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#because somewhere in his soul he *is* the angel
passivenovember · 2 days
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thinking real hard about Billy and Steve finding each other years after they've settled into themselves.
Billy's gone to therapy and he lives in a little house on the shoreline. Steve makes it to California. Doesn't have the six nuggets, yet. He's working insane hours at a job that isn't very lucrative, but he never had to sell his soul to his old man--
So. Point is. They're happy. Content, almost.
And then they find each other.
--
Steve's burning a pot of water when the phone rings.
It's like a knife through the air. A thorn in his side, pain and annoyance ramping up to an 11 as he yanks the receiver from the wall. "Yeah, now's not a great time," He says, because the goddamn smoke alarm's gonna start wailing any second now, and Steve's neighbor is real trigger-happy when it comes to alerting the fire department. "Look, I'll call you--"
"--Why answer the phone?"
Steve would know Billy's voice anywhere, the rough and tumble drag of someone who used to live fast and hard but doesn't, anymore. "I," Steve says, "I don't--"
"--It's like. Why answer the phone if it's not a good time to talk?"
"I don't like being impolite."
Billy hums, smoke and lightning on the end of the line. "So, you weren't waiting for me to call?"
"No," Steve says. But he was. Has been since high school and all the weird, boring, disheartening years that followed until Billy appeared at the dive bar on Saturday. Like a vision. An angel.
"Damn. And here I was, taking a full 72 hours to figure out what I should say," Billy tells him.
Steve can hear a smile.
Aches to taste it, but-- "That's kinda lame, Hargrove."
"So what?"
"So. You're kinda lame, I guess."
Billy laughs at him, then, high and bright. It shoots confetti into Steve's kitchen, the curling tendrils nearly catching on fire as Steve comes back to himself. He pulls the pan of water and dumps it into the sink, killing the flame on the stove.
"Yeah, I'm a disaster. Maxine tells me all the time," Billy says, "It's just. How weird, y'know?"
"What? You?"
"No, you," Billy tells him, chuckling again. "Fell outta the sky, or something. Into a shitty dive bar."
"So did you--"
"--Fell outta my dreams."
"So did you," Steve says, and his stomach twists. Tumbles. Washing-machine guts still soiled with the bloody red spots of a decade-long crush.
"Huh. You're kinda forward, Harrington."
Steve shrugs, face burning. "Long as I'm not as lame as you are."
"Dude, I didn't say you weren't lame."
"Sure, you didn't."
Billy's next laugh Steve feels in his gut, heat pooling behind the thatch of curly down at his pelvis. "Still such a bitch, pretty boy."
"I'm just being honest. We aren't getting any younger, I'm not really interested in playing it cool, anymore."
Something rustles as Billy shifts his weight, "You were cool, once?"
"Ha-ha."
"I don't wanna play it cool, either," Billy tells him, as serious as a heart attack, "Look, can I be honest? You mind?"
Steve nods and then remembers Billy can't see him. "Go ahead."
"I can't stop thinking about you."
Steve peers through the kitchen window, trying to imagine Billy somewhere on the edge of town with sunlight in his hair. Smoking in bed, naked gold until the duvet pulls him under hips first.
"Harrington, I need to see you again."
"Need is kind of dramatic."
"Maybe I'm feeling dramatic."
"Thought this was honesty hour, Hargrove?"
"It is. Honestly? I wanna kiss you," Billy tells him. "At midnight. In the pouring rain because I was too chicken-shit to do it after our first date."
Steve focuses on not swallowing his tongue. Damn near fails. "Was that a date?"
"No, it was bigger. It was the stars aligning, the start of--"
"--God, you are feeling dramatic."
"When can I see you?"
"I dunno," Steve says, fiddling with the lip of the sink, "When are we expecting rain?"
"Not sure."
Steve can hear his smile. Aches to sink into the softness. "I need a window to commit."
"Tonight. I'll make it rain."
Steve snorts, light as air. "You're crazy."
"I've had ten years to plan for this, Steve."
"Alright, lemme--" Steve pads over to the refrigerator, peering at his Kittens and Firefighters calendar. May is covered in birthdays, vacations, late nights at work, and roll-over plans from April, all hacked into the cardstock in striking red.
Steve groans and flips to June. "--Can you still make it rain in a month?"
"A month," Billy demands, "Fuck. You're hot shit but I didn't think--"
"--I have a full-time job. And friends who want to hang out when I'm not at work, but since I use all my energy at work I cancel on them, and things get moved around and--"
"--You can't make an exception for the guy who wants to eat you out?"
The pages of the calendar flutter, May settling heavy in the room. Steve swallows and his throat clicks. "Uh. My friends--"
"--Aren't gonna eat you out."
"They would. If I asked them to, at least one of them would."
"I'm not really loving that idea, pretty boy," Billy says, teasing. "What about over a lunch break?"
"You want to eat my ass over a lunch break?" Steve snorts, "I'm not a hooker."
"What's wrong with--"
"--I'm not," Steve says, "And even if I was, I'm not cheap. You couldn't afford the hour, and we'd need more than that, anyway."
"What about a sleep over?"
"A sleepover?" Steve says, turning from the refrigerator. "Like, where I come over to your house and stay until the morning?"
"Or I come over to yours, yeah."
"But--"
"Actually, let's do yours. Maxine's place is getting fumigated, so she and Lucas are staying in the guest house."
"You have a guest house?" Steve doesn't remember mention of that during their first date, but. He was distracted.
Billy laughs, "Bet I could afford your hour, pretty boy."
"I thought," Steve says, twirling the phone cord around his hand, "In high school, I remember you telling Becky Gordes that you don't do sleepovers."
"I'm gay."
"Okay, but what about Eddie Munson? The whole school thought you were fucking him, did he ever sleep--"
"--No, my dad would've killed both of us," Billy tells him, and. Something in his voice makes Steve's blood run cold. Makes him believe it.
So he shifts gears, "But. Don't you have work tomorrow?"
"Who said anything about a sleepover tonight," Billy says. Steve imagines the look on his face. Shit-eating grin bright and sharp and beautiful as always. "Unless you want me to come over tonight?"
"I never said that."
"I can work wherever I want. I don't have to go in at all, if I don't want to."
Steve pads over to his junk drawer, digging around for a red pen. "What does Saturday look like for you?" He bites the cap off, holding it like a straw in the curl of his tongue.
Billy laughs, "I thought you said you weren't free until next month?"
Steve chews on the cap for a moment, pen shaking over the cardstock surface of his calendar. He imagines Billy like he was that night. Different but exactly the same. Charming and soft in a way that only comes from the toil of regeneration. Years and years shedding skin.
He'd been funny and smart. Quick wittted.
Sweet. Like cotton fuckin' candy.
Steve remembers not wanting the date to end, not believing that the universe would give him Billy with no strings attached and laying awake that night, hoping Billy would call, and that they'd get their chance, and now--
"Shit. What the fuck am I doing?" Steve asks, but it comes out garbled and messy and wrong. Comes out sounding like, she whale the food ham ding dong.
Billy laughs at him, again, anyway. "What?"
Steve spits the pen cap onto the counter. "You really want to eat me out tonight?"
"Damn--"
"--Because. I was too fucking stupid to realize what was happening between us in high school. Or. What was happening to me when I saw you in high school, and this is important to me," Steve says in a rush. Fuck being subtle, right? "We're not getting any younger. And I haven't slept with anyone for a long time, much less someone who I've wanted for as long as I can remember, so if you're going to come over here and fuck me--"
"Or talk," Billy says gently. "We could talk more. Get to know each other."
Steve listens to the static on the other end of the line.
"I want to get to know you again, Steve," Billy says.
And Steve cracks. Like a bowl in the microwave, curdling under pressure and heat. "Alright, just. Do you have a pen and paper?"
"For what?"
"My address," Steve says, leaning against the sink, "I want to get to know you, too."
"Tonight," Billy asks, digging around for something.
"Tonight," Steve says. "What the hell."
"Great."
"You've got something to write with?"
"Yeah," Billy says, sounding like he's barely holding it together. "Yeah, just. Whenever you're ready."
--
That night, after, just as Steve falls asleep in Billy's arms--
It rains.
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anime-owo-kage-san · 2 days
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Okay, so I heard/read (can’t remember where) some person say that Husk, back when he was an overlord, was dubbed “The King Of Hearts”, because of all the heart prints in his body, (and bc his powers are connected to card stuff)
So now, I’m stuck imagining him being really popular with hundreds of admirers. He’s stolen more hearts than souls.
Which lead me to this random super crack scenario I came up with, after watching an old 2000s show lmao:
- Cannibal Town had injured people, after the extermination, and wrecked homes.
- Charlie decides to both help and use the situation as a redemption activity; earn enough money to finally support cannibal town’s people. (Ofc, she asked her dad to take care of it, may they fail to get enough money though.)
- Alastor suggests they host a ‘date auction’. Highest bidder willing to donate, gets a date.
Angel: “Gee. I’m flattered and all, Smiles. But, I’m kiiiinda on break today…”
Alastor: “Oh, don’t worry my effeminate fellow! I wasn’t suggesting to use you! Aside from the fact that another overlord owns you, and I don’t wish to deal with their jealous tantrums— I know someone who was quite the charmer, and still is if he puts himself back together! Right Husker?”
- Then Alastor goes on and on about how Husk was constantly targeted by admirers, without even trying. And how, regardless of being stripped of his status, he knows sinners and hell borns would die (a second time) to have one day with the King of Hearts all to themselves.
Alastor: “Trust me, Husker. There were once rumors that the King of Hearts ‘captured’ my heart, so I gambled for your soul because I wanted you all to myself. As repulsive and incorrect as those baseless claims were, it proves that their are still sinners out there, desperate for you, and weren’t happy the day you were taken down.”
- Sooo… They did the auction. Husk reassured Charlie that he was fine with it. (Besides, Alastor let him wear a suit similar to his old one.) Not many sinners showed up, because not everyone could afford to buy out the King of Hearts for the day.
- The bidding starts somewhere around 1,000, slowly getting higher, raising a sign with their number label on it as they scream out one high price above the other, until…
???: “60 grand.”
- Everyone turns to see a really hot, busty, woman in the middle of the crowd, holding up her number.
- Angel’s eyes are wide in disbelief. He’d recognize those jugs anywhere!
Angel: *hissing under his breath* “Tit-fucker..!”
Vaggie: “Wait. What?”
- Like hell Angel was going to let “Tiffany Tit-fucker” buy Husk out for a whole fucking day!
- So he shoves one of the bidders away, stealing their number sign.
Angel: “Um… 60, 001?”
Tiffany: “70 grand.”
Angel: “70, 001?”
Tiffany: “80 grand.”
Angel: “80, 00—Fuck it…” *tosses sign to the ground* “No amount of dick sucking is gonna get me that much cash…”
- So, Tiffany buys out Husk, The King of Hearts, for the whole day, and a jealous Angel (and Niffty, just because I want her there) spies on them during the whole date.
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ingravinoveritas · 2 months
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Just thinking about these three things together for no particular reason at all...
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naiadic · 3 months
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I have so many emotions about the finale but I also have thoughts
~~~~~~~SPOILERS~~~~~~~
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First off, AAAA HES SO BABYGIRL, but more importantly he implies he was with Eve, too
Now admittedly, what he "had to offer" could have just been free will and the fruit of knowledge, but given the sexual vibe here I really want to believe this man got busy with Eve as well
But that also raises the question..
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...we know Lilith is Charlie's mother, but was Lilith really the one that raised her? In almost every mention of Lilith we see her horns, but not in those family photos (or her finale scene, come to think of it...)
Plus I mean we have this whole hair thing going on, Lilith is usually shown to have swooped back hair, like a lil pompadour deal, while Eve has straight unstyled hair. Idk about you but it sure looks like Lilith loved and cared about charlie, but somewhere in there Eve came in and started being Bad Mom
i think there's a lot to be uncovered there. Somehow, somewhere the girls must be pulling a twin-switcharoo on us, I Just KNOW IT
Then we have Adam
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I feel like its almost guaranteed that fucker is gonna pop up in hell, hiding for awhile or otherwise, just like Sir Pentious popped up in heaven after dying. They're both human souls! He's committed pretty much every sin during his time in heaven (pride, lust, and wrath being the most prevalent) and if sinners can rise by doing well, angels can fall by doing bad
Then..well...Alastor.
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Honestly homeboy is still quite a mystery. It's clear to me he's made a soul contract that binds his powers, somehow making him weaker than he could be. Whether this was with Lilith or someone else is up for debate, but most fans think it was Lil herself.
One piece of possible evidence for this is in E1 when Zestial mentions rumors of Alastor "falling to holy arms". He says this BEFORE any mention of Charlie, too.
Personally, I think Alastor might not even be a human soul, or that he's somehow made a deal with himself for better control of his soul, and maybe he fucked it up somehow or had another deal impact it, just because of what he said during the finale about sinner's recognizing their full potential. I look forward to seeing his story play out!
(Also I wonder if he has some sort of power bank deal cuz that cut healed suspiciously quick once he got to all that green light...maybe he's got an item that lets him access bits of his greater power? And repair that staff of his?)
So yeah that concludes my rant, Im so fucking excited for S2
EDIT: Someone pointed out that Sir Pentious wasnt killed by an angelic weapon, but by a power blast if sorts (plus we dont SEE him physically die). That makes me wonder if he might've simply ascended at the last moment rather than specifically dying and then respawning...if that's the case maybe Adam won't return..
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chaoticace2005 · 2 months
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List of why the Radio Demon disappeared for 7 years:
1. His fight with Vox ended really badly and he needed to recover.
2. He went somewhere to acquire more power.
3. He had a mission to do because of his deal.
4. Vox confessed his love for Alastor. Alastor had no idea how to respond to this so he ghosted Vox for seven years. But Vox had access to cameras everywhere so the best way to ghost Vox is to ghost the city.
5. Met a wise old man who taught him the secrets to life, he had a training montage.
6. Took a gap year(s) to “find himself”
7. Extended tea party at Rosie’s
8. His shadow got pissed at him and decided to swallow him, sending him to a shadow dimension that he drifted in for seven years.
9. His friends from the other side finally caught up to him and he had to repay his debt
10. His tailor went on sabbatical and he couldn’t leave his place without the proper amount of drip so he had to wait for him to return.
11. There was a shortage of red hair dye, he had to wait for them to restock.
12. Someone took a photo of him with his tail out. He went on a mission to hunt them down and DESTROY them.
13. He went to the Hellmart to cause $50,000 in TV damages (Tomota vid reference)
14. He was busy making diss tracks for everyone he knows and lost track of time.
15. Susan beat him in a bake sale and he had to hide out of shame.
16. Honeymoon with his cane.
17. Fell into a coma
18. Found out about the Alastor-Body Pillow Vox had and then had to ensure they were never manufactured again.
19. He accidentally saw part of one of Angel’s pornos and was traumatized. He had to leave Pentagram City because everyone he went he saw his face.
20. Hung out with Lilith who dished tea about Lucifer.
21. Was told he was “outdated” so he took the time to educate himself on modern slang.
22. Tried to find an obedience trainer for cats.
23. He time traveled seven years into the future and just decided to run with it.
24. Alastor was killed. That’s not Alastor. That’s a shadow acting as him.
25. That’s not Alastor, that’s his twin brother.
26. Walked in on a role play session between a Vox and Valentino-Dressed-Up-Like-Alastor and needed to find a way to erase the memory.
27. Bonked his head. Woke up and thought his name was Bob, he lived a nice, happy life until he bonked his head again.
28. Fell through a portal and woke up in a dimension where his name was a bird named Crane who was a janitor in a world of King Fu and pandas.
29. Got access to the season 1 script so he could mentally prepare. He’s been rehearsing his lines and doing his best to make his performance as disturbing as possible.
30. Went to the dentist. When they tried to help him he ate them, so he had to find another dentist, who he also ate. This went on for a while.
31. Was run out of town by his dentist who got annoyed he kept dodging his appointments
32. Got relationship counseling for him and his shadow.
33. Was just out having a good time, partying, and consuming souls.
34. Went on a seven year long bender.
35. Rosie told him he was an “arrow” so he went to archery classes. Turns out she was wrong and archery really isn’t his forte.
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fangsandfeels · 7 months
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The vagueness of Astarion sleeping mechanics drives me mad sometimes
So, the game says that elves don't sleep - to the point where it's ironically stated that the only way for them to experience sleeping is to either drink a potion of Angelic Slumber or "get hit really hard with a chair".
Instead, they enter a semi-aware meditative state (Revery) where they experience memories from their past lives (usually most positive and emotional parts). Or they just sorting through their current memories.
Now, we've seen Astarion meditating if his way of lying on a bedroll is anything to go by. He is also immune to sleeping spells. We could also see him sleeping (in a Durge run). I know that devs technically recycle the same sleeping pose for all romanced companions, but still. Also, Astarion has nightmares, which is not typical for elves.
Of course, when I was going through the lore, I scratched the surface, but from what I understood, Revery is supposed to be a controlled state, and nightmares aren't exactly controlled.
But, I've found a very interesting bit that (so far) is still considered part of the official canon:
Elves can sleep and dream just like any human, but almost all surface elves avoid doing so. Dreams, as humans know them, are strange and confusing to elves. Unlike the actual memories of one’s primal soul, present life, or past lives, dreams are uncontrolled products of the subconscious, and perhaps the subconscious minds of those past lives or primal souls as well. An elf who dreams must always wonder whose mind these thoughts first arose from, and why. Priests of Sehanine Moonbow are an exception: they sleep and dream to receive signs from their god, and elves consult such priests to interpret their own dreams."
From: Mordenkainrn's Tome Of Foes, Chapter 2: Elves
And not only does this little bit explain a lot, but it also provides some food for your fic writing purposes.
Now, I'm entering the headcanon territory, so be warned.
Astarion's access to Revery got horribly fucked up after he had been Turned. Not only does he no longer have access to his previous lives since he is technically dead and plucked from the cycle, but he also can't even have his happy or good memories before he became a spawn. Even if they are still there, somewhere in the memory palace, getting to them requires going through the catalog of traumatic and painful memories he acquired after being enslaved by Cazador. It's like running through a burning house trying to rescue your family photo - and the hall gets longer each time. So, entering a trance means confronting the worst memories of his life over and over because there is nothing else there.
Due to this Astarion may resort to sleeping, which elves don't usually do. Elves don't like dreams because dreams are subconscious, and they can't be controlled, which scares them. For Astarion, however, it means there is a chance of him subconsciously dreaming of something nice or just being blissfully empty. However, it doesn't safeguard him from nightmares which (because they are the product of his unconsciousness) get even more twisted than simple memories.
Additionally, there can be a possibility that after becoming a spawn he got cut off from meditation and trances completely, relying on sleeping only: at least, the cut spawn epilogue by Withers mentions how while Astarion needs to sleep again, he doesn't sleep alone. While we don't know what that means exactly (and whether it will ever be implemented in the game), I assume that the tadpole gave him the ability to meditate back, but it was a small improvement because his memory headspace no longer holds happy memories capable of offering solace or refuge.
So, my personal headcanon is that he switches between meditating and sleeping depending on how aware he needs to be, and whatever option feels less torturous at the moment.
For instance, in his Origin run, when he remembers the moment of Cazador carving scars into him, he is in a trance. Which is why the memory is so horribly vivid, as if he is reliving it anew.
However, when he has a nightmare where Cazador finds him, he is sleeping and experiencing a memory affected by his subconsciousness. Which is why he jolts himself awake and desperate to know the limits of his freedom.
So, yes, the man literally can't catch a break.
On a happier note (and for your hurt/comfort fanfiction purposes), once Astarion starts traveling with Tav and the group, his memory bank gets updated with memories that are actually fun and nice, so he has something to linger upon when he is meditating. Sleeping gradually becomes a bit more pleasant experience because his subconsciousness got more material to work with, so the quality of his non-controlled dreams has to gradually improve.
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midascrow · 2 months
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Lucifer x GN!Reader
A Fan of the Devil?
———————//————
synopsis: Charlie’s father is introduced to the hotels “Gardener”, and comes to find out that they’re a fallen soul from above. He’s also surprised to learn that they’re a fan of his.
warnings: religious pressure(?)
an: Part 1? If this is well received ofc. This is told from Lucifer’s perspective and therefore his view and inner thoughts regarding what’s going on around him. I also threw in the idea that he’s bad with names cuz that feels very accurate to me lol
—————————————————————-
He hadn’t expected his daughter’s friends to be so….eccentric, upon meeting them. Of course he knew Charlie’s heart bled gold for any sinner around, but he thought-, more so he hoped that she would keep somewhat better company.
Especially in the revelation of this “RaDiO DEmOn”.
Baggie- Mag- Vaggie, was alright he supposed. She loves his daughter, perhaps just as much as he does,that much he was sure. And while he was a bit disheartened by having not known of their relationship prior, he was still content and moved by the way the two leaned towards each others embrace as they spoke.
His heart ached. Just a bit.
“Are they up in their room again?”
“I think they’re in the Garden again, hon.”
Garden? The hotel had a garden?
“Oh! Oh maybe we could-“
“I don’t know…you know how they can be about us going in there..”
“Pshhhh! I’m sure it’ll be fine Vaggie! Plus remember how they always talked about meeting him??”
Meeting who? Who’s meeting who??
Was there some kind of owl in here?
“Dad!”
“Ah!”
Charlie blinked down at her father in an awkward beam, watching his red eyes dart around nervously, for a moment or two. “Who?!-“ His throat dried and swelled in embarrassment, cracking his voice as he fixed his pride with a dust off his hat. “Uhm…Yes? Char?” Nailed it. Totally. Very cool and suave of you big boss.
His daughter smiled, a crease in her brow before she clasped his arm and tugged him forward, away from the peering eyes of the others and down a long corridor. “There’s someone- Well-there’s someone who’s been dying to meet you! Yknow ever since they arrived here it’s just be non stop-“
Someone wanted to meet him? Why??
Surely they were a weirdo.
His grimace must’ve given him away, because Vaggie, who he hadnt noticed following them till the moment of, gave a small hum, to cut through her girlfriends words.
“They were a bit of a fanatic on earth apparently.”
He dead panned.
“A cultist.”
“No.”
“A satanist?”
“That’s not even what satanists do!”
“…..”
“….A banker-“
“Just-!….Wait and you’ll see.”
He fell silent at that, a frown pulled onto his pale lips as his feet dragged him towards wherever they were headed.
He was a bit stumped when they came upon two large doors, both decorated in shimmering glass mozaics, depicting two dividing scenes. An Angel; hands carefully cupped around a beautifully red apple, kneeled down towards the other mural, was depicted on the right. And on the Left, in the same position, with the same red apple, a demon.
He shifted uncomfortably.
“Wow Honey! I uh- Didn’t know this door even existed! It’s very cool, yes yes very cool- now let’s head back to the-!” He called nervously, a half witted laugh leaving his sharp tooth smile as Charlie nodded vigorously, shiney eyes aglow as she took hold of the golden handles of the ornate doors, pulling them open with a mighty huff as a golden light spilled from inside.
It was startling to say the least, fact proven by how Lucifer felt his wings practically shoot from his back in defense, feathers cascading down in time with the petals and leaves that followed an imaginary breeze through the threshold.
His ears strained to hear the quiet sound of rushing water and leaves shaking, birds chirping and insects buzzing quietly somewhere in the back.
His skin warmed. Not in the way it naturally did from hells weather, but as if the sun was beaming down on his skin for the first time in eons. Of course, he knew it was fake. But it was so close.
“Oh- shit! Charlie!” A voice barked beyond the golden glow of the garden, a figure stepping out from the shadows of a large bush, covered in leaves and flowers as they stumbled clumsily through, racing towards the door and slamming it shut, completely ignorant to the king beside their hip, who’s gaze pierced them in silent wonder.
He hadn’t felt that in a while.
“What did I tell you about coming in unannounced! You could throw off the entire ecosystem! The slightest temperature shift might make one of the flowers wilt or one of the fruits shrivel! At least warn me before-“
“Ahem.”
The sinner paused, shoulders jumping stiffly as they froze, finger pointed towards Charlie rudely from their rant before their gaze shifted to the side.
He heard the way their breath hitched, and his chest puffed slightly in pride, wings fluttering just slightly.
“Hello there.” He was being cheeky, he knew that, though his smile felt a tad too genuine, caused by the sheer awe that glimmered across the sinners face at the sight of him. “Lucifer Morningstar, I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of meeting yet.”
He couldn’t find it in himself to dislike that look. He was the avatar of pride after all.
And a small part of him took a rather large enjoyment in the stuttering and stumbling of the sinner before him.
“Y-Your highness! Oh my gosh-“ He grinned “I wasn’t expecting your company- I would’ve dressed more- well I-“ Vaggie coughed from the side, redirecting their attention as they picked the stray foliage form their hair and clothes in a frenzy, towards the garden around them.
With a startled gasp they quickly stepped to the side, nearly tumbling in their haste as they held their arm out, presenting the garden to the king. “It’s..it’s an honor to meet you Sir.” Your voice was steadier, but still thick with anxiety that stuck like molasses to your tongue.
He watched your hand tremble, just slightly. Like his.
His wings fluttered again. A warm feeling bursting through his chest and into his eyes, giving them that shine that reflected the faux golden glow of the sun in the large green room. “The pleasures all mine, My dear. Do you mind explaining what it is you have-.…here”
His smile faltered, gaze stuck on the tree that stood tall and proud in the center of the spacious garden. Its leaves and branches stretched far, each adorned by beautiful red..apples, that hung and shimmered in the light. He expected the familiar ache of guilt to swarm his heart, but was surprised when he found himself breathless instead.
“I hope it’s..somewhat accurate. I’ve only seen recreations of course, never the real thing..” Your voice was a bit muffled in his mind.
He felt you step cautiously beside him, as he continued to gaze reverently at the scene before him. Shadows and memories danced past his eyes and through the patches of sun that decorated the floor. He swore he could hear quiet calls and whispers mix with the rustling leaves.
“You made this?” It wasn’t really a question.
Plants weren’t common in hell. Especially none such as this. They simply couldn’t grow in the rotted soil that spread across his kingdom. And there was simply no pure water to be found that could sustain them. So how-
“I might’ve take a few things before I fell.” You laughed shyly, cheeks warmed under the sun and the intense gaze of the King that snapped towards you.
Lucifer finally got a proper look at you. At your eyes and your features. Your afflictions. There was no denying you were a human soul. It was clear as day and still beat deep in your being. But..
“You were in heaven?” He gasped, eyes wide, mouth agape as he turned fully towards you, the grip on his cane tight as he scanned over the few demonic markings that lined your body, and the big golden X that flashed across your entire being. For only his eyes to see.
A virtuous soul cast out? Was that even possible? To turn away a true, virtuous soul, one of the few who had made it into heavens gate from their life on earth-
“It’s safe to say I didn’t truly agree with heavens teachings. It was too…polished.” There was an easy going smile that matched your tone, as you let your eyes wander towards the tree that wisely outshined every other plant in the garden. You continued.
“Heaven wasn’t my first choice. Frankly I didnt believe in it to begin with. But my folks were..somewhat of zealots. They wanted the best for me, I know that. But I missed…” You paused, seemingly thoughtful as Lucifer watched you with rapt attention, you both becoming ignorant to the two lovers that slipped out.
Charlie smiled softly to herself. Her dad needed this.
“I missed the free will that their religion took away from me.” Your gaze was knowing, almost wise like the tree when it peered back into his own, and Lucifer swore he felt something crack. Something lift from his shoulders and pulled his wings away, letting them spread proudly, in a way he hadn’t felt or experienced in years. Possibly ever.
“You know….I always enjoyed the story of you they told on earth.” Lucifer grimaced again, the vision of you dimming for a moment as he glanced away.
“Is that so? I’m sure they’re singing my praises.” It was a dry laugh, his hands gesturing in a faux confidence, but his lips quirked when he heard your muffled one.
“No, many aren’t. Most seem to align themselves with Heavens view…” You hummed thoughtfully and stepped forwards into the soft grass that peaked through the cracks of brimstone. Lucifer followed, instinctively. He felt leashed by your presence, though not necessarily in a bad way.
“Though there are plenty, who think a little more like me. There’s many versions of your story. I always knew that the original couldn’t be the full story. Too..one sided. Time on earth taught me that there was always a second side. Someone’s else thoughts-, perspective. Falling only confirmed that.”
You words tangled with your fingers that fluttered across the branches of a close bush, caressing a small flower that curled into your touch. “The first thing I did was look for the story. Of the garden. I wanted to replicate it, though admittedly there was never much detail to go off!”
You laughed again and the sound was quickly becoming a favorite of his. It was gentle..understanding. It almost hurt.
“And when I read the story..it was different. More romantic for sure.” You flushed softly, cheeks warm again as you recalled the way the story of Lucifer and Lilith warmed your soul. “But..more honest. Heart breaking even. I couldn’t believe how horrible it was must’ve been…and never knowing how amazing your gift was..” you turned to him again, your gaze so earnest and true that it made him step back.
Lucifer couldn’t deny the warmth in his own cheeks. You were pretty..pretty? That felt mundane. You practically glowed in the garden. And while it wasn’t a perfect representation of what Eden had been, it was better.
Eden had always been..one dimensional. It lacked the depth and feeling that Lucifer had hoped to give humanity. It was gorgeous, there was no denying that. But it wasn’t real.
This…This, is what he had hoped for the garden to be. Alive. Truly alive.
And…you brought it life…because of him? It didn’t feel right in a way. Having spent so many years locked away by himself and mourning the sin and ruin he had created from his own selfish wish.
Selfish? Had it been selfish? At the time, when he had done it, it didn’t feel selfish. He wanted humanity to live. To be alive! Truly, and honestly alive.
And you were so Alive. You were dead here in hell and yet you were breathing life into this gorgeous scene because you chose to. You chose to fall too. You chose to be in hell.
Because of him? Because of his…gift?
It was ironic almost. Laughable even.
Your lips pursed, a worried sweat on your brow as you lost that roaring confidence that bled into your words prior. “I’m sorry- I didn’t mean to preach or anything-“ He stopped you.
“So-.…you’re a fan?” His lips screwed into a wobbly smile, embarrassment creeping up his neck at his less then poetic comment, though the laugh you graced him with almost made the shame worth it.
“You could say that. I personally think I hold the title of number one fan, but you know beggars can’t be choosers I suppose.” You gestured animatedly, a small smirk on your lips as you professed your..favor towards the king, and he gleamed.
“Well!” His hands flew to his suit, straightening it out and letting his chest puff out from its slumped frame. “May I know the name of my, alleged, number one fan?” His words were coy, smug as he gestured to you with a flourish that he had shown to the other residents. (Of course till you had so rudely stunned him to silence)
The smile you gifted him was holy.
“(Y/N)…Your highness.” Your bow was playful, a little awkward and strained, but it made him laugh.
“(Y/n), hm? I’ll be sure to remember that.” His throat cleared briefly, “I…hope you wouldn’t mind me stopping by sometime again soon..I’d like to hear a bit more about your garden.” He liked the way you looked at him in this moment. Disbelieving but so hopeful. Like he was something, someone to gaze at in such a way.
“I’d be honored.”
Maybe you had a fan of your own now, as well.
———————☆
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forlix · 3 months
Text
"better, now."
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words・749 / pairing・hyunjin x gn!stylist!reader / includes・fluff, established relationship, alcohol consumption / note・an extremely self-indulgent kinda emo take on hyunjin @ vfw. takes place in the crying lightning universe.
Hyunjin is gone.
He stopped walking and started floating about five drinks ago, bode farewell to coherent sentences and his eyesight not too long after. Simply kept plucking flutes of champagne off trays carried around by kindred waiters and let himself bask in the glorious evening.
When his stylist shows up in front of him, he mistakes them for the moon.
Gentle hands push strands of sweaty hair out of his eyes, then move to cup his cheeks fondly, protectively, as if imprinting final touches into a snow angel. He watches your lips form his name from mere centimeters away, but the sound of it seems to travel underwater.
“Hyunjin,” you repeat, more audibly this time, a lick of crisp night air cutting through the afterparty’s steamy throng.
He proceeds to melt into you in ways he cannot currently control, sliding a hand over the one you have on the side of his face, fingertips dipping in the slots between yours. Bringing you close enough to him that your chest moulds right against his. Grinning at you with a sickening sweetness that he can taste on his own mouth.
“Hi,” he replies.
“You okay? How are you?” You inquire. “Do you need anything?”
“Hi,” he says again, because he can’t really think of anything else, and that seems to be answer enough.
Before he knows it, he’s walking somewhere, guided only by the arm that he has slung over your shoulders and your silhouette, just barely discernible in the dim venue, which he would follow to the ends of the earth.
An indeterminate amount of time later, he’s standing in the doorway of an unoccupied lounge. The tables of polished mahogany and gold foil have become graveyards of empty wine glasses, but the couch in the middle of the room has been left pristine.
Only after he sits down does the lightheadedness hit, and it hits hard, hard enough to shut his eyes and furrow his brow. His brain swings around the inside of his skull like a pendulum.
There is a delicate brush of your finger against his chin, your quiet request for him to lift it up, and then something hard and cold comes to rest on his lower lip. Water surrounds his tonsils and slips down his throat. A few stray rivulets escape down the side of his neck, then disappear into the napkin that you have pressed upon the skin.
By the time he’s downed the whole glass, he can feel his wits beginning to return—with them, the rest of his senses. His eyes crack open again.
“Hot,” he whispers. “It’s hot.”
You move your hands to his shoulders. Moments later, his jacket is a leather mass over the back of the couch, and he feels his dizziness subside, his oxygen return. 
“Better?”
With the music so far away, he hears the concern in your tone with crystalline clarity. He leans over to press his lips to the underside of your jaw, conveying a silent message: better, now.
He didn’t have plans to spend the night backstage, but the premise seems riveting where he comes to lie. His head nestled in the plush of your lap, the rest of him stretched across the sofa, your hand carding through his hair with the soporific lull of a mellow tide.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbles suddenly, and you look down at him, confused.
“For?”
“Getting so drunk.”
If your hand is the tide, your laugh is the sand, warm and ubiquitous and all-consuming. “You had a good time, yeah?”
A good time. What an understatement for the maelstrom of feeling still raging on within him, the happiness and disbelief and pride and gratitude to himself, to you. To us.
“The best,” he answers.
“That’s all that matters, then,” you hum, your thumb dusting over his hairline. “You deserve to celebrate.”
He’s still too drunk to really think, but he doesn’t have to think when it comes to you—just knows in the very wellsprings of his soul all the love you’ve woven into the thing you’re about to say, by the infinitesimal softening of your eyes alone.
“You deserve everything, baby.”
He lifts your wrist to his lips, presses a kiss to your pulse. Above him, your features blur, then come back into focus. His answer is so soft that he almost can’t hear it over the warble of his heartbeat and the descent of his tears.
“I’ve got it right here.”
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© 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐱 (est. 090323) · liked this work? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support ♡
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0bticeo · 2 months
Text
welcome to the show!
summary: vox sends you as a spy to the hazbin hotel. alastor decides to give him a show.
tw: voyeurism, biting, blood play, fingering, valentino mentioned. english isn't my mother tongue.
you're thrown in hell - quite literally. the fall from purgatory and its beasts was long, arduous, and painful.
you've led an ordinary life. woken up. worked. slept. repeatead. same old decaying matter as everything else. you didn't think too much of it, of course not. you were twenty something and rising slowly, steadily in your company as an esteemed lawyer. memento mori didn't ring a bell. maybe it should've.
now you're in hell, and you're burning with sheer, unbridled rage, because how dare they throw you in there? (you're all in hell for a reason. all of you, fangs and bad intentions bare to the world.)
you take up your old job at vox tech. lawyer for a corrupt company. old habits die harder than you do. there, there's the thrill of probing the opposing companies and sinking your fangs into them, corrupt little fox with a too wide smile on your face.
what you gather is this: velvette's sense of fashion involves too much purple, valentino is the embodiment of everything you hate and vox... vox is obsessed with the radio demon. he's disappeared not too long after being asked to join the vees. you'd know, you're the one who wrote the contract he refused to sign. bastard.
could've been fine, really. but they work you to the bone and treat you as little less than a glorified secretary. when valentino throws the cup of coffee you brought him to a board meeting with the other executives of the company, you slam the door on your way out and don't look back.
it goes like this: you've been in hell for a while, and you're done playing the part of the sinner. so you tell charlie morningstar when she greets you at the hazbin hotel.
she accepts you, welcomes you with, out of all things, a song. too much trouble for dear old you.
"nonsense! everyone deserves to be given their rightful importance!"
that one hit close home.
you don't have the time to thank her before she's introducing you to the staff and the rest of the hotel.
vaggie, staring you down with a suspicious eye, fingers itching to reach for her spear. ah. an angel. fascinating.
angel dust. you have to thank him for being here. after you murder him for calling you an enticing little vixen and winking at you.
husker. former overlord. sold his soul to the radio demon in a bad game of poker.
your hair stand at the back of your neck. static crackles in the air. your ear twitches. alastor's entered the game.
"alastor, it's a pleasure to meet you, quite the pleasure my dear!"
he brings your gloved hand to his lips. even through the thin leather, you can feel the warmth of his breath, the press of his teeth like a warning.
his grin deepens when you introduce yourself in turn. a glimmer of recognition flashes in his eye.
shit.
**
you've always liked to cook. there's something about the glimmering edge of a knife cutting thin slices of meat that appeases you. tonight, you crave some rabbit.
somewhere in the kitchen, the clock ticks the minutes away, time bleeding out. doesn't matter when you have eternity to atone for your sins. 
the watch at your wrist flashes. 2:37. of course, insomnia had to follow you down to hell. it served you at voxtech, back when you were pouring over contracts and meaningless paperwork.
you make your way towards the fridge, hoping to god you'll find something to satiate your appetite.
"ah, feeling peckish my dear?"
you startle.
alastor.
you turn, back facing the counter, resisting the urge to bare your fangs. there he is, slithering out of darkness, a spectre in red. you wonder if it's a reminder of the blood he's shed.
"what do you want?" you snarl.
he laughs, static buzzing in your ears. you blink. when your eyes open, he's inches away from your face, craning your neck towards him - he's tall, that fucker.
"why so aggressive, little vixen?"
his fingers dip down your shoulder, down your arm, until they close on your wrist. his teeth press against the bracelet of your watch, scraping the skin beneath, drawing a drop of blood. the screen glows, a faint blue light in the penumbra of the kitchen.
your breath catches in your throat. he's gorgeous, blue light draped over his hair like threads of moonlight.
he hums, the vibration settling low in your gut.
"i just want a little taste..."
you shiver at that. at the way he looks at you like he wants to devour you, consume you whole. at the way his tongue presses on the cut, lapping at the blood. you tense, biting back a soft, needy little sound.
his leg pushes your thighs apart. you don't realise you've been humping against the warmth of him until his hand settles on your hip, claws digging into your skin hard enough to draw blood.
"behave, little spy."
you laugh at that, baring your throat.
"was it really that obvious?"
he hums, clawed finger trailing down the column of your flesh, pressing against the jugular. he can feel your pulse, staccato little thing beating wildly as you look up at him, lips parted with want.
his smile stretches, impossibly wide.
"vox wouldn't have let his precious little lawyer go." his claws tap against your watch. "and i'd be a fool not to get a taste."
he kisses you. he kisses you, teeth nipping at your mouth until you can feel static against your tongue, until you arch your back against him. you whine, claws digging in his shirt, eager for more. of course, he pulls away. bastard.
"patience, my dear. all good things come to those who wait."
you scoff.
"because seven years and s'more weren't enough?"
a pause. his lips trail down your throat.
"i suppose that's fair."
he bites you, teeth sinking at the junction of your throat and shoulder. you keen, a breathless moan of his name as you feel him grind against you. you shouldn't let this happen. shouldn't revel in the warmth of him, body going limp in his grasp. shouldn't drag his hand towards your aching core, let him press his fingers against your slit and chuckle at how wet you are. you can't let him finger you on the kitchen's counter, can't mewl like a wanton whore.
you do.
you do, his name like a prayer on your lips, hips stuttering, desperate for release. you feel him against you, lapping at your flesh like a starved hound. when he lets you go, there's a spider-web thin string of blood connecting him to your shoulder.
the sight of him takes your breath away.
there he is, eyes half lidded, looking at you. there he is, blood, your blood, dripping down his lips, his chin.
he leans closer, watching you, the way your shiver at his every touch, as his free hand digs in the tender skin of your breast and sinks into the flesh.
oh.
something snaps in you - you're on fire, head thrown back in a silent cry of his name.
on your wrist, the watch flashes blue. alastor grasps your wrist in his hand, bringing it up. it's easy for vox to see you. you, disheveled, red fur a mess of sweat and blood, panting, cheek pressed against alastor's chest. you, nightgown hiked up to your hips. you, legs wrapped around alastor's waist, teeth sinking into the meat of his shoulder to muffle your moans as he drills his cock into you.
vox groans at the sight, pants growing too tight.
the radio demon smiles.
"hope you enjoyed the show, old pal!"
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whiskersz · 3 months
Text
Hello all, I wanted to dedicate some time to writing some self indulgent stuff, so here's some Adam dating HCs! Do tell me if you'd like more ^o^ Also I'm trying to play around with the format of my posts.
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
Adam x Reader - Dating Headcanons
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✦ Adam undoubtedly has a soft spot for you; from refraining to call you distasteful nicknames to trusting you to preen his wings, many are the ways in which he demonstrates that you’re special to him, not just another Angel. You’re one of the few souls who willingly shows him kindness after all, so how could he ignore that? Despite acting like a jerk most of the time, he really can’t bring himself to be that way around you.
✦ To get someone like him to fully respect you takes a lot of time and patience; just ignoring his unpleasant comments and jokes alone won’t do, you’ll sometimes have to retort with a joke of your own, or even laugh at them. If you do it’ll boost his confidence stratospherically, it’ll make him full on puff up his chest and give one strong flap of his wings to hear you laugh at something he just said.
✦ Something that I also mentioned in another one of my headcanons posts is that he loves naps; he’s a pretty lazy guy in general, so between meetings and training he’ll surely want to relax, even better if he gets to do that with you. He likes lying on his couch with you wrapped up in his arms and wings - bonus point if you’re peacefully sleeping – with his TV playing in the background. If you’re in bed though, expect him to move around a lot as he does so unconsciously in his sleep, unless he’s holding you...in which case his arms will practically trap you and you won’t be able to leave without waking him up.
✦ Another thing he quite enjoys doing with you is playing videogames, just to chill a bit together, and if drinking was allowed in Heaven I feel like he would be the type to play drinking games. He surprisingly doesn't need much to have fun, even in the house.
✦ Adam loves eating ribs, but he can’t cook for shit. He’ll always order those or takeout on a daily basis, so you decide that it’s a good idea to teach him at least the basics. He’s very clumsy in the kitchen, doesn’t really understand how most things work but hey, at least he can tell when the water’s boiling! So teaching him how to cook his own ribs is a bit of a process, but eventually he learns and takes pride in knowing how to make his favorite dish on his own. Give it some time and he’ll be parading around and telling anyone who asks about how his ribs are way better than the ones you can get at a restaurant.
✦ Speaking of food, he’ll almost always take you somewhere to eat if you’re on a date. Even if you’re just getting fries from some stall on the side of the street, he’ll make sure you’ve gotten a treat at the end of the day.
✦ He’s a big show off too, so he’ll 100% propose you to try playing guitar only to exhibit his own skills. If you compliment him enough and you appear to be genuinely interested in learning though, he will gladly be your teacher. He will show you how to play the songs he likes them most – his own – and reward you with a ‘You rock, babe!’ or something along those lines and a kiss whenever you get something right. He’s really, really proud of you and of being able to teach you something.
✦ Adam loves casually calling you pet names. He won’t use extremely cheesy ones, but things like babe/baby, sexy and hon. He’ll use them in sentences where they don’t even really belong, even, just because he’s willing  to show you this sweet side of him that nobody else gets to witness. The one thing he will never call you is shortened versions of your name; he finds those extremely corny.
✦ He’s also not really afraid of showing his love in public, PDA is very much his thing when you two are together. Hand holding, a wing draped across your back, an arm around your shoulder...careful not to do too much though, he’s not really a fan of kissing in public or anything on the more intimate side like that. If this happens he won’t deny you a kiss or a hug but you’ll have to deal with his attitude for a while.
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shapard · 3 months
Text
Feather of Fate🕊️
Lucifer x Seraphim!fem!reader
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Soulmate arc
A/n: A little bit late for Valentine, but here ya go! Idk when I'll continue this, but this has been stuck in my brain for a long time.
Goldwing
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Chapter 1 > Chapter 2
You’ve heard about the story tales from your Mother Sera. How Lucifer has fallen because of his bizarre dreams.  To give humans a free will, which cost chaos to the world. 
As a punishment he was forced out of heaven with his Love Lilith. Sera claims that she wanted you to be safe, so there is one top rule she set up: Don’t Question heaven. 
You keep on holding tight to this one rule, not like your sister Emily. She gets into a lot of trouble when you’re not watching, which gets you also in trouble. 
Big Sister, Big responsibility, that’s what your mother always says. 
Sitting on the couch looking down at the apple sign on your wrist. It was a small apple with a snake surrounding it. It’s a Soulmate mark.
Every Angel gets a soulmate, so they get the perfect heir, some angels describe It as a heart pull and ache. You don’t really enjoy that you’re forced to love someone. It’s somewhere unfair that humans can marry someone they choose to love and trust. Meanwhile when Angels reject their bond, it will kill the two Soulmates in a span of time. 
Even when they’re too long apart it will show in a disturbing way. Aggression, Not eating, no sleep, the list goes on and on.
Putting your sleeve above your mark, not wanting anyone to see it. You got once because of it in trouble. Not a pleasant memory that you want to re live.
It does remind people of Lucifer, but he got Lilith, his soulmate. So that possibility is shrunk to zero. Why else sacrifice living in heaven for a woman?
Today was the meeting with Charlie the daughter of Lucifer. She wanted to talk about a hotel named Hazbin Hotel. 
…Time Skip…
The court room was all a mess, chaos has broken out whispering and hushes echoed through the pearly white halls. 
Emma broke the Silence with her soft singing voice “But she was right, Sera. She Showed us the soul can Improve. He saw the light, Sera. Checked all the boxes that you said would.” You Interrupted Emily and for the first-time in your live, you disobeyed the one set rule. 
“Prove a person deserve a second chance, now we turn our Backs, no second glance?” Sera looked towards you slightly disappointed but also guilty. 
Then the bomb was thrown in the room, extermination. It left you speechless. Why hide something like this and say it was for protection? 
It all went down so quick and with one move you started to doubt everything in heaven. Sera was scared, scared shitless that she’d loose Emily and you, but mostly you. 
You started to Ignore her and rarely left your room. The betrayal was harsh for you. You trusted your mother dearly and now you find out that your mother kills souls because she feels threatened. Threatened because of Lucifers dreams she said was once foolish. 
You started to break rules after Rules, causing a havoc in heaven when you leaked the Information about an extermination in hell. And in less than a week you were in chains in the courtroom. 
“Do you have any Idea what damage you’ve done Y/n?” Sera’s voice echoed through those now soulless halls. The seats now all almost empty. “What damage I’ve done? You call me the Imposter, but have you ever thought what you’ve done? You lied to your people AND your Family Sera.” 
Ouch, you never called her Sera just Mom. “Just do it already, I’m tired of hanging in here and watching my failure of a mother trying to push this longer.” You spat on the cold floor. The coldness reminds you how the last few days felt in heaven. Cold and lonely. “As you wish, do it.” her voice cracked, it was barely audible, but you could hear it. 
You shut your eyes tight and with a swift Moment you felt how your wings were cut off, your scream filled these cool, lonely court room. Sera was already gone, not wanting to see how she failed in one of her children.
The rest of your wings were ripped out of your back, making gold blood squirting all over the white floor painting it in a unique color. And then you fell, too exhausted to let out a desperate call for the comfort of your own mother.  
She didn’t even stay. 
Tears pooled lightly out of your eye. Even though heaven didn’t feel like home anymore, you’ll still miss heaven. 
The wind gushed on your Injured back making it only hurt more than it already does, you fell so fast, this is something you never really experienced you never fell as an Angel. But you fell, you fell deep and Landed on the ground. 
It the worst you’ve felt in these last hundred years of living. The bone that was connecting your wings with your body broke more into splinters at the impact. It had dirt sticking on your bones making you hiss as you tried to stand up making them move slightly in the dust. No success. 
You tried a couple more times, but you feel your stamina running out fast, so you just gave up. You laid there for a couple of seconds before you eventually pass out. 
Lucifer sat in his magic room, where his magical creations came from. The only thing besides Charlie what kept him happy. He took final glances at his old façade. 
It’s time to move on and move into the Hazbin hotel, even though he hates that radio guy, he does everything for his little Charlie. He walked out of his mansion closing it with a key. Taking a deep breath, he spun around and was ready to go. 
Something crashed loud in front of him, swirling all the dirt into Lucifers face. He coughed and waved the dust away. “What the fuck?” He looked at the cause for this early tumult, only to see a very beautiful woman in front of him. It didn’t take him a while to see that she was pretty bad Injured. His eyes dropped at the golden blood. “Oh no.”
The figure tried to stand up but fall multiple times and passed out after a while. No, no, no, no. Turning her around to see the damage, and it is bad. 
Three main bones ripped and broken apart, making him note down that she wasn’t just any Angel, she is a seraph. “Let me help you.” He carried her body very carefully, so he couldn’t do more damage towards her back. Teleporting himself and his other stuff in the hotel apartment, he laid you on his bed with your belly pressed on the mattress. 
He started to heal your back slowly and washed off the dirt from your face and the injury. He knew he couldn’t fully heal her wings back. But she could survive this with his help. And in an odd reason he couldn’t let her die. Some kind of pull on his heart making him already slightly attach towards the sleeping beauty. 
And this routine was repeated every day and when he realized her back was fully healed, he turned her on her back again. Seeing her now in all her beauty. 
“How can someone be this pretty?” he moved a hair strand out of your face and held your cheek. Stroking it a couple of times, it is as if he’s hypnotized. 
Shaking his head, he let go of her very quickly, “Lucifer you can’t just touch someone, she doesn’t even know you nor who you are.” He bit his long-clawed hand, debating whether he should go or not. 
In the end he left the room with heavy displeasure. Somehow not being near you made him angry. You were hurt and needed every protection he could offer. 
His mind screamed at him to go back to you, but he didn’t. This feeling confused the king of hell but, His mind and body were almost like two separate people.
 He pulled up his sleeve looking down at the red apple mark with a golden blue snake on it, like his halo. It was his Soulmate mark, he loves or loved Lilith dearly, but she wasn’t his mate. 
They both thought it may didn’t showed because Lilith is after all a human. Even when he had a soulmate, after landing in hell, he knew he’d never see his soulmate ever. 
He pulled his white sleeve again over the mark, not wanting to think about the what ifs. Maybe helping his daughter would keep his mind from you. “Let’s help Charlie.” 
After a while Lucifer still caught himself worried about you. 
You were laying on his bed for weeks, he healed you every morning and every evening hoping that you’d finally wake up. 
The arch angel Lucifer, and now king of hell, was worried about a seraph, what sarcasm. 
Getting ready for bed, Lucifer started to dress himself in his night gown and went to the couch. Since you’re sleeping on his bed, Lucifer decided to sleep on the couch. He didn’t want to disturb your healing progress
Hugging yourself into this blanket was heaven, and the smell of sweet apple and an alluring scent of musk. You never want to leave this place, for the first time since months you felt in peace. 
Fluttering your eyes open, you stretched you arms and legs, but one thing was missing. Your wings. And then reality came crushing down on you. You fell, from heaven. Your mother let you fall down the drain. She lied and didn’t even try to explain it to you. 
It was hard to breath as if you’d re-live the horror of falling from heaven down to hell.
You shacked uncontrollable making you Fall out of the bed. Out of habit you tried to fly those few centimeters. 
With a shallow thumb you fell on the floor. 
You winced from the Impact, and you tried to push yourself up with the next high object with shivering hands. 
This was a different gravity situation. 
Without your wings you slumped forwards, nothing to weigh your back. 
You pushed yourself upwards with the help of the shelf above you. The shelf lets out a creak from your weight and you fall back down with the shelf. 
The whole content on the shelf fell and crashed into pieces and you fell right into them. 
The ceramic pieces digged into your freshly healed wounds, you know that when you move, you’ll re-open the back wound. 
Out of panic your body began to move on autopilot.
With low groans and muffled screams, you leaned on the bed, golden blood smearing around the broken shelf and the white mattress. 
You started to sob at the pain. 
It was dark and all you wanted was to bathe yourself in the scent of that blanket. 
You searched for it. 
In the darkness you couldn’t quite figure it out where the blanket was but after a while you found it.
Holding the piece of cloth on your nose just to smell the comforting scent. You yelped when the light flicker on. A figure standing in the light. The figure was about 5’10 tall. 
You hid behind the blanket not wanting to look at the sudden appearance at the front door. 
Lucifer shot up at the sound of breaking ceramic. His mind told him to run towards the sound that came out of your room making him high alert. 
An Intruder? 
But who’d dare to come into the king of hells chamber?
Then he remembered that you were in his room, and without second thought he rushed towards your bedroom turning on the lights.
“You’re awake!”
929 notes · View notes
emmyrosee · 2 months
Note
suna and 11? CONGRATS EMMY!!!!
THANK YOU ANGEL FACE 🥹🩷
anonymous said 11. Suna and maybe u can tie it with ur recent post and possibly make them break up??? ❤️
11 with Suna… Argument 💔
There’s a deep rooted insecurity suna rintaro holds.
It’s not one he talks about often, nor do you bring it up, because it’s dumb, it’s a stupid little thing that you both know doesn’t make a difference in your relationship, yet Rintaro always finds himself harping and beating himself up over it.
Right now is no exception, as you stand across from him with your hands scrubbing your face, clearly exhausted by the fight.
“I don’t think of Osamu like that!”
“You sure had a hell of a time showing it!”
You had a crush on Osamu first.
Way back when rintaro wasn’t even into you, he couldn’t have known you from some random soul, you had feelings for osamu, but you never acted on them because you assumed he never liked you back- not to mention his insane fan girls. You kept your distance until you moved on; only to meet Rintaro in college, recognizing each other about three weeks in, where your feelings for him started to bloom.
You’d let it slip to him once when recounting high school memories how you fell hard for the dark haired twin, and while yes, it made rintaro tense up, you assured him it was over. You were done with him.
Yet every time you hang out with the group, Rintaro feels that same jealousy creep up his spine.
“God, when will it click for you that I love you!” You cry, desperate for him to hear you. “You! Only you! For five years Rintaro, it’s only ever been you!”
“Don’t act like you still don’t-“
“I DONT!” You bark. “I don’t! Whatever you’re about to say, I. Don’t. Because I do, with you!”
He feels sick to his stomach at this point, your sharp words to him only translating as a defense against his words, desperate to keep something hidden.
Not as a genuine frustration.
“I think you should go be with Osamu,” he snarls. “Since your so comfortable getting him drinks and putting your hands on him-“
“I wasn’t making out with the kid, I was patting his back after a joke!”
“-and maybe you should be with him since he’s just soo funny-“
“MAYBE I WILL!” You shriek.
The plates in the kitchen settle and the doors creak softly at the force of your yells, and your eyes glimmer with remorse but your face harbors exhaustion.
“…what?” He croaks.
“Maybe I should go be with literally anyone else,” you choke. “Since you think I’m flirting with anyone and everyone in the goddamned circle-“
“Wait- no, I just-“
“I don’t care what you do,” you whimper. “I’m sick of your jealousy. I’m sick of your hatred of my friendship with some kid who couldn’t give a fuck about me- you literally picked up the pieces of me he shattered, yet you still think there’s a chance I could love him?” You scoff, “you’re ridiculous.”
He sobers up as you throw your arms out in defeat, “I’m so… tired, of the accusations, Rintaro. I’ve given you five years of unconditional love and gratitude. And all you can boil me down to is someone who had a crush in high school?”
“I’m just so worried to lose you,” he says, voice breaking.
“Yeah? Well, you’ve lost me.” You take a step back and gnaw on your lip, “I’m going to go. Think long and thorough about this. But just know, I’ll always love you. Even if you’ve never trusted me.”
“No, no, no, please, don’t leave-“
“I’ll talk to you later…. Okay?”
He’s never going to hear from you again. This, he knows.
The door closes, and he wipes his tearful eyes with the back of his head, slipping out his phone to look at your happy smiling face again, one he took off the face of the earth with his jealousy.
There’s a black screen that faces back to him. It won’t turn on. He groans and hucks the thing across the room, hearing it clang somewhere far enough away.
He’ll deal with it in the morning. For now, he’s got some wallowing to plan out.
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circeyoru · 2 months
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Hello you beautiful and amazeing writer!! I'm here to make a request that is more on the funny side (btw, I love ur stories. Unwanted soul being one of my favorites, lol)
That cursed cat Alastor is EVERYWERE!! And u know what? I give in... Could you write something funny where yan!Alastor is jelous of the cat? Like, he would be like:
"Me or the cat!?" And reader, with no hesetation, "The cat *takes cursed cat Alastor and leaves*". Then someome comes in "Damm, they didn't even think about it" (please tell me someome gets the reference😭)
That cat can have my fricking soul, I love it so much and it makes me laugh so bad udgdihdudhe. ANYWAYS!! Hope u have a good day/night!!! Heudhsudhjdgdhs
Go to MASTERLIST for the works. This ask is for {Unwanted Souls}.
Hi hi! Thanks for your love!! I agree that cursed cat Alastor is everywhere. More request and ask on him in my inbox!!
Okay, here is short part on Cursed Cat Alastor VS Yandere!Alastor. For easy distinction, I'm calling the cat Bambi.
Alastor's eyes twitched as he glared at the lookalike in your arms; that was his place when he came to you after working so hard for the little interest project you sent him to. The creature, Bambi as you named it, narrowed its eyes as it felt Alastor's death glare towards it, its smile widened as it felt the jealous aura radiating off of the demon.
"Darling, can't we have a meal without that inferno creature in your arms?" Alastor tried to ignore the thing and his ever-growing jealousy. Meal time was a time when you weren't absorbed into your artistic worlds, now your attention was on that damn cat! That looked like him! Smiles and all!
"Then where do I put it?" You continued to eat, ignoring how Bambi clawed some of the smaller pieces of meat to eat from your plate.
"Out the window." Alastor passed more meat onto your plate when he saw Bambi taking yours and you didn't react to it. "And on the streets of Hell where it belongs."
You chuckled, eating up the slice that Alastor passed to you first, "That's too mean, Alastor. I won't have the heart to do it because it looks and acts so much like you!"
Alastor's radio glitched and scratched, his eye twitching, "Me or the cat!?"
"The cat." You spoke and picked it up, ignoring Alastor's shock look and left the dining room.
Vaggie shifted to the side, as did Charlie, to let you passby. They looked over to Alastor, who was still sitting there, shocked and frozen. Angel poked his head in, taunting, "Woah, harsh. Your 'darling' didn't even hesitate."
Angel was immediately thrown somewhere by Alastor's tendril, making Vaggie rush to check up on him. Charlie came over and comforted him, "You know, we're having a fun movie night later, maybe you can—"
"Ha ha ha! Never will I watch those noise picture box!" Alastor declined quickly slapping off the hand she was going to put on his shoulder. "If you'll excuse me."
"Where you going?" You questioned as you re-entered the dining room.
Alastor double-checked to see if he was mistaken. His lips moved before his mind fully processed it, "Where's the cat?"
You took your plate and utensils, then went over to Alastor's side, nudging him to sit back down with your elbow before placing it down next to his. He pulled out the chair and pushed it in while you sat, then he too sat down. His eyes staring at the empty spot that would always have that creature and his ears listening to your honey words. "I left Bambi with Husk to take care while we have our meal. What? Now you want Bambi back?"
Alastor's mood brightened, "Of course not, My Love!" He took your hand and kissed it, "Let me cherish you without any distractions."
You giggled, using your free hand to pick up a piece of meat and feed it to Alastor, who ate it happily. "Right..."
"Oh, now it's even more delicious!" Alastor's eyes drooped as he smiled at you, "You should do this more often, Love."
BONUS:
Husk stares at the cat on his bar table; it growled at him with its fur all bristled like a porcupine. Husk inched away slowly to create distance from the creature that you gave him to take care in your absence. Angel came in, laughing out, "Oh! So you were the one! Ha! AHHHHH!!!!!"
Bambi pounced at Angel, biting at him with every opportunity given. Husk yelped and immediately came to help, "Uh, good cursed kitten?"
Angel screamed, "GET THIS THING OFF ME!"
Back in the dining room, you hummed as you cut another piece of meat and feed it to Alastor. He grinned darkly at the screams he heard, "My Dear, you're quite cruel."
You smirked back, "Well, Angel was being a loudmouth."
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ingravinoveritas · 9 months
Text
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Just thinking about Michael liking the same photo of David twice in the last few months...
(Top: June 2023; Bottom: Today.)
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killerkillerkillher · 2 months
Text
Bound to Fall in Love
Angel/Demon! 141 x reader
Tags: kidnapping, sacrifices, religious references, reader is too angry to die, reader commits murder lol, canon typical violence??, reader gets a kissy on the forehead, a tad crack-ish
Inclusivity tags: reader is referred to w he/him and they/them pronouns, no bodily description, no y/n
A/n: call my brain an apple w all the worms it's got. This was just a blurb at first, but I made room in there for me to potentially make it into... something I guess.
minors dni!
"Cole, I can't fucking focus while they're just... staring at us like that."
"Ignore it, Bess. We have to finish these candles."
You wish a bolt of lightening would come down and strike all three of you at once. Or maybe the building spontaneously combusting would be better. Anything, anything, would be better at this moment than watching your boyfriend and best friend work together to light a summoning circle after having tied you up in your sleep.
For a fraction of a second, you wonder if any gods are watching, if any of them would be willing to give you a boon and allow you one last chance to punch both of these betrayers in the face.
"Okay, okay, the book," Bess mutters, going to the pick up her ritual book from the coffee table you bought. Honestly, if they were going to try to sacrifice you somewhere, your living room is one of the most disrespectful places. Probably right under your bed room.
"I'm sorry," Cole has the gaul to look down at you with a face stricken with grief. Like you're dead already. "We didn't know what else to do. We're both in bad places and you've always been so good to us, so we figured-"
"You better hope this fucking kills me." You grunt. Cole's face melts into a glare. "Because if I'm still breathing, it's going to take more than Satan's intervention to save you from me. I swear on my mother." You jerk forward, making him jump back a step.
"Cole...?" Bess looks at you, then up at Cole with unease. Cole doesn't say anything for a second, sorting his feelings out with a leer before turning to her.
"Read the book."
He drags you into the middle of their pentagram while she sings Latin words off the old book pages. The candles flicker and waver before their flames grow twice as tall. Cole rolls you onto your back and pulls a knife from his back pocket.
"I meant it when I said I'm sorry," Cole mutters. You snarl, but don't jump at him like you want to.
"Yeah? Yeah, you're sorry? Kiss my ass!" You shout over Bess's reading. "If I'm still alive after this, I'm killing you and burying you in the fucking septic tank!" You crane your head up so you can see Bess as well. "Time to get some stuff off my chest, yeah? Bess, I fucked your older brother on the day we graduated."
Her eyes go wide, and she almost stops talking, but Cole shoots her a look that forces her to continue.
"And his friend Carl, the one you had a crush on. And Cole? I never. Fucking. Finished. Ever! You are the only person I've dated who couldn't get me off." Cole's hand's twitch around the blade.
"Are you serious?"
"Does now look like a time to- ack!" You don't get to finish because Bess finished the spell and it was time for your blood to fuel it. The blade buries in your gut, turning this way and that way at measured increments. You just lay there and twitch, breathy gasps falling from your gaping mouth, the pain only throwing fuel to the fires of your rage.
"Please, we call you here! Honor us with your presence!" Bess chants. Cole step away from you when the candles roar and your vision is filled with bright red and orange.
The ground beneath you rumbles. Whispers fill your ears, nothing you can ever imagine understanding, but something tells you they're other summoners. Or maybe little souls of those who were just where you are now, with a people sacrificing them.
It's odd, you think as blood soaks your back, your hair. You thought you'd be more scared in what could be your final moments. But there's only anguish where there should be fear. Only unfettered violent tension felt in your muscles, and a tongue hungering for iron and gore. You're jaw is wound tight enough to shatter your teeth.
If you could think straight, if you weren't about to die, you might be a little concerned. Never have you wanted to sink your fingers into someone's soft bits as much as you do now. This is normal, right? A normal amount of rage for the people taking your life.
Something in your gut tells you it's not.
In the fog of your rage, you missed the appearance of a pair of men above you. They hover, leathery plum colored wings sagging. One wears a leather strap harness across his chest, while the other favors an unbuttoned silk shirt. One of them looks at you curious as the fire dies, steam and copper colored smoke bellowing from his mouth. A thick cigar hangs on his lips.
"You came! There's... two of you?" Cole gawks, then falls to his knees beside Bess. You can't help but scoff at their sniveling forms.
"We did. There are." The one without the cigar brushes back his long mohawk to get a better look at the whimpering humans. They're nothing new to them, just another set of weak little things looking to get something without putting in the work for it.
Well, they might have had to put in the work to capture you, based on the way you still squirm and fight the rope keeping your arms together. So much blood has left you. You are going to die. Yet you spend your last moments doing what most humans find to be a waste of precious time. Being angry. It's interesting.
"What do you want?" The bearded one in the silk shirt grunts out around his cigar. Bess lifts her head just a bit to speak.
"We want to make a trade. A soul for a better life for us."
There's a moment of silence. You blink your heavy lids, growing too tired to do much else anymore. Both demons look back at you, then to the kneeling humans.
"They're not dead." They say at the same time.
Bess and Cole stiffen and finally chance a glance at you. You're bleeding, a glassy look to your eye and a smile on your face, but you're not dead.
"See, Bess?" You cough up blood only to swallow it back down, "what did I tell you? The cunt can't make me come and can't... can't even make me go."
The mohawked devil pops a wicked smile, not even hiding it from his would-be contractors.
Cole fumes. "I can finish the job. Fuck, am I going to finish the job." He stands, moving to step into the circle only to yelp, the invisible border around the summoning circle becoming visible if only to shock Cole back.
"Not so fast," the bearded one spawns a scroll in his hand. He's eyes glow a molten orange as he scans it. "Section 1, clause 3, part 19 states: executioner(s) must sacrifice one(1) human soul to contractee(s)... Let's see... Here it is: Sacrificee(s) must be dead upon arrival so that proper collection can be done. If sacrificee(s) is still soul bond upon arrival, then they are made the true contractor and all work will be conducted with them."
"In other words," the mohawked one grinned, "you should have went for the heart." He taps at his chest.
"Or the neck." The other devil offers.
"Or that vein in they're thigh."
"The sephenous, Johnny."
"Yeah, that."
"No, no!" Cole grabs at his hair as Bess looks like she's about to start crying. You want to laugh. They deserve the despair. They deserve the horror in their mistake. They were going to kill you!
"That means," the devils lean back to look at you. "You're our contractor. You get two requests at the price of one, human. I suggest one of those requests includes healing you." He flicks the ashes of his cigar on your leg. You don't even have to think of what you want most right now.
"I want you to untie me." You roll on your side. They wait for the rest. Cole and Bess look like they're going to shit themselves from the pale faced looks of terror they give you. Your eyes narrow. "And a hammer. A old fashioned iron and wood handled hammer."
Another beat of silence before the infernals bend over in laughter. The room shacks, sulfuric smoke pouring from their mouths to funk up the room. Cole tries to cox Bess to her feet while they're distracted. Their feet can't move though. It's like they're glued in placed and no amount of pulling and tugging could get them loose. Shame.
"Yer a funny one, love. I'll love having your soul for a few eternities." The one in leather floats over you, tilting his head this way and that way to get a good look at you. You settle him with a neutral look. "My name is Johnny. You sure that's what you want? I think you've only got a few minutes left in you."
"Then let's hurry this up a little, huh?"
"Ooh, you heard 'em." The cigared one snickers and snaps his claws. Two contracts appear in front of your face, both written in a language you can hardly comprehend. A pen appeared in front of your mouth. "Sign on the dotted line please."
You take the quill in your mouth, dip it in the blood beneath you.
"Rah 'ere?"
"Mhm."
You lean forward to dot the paper with your sloppy signature, but bizarrely enough, it seems like the powers that be have decided that they haven't made enough appearances. The floor trembles, and you worry about your poor infrastructure for a fraction of a second, when a set of gold doors spawn right behind you. You roll back onto your back to intake everything. You swear you're hallucinating when a pair of white winged angels step out, the clouded blue of heaven at their back.
"Hello?" You greet stupidly. You must be losing your mind, right? What the fuck is happening.
"Do not sign a thing." The bronzen angel instructs. "Human, we are here as messengers. God sees great things for you in your ascension. Please do not squander that to these demons." He shoots a sharp look at the demonic pair. The angel's counterpart wears a white cloak, obscuring all but his glowing golden eyes. You half expect him to sing "Be not afraid." despite you actively shitting bricks.
Oddly enough, their appearence seems to have some sort of healing property. Your lethargy starts to clear and the blade in your gut starts to get pushed out. Nothing hurts anymore.
"Oh, so we've got a big soul on our hands here, huh?" Johnny smirks. "Price, what's the plan?"
Price the devil throws his cigar to the ground and crushes it.
"Do what we do best. Bargain."
"Don't play with us, Price." The shrouded angel grunts. He's got a mind piercing voice that's got your head ringing, and you swear it echoes despite the room being well furnished. "We can provide them with just as much, if not more, at no cost of their soul." Those gold orbs land on you. "All we ask for is your faith."
"Jesus fucking Christ!" You tug at your bonds with renewed vigor. The angels wince at the mention of their Lord, but only watch as you force yourself upright. "I could not give a rat's ass who gets what! How about this? First one to get me free and a hammer in hand gets my loyalty."
There's two resounding snaps from either side of you. The ropes disappear, a hammer is in your left and right hand. You don't think deeper on what that implies. You finally stand, dropping the hammer in your nondominant hand, and march over to the two people you thought you could trust. They kneel now, seemingly ready to beg for their souls.
"Come on, don't look scared now." You drop your hands on your hips. "What happened to you finishing the job?"
"I didn't want-"
"Say it with your chest." You poke his breast plate with the iron hammer head.
"I didn't want it to come to this!" Cole yells. The divine audience doesn't say anything about it. They watch you curiously as you bounce the hammer in hand. Your soul is visible to them. What should be a glowing ball of light is a red and white morning star, all sharp edges and pulsing like a heart. Your soul will certainly not end up with the others, that much is true.
"I just... I couldn't keep up with you! Your life style, the way you act, your job. I never left good enough. Bess expressed the same thing and we just... clicked. We would have just left, but we could have never lived without struggling, so we just..." He swallows. You can't look at him anymore, hands clenching at what he says next. "The book called for someone we cared for."
''That supposed to make me feel better?" You tilt your head. Cole winces, eyes falling on your feet. You look to Bess. "Thought you were better than this. You were going to kill me. Because what, I was happy? I loved both of you, you could have just talked to me."
"We're sorry! What more do you want?" Bess sobs. You straighten up, bouncing the hammer on your hip, acting like you next action is something to deliberate. You already know what they deserve, and a flash of sadness bubbles in your chest, but it quickly passes as a hot, searing emotion burns a hole into what little hesitation you had left.
"Reckon I want your souls after all the shit you've caused." You grin before swinging the hammer back and caving in Cole's chest.
"Fuck..." is all you can say after everything is done. Cole and Bess lay in a bloody heep, all recognizable features destroyed and crushed. You pant, hands trembling and nothing but white noise and static crunching around in your head. You just killed your best friend and boyfriend. For some reason, you've never felt so light.
Someone's whistle gets followed by a clap.
"Impressive. Done that before?" Johnny chuckles. He floats closer, hand running down your back as he moves past and pokes around the pulped organs. "Shite, did them right in. Can't tell which is which."
"I've never-" you start to answer, but hands are clapped onto your shoulders, shocking you into silence.
"Well, that was a good place to start, lad. Your swings were a bit sloppy, but we can fix that." Price squeezes at your trapezius, massaging the stiffness out of them. A throat clears, and Price sighs like he forgot there was other company.
"We aren't finished. The human is our ward now, Price." The uncloaked angel snaps his finger, pulling you from Price and making you spawn between the two angels. The bronzen angel smiles down at you with teeth so white you could damn near see your reflection.
"There you are. It's nicer to have you close. My friend here is Simon and I'm-"
"Come on, Kyle, you know he's ours!" Johnny spits, his wings flaring out. "We gave him the hammer first, so piss off."
"Uh...huh." Kyle's smile falls. "I think you're a bit mistaken. Look, after executing the human's request, I have his name here." A stone slab appears in front of your face. It's smells like sunshine and warm grass. What the fuck. "His pledge to the Lord has been set and his soul already has a place next to Their throne."
"Right, right, like we don't have documentation neither." Johnny huffs. The stone disappears as a scroll appears next to the devil. The smell of sulfur and smoke wafts over to you. "His name is right there, pretty boy. Getting yer fuckin' lookers on."
Kyle ignores the rude tone and does pull out a pair of reading glasses to go over the scroll. You stand there in the silence, a little too scared to speak up. What could you do anyway? In a blind anger, you didn't really have the mind to think any of this out. Angels and devils are fighting over you because you'd stupid ass was too blood hungry to think past murder. All that can be done is for them to figure this out amongst themselves, and for you to wait for the sentencing. Heaven, or Hell?
"...Simon." Kyle slowly pulls his glasses off. "This is legit. His soul is promised to all of us."
You glance up at Simon, the scary motherfucker. He blinks. Once. Twice. Then pinches the bridge of his nose with a hagard sigh.
"Shit."
That's not good.
Johnny laughs, Price grinning like a dog with a bone. Kyle marches over to you, patting your shoulders with an awkward smile. His demeanor reminds you of the way your mom acted when she said she was going to divorce your dad. And all you can think is "Not this again." Are you going to be spending your afterlife going between heaven and hell forever? Does God get weekends because Their day is Sunday or whatever?
"We need to go and talk this over with some superiors. We'll clean this up," Kyle snaps and the gore is gone, so is the ritual circle and candles. "And we'll get back to you in the morning." He places a feather light kiss on your forehead, and suddenly you're squeaky clean and in the softest set of pajamas you've ever worn. "Stay safe while we're gone and don't allow these two to influence you. Get some rest."
"Blah, blah, blah," Johnny mocks from the sidelines. Price tilts his head, and there's nothing but amusement behind those eyes. Yeah, this is exactly like your parents divorce.
"O-okay? I mean, I'll try." You shrug.
Simon nods. "That's all you can do." He steps back into the golden doorway and Kyle falls in stride. You make some distance, and with a final wave from a white toothed angel, the doors shut with a slam that shakes the house's foundation.
"Just you and us now, stud."
You turn with a comedic slowness to the devils. Price chuffs and floats forward. His assess you, takes you in in all your fluffy white pajama glory, and it seems he finds what he wants when he nods.
"Guess we've got to talk with top brass to see what's going on ourselves. Pity we couldn't stick around longer." The devil's eyes never meet yours, staying glued to various parts of your face. They hop from ears, to your eyebrows, down to your lips. Christ on a bike, is it getting hot in here? His blue, glowing cerulean eyes appear to flash with something.
"Shite, yer right." Johnny groans. "I hate going down there."
"Suck it up, love. You know how I feel about sharing." Price drops his interest in you like an old toy and takes Johnny close by his waist. You watch with a lead poisoned stare as their noses touch intimately, words you can't hear being exchanged. It's kinda of awkward to just stand there and watch but your brain isn't really functioning well enough to tell you to stop.
"Hey, stud." You blink, refocusing on the pair. Johnny seems to have climbed his partner, his legs on his waist and arms around his neck. Price makes busy opening a portal to hell in your livingroom with one hand, supporting Johnny under his ass with the other. "Sit pretty, yeah? 'll be back before those two arseholes, promise."
"Right... yeah." You nod. "Uh, be safe?"
"Be safe, he says." Price mutters. "Cute." Johnny waves until Price steps through the infernal hole and falls from view. The portal closes right behind him so you'd have no hopes of seeing anything but the red hue of smog and dust.
And here you are. A little dazed, a little sad, probably holding back a break down from the last hour of events. But you're alive and you're healed. There's no blood to clean, you're in comfortable pajamas. Could probably sleep right now if your brain would stop for a minute, but it doesn't look like that's in the plans.
So you look for something to do. Cole and Bess and moved around all your furniture to make the summoning circle. Guess you can start there, right?
412 notes · View notes
geekforhorror · 10 months
Note
ani eating u out till u cry
burning desire
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pairing: rots!anakin x fem!reader
warning(s): SMUT (DNI IF YOU’RE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH IT!), dom!anakin, sub!reader, oral sex (fem!receiving), praise, pet names, slight degradation?, mention of crying (dacryphilia ig?), fluff at the end.
word count: 609
a/n: i’m crying bc of how bad this turned out
You swore you were in heaven right now.
“Don’t stop, Ani… Feels so good,” you whine as his tongue swipes your wet folds, causing you to feel immense pleasure.
“Wasn’t planning on it sweetheart,” he mumