few knew of your true power and what you were capable of.

Instead, if there was one thing you were known for, it was being the only soul allowed to be close to the Radio Demon without the risk of death.

Yes, Alastor was a sadistic, cold-blooded and egotistical mastermind, but he wasn't a monster. You knew that better than anyone. Although the reactions he had to other demons treating you like a joke or calling you the ‘Radio Demon's Pet’ were not helping his case.

“ł₣ ɎØɄ V₳ⱠɄɆ ɎØɄⱤ ₴ØɄⱠ, ɎØɄ ₩łⱠⱠ ₩₳Ⱡ₭ ₳₩₳Ɏ Ɽł₲Ⱨ₮ ₦Ø₩ ฿Ɇ₣ØⱤɆ ł Ɽł₱ ł₮ ₳₱₳Ɽ₮ ฿ł₮ ฿Ɏ ฿ł₮...”

“Al, chill. You're gonna make them shit their pants.”

After his seven year absence, you immediately noticed something was wrong with him, and wouldn't stop pestering until he told you the truth—A deal he made and how his soul was now bound to someone much more powerful than he was.

You were obviously mortified and started looking into ways to try and find a loophole to this, but alas the Radio Demon would just give you his signature grin and tell you not to worry about it. It was his battle to face.

But of course you're quick to remind him that you've stuck together through thick and thin even in life, so there was no way you were letting him handle this by himself. You work as a team—always have and always will. You engulf him in a hug.

“We're gonna figure this out, Al. I promise...”

The grin remains, but his eyes widen slightly in surprise. He hesitantly returns the embrace, patting your back and wiping the tears you didn't even know you were shedding.

“There there~ To think such a sweet and innocent soul wound up in a gutter like this. I cannot say I complain as long as I have your delightful company beside me.”

And so when he says he has a plan that involves Princess Charlie Morningstar and her new Happy Hotel, you follow along. Whatever fate has in store for you two, you'll be ready.

Also Charlie is a sweetheart who could do no harm. Knowing Alastor, he'll probably do whatever he can here and there to help around for the cause. You also offer your services as an undercover Overlord, much to everyone's surprise when you reveal your status.

The Radio Demon may have a plan, but something tells you it won't involve bloody murder (unless extremely necessary or if someone really pissed him off).

Like you said—he's not a monster.

Lucifer 🍎

You and Lucifer were good friends at the beginning of Creation. While you were stuck with the tedious task of designing blueprints for the new ‘Human Project’ that headquarters had in store, Lucifer's Seraphim status allowed him to bring creations to life with the flick of a wrist, much to your delight and wonder.

His ideas and pitches for Earth were always so entertaining to listen to, and you would do your best to encourage him to show them to the higher ups to get them approved—His mind was just filled with joy and love and wonder that you'd never seen before.

Which was why it was always so disappointing whenever he'd come back and say that he was shut down and even mocked at. How could Heaven shut down such an imaginative mind in the creation of their biggest project yet?

To say you were devastated when you heard about his fall would be an understatement. You mourned the loss of your friend, knowing that he'd done nothing wrong and thinking it wasn't fair to him to receive such punishment just because he cared for the future of humanity.

Thousands of years later, you overhear the plan for Extermination of Hell kind. You didn't mean to walk by, yet here you were, under the direct eye of the Head Seraphims about to be downcast for something you had no control over—just like Lucifer.

“You're all self-entitled pricks! You think you can do whatever you want just because it doesn't follow what you define as good!”

You get a few good arguments before being cast downwards, leaving you in bad shape in a random alley with no wings and no means of escape. That is of course, until destiny seems to be on your side and Lucifer finds you, completely perplexed to see you here at all.

After getting treated, you tell him about the Extermination so he and Hell can prepare. The conversation of you getting cast down by Heaven gets glossed over, but he can feel the fury building up inside him. You were always doing things by the book—how could they do this to you?

Once the slaughter is over, Lucifer gets a meeting with Heaven and secures protection for both his daughter Charlie and you, to which they begrudgingly agree to keep him outta their hair. You can't help but feel touched by this gesture.

He's also quick to offer you a room to stay in, but you compromise by living in a seperate building from him and Charlie so you aren't a bother even though he says you aren't. In fact, ever since Lilith left, he's had to take care of his young daughter all by himself, so he's more than happy when you offer to help.

It doesn't take long for your feelings to start coming into the surface from all those years ago, and you gotta push them away because he's both married and has a child to look after! Besides, why would the King of Hell ever look in your direction?

Eventually though, he brings up the question with nothing but sweaty palms and a customized rubber ducky that says ‘I love you’ whenever you squeeze it. You blush furiously, but can't help but bring up your concerns, not wanting to replace Lilith in his heart. He looks into your eyes and says that he hasn't been as happy as he is now in the past thousand years.

Cue baby Charlie walking in on everything, and she just smiles and goes innocently. “Daddy! Is (y/n) staying home with us now?”

You two can only chuckle at the cuteness of it and you immediately go to hug her. You couldn't believe that you were blessed with such a wonderful family.

[forsworned]

husband simon breeding his cute petite wife. Mf got no mercy, if u don’t add dirty talk and slapping, ima come to ya house bbg

Warning(s): Breeding kink, Rough sex, AFAB!Reader, Degradation

I firmly believe that Simon would be gentle breeding his wife unless said otherwise.

He's syrupy sweet as he's digging into the flesh of your thighs, lifting your hips as he drives into you. Cooing saccharine pet names as he studies the way your face contorts in pleasure. It's always about you and Simon doesn't want it any other way. Directing all his attention to the resonance of your moans and the gooseberries that trail along your skin. Your body continually motions to grind against his pelvis and Simon halts his fervent ministrations to peer down at you.

He's tracing his fingers along the peaks of your breasts, dilated onyx hues fixating on your hardening buds. "'ll take care of ya, dovie."

"Simon—hah!" Another roll of his hips and you're clawing at his biceps desperately seeking purchase into anything. "Need to—fuck!"

"Tell me." He licks his thumb, coating it with his saliva and he's hovering over your clit. You part your lips to speak, but it's lost on you as he slowly starts to rub you out and slowly thrusts into you. He throws his head back a little when you clench around him.

"I want to—Fuck me! Fuck me hard, Simon! Please~" You practically sing out. And he's fighting demons. He knew that look all too well. Because every babymaking session has literally been nothing but slow, intimate, finger-intertwined, mind-blowing sex, but now you want it hard, rough, and dirty?

And that ignites an inferno in him. You're suddenly being turned around, face first, ass sitting up as he grasps onto your thighs and pushes them toward his body. Your small yelp melts into a milky moan when you feel his tongue lapping at your folds. Wet, squelching noises fill your ears as you lose yourself in the hazy euphoria that encapsulates your body. You shudder at the way he flattens his tongue against your clit, and you feel yourself clenching and spasming as you near your end, but he swiftly withdraws himself to fill you with his cock.

"Simon!" Your impassioned cry, causes him to buck his hips a bit as he runs his fingers through your hair and tugs it back so that you're half-facing him, and he hotly slots his lips between yours. His tongue sloppily swirls around your own and saliva drips from your mouths, muffling your conflated moans.

A sharp spank to your plump ass cracks through the air, as he roughly molds your cervix to his dick. "Ya like that don't ya, ya little slut?"

"Oh—fu—" Your half profanity is unfound on him as he feels your walls gripping onto him. The grin that stretches across his lips is raunch as hell as he makes you wail out in the most lewd way possible.

Another hot, welting spank to your ass jerks your body forward, but you're not going anywhere in his grip. "Such a little slut for me, aren't ya, baby?"

You can only nod in response, but he grips your chin between his taut fingers and your jaw is slackened as you peer up at his with misty eyes.

"Say it." He commands. And your lips contort into a giddy, toothy smile as you suck on his finger. His lips part as he pumps his finger into your mouth and the feeling of your tongue, causes him to suck in his bottom lip.

You let go with an audible pop. "I'm your little slut."

And with that, another smack to your ass sends you reeling as he hammers into you and suddenly you feel your clit being encircled. The excitement and the pleasure are too much for you as you become dizzy with that gratifying buzz that pushes you to the brink of your seventh heaven.

"'m gonna, Si—!" You whimper out as you feel a rich fire that is blossoming in your belly reach into every nerve of your body so pleasantly, leaving you warm and fuzzy. Your eyes are drifting to the back of your head and you feel Simon twitch inside of you and the warmth of his cum, spilling into your womb, coating your walls like he had intended. It felt so satisfying.

You're both heaving for a moment and his lips touch your shoulder and trail down your spine. A frisson runs up your spinal column and you're smiling like an idiot, with your cheek against the white linen pillow that was stained with tears and drool.

Simon slowly pulls out of you and you whine at the loss of his dick repleting in your guts, but he sighs in contentment when he admires the messy, opulent tumult you two had caused.

"Surely, that'll result in a child." He murmurs and then peers back up at you before you both end up in a fit of giggles and butterflies kisses.

But please feel free to run up on me, I'm prepared miss ma'am

Send me some reqs!!!

[hemipteran]

Do you hate Jewish people? You use the term lizard-people and that is coded for Jews

ur very funny little skinwalker lizard boy, tryna make me second guess myself disliking yall and shit. you know exactly who tf im talking about because ur one of them and u know it, lil poser illuminati boy scared of me bc u know exactly who i am. hilarious. and, would u like to explain to me how could i not dislike yall when u try shit like this. i fucking obviously do not hate jewish people. i dont even hate yall. i think ur a bit absolutely fucking ridiculous for good reason, but as aforementioned, yall are supposed to be my sons u just act fucking demonic as shit. and u know u do. which is why ur in my asks w shit like this. and then u continue w the nonsense instead of respecting me and being better. preeeetty gross. and god thinks so too. wahwahh. i think the jewish faith is very beautiful. u should know that bc u browse my blog obsessively and have obviously seen the posts appreciating jewish culture and their connection with god. something u shitheads lack. wahwahhh. jewish hanukkah wizard gonna fuck u fuckers up for real for real better watch out uglyboyz

[some-bunniii]

ayo some luci angst just popped into my head, like….

imagine Lucifer falling in love with an employee at the hotel but their soul is owned by alastor and like?? luci is not happy about that.

*slams google docs on table, opens random 1.2k wrd snippet #234* behold…

x: GN!reader, no use of y/n

EDIT: read the full fic here

“What is this?” 

Lucifer had asked suddenly, his pupils dilated, trained on something against your throat. 

You sat on the edge of your bed, thumbs rubbing together in a soothing motion as you watched him move closer to you. Gulping, you parted your lips to speak.

You didn’t get a chance to say anything, before his hand gingerly lifted towards you. His nail grazed against your collarbone, and heat blossomed underneath your skin from his touch. 

‘Please, just stop here,’ you silently begged, eyes squeezing shut as his finger rested against your figure, ‘don’t ruin this moment by digging any farther.’

Your reaction only spurred him, however. Lucifer’s eyes narrowed, his pupils thin slits now as he watched you.

Slowly, his finger trailed upward, skin brushing softly against yours as he traced the invisible force only a powerful demon could see. Your heart beat rapidly in your chest, every movement of his only quickening its pace. 

Until his hand stopped, right in the middle of your neck, and you felt a sizzling against your skin. The heat was becoming too much, and you wanted to pull away from his touch. You didn’t, instead, you tensed, deathly still before him.

A soft golden light illuminated from Lucifer’s palm, as his fingers wrapped around an invisible object. A shadow formed in his grip, and he tugged at it, that glow in his palm growing stronger.

Backing away, he pulled a long, thin chain from your figure, it snaked from your throat as it followed his grasp.

He yanked it harshly, as if trying to free you of a parasite that found a home deep in your bones. But it only dragged across the floor, refusing to dislodge itself from your body.

A thick, metal collar snuggly encompassed your throat. The chain locked tightly against it, a vivid reminder of your poor decisions.

Lucifer’s palm slid across the cold, metal links. Eldritch magic seeped from its form in the shroud of thick fog. Archaic symbols danced at the edge of your vision as its glow illuminated Lucifer’s unreadable expression.

The chain was a sickly green, its harsh glow an annoyance to his eyes. It was embedded with a dark, chilling magic. Whispers of untold horrors and ancient curses coiling around you, promises of a fate worse than death. 

Lucifer could practically smell it, that red demon's aura as it encircled around your frame. A twisted signature, practically scrawled across your forehead like a stamp of ownership.

Oh, the audacity of a person to take such a kind, selfless soul and rip it away from its owner. 

You weren’t some dog to be beckoned at the flick of a wrist. You were so much more than that, you deserved so much more than that. 

Yet here you were, the clasp around your neck like a shadowed hand, softly squeezing the life out of your eyes. He could see it, clear as day.

Small, white horns protruded from his head as he clenched the chain tighter. He tugged it once, twice, as if testing its durability. You leaned back slightly, the chain becoming taught between the two of you.

That collar around your throat kept you locked in place, as you watched him turn the chain in his hands. For a moment, Lucifer’s figure melded into the horrid shadow of your owner, and your eyes widened in fear at your delusion.

You could see it, feel it. Your stomach brushing the stained carpet beneath you with that haunting figure bent in a sickly, twisted angle in front you. That chain wrapped around the radio demon’s hand as he threatened you with terrible acts if you failed to stay in line.

Seeing your face contort into pained anguish only caused Lucifer to bare his teeth slightly, the sharp edges glinting in the light.

Seeing it so deeply entwined with your very being only further spurred the king’s anger. It seeped quietly from him, his grip tight against the chains as if trying to snap them with his bare hands.

“Who did this?” He hissed, his gaze boring into yours. He wanted to hear you say that demon’s name, wanted to hear you confirm the truth that was so obvious in front of him. 

You knew he wasn’t angry at you, but still you bowed your head slightly. Averting your gaze from his pleading eyes, shame slowly clawing at your stomach. For a moment, you felt like throwing up. Wanting to rid yourself of the terrible feeling that was seeping into your skin.

You felt like crying, or throwing yourself into his arms. Wanting to melt into his hold, and be told again and again that everything would be alright. That the most powerful man in hell would come to your rescue.

But, deals that bartered in souls are a much more difficult magic to conquer.

Fighting the urge to collapse into his embrace, you steeled yourself. Hands planted against your knees, back straight in a pathetic attempt to have some kind of power in this moment. 

Your eyes sullenly traced across the harsh links of the chain, its form all too familiar by now. Yet, it still caused such grief in your bones no matter how many times you looked upon it over the years.

Slowly, your eyes shifted to meet his gaze. Your lips curved into a frown at his expression, and your predicament.

How were you supposed to tell the love of your life your soul didn’t belong to you? That you were trapped in a deal of your own making? 

Curse that little fine line in your deal that kept your mouth sealed shut, that prevented you from uttering his name.

“I-I..” You desperately tried to speak, to tell him the truth, but that invisible hand that pulled at your tongue forced your silence. Tears pricked at your eyes, the desperation in them evident as your attempts to explain only died behind those pretty lips of yours.

As your mouth shut in frustration, Lucifer’s anger only heightened. His eyes flared into a blood-red glow, a harsh change from that soft yellow radiance you often found yourself lost in.

He pivoted harshly away, his voice contorting into a snarl as he stalked out of the room. His overcoat appeared atop his shoulders, and it swished behind him as he moved. 

Lucifer’s thoughts were too tangled with the images of his claws wrapping around the deal-makers throat to sit there and console you.

The tears that had threatened to spill finally rolled down your cheeks, your lip quivering as your eyes lingered on the doorway he had just exited. His thoughts too mangled with the image of his claws wrapping around the deal-makers throat to sit there and console you.

Placing your face into your hands, you sobbed quietly. 

Oh, how that regret had begun to consume you as you continued to wallow in your self-pity. 

Regret, for thinking that giving away your soul was a simple feat. That somehow, you’d still be happy after the fact. 

Regret, for falling in love when you knew the deal that kept you to that deer demon’s side would never allow you to enjoy such a fleeting emotion. No matter how hard you clawed to Lucifer’s soft embrace, that chain would always be there to drag you back. 

Those soft whispers of affections, of promises you couldn’t keep. Knowing, one day, that constant-smiling demon could play his little games and tear you away from your lover’s hold forever.

Oh, what a lovestruck idiot you are. 

thoughts?? this is just an interesting concept to me and i rlly wanted to share it with you guys! i woke up at like 4:30 am today and was like ‘what if..’ and this is what came of it haha

and mmm alastor makes a such a good bad guy too depending on the context x)

[krummholz-go]

The Final 15 - Aziraphale’s Perspective

I see a lot of empathy for Crowley’s experience during the final 15 minutes of season 2 and it makes sense that we feel deeply for him. What he is experiencing is very human - acknowledging the depth of his own feelings, plucking up the courage to say something, having it come out all wrong, feeling utterly rejected, and then walking away in a mix of pain and anger. Who among us hasn’t been there?

But Aziraphale is experiencing something more complicated, something fewer of us have analogs for. Aziraphale has internally acknowledged his feelings for Crowley for some period of time, probably at least since 1941. Michael Sheen confirms this mental state in a NYCC 2018 interview:

“I decided early on that Aziraphale just loves Crowley. And that’s difficult for him because they are on opposite sides and he doesn’t agree with him on stuff. But it does really help as an actor to go, ‘My objective in this scene is to not show you how much I love you and just gaze longingly at you.’”

Unlike Crowley, Aziraphale’s struggle isn’t acknowledging his feelings. His struggle appears to be two-fold: 1) believing that Crowley could ever love him back and 2) even if Crowley did love him, believing a future for the two of them together could exist within the restrictions of his larger world view.

Can Crowley love?

Angels are, traditionally, beings of love. We see Aziraphale embody this time and again, showing kindness and support to almost everyone he meets, including the amnesiac Gabriel who has treated him abominably in the past. He is attuned to love, remarking on how the area around Tadfield “feels loved” twice in Season 1. As for how Aziraphale personally understands and expresses love, he shows his love to others through verbal affirmation and, to a lesser extent, physical touch. There are many examples of Aziraphale expressing his love for Crowley through positive verbal affirmation, typically by praising him for instances where he has been kind, nice, or good. And on the rare occasions when Aziraphale receives verbal praise, he absolutely interprets it as an expression of love, blossoming with happiness.

But from Aziraphale’s perspective, it may be unclear if Crowley can feel love in the same way. Can demons love? Did he lose that capability when he fell? Crowley can’t feel the aura of love in Tadfield that Aziraphale remarks on, and his reactions to Aziraphale’s praise are always to shrug it off, tell Aziraphale to “shut up,” or in the most extreme case to physically slam him against a wall and get in his face about it. In this last instance he tells Aziraphale, “I’m a demon, I’m not nice. I'm never nice. Nice is a four-letter word.” A four-letter word, like love, that is not in Crowley’s self-defined vocabulary.

If Crowley can feel love, does he love Aziraphale?

Even if Aziraphale believes Crowley is capable of feeling love, he does not always recognize how Crowley expresses it in the moment. Crowley shows his love for Aziraphale through actions, but Aziraphale often misconstrues Crowley’s motivations. In 1793 when Crowley rescues him from the Bastille, Aziraphale initially assumes Crowley is only there because he is responsible for the Reign of Terror. Similarly, in 1941, Aziraphale’s reaction to Crowley’s appearance is to assume he’s just part of the Nazi gang, saying,“I should have known. Of course. These people are working for you!”

Crowley doesn’t help matters in this regard because he is constantly muting and undercutting his signals to Aziraphale. Every time Crowley expresses his love for Aziraphale through actions - rescuing him, saving his books, even taking him to lunch - he does so in a nonchalant, dismissive manner, indicating he ascribes little value or importance to the actions he has performed. “I just didn’t want to see you embarrassed,” he says when he appears in 1941. And when Aziraphale positively glows with happiness about his books being saved, Crowley tells him to “shut up."On top of these confusing signals, Crowley is almost pathologically incapable of expressing his feelings in the verbal love language that Aziraphale can understand. This is heartbreakingly demonstrated in this scene after the bookshop fire:

Crowley can’t even say “I lost you.” Instead he speaks of Aziraphale in the third person while sitting in front of him, saying, “I lost my best friend.” The little hitch on Aziraphale’s face when he hears this is just devastating. Who is Crowley talking about? The last conversation they had before this scene was when Aziraphale called while Hastur was in Crowley’s apartment and Crowley said, “Not a good time - got an old friend here.” Aziraphale is left to wonder - is that who Crowley means when he says "best friend?" Crowley is everything to Aziraphale, but what is he to Crowley?

How Would It Even Work?

Even when Aziraphale does get flashes of the possibility that Crowley may care for him he immediately runs up against his second mental block - there is no world he can imagine where they could be together. When Crowley first suggests running off together in the bandstand scene in S1E3, Aziraphale collapses under the thought: “Friends? We aren’t friends. We are an angel and a demon. We have nothing whatsoever in common. I don’t even like you.”

While he is obviously in denial, Aziraphale is also under tremendous stress in this moment and is desperately trying to hold onto some stability by falling back onto his world view and ideology. In this state he backpedals all the way to “I don’t even like you.” In his understanding of the way the universe is supposed to work, he and Crowley are hereditary enemies and should not even be friends, much less in love. Aziraphale expresses this core belief throughout the series. What kind of existence could they ever have together in reality?

The Final 15

With this as a background, we can better understand what Aziraphale experiences in the final 15 minutes. Even before the Metatron enters the scene, Aziraphale begins to have his fundamental beliefs challenged which puts him off his footing. The revelation that Gabriel and Beelzebub are in love is deeply impactful. When Beelzebub says “I just found something that mattered more to me than choosing sides” and takes Gabriel’s hand, Aziraphale immediately reaches out to make contact with Crowley, a look of incredulity on his face. Here is proof that demons can feel love and that an angel and a demon can carve out a space together. The road may be difficult, but it is not impossible.

Before Aziraphale can digest this revelation the stakes are ratcheted up: Michael threatens to erase Aziraphale from the Book of Life due to his part in hiding Gabriel. The future that Aziraphale has just barely glimpsed is already under siege. It is at this point that The Metatron enters, offering Aziraphale not just survival and protection, but a version of everything he has ever wanted.

If Crowley is reinstated as an angel, Aziraphale will no longer have to wonder whether Crowley is capable of feeling love. And if they are both angels, there will be no conflict inherent in having a life together. In one fell swoop, the Metatron entices Aziraphale with a future where there are no remaining blockers to an eternal, loving existence with Crowley. It will be “like the old times, only even nicer” because they now have millennia of their shared history to build on together. Of course this logic is horribly flawed and does not take into account at all what Crowley wants, but in the moment it must feel like an enormous gift to Aziraphale.

Unfortunately, not only is Crowley’s reaction to this “incredibly good news” not what Aziraphale expects, the conversation quickly takes a baffling turn for him. Crowley shuts down the talk about returning to heaven and attempts to say what he wants to say. Sadly he once again utterly fails to speak in a way that Aziraphale can understand.

The audience knows what Crowley is trying to say because we have the context of his earlier conversation with Maggie and Nina. But Aziraphale lacks that and thus can’t understand where this is coming from or what it means. Rather than expressing his feelings as Beelzebub and Gabriel did, Crowley recites facts: we’ve known each other a long time, we’ve been on this planet a long time, I could always rely on you, you could always rely on me. He can’t even say the word “couple” when he describes them, referring to them more as colleagues with words like “team” and “group.” And the one time he does try to express his feelings and desires he is physically unable to get out the words: “And I would like to spend—.” He then retreats into his old plea to turn away from heaven and hell and run off together. Nowhere in Crowley’s confession does Aziraphale hear “I love you” or even “I want to be with you.” What he hears instead is what he’s heard multiple times before - Crowley wants to abandon both heaven and hell and default to just the two of them. From Aziraphale’s perspective this will not solve anything for them. They will still be an angel and a demon, at some level fundamentally separated by their very natures.

Having failed in his speech, Crowley then does two things in rapid succession that must be excruciatingly painful for Aziraphale. First, he does the opposite of verbal affirmation by calling Aziraphale an idiot. We have seen Aziraphale become physically radiant in the rare instances where Crowley has praised him, so a direct insult like this must feel poisonous. Then Crowley makes a last desperate attempt to communicate through Aziraphale’s other love language - physical touch - by initiating the kiss. But without context or understanding of what is behind it, Aziraphale can initially only experience it as forceful, angry, and shocking. With more time to parse it I think Aziraphale will come to understand Crowley’s meaning, but in the moment it must feel manipulative and borderline cruel.

The Results

In a very compressed time frame, Aziraphale has to move quickly and radically through multiple mental and emotional states. For 6000 years he has believed he and Crowley cannot be together. Suddenly, with the revelation of Gabriel and Beezlebub, that foundational belief is challenged. Before he can work through what that could mean for him and Crowley, the Metatron offers an even cleaner solution - they can be protected from retribution and be on the same side again. When Crowley rejects reinstatement wholesale, it makes Aziraphale feel that he and his loving offer of a life together have been personally rejected. Then that rejection is further confused through the shocking experience of the kiss which Aziraphale does not have adequate context for or time to understand and integrate. In his emotional turmoil, Aziraphale falls back on his default crutch for dealing with sadness and anger - forgiveness - which further cuts him off from Crowley. Taken all together, this is a tumultuous rollercoaster of whiplash emotions that pull at every part of Aziraphale's self- and world-views.

Compared to what Crowley is going through, I think Aziraphale is going to have the tougher road in Season 3. Crowley may still need to better reconcile and integrate his feelings for Aziraphale, but Aziraphale has 6000 years of foundational ideology to challenge and evolve to reach a place where he and Crowley can be together as their authentic selves.

[halloweenbitch2764]

When They Get Feelings For You

Slenderman

Your consistent visits are what started his initial crush. Nobody had ever made such an effort for him. If there was a day you couldn't come, you would tell him the day before. Even small gestures such as that only solidified his feelings.

Getting to learn more about you made that little crush grow. You were similar enough, but in the same vein, you were also different enough. You were your own person with your own thoughts. Having the powers he did, he was used to people following his every word. Well... mostly. Having someone with an independent mind and considerate heart just made the crush blossom into more. You being so cute was just the cherry on top.

BEN Drowned

For him being a demon that appeared out of your television, you were pretty chill. You didn't judge him for smoking weed, and you were wicked good at video games. He was used to consistently and easily winning, so when you gave him a run for his money, his heart jumped.

You'd offer him snacks when he was over and made sure to keep some of his favorite munchies snacks in your pantry. You didn't pry about his background. You were respectful of his boundaries. His background was still a sensitive subject to him, and your tenderness about it made his heart leap.

Eyeless Jack

Your openness to him eating kidneys was the catalyst. He didn't expect you to be okay with something as vile as that and understood that you didn't want to watch him eat them. But you would let him eat them in your house.

He was by no means talkative, but he enjoyed the conversations you two would have. You were so opinionated but, at the same time, willing to change perspectives if you were proven wrong. He enjoyed how attentive you were when he would talk to you about the human body and different medications. No human would give him the time of day unless he forced them to, and then that whole scenario lost it's charm. Your personality and looks opened his heart to y

Hoodie

Similar to Masky, you gave him a more stable existence. College made his disappearances just look like he had to catch up on class work. You never questioned why he wasn't able to hang out, and you never pried when he'd give you a shitty excuse. After meeting you, though, he thanked the stars that he had asked to sit next to you that first day. He almost didn't approach you. You were in your own little world. So pretty. And you had only grown more attractive.

He loved when you would ramble about your hobbies and things you liked. He could sit for hours at a time and listen. Your voice was so sweet. It made him feel safe. It was safe to say you were becoming something of a home to him.

Masky

A hint of normalcy. That's what started his crush. You gave his life stability. He even cut back on his cigarette breaks because of you. You didn't question why he would disappear for days at a time despite his shifty excuse about it being work related. You helped make sure he took his medications on time.

He was petrified you'd find out about his Masky state. Masky was so unpredictable and dangerous that he prayed you two would never cross paths. How do you explain that to someone? That you becoming a murderer, controlled by an Eldritch abomination. He didn't want to think about it. So, he allowed himself to develop feelings for you. You were kind and understanding. Maybe he could allow himself something so nice for once in his life.

Jeff The Killer

Jeff had secretly had a crush on you since high school. He always thought you were pretty and *may* have stalked you on a few occasions. Just the way you were so nice and had your own group of friends made him envious, but not necessarily in a negative way. More like he wanted to be like you.

He thought you moved gracefully and honestly didn't expect you to be so open, considering he had broken into your house the first couple of times. Hell, he didn't expect you to remember him at all. He may be an asshole but your kindness forms a yin and yang with him (in his opinion).

Laughing Jack

For being a child murderer he sure liked how nice you were to Lily. It's what made him want to meet you in the first place. Lily talked a lot about you. She always talked about how much she liked being at your house, going out to the park and mcdonalds with you, and just other small things.

He grew to love how quickly he could make you blush and how pretty it looked on you. You were just so pretty in general. You made his days less gray. You added pops of color to once monochromatic moments. How was he NOT supposed to fall for you?

[cerezzzita]

— aesthetic words to fill up your vocabulary ♡

✦ if you're tired of using the same repetitive words to describe feelings or actions on your writing, here are some aesthetic words that are not frequently used to help you evolve your vocabulary better and also maybe help you with creative titles <3

ABENDROT: the color of the sky while the sun is setting.

ABIENCE: the strong urge to avoid someone or something.

ACHROOUS: colourless.

AEQUOREAL: marine, oceanic.

AESTHETE: someone with deep sensitivity to the beauty of art or nature.

ALIFEROUS: having wings.

AMITY: warmth and heartfelt friendliness in a friendship; mutual understanding and a peaceful relationship.

AMORIST: someone who is in love; someone who writes about love.

AMBROSIAL: fragrant, delicious.

ANTHOMANIA: great love for flowers.

AQUAPHILE: someone who is an enthusiast of all things related to the water.

ARENOCOLOUS: living or burrowing in sand.

ASPERSE: change falsely or with malicious intent; attack the good name and reputation of someone.

ASTERISM: agroup of stars; a constellation; a cluster of stars.

ATTAR: essential oil or perfume obtained from flowers.

AUREATE: golden or gilded; brilliant, splendid.

AURICOMUS: with golden or yellow colored foliage.

AVIOTHIC: the strong desire to be up in the air or to fly.

BALTER: to dance artlessly, without particular grace and/or skill but usually with enjoyment.

BATHIC: pertaining to depths, especially of sea.

BELAMOUR: the one who is loved; a beloved person.

BELLICOSTIC: aggressive, belligerent, warlike.

BENEFICENCE: the quality of being kind or helpful or generous.

BERCEUSE: a quiet song intended to lull a child to sleep.

BLÁFAR: indicating the freshness and beauties of youth or health; attractive and possessing charm.

BRONTIDE: the low rumble of a distant thunder.

BURBLE: to speak in an excited manner.

CAELITIS: the divinities who dwell within the celestial planes.

CATHARSIS: the release of emotional tension, especially through kinds of art or music.

CELERITOUS: swift, speedy, fast.

CERAUNOPHILIA: loving thunder and lightning and finding them intensely beautiful.

CHEVELURE: the nebulous tail of a comet.

CINGULOMANIA: a strong desire to hold a person in your arms.

COCCINEOUS: bright red; scarlet.

COCKAIGNE: an imaginary land of luxury and idleness.

CONSTELLATE: to eluster; to compel by stellar influence.

COSMOGYRAL: whirling around the universe.

CORDOLIUM: heartache; heartfelt sorrow.

CORUSCATE: to reflect brillantly, to sparkle.

CRAMOISY: of a crimson color.

CREATURELY: a person who is controlled by others and is used to perform unpleasant or dishonest tasks for someone else.

CRYSTALLOMANIA: an obsession with crystals and other crystalline objects.

CHRYSALISM: the amnotic tranquility of being indoors during a thunderstorm.

CLINQUANT: glittering with gold and silver.

CLYSMIC: cleaning, washing.

CUPIDITY: greed for money or possessions.

CYANEOUS: a sky-blue color.

CYNOSURE: guiding star; a object of common interest.

DARKLING: of or related to darkness.

DÉCLASSÉ: having fallen in social status.

DEIFORM: god-like or divine in nature.

DEMERSAL: that lives near the bottom or a body of water.

DESIDERIUM: an ardent longing, as for something lost.

DISPITEOUS: cruel and without mercy.

DOUX: sweet, soft, mild, gentle.

DRACONTINE: belonging to a dragon.

DYSANIA: the state of finding it hard to get out of bed in the morning.

ECCEDENTESIAST: someone who fakes a smile.

EFFLORESCENCE: a period or state of blooming, blossoming.

ELEGY: a poem of serious reflection, typically a lament for the dead.

ELEUTHEROPHILIST: someone who advocates free love.

ELYSIAN: beautiful or creative, divinely inspired; peaceful and perfect.

EMACITY: desire or fondness for buying things.

EMPYREAL: pertaining to the sky; celestial.

EPHIALTES: a nightmare; the demon Incubus that supposedly causes a nightmare.

EPICARICACY: the joy that results from others misfortune.

EREMOPHOBIA: the deep fear of stillness, solitude, or deserted places.

ETHEREAL: extremely delicate, light, not of this world.

EUMOIRIETY: happiness due to state of innocence and purity.

FLORENTIS: abounding in flowers; being in bloom and adorned with plentiful flowers.

FREICEADAN: guard, garrison, watch, sentinal.

FULMINATE: cause to explode violently and with loud noise.

FURCIFEROUS: brat; rascally, scandalous.

GLOAMING: twilight, dusk.

GRAME: anger, wrath, scorn; sorrow, grief, misery.

HALCYON: calm and peaceful; happy, prosperous.

HELLION: a rowdy or mischievous person.

HELIOPHILIA: desire to stay in the sun; love of sunlight.

HEAVENIZE: to render like heaven or fit for heaven, to purify and make a holy place or a person.

HENOTIC: promoting harmony or peace.

HIRAETH: a homesickness for a home you can't return to, or that never was.

HOLILY: belonging to or derived from or associated with a divine power.

HYPNAGOGIC: the state immediately before falling asleep.

IGNICOLIST: a worshiper of fire.

ILLECEBROUS: attractive and alluring.

IMPLUVIOUS: soaked with rain.

INCANDESCENCE: light produced by high temperatures.

INCALESCENCE: the property of being warming.

INCENDIARY: designed for the purpose of causing a fire, likely to cause anger or violence.

INEFFABLE: too great or extreme to be expressed or described in words.

INSOUCIANT: free from worry, concern or anxiety.

IRENIC: aiming or aimed at peace, promoting peace.

IRIDESCENT: producing a display of rainbow-like colors.

INVIDIARE: to envy.

ISOLOPHILIA: a strong preference and affection for solitude.

KALOPSIA: the delusion of things being more beautiful than they really are.

KALON: beauty that is more than skin deep.

LACONIC: expressing much in a few words.

LACUNA: a blank space; a missing part.

LATIBULE: a hiding place, a place of safety and comfort.

LAMBENT: to glow or flicker softly. Luminous, light or brilliant.

LIMERENCE: the state of being infatuated with another person.

LONGANIMITY: still suffering while planning revenge.

LOUCHE: disreputable; morally dubious.

LUCELENCE: the state of being fine and beautiful; shining, brilliant.

LUCIFORM: resembling light in appearance; having, in some respects; the nature of qualities of light.

LUMINESCENCE: light produced by chemical, electrical or physiological means.

MALTALENT: the negative emotions of wanting injury or harm to befall someone; a hostile behavior or attitude towards someone considered an enemy.

MARMORIS: the shining surface of the ocean.

MAZARINE: a dark blue color; rich blue or reddish-blue color.

MELIORISM: the belief that the world gets better; the belief that humans can improve the world.

MÉLOMANIE: an excessive and abnormal love and deep attraction to music and melody.

MERCURIAL: subject to sudden or unpredictable changes.

MESMERIC: appealing; drawing attention.

MORDACIOUS: biting or given to biting; biting or sharp in manner; caustic; capable of wounding.

MORPHEAN: of or relating to Morpheus, to dreams, or to sleep.

MOXIE: courage, nerve, determination.

NEBULOCHAOTIC: a state of being hazy and confused.

NEFARIOUS: wicked, villainous, despicable.

NEMESISM: frustration, anger or aggression directed inward, toward oneself and one's way of living.

NERITIC: pertaining to shallow coastal waters.

NOETIC: of or associated with or requiring the use of mind.

NOIRCEUR: the state of being pitch black in color; a state of lacking illumination.

NUBIVAGANT: wandering in the air, moving through the air.

NUMINOUS: spiritual or supernatural; surpassing comprehension or understanding; mysterious.

ONEIRODYNIA: restless, disturbed sleep, characterized by nightmares and sleepwalking.

OPHIOMORMOUS: snake-like.

ORPHIC: mysterious and entrancing, beyond ordinary understanding.

PAVONINE: characteristic of a peacock; resembling the tail of a peacock; as in colors; iridescent.

PETRICHOR: the scent of rain on dry earth.

POIESIS: creation; creative power or ability.

PORPHYROUS: purple; of purple hue.

PLAXONDRY: the mix of introspective nostalgia, sadness, and calmness felt when listening vaporwave and its related genres.

PRATE: to talk excessively and pointlessly.

PROCELLOUS: tempestuous, stormy.

QUIDDITY: the essence of something.

QUIXOTIC: extravagantly chivalrous or romantic; visionary, impractical or impracticable.

RANTIPOLE: a wild, reckless young person; to be wild and reckless.

REDAMANCY: the act of loving the one who loves you; a love returned in full.

REDOLENT: having a strong distinctive fragrance; serving to bring to mind.

REMEANT: coming back, returning.

RESPLENDENT: having brilliant or glowing appearance; dazzling and impressive in appearance through being richly colorful or sumptuous.

REVERIE: a state of being pleasantly lost in one's thoughts; a daydream.

RODOMEL: juice of roses mixed with honey.

ROSEATE: rose-like; overly optimistic.

RUTILANT: glowing or glittering with red or gold light.

SANGUINEOUS: accompanied by bloodshed.

SASHAY: to strut or move about in an ostentatious or conspicuous manner.

SCIAMACHY: a battle against imaginary enemies; fighting your shadow.

SEQUACIOUS: lacking independence of originality of thought.

SERAPHIC: beautiful and pure; having a sweet nature befitting an angel or a cherub; of or relating to an angel of the first order.

SERENDIPITY: finding something good without looking for it.

SKINT: having little or no money avaliable.

SOLIVAGANT: someone who wanders or travels the world alone; a solitary adventurer.

SOMNIATE: to dream, to make sleepy.

SORTIGER: delivering prophecies of the future; having the qualities of being oracular.

STELLIFEROUS: having or abonding with stars.

STELLIFY: to transform from an earthly body into a celestial body; to place in the sky as such.

SUCCIDUOUS: ready to fall, falling.

SPUME: a white mass of bubbles or froth on the top of a wave.

SYNODIC: relating to or involving the conjunction of stars, planets or other celestial objects.

TARANTISM: the uncontrollable urge to dance.

TEMENOS: a sacred circle where no one can be oneself without fear.

THANATOPHOBIA: fear of death.

TYYNEYS: the state of peacefulness; absent of worry or fear, being composed and at ease.

ULTRAMARINE: beyond the sea; greenish-blue color.

VELLEITY: a wish or inclination not strong enough to lead to action.

VENERATION: a profound emotion inspired by a deity.

VESPERTINE: in or of the evening; setting at the same time as, or just after, the sun.

VERDANT: with plants and flowers in abundance.

VERMEIL: a liquid composition applied to a gilded surface to give luster to the gold.

VERTICORDIOUS: to turn the heart from evil.

VIOLESCENT: tending toward violet color.

VORFREUDE: the joyful anticipation that comes from imagining future pleasures.

WANDERLUST: a strong desire to travel and explore the world.

WHIST: to hush or silence; to still, to become still.

cerezzzita©, 2022 · all rights reserved

[slutforalastor]

you never thought this day might come, sat down with the Radio Demon's head in your lap, his gaze lazy and half-lidded as he allows you, generously, so generously, to touch the pronged antlers that extend from the top of his head. His lips pass soft white noise as you run a finger from the base to the tip of his antlers, the vibration that you can feel beneath the hard exterior somewhere between the hum of a domestic appliance and the throb, throb, throb of a heartbeat

You can feel Alastor's shoulders tense up whenever you put too much pressure on them, his calm breathing briefly interrupted every time you push his sensitivity past his tolerance. Each time you find yourself being too exploratory, you correct yourself back to the safety of gentle strokes, letting your fingertips soak in the unique texture. They are somewhere between the firm smoothness of exposed bone, like his teeth when they drag across the topmost layer of your skin, leaving perfect streaks too shallow to bleed, too pronounced to refute their creator, and the spongy give of delicate flesh. You know the trust he's imparted to you to be given this kind of access; not only does he so limit incoming touch, but resents any reminder of his reincarnation as a prey animal.

"I'm surprised you're okay with this," you murmur to him, so unwilling to compromise the sanctity of this moment.

"Only because it is you," Alastor assures you, his tone just as hushed.

You continue, relishing in this opportunity. You explore every hook and divot of the black extensions, marveling at the current of demonic energy that pulses through them. It was your impression that they only grew when Alastor was angry, but not quite: any overwhelming passion, be it joy, theoretically speaking, or fear, or sadness, and they will billow out. You wonder if you can elicit such a response. Your opening gambit is strong: you lean into his ear, whispering "If anyone else were to do this, you'd tear them apart, wouldn't you?"

"For even less than this, dearest. I'd assumed that was obvious."

"But not me?"

"But not you."

"Maybe I want you to tear me apart, love."

The first sign; you feel a shift through the skeletal system they're connected to, a tremor of recognition, of sudden awoken desire.

"I'm sure you just aren't aware of what you're asking for."

"No, I'm all too aware. You want something deeper, too, don't you? It can't be enough just to meet in such a temporary union, only to separate. I want you to bring a little piece of me along with you, knowing you've claimed more than just one part of me, but any you desire."

He shudders, deeper this time, and you feel growth. Sharp edges and deeper curves sprout like curling ivy where there had once been certain ends, like a blossoming tree bursting into life. Your loving strokes down the length of his antlers grow deeper, more pronounced, almost incessant.

"What game are you playing at?" Alastor pants, his breathing hitching every time you push against them with any kind of firmness.

"I love seeing what you do."

His body has seized, but doesn't do anything else. You can feel the efforts of the sinew across his back against your lap. Best of all are his facial expressions; his initial contentment has evolved, firstly into surprised, the edges of his bladed grin peeking out from his thin lips, his eyes squinted and playful. Now it's become a look of desire, his mouth open slightly, droning a steady song with no melody but a captivating refrain, nonetheless. His eyes plead with you; so uncharacteristic, for him to be putty in your hands. To think you could hold the high ground in any situation, much less as a result of this.

"Don't toy with me," he warns, but his voice doesn't sound assured. It sounds needy, like a request for more.

"I would never, love."

"Then end this teasing," he begs.

You do as he asks, taking your hands away from his antlers. With some strain, he manages to get his breathing back under control, his antlers receding like the retreating tide, back to their typical size. "Did you enjoy yourself?" you wonder, after he's calmed himself.

He looks at you with mischief etched in his features. "Not as much as I'm sure I will soon enough." ~~~

[akazzzaa]

A/N- I saw this on Pinterest and thought it was so cute so I wanna try and write about child! reader x demons (platonic obvs) Credit goes to the artist @lll_123_lll

Summary- Short story for each demon interacting with a human child- Kokushibo, Akaza, Douma, Hantengu, Gyokko, Daki

Genre- Fluff

Warnings- None

Kokushibo

As Kokushibo walks through a peaceful village, he notices a small child playing with a wooden sword. Intrigued by the child's innocence, he decides to approach and kneels down to the child's level. The child stopped and looked at him wide eyed, '' Are you a samurai, mister?'' Kokushibo expression softened, ''Indeed, little one.''

The child jumped up in excitement, ''Wow, Can you show me some cool moves? Pretty please!?''

For a moment, Kokushibo, contemplates the request. Surprisingly, he decides to humour the child. With grace and precision, he performs a series of fluid sword movements, creating an intricate display of swordsmanship.

The child clapped in glee, '' That was amazing! Can I try too?''Kokushibo hands the child a small, wooden practice sword, showing them a basic stance. The child mimics his movements, albeit with less finesse. ''Excellent effort, young one... With dedication, you may become a skilled warrior.''

Douma

''Why do you have fangs? Are you a scary monster?"

Douma was taken aback but then chuckled softly, amused by the innocence of the child. "These fangs are a part of what I am, I need them to eat!''

The child, not completely satisfied with the answer, pointed to Douma's mouth and said, "Can I see them up close? I want to look!!''

Douma hesitated for a moment, contemplating whether to allow the child to get so close. However, he had no ill intentions and decided to humour her curiosity. With a nod, he opened his mouth wide, revealing his sharp fangs. Unfazed by the intimidating sight, The child leaned in closer to inspect the fangs. She reached out tentatively and touched one of them with her small fingers.

"They're sharp," she observed with wide-eyed wonder.

Douma, surprised by the child's boldness, couldn't help but smile. "Indeed, they are. But remember, appearances can be deceiving. It's essential to look beyond what you see on the surface."

Akaza

The moment the girl spotted Akaza, her eyes widened with excitement. She approached him fearlessly, her curiosity overcoming any apprehension she might have had. "Wow! Your hair is so pink! It's like cherry blossoms! Can I touch it?" she exclaimed, her enthusiasm contagious.

Akaza, taken aback by the girl's boldness, hesitated for a moment. Demons were not accustomed to such innocent interactions. However, something about the child's pure fascination touched a chord within him. "Uh, well, it's not something people usually ask," he replied, unsure of how to respond to such an unusual request.

The little girl beamed, undeterred by Akaza's initial uncertainty. "Please? I promise I won't pull it or anything. I just want to feel it! It looks so soft and pretty!"

Akaza couldn't help but crack a small smile at the girl's sincerity. Slowly, he nodded, allowing her to approach. Gently, she reached out and delicately ran her fingers through the strands of his pink hair. The texture surprised her, and a giggle escaped her lips. "It's softer than I imagined! Your hair is really nice, mister demon!"

Akaza found himself chuckling. Emboldened by the positive response, the girl continued to play with Akaza's hair, creating impromptu hairstyles and sharing her infectious laughter.

Hantengu (Main body)

The child's eyes fixated on the peculiar lump on Hantengu's head. "What's that big lump on your head?" she inquired, her concern evident in her voice.

Hantengu's faces displayed a mix of embarrassment and discomfort.'' I- I dont know, I've always had it! I'm not lying this time either!''

The child, being a compassionate soul, couldn't bear to see anyone in distress. Without a second thought, she took a step forward and planted a small, innocent kiss on the lump. Hantengu's face immediately transformed into expressions of surprise and gratitude.

"There, now it's better," The child said with a smile, her eyes sparkling with kindness.

Hantengu, touched by the child's pure heart, felt a warmth spreading through his body. "Thank you, little one. You possess a kindness that is rare even among humans."

Gyokko

Gyokko observed the child doodle in the dirt with a small stick, a display of untapped creativity. Intrigued, Gyokko decided to share his passion for painting with the young artist.

Gyokko teleported beside the child. In his hands, he conjured a set of vibrant paints and brushes, as if summoning colours from the very air. The child's eyes widened in amazement as Gyokko presented the tools of creation.

"Art is like the dance of a butterfly," Gyokko spoke, his voice gentle like a breeze. "Let the colors flow, and your heart guide the brush."

Gyokko dipped his brush into a pool of blue paint and began to demonstrate fluid strokes on a blank canvas. the child, fascinated, mimicked the motions with a mixture of excitement and concentration.

Gyokko and the child painted side by side, creating a masterpiece that mirrored the beauty of their newfound friendship.

In the quiet of the night, Gyokko spoke words of encouragement to the child. "Every stroke tells a story, and every colour holds an emotion. Let your imagination soar like a bird in the sky, young one."

Under Gyokko's guidance, the child discovered not only the art of painting but also the power of expression and self-discovery.

Daki

Daki's beauty was enhanced by the intricate layers of silk, vibrant colours, and elegant accessories. She moved through the crowd gracefully, her presence drawing both admiration and whispers. Unknown to her, a wide-eyed human had been trailing behind, mesmerized by the ethereal vision.

With her innocent curiosity, tugged on the hem of Daki's exquisite kimono, her eyes filled with admiration. Daki, though known for her short temper, couldn't help but soften at the sight of the little girl.

"Wow, you look so pretty!" The child exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with wonder.

Daki turned her attention to the child, a small smile playing on her lips. "Thank you, little one. You seem to have an eye for beauty," she replied, her voice as silky as her attire.

Undeterred by the imposing aura of a demon, asked, "Can I look pretty like you too? I want to wear such beautiful clothes!"

Daki crouched down to the child eye level, her long, silky hair cascading around her. "Of course, you can, little one. Beauty is not just in the clothes we wear but in the kindness of our hearts.''

As Daki spoke, she noticed the simple charm bracelet on the child's wrist. She reached into the folds of her kimono and took a delicate flower hairpin. "Here, take this. It will make you look even more beautiful."

The child's eyes widened as she accepted the gift, a radiant smile spreading across her face. Daki, for a moment, found herself enchanted by the purity of the child's joy.

"Thank you, miss!" The child exclaimed, twirling around with newfound delight.

Daki watched as she skipped away, her heart touched by the innocence of a child who saw beyond the dangers of the world. As the festival continued, Daki couldn't help but feel a warmth in her heart, a reminder that beauty, in its truest form, transcends appearances and lies within the bonds that connect people.

A/N=Added Gyokko and Daki

[dewdropdinosaur]

Fixer Upper

ALASTOR x (F)READER

Summary: Someone dared to break Alastor's precious radio and his wrath is inconsolable. But turns out you may have some small tricks up your sleeve.

Warnings: NONE

For the dearest @anon-of-the-void. My darling, it is a pleasure as always to write these for you.

In the bustling chaos of the Hazbin Hotel, where demons sought redemption amidst the fiery chaos of Hell, an unlikely friendship blossomed. Alastor, the infamous Radio Demon, found solace in the presence of Y/N, an inventive soul from the Victorian Era who had found herself amidst the peculiar denizens of the underworld.

Y/N was a tinkerer, always tinkering away in her workshop, concocting gadgets and gizmos that would make even the most adept engineers marvel. Alastor, with his vintage charm and macabre wit, found her creations fascinating, and the two formed an unusual bond over their shared love for innovation.

One fateful day, disaster struck when Alastor's beloved old-time radio, his prized possession from his living days, broke down. The demon was devastated, his usual jovial demeanor clouded by a rare display of anger. The residents of the hotel trembled in fear, knowing the havoc that could be unleashed if the Radio Demon's rage remained unchecked.

Alastor's crimson eyes blazed with fury as he prowled the halls of the Hazbin Hotel, his usual jovial smile replaced by a menacing snarl. The residents cowered in fear, whispering among themselves as they caught glimpses of the Radio Demon's wrathful form.

"You there!" Alastor's voice boomed, sending shivers down the spines of those unfortunate enough to cross his path. "Do you have any idea of the inconvenience of my beloved radio breaking? The nerve, the audacity!"

Niffty, the hyperactive cleaner demon, spoke with a frantic passion as she viewed the mangled radio."Alastor! I'll do it! Let me clean it please!"

Alastor's laughter rang out like a chilling melody, sending a chill through the air. "Oh, my dear Nifty, no thank you. This requires some…interrogation but feel free to clean up the aftermath."

Angel Dust, lounging lazily on a nearby couch, scoffed, "Oh, lighten up, Al, it's just a stupid radio. Besides, it's not like anyone listens to your old-timey tunes anyway."

The room fell silent as Alastor's gaze bore into Angel Dust, his smile twisting into a sinister grin. "Is that so, my dear Angel? Perhaps I should demonstrate the consequences of underestimating the power of music."

With a snap of his fingers, Alastor summoned a spectral microphone, its ethereal glow casting eerie shadows across the room. "Now, let's see who's laughing when I unleash the full force of my wrath upon this wretched offender!"

The residents of the Hazbin Hotel trembled as Alastor's menacing laughter echoed through the halls, knowing all too well that when the Radio Demon was in a foul mood, no one was safe from his terrifying fury.

As fear spread throughout the hotel, Y/N knew she had to act swiftly to quell the storm brewing within Alastor's heart. Ignoring the warnings of her peers, she clandestinely snatched the broken radio and retreated to her workshop, determined to restore it to its former glory.Under the cover of night, she stealthily crept into Alastor's room, her pockets filled with tools and determination. With deft hands, she dismantled the broken radio, each cog and wire familiar to her skilled touch.

Hour after hour, Y/N toiled away, her nimble fingers dancing across the delicate machinery. With each adjustment and tweak, the radio gradually came back to life, its familiar crackle filling the air once more. But as the night wore on,  fatigue gnawed at Y/N's bones, her eyelids growing heavy with exhaustion. But she pressed on, fueled by determination and a desire to see her friend smile once more.

Finally, with a soft click, the radio sprang to life, emitting a crackling sound before filling the room with the familiar strains of vintage jazz. Y/N let out a sigh of relief, a triumphant smile gracing her lips as she admired her handiwork.

But as she stood there basking in her success, fatigue finally caught up with her. With a yawn, she sank into a nearby chair, her eyes fluttering closed as sleep claimed her.

Unbeknownst to her, Alastor had been silently watching from the shadows, his expression unreadable as he observed Y/N's tireless efforts to fix his broken radio. When he saw her succumb to exhaustion, a pang of concern tugged at his heart, softening the edges of his usually stoic demeanor.

Quietly, he approached her slumbering form, his footsteps barely audible against the creaking floorboards. Gently, he brushed a stray lock of hair from her face, his touch light as a feather.

"My dear Y/N," he whispered, his voice barely above a murmur. "Such devotion, such selflessness. You truly are a marvel."

A warmth blossomed in Alastor's chest as he watched her sleep, a feeling he couldn't quite put into words. For the first time in centuries, he felt something akin to tenderness stirring within him—a feeling he realized with a start was nothing short of admiration.

With a soft sigh, Alastor leaned in closer, pressing a gentle kiss to Y/N's forehead before picking up her form and striding over to his bed; tucking her in with the utmost care. As he stood there in the dimly lit room, surrounded by the quiet hum of the fixed radio and the soft breathing of his friend, he knew at that moment that he was irrevocably touched by her kindness.

And as the first light of dawn painted the sky, Alastor silently vowed to cherish and protect Y/N, for she had not only fixed his broken radio but had also managed to mend something far more precious—his wounded heart.

The next morning dawned upon the Hazbin Hotel, the air tinged with a sense of relief as the residents basked in the knowledge that Alastor's beloved radio had been fixed. Alastor strode into the lobby with a confident swagger, his usual grin plastered on his face. With a flick of his wrist, he turned on the radio, the familiar crackle of static filling the air before giving way to the melodic strains of love songs from a bygone era.

The residents exchanged puzzled glances, their confusion evident as they listened to the unexpected playlist. Angel Dust raised an eyebrow, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips. "Well, well, looks like someone's feeling a bit sentimental today."

Alastor's grin widened, though there was a hint of something softer lurking beneath the surface. "Ah, my dear Angel, music has a way of stirring the soul, don't you think?"

As the love songs continued to play, the other residents couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth wash over them. Even the gruffest demons found themselves tapping their claws to the beat, caught up in the unexpected romance of it all.

But as Alastor's gaze lingered on Y/N, who stood among the crowd with a shy smile, a wave of realization washed over him. It wasn't just any love songs he was playing—it was a silent declaration of his growing affection for the inventive soul who had captured his heart.

And as the music filled the room with its sweet melody, Alastor couldn't help but feel a surge of hope coursing through him. Perhaps, in the midst of Hell's chaos, there was still room for love to blossom—a love that transcended time and defied all odds.

With a soft chuckle, Alastor stole a glance at Y/N, his heart swelling with newfound courage. For in that moment, amidst the gentle strains of love songs and the soft glow of morning light, he knew that he was falling—falling head over heels for the one who had fixed not only his broken radio but also the shattered pieces of his soul.

[bloomries]

WHEN DID YOU WAKE UP!?

﹙ ✿ ﹚── includes : the seven demon brothers (lucifer, mammon, leviathan, satan, asmodeus, beelzebub, belphegor).

﹙ ✿ ﹚── synopsis : sweet confessions when you were supposed to be asleep.

﹙ ✿ ﹚── warnings : gn! reader, mutual pining/crushing stages.

﹙ ✿ ﹚── blossom notes : another repost! same thing happened i tried to edit it and noticed too late that it messed everything up! :(

LUCIFER

Lucifer sighs. He would usually get very, very upset if someone were to fall asleep a few minutes into one of his lectures and proceed to punish them in a harsher way, but he can hardly stay too mad at you. He walks over to where you head lays on his desk, your eyes shut. You looked peaceful.

Lucifer is aware of how hard you’ve been studying, thus he doesn’t bother to wake you— he’ll just continue his lecture once you awake. For now? For now he’ll admire your serene beauty.

“Mmhm,” He hums aloud, brushing some hair out of your face. Your skin feels electric as his finger gently glides across your cheekbone. Would it be a bad time to wake up from your ‘nap’? You keep your eyes closed as Lucifer continues on. “You make it hard to stay mad, what another glorious feat you’ve managed, my dear.”

My dear? My dear!? Your heartbeat spikes, and you hope Lucifer doesn’t notice. Instead you hear him clear his throat, before you feel a hand on your back.

“I can’t have my favorite exchange student sleeping like this, so allow me to carry you to bed.” Lucifer picks you up, and proceeds to do just as he said. He’s carrying you to his bed. It’s hard not to panic, and so your eyes open alert and awake. He doesn’t notice until he feels your grip tighten on his shoulder, looking down to meet your horrified gaze.

“Uh- Uhm, I can- I can explain-” Lucifer cuts you off as he finished setting you on his bed, his body quickly turning to face away from you. Had you been observant enough, you’d notice the pink tinging his ears and the slight crack in his voice as he spoke.

“How much… How much did you hear exactly?”

“All of it…” You admit in a shamed tone, head hanging. Lucifer, after collecting himself, turns around and looks at your pitiful posture— he hopes you’re not expecting him to pity you. Not after such an embarrassing moment.

“Don’t think just because I’m not upset about you falling asleep doesn’t mean I’m not upset about the other thing.” Lucifer clarifies, “and since you’re awake, I’ll continue with my lecture.” And with that, he does.

MAMMON

“’m hooome~” Mammon exclaimed in a sing-song voice as he threw open the door to your room. “Let me tell ya somethin’, if I wasn’t in dire need for money, I’d quit this damn job-… Hey, you awake?” Mammon had swung his jacket off somewhere in your room as he made his way to your bed, only stopping when you didn’t move or respond.

In truth, you were awake, but you were exhausted. You just wanted to close your eyes and fall into an peaceful slumber, but this loud mouth seemed to interrupt just that. And so, you didn’t open your eyes, even as he poke your cheek, because as much as you adore him, you’d hope he’d get the hint and leave.

But he didn’t. Mammon let out an annoyed huff, continuing to poke at your cheeks for a little longer before laying down beside you, staring up at your ceiling. “If your not awake, who ’m I supposed to talk to?” He whines.

Well, you certainly weren’t going to get any sleep any time soon, so you planned on opening your eyes and chatting with him until he was satisfied, only for him to start speaking some rather interesting words.

“Ugh, only you could look this good sleeping. Gotta admit, ’m impressed… That sounded kinda creepy, sorry…” He lets out another groan, throwing his head back against your pillow. “Damn it, why do I always say such dumb things 'round you, I swear if I didn’t have some massive crush on ya, you’d be fallin’ all over me.” He curses, “I’m like, a total casanova, y'know? And-” As Mammon rolls over to his side to face you in his one-sided argument, he lets out the most unholy, high-pitched scream, falling off his bed upon seeing your open eyes.

“Wha- When did ya-”

“Could you go back to the part where you have a massive crush on me?” You can’t help but tease, leaning over to get closer to him only for him to quickly turn his head to the side, bashful all of a sudden.

“Well… So ya heard all of that, then?” Aw, how cute. Mercy will be given, you suppose.

“Mmhm, and now if you just close your eyes, I’ll confess too.”

LEVIATHAN

What time was it even? Your eyes burn from agreeing to do a late night videogame tournament with Leviathan, staying up much later than you two intended. You tilt your head back against your gaming chair, closing your eyes. You were only going to close them for a few seconds, but you ended up dozing off.

Several minutes passed by before you woke up, although you kept your eyes closed, still a little groggy from your ten minute power nap.

“Did you see that-” The creak of Leviathan’s old gamer chair squeaked as he turned to look at you, only to see you having passed out— he did think it was weird the game had snoring sounds but maybe that was you!

Levi pouts instantly, his hands lowering to his lap as he stares at your sleeping form. Meanwhile you’re debating on scaring him or pretending to sleep to piss him off— neither happen right away though, as Leviathan reaches over and takes your headphone set off.

“You should’ve told me you were tired. Winning isn’t as fun if it’s not with you.” He mumbled, turning back around to power off his games, but you couldn’t hold your urge to tease him any longer and let out an 'awwwww’ which causes him to nearly jump out of his skin!

“When did you-!?” Leviathan cuts himself off, his face igniting in a comically bright red blush. “What did you hear?” He hisses out, already beginning to curl in on himself. “Y- You’re the worst!” He whines into his knees, holding on to them tightly.

“Wait, no,” You panic, leaning forward and unwrapping him from himself. “Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to embarrass you or anything. I thought it was sweet, honest.” He doesn’t meet your eye, staring at his Ruri-Chan pajama pants. The silence grows heavier with each passing second, and you know you need to do something to lighten the mood.

“I, er… Well, I also think winning isn’t as fun, if its not with you.” You offer sheepishly, “Actually, doing anything isn’t as fun if I’m not doing it with you!” Your bold exclamation, one Leviathan basically takes as a straightforward declaration of love, makes him snap his eyes up to meet yours before he feels faint.

“I- I think we should… should head to bed…” He can already feel a nosebleed coming on. “Just please don’t say anymore cringy stuff, okay?” You agree, helping him to his bathtub before leaving for the night. No more late night videogame sessions for a while.

SATAN

Satan doesn’t blame you, this cat café was incredibly calming and he’d be lying if he said he never accidentally took a little snooze on the bean bag chairs whilst a cat purred softly on his chest. He snapped a picture of you asleep with several cats on top of and surrounding you, he would definitely cherish it forever (maybe even secretly make it his lockscreen).

“Aw, you two are so cute! Are you two dating?” A random customer asked, having seen the way Satan was admiring you with such a soft expression. Satan chuckles nervously, glancing over at you. He seems to miss the slight twitch of your hand or eyebrow.

“No, not yet. I’d like to though.” The customer makes a sad sound— you relate, mentally, also rather sad at this fact before focusing on the fact that he admitted he’d like to date you. The customer asks why you two aren’t together yet if it’s so obvious he likes you, and although Satan doesn’t exactly like strangers prying in to his personal life, he can’t help but answer.

“I’m not sure how they feel about me… I’d like to know before I potentially make things awkward.” The strangers curiosity seems to be sated, and with that, leaves him be. He glances at you again, and notices the light sheen of sweat on your brow and the twitching of your lids and lips. You weren’t as subtle as you thought you were.

“Are you awake?” Satan asks, waiting. When you don’t move, well not vigorously, Satan sighs. “I know you’re awake.”

You now peek open an eye, smiling in a guilty manner. “Ha, you caught me…” You clear your throat, “We should probably head back home soon, don’t want it getting to la-”

“Please don’t dance around the subject. I understand if you don’t feel the same way, you don’t need to fear rejecting me. I will try to push aside my feelings and-”

“No!” You cut him off before he can continue, startling several cats. You apologize to them, before returning your attention to a slightly surprised Satan. “I like you, too.”

“Oh.” Satan’s tense features relax into a pleasant smile. “Then shall we discuss this further when we get back home?”

ASMODEUS

“And then I said- Oh! How rude!” Asmodeus tsks, shaking his head as he lays eyes upon your slumbering body. “Or is it perhaps that my voice is just so soothing you couldn’t help but fall asleep? If that’s the case, then I don’t blame you~”

You did happen to fall asleep— what did he expect? He made you carry his shopping bags around all day! You didn’t mean to do it whilst he was in the middle of talking but sleep sort of just took over.

It wasn’t until he gasped upon noticing you asleep did you wake back up, although still hazy with sleep, your heavy eyelids remaining closed.

You weakly call his name, trying to let him know you were awake, but he mistakes it for sleep talk. He coos, and you’re too tired to put up a fight so you just continue to let him think you’re asleep. “Aw, do you love me that much? Saying my name in your sleep! You’re just too cute!”

Asmodeus is then quiet, quiet for much too long. You stir a bit, but remain otherwise in the same position. He sighs, his knuckles brushing against your cheek, his lips ghosting over your forehead. A sweet, chaste, featherlight kiss against your forehead, and he’s pulling back, admiring you.

“Can I be honest with you, for just a moment?” His voice is missing its usual airy, lightheartedness. “I think I’m in love with you. I think I have been for a long time…” He adverts his eyes to his well manicured nails, fighting the urge to pick at them out of anxiety. “I doubt you’d believe me though, everyone would easily mistake it as typical Asmo flirty behavior… But I do mean it. I’m… I’m in love with you.”

Well… You’re wide awake now. Your heart is racing in your chest, a heat rising to your cheeks. Even your hands have begun to grow clammy at his confession.

Asmodeus lets out a light sigh, a hand resting over his chest. “Ah, that felt good to get out.” Asmodeus hums, looking up at his ceiling. “Perhaps next time I’ll try confessing to you when you’re awake.”

Unable to truly let him know you’re awake (and saving him from any possible embarrassment), you decide to wait for the real confession, which happens only a week later. And the real confession? It was even better.

BEELZEBUB

“Hm? Oh, an 'after-meal’ nap.” Beelzebub mumbles to himself as he looks over at your figure splayed on the chair, you two just coming back from a nice meal out. “I get that, I’ll join you.” Once again he’s talking to himself. He finds himself sitting on the couch near you, the fire crackling setting a nice, serene mood and allowing him to feel the haze of sleep blanket over him.

“Mmm, this is nice… We should do this more often…” He shifts, trying to get comfier. “Whenever I’m with you… is nice though… I like being… around you…” His words slur together near the end, a sleepy mess, although you’re not. You bolt upwards as soon as you hear the first snore escape him, looking at him frantically.

What does that mean? He likes being around you? It’s nice being with you? Was that some kind of confession? You’re dying to understand, and curse yourself for not making it known you were awake the entire time earlier. Crawling over to where he lays on the couch, you come face-to-face with him.

“Beel? Psst, Beel…” You poke his cheek repeatedly, his hand lazily swatting at your hand, “Please explain, what did you mean by 'I like being around you.’” Beel stirs only a little, but not much. Still very much asleep. You whine, wondering if you should shake him awake instead, only for his arm to wrap around your back and pull you closer towards him.

“B- Beelzebub!” You squeak out in surprise, especially when he turns around and brings you with him. It was like you were a stuffed animal rather than a whole human! You swallow thickly, trying to fight back the racing of your heart or the urge to caress his face.

“Ah, please wake up Beel…”

Once again, he does not wake up. You sigh, resting your head against his chest and closing your eyes. Well, it was useless to try and wake him, you’ll just ask later when he is awake.

Except, unknown to you, Beelzebub is also very much awake and just too embarrassed to face you— he can’t believe you heard him say all that! He’s never been a guy to overthink things, but right now his mind is racing with a thousand thoughts. Mainly on how to properly confess to you when he 'wakes up.’

BELPHEGOR

Yeah, sadly this is very unlikely to happen because Belphegor doesn’t bother talking to your sleeping body and prefers to just sleep alongside you. However, he most certainly has been in this situation reverse.

You stare down at his sleeping figure, curled up in his blankets, his tail curled around him. He looks impossibly comfortable, and the need to cuddle with him grows with each passing breath. But how much more of this platonic cuddling can you withstand? Your heart is racing, and sleeping is getting harder to do.

“You’re such a pain in the ass.” Is the first thing Belphegor hears from you. Surprisingly awake, not-so-surprisingly not making it known. Belphegor hadn’t even done anything yet, grumbling inside his head about what could’ve caused your sour attitude. Just shut up and go to sleep, will you?

“Just tell me that you like me already!” You groan, pulling at your hair as you fall back against a pillow. Or don’t shut up, actually Belphegor wants to urge you to continue on. “Liking you is a very special kind of torture, you know? You make no signs if you like me one way or another…” You glance over at him, sighing. He’s too dang cute for you to stay mad though, so you shimmy down so you’re laying beside him.

“If only you’d wake up and just say 'I like you too,’ then maybe I could finally get back to sleeping like a normal person and-”

Missing the happy swaying of his tail, Belphegor peaks an eye open and a smug grin appears on his features.

“I like you too.” His voice is hoarse with sleep, and he lazily wraps an arm around you before pulling you closer to him. “I like you too, so will you please be quiet now. I’m trying to sleep.”

“Y- You heard-”

“Yes, yes, I heard everything.” Belphegor so clearly amused by this whole situation that it irks you to some degree. “And I did mean it, I’m not just telling you so you’ll be quiet. Do you understand?” Bashfully, you nod. Yes, you understand. He made it very clear.

“Good. Now let’s nap… and try not to stare too hard at my face next time, 'kay?” Belphie just couldn’t help but tease.

﹙ ✿ ﹚thank you for reading. have a wonderful day, darling!

[cordeliawhohung]

not canon pet!au drabble/one shot.

simon needs to fix johnny's new toy

cw: overall theme of non-con, drugging, medical horror, at home do it yourself iud insertion, dark fic, dead dove do not eat, i'm being so fucking for real when i say simon literally inserts an iud into you himself

You hate to admit it, but Simon’s a good cook. 

Everything he puts on your plate for every meal is fresh and cooked from scratch. Each night when he comes home from work, he’s always got a fresh cut of meat — turkey, chicken, beef — and the vegetables are newly bought, if not recently picked from his garden. The spicy aroma fills the house, calling both you and Johnny to the table before he even speaks, and each bite is as mouth watering as the last. 

It is, perhaps, the only thing he knows how to do with love and care. You catch him cooking every now and then, and stick around to watch for a short moment as he carefully dices potatoes and slices meat. His touch is more tender than the flesh of the animals he butchers for a living, but you are quickly reminded how sharp his claws are the moment you’re seated at the table. 

He won’t stop staring. Dark, endless eyes watch every single movement of yours meticulously, as if he’s waiting to pounce on prey. Instead of glancing at him, you try to distract yourself with Johnny’s chatter. He always seems to have something to say; something to share. It’s odd, for a man who’s trapped inside of the house all day, same as you, he seems to never run out of conversation topics. Yet his words become slurred. Or… no, is it your hearing? You’re underwater with clogged ears and heavy weights keeping your head under, muffling the world around you. Pressure builds on top of your chest, and instead of trying to listen to Johnny, you put all your effort towards breathing. 

When your fork clatters on top of your plate, the clink echoes endlessly. It’s only then that you’re able to look at Simon — to come face to face with the monster who’s lured you once again. 

“Bonnie?” Johnny asks, concern soaking your new name on his tongue. 

Even if you could answer, you know better than to bother with an explanation. This feeling — this terrible, drowning sensation — is something you’re familiar with. You faced this very same demon your last night at work; the night Simon kidnapped you. 

“Johnny,” Simon interrupts. He stands from his seat, food half eaten on the table. “Help me get your bitch to the bedroom.” 

Nothing connects after that. Not the stale scent of blood that fills your nose, nor the floating feeling that lifts you up from the table and drags you elsewhere. You are not in your body. Not when you’re laid down on the bed. Not when your clothes are tugged off, leaving you bare to the brightness of the room. Something sears your eyes. Something bright and yellow, trained on you — blinding you. A specimen, ready to be torn apart. A toy, ready to be fixed. 

You want to sleep. Sleep through the terrible rocking of your body and the twisting sensation that pulses inside of you. Something’s slipping inside of your cunt. It doesn’t hurt, and it doesn’t feel good, but you can’t make sense of it. You try to mumble something out — a plea to stop, that you can’t get pregnant — please, Johnny, you know what Simon said would happen to me if you got me pregnant —  but it hardly forms on your lips before you’re choking on it. 

Pain blossoms in a place you’ve never felt before. It’s deep, and cruel; unrelenting as it throbs and shoots throughout your pelvis. It steals what little breath you’re able to suck into your lungs, and tears prick the corner of your eyes as something pinches and radiates outwards. Whatever this is, it’s taking something from you. It’s taking, and taking, and it won’t stop. 

Your hips buck upwards in retaliation, trying to free yourself from the pain, but it only gets worse. Something tears through you, and you cry out an animalistic wail. Your hands reach for your lower stomach where you paw at your skin as if you can rub away a pain as deep and evil as this. Like you’d claw through your own organs to get it to stop. 

“Fuckin’ hell, Johnny, I told you to keep her still,” Simon barks. 

Someone presses on your hips, forcing your body back on the bed, but that doesn’t stop the way your chest shudders as you hyperventilate. Warm breath fans across your face as heavy lips press gentle kisses over your cheeks. Salty tears stream out of your eyes and down the side of your head, pooling along the shell of your ear and soaking the comforter below you. A firm chest presses against yours, pinning you, forcing you to stay still as the pain continues, this time with fervor. 

“Hey, hey, Bonnie, it’ll be fine. S’all gonna be okay. Just need ya to hold still for Simon. Please, don’t make this difficult. C’mon Bonnie, you don’t have to cry,” Johnny babbles at you. Each sentence is broken with a kiss, like he can smother away your discontent with whatever his interpretation of love is. “It’ll be fine, just- just stop moving. Don’t… don’t make me, Bonnie, I don’t wanna fight you. Stop it, please Bonnie. You’ll be fine. It’ll stop soon, just stop it.” 

But it doesn’t. It continues. Skin ripping. Flesh peeling. Is this how the animals feel at Simon’s work? Torn apart. Ripped to shreds. Are you handled with the same care he uses when slaughtering creatures who don’t know any better? Is it easier for them than it is for you? Is this the same kindness he shows everything else? 

Johnny is a liar. It’s not fine. It hurts. And hurts. And hurts. And then it aches. 

Whatever Simon’s done to you, it’s finished, and it’s left you with a hole burning through your pelvis. You’ve never been so empty, so void of something like you are now. Johnny’s praises taste bitter as he kisses your lips now, warm hands wandering along your stomach. You’re certain he thinks it’s comforting. Loving, even. But it’s the opposite. It’s the painful reminder that while Simon takes, and takes, and takes, Johnny will always fill you whole with something stale and rotten. 

“There,” Simon huffs. Normally, the sound of his boots stomping on the wood floors of the house makes your heart race, but you’re just glad he’s finished torturing you. “One week. You hear me, mutt?” He yanks on Johnny’s collar, forcing his face away from yours. “One week, and you can play with her all ya like.” 

Johnny responds, but you don’t care to make sense of it. All you can do is lay there, flat on your back with your eyes closed, and pray. You’ve never been one for praying. God has never helped you before, and he certainly isn’t going to help you now, but you can at least curse the son of a bitch out while the blood spills out of you and stains the supple flesh of your thighs. 

i wrote this in one go after work forgive any mistakes <3

[rowretro]

꧁𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐭𝐮𝐬꧂

✧warnings: violent descriptions, yandere/toxic themes, mentions of blood, and may be a little long

✧synopsis: Sunghoon was one of the most feared vampire-demon prince, way more violent, crazy and scarier than any of the Parks. However, one day his eyes land on y/n, a sweet, half human and half angel girl, who looked just too good to be true. An angel for him to ruin, the next queen when he takes the throne. His parents were all for his love, unaware that he'd do just anything just to keep her...

✧♧✧♧✧♧✧♧✧♧✧♧✧♧✧♧✧♧✧♧✧♧✧

The next heir to the Park's throne was none other than Park Sunghoon. The well feared vampire demon prince across the world. Those who never saw him, knew him. They knew him for all those treacherous murders he did, and the torturous lengths he took when ever anyone betrayed him. Only one girl would run after him no matter how annoyed he gets, and that's Hwang Mihi.

One day, the male wanted to go hunt down a deer as it had been a while since he last went hunting. However, his eyes landed on something more captivating, the scent of her blood alluring almost any vampire or demon to walk past. The male moved the hanging plants out of his view, only to find her.

Kang Y/n, a half bred angel, her delicate movements were like those of a blossoming lotus bud, a pure, white lotus flower, that's what she reminded him of. Oh that pretty smile, those little moles that were scattered across her face and collarbone. How she reached over the water for the white lotus, completely unaware of the dangers that lurk nearby her.

The male noticed a nearby vampire, that was ready to steal the precious blood of his darling. Seeing this, Sunghoon hopped off his horse, with one swift move, he picked up a whole lotus bunch, the girl's eyes met his, she looked shock, a little scared but she seemed mesmerized.

Stunned to see someone so handsome in real life, up so close to her, his eyes have her captivated, his arm rested softly around her waist. She had been warned to run anytime a vampire or demon neared her. But she had been so caught of guard this time. When she noticed his fang, she immediately pulled away, running away, through the forest, her soft, black, silky hair hitting his face.

He stood there, smiling, the delectable smell of her hair being the only thing he felt hitting his face. He knew she was meant to be his, and he will do anything and everything in his power to get her. His parents too, saw how calm he was through the day, feeling a sense of relief wash over them, knowing the future king does have what it takes to take over their place. His parents however, had no idea about Hwang Mihi's feelings for Sunghoon and her desire to be the queen.

The following days, he had followed her everywhere, now knowing where she lived. She lived alone with her brother, Kang Taehyun. Taehyun was still a baby vampire as he had survived a vampire bite thanks to Sunghoon, therefore, he was already on his good side. Sunghoon went into the forest where he saw her run to pick berries. "Y/n... I know you're here... you do realize that you're mine and you can't run from me right?" Sunghoon shouted, as the girl softly snickerred, hiding behind a tree.

"I may be yours... but this forest is mine." the girl remarked as Sunghoon followed the voice, the girl hiding behind a different tree. "Not just this forest, this kingdom, this palace, this whole world will be yours... you just have to marry me" Sunghoon said as y/n ran again. "Got you." Sunghoon said, smiling as he back hugged her, pulling her to his chest.

He ran the side of his sword gently across her neck, making sure he didn't hurt her. "You tell me my princess... what a vampire should do is suck the blood out of something so vulnerable. But I want to make you my queen." Sunghoon said as he leaned into her ear. As she softly pulled away, her head hung low "Your majesty... we can't be seen like this-" She said as the male snickerred, spinning her to face him, as he wrapped his arm around her waist.

"Come on baby don't say that... look at me... you and I are meant to be, you are my everything you see darling... without you, I can't rule this kingdom." Sunghoon explained as he leaned into her face, she looked up at him, awe struck by his visuals. "Will you love me and stay loyal?..." She asked. It's something she hated, when men cheat, specifically Kings or men who have such power.

"Of course baby you're all I'll ever need. I don't want anyone else... and I don't want you to be with anyone else...." Sunghoon warned as she nodded. The two were on Sunghoon's horse, she sat in front, as he securely held her, a genuine smile on her face, seeing so much from above the horse, but nervous when she noticed the little whispers and stares.

"Mother, father, this is the future queen... my soon to be wife, Kang Y/n" Sunghoon introduced as she bowed. His mother smiled, pushing her gently beside Sunghoon "Son you have our blessings" his father confirmed. Mihi, clearly angered, stepped in the way "no way! she's not even royalty!!! how do you know she isn't a scheming witch?" Mihi asked as they stared at her in disbelief.

"She's Kang Taehyun's sister... she wouldn't hurt a soul" Sunghoon coldly said as the girl frowned at her "But I'm meant to marry you Sunghoon, that's the way it should be!" she yelled as his parents sighed, clearly embarrassed for her, she ran off weeping as y/n turned to Sunghoon feeling a twinge of guilt "I don't like her. she's just sticking around for the title as queen." He simply said as he placed a loving kiss on her forehead.

The two were in the beauty of the nature, alone, he sat on the soft grass, with y/n resting against his chest. His arm snaking around her bare waist as she snuggled into him. The sound of the waterfall being the only thing that could be heard. the girl smiled as she stared up at him. He was so calm and peaceful when around her. The feeling of his soft lips against her neck and her jaw, as they finally landed on her lips. His first kiss. Her first kiss. A sight Mihi despised... So she decided to take matters into her own hands.

Breaking into the Kang household, the girl, softly dragged the dagger across y/n's neck, gripping her jaw with a smirk. "You steal my man... You get the sting. How disgusting, he fell for a half, not one obit demon nor vampire. Nothing but a weakling." She snickerred, stabbing the point of her dagger, a little, causing a droplet of the girl's blood to run. But y/n didn't flinch.

Just the smell of her blood from no matter how long away, Sunghoon knew his darling was in danger. He appeared right behind Mihi. His long fingers wrapping around her neck painfully, choking her until she coughed up blood. The death was painfully slow. That was the last anyone heard of Hwang Mihi. Sunghoon licked the small droplet of blood off of her neck as he kissed her. "your blood, your body, your heart and your everything belongs to me... cant let even a single drop stain my precious white lotus..." He mumbled by her neck.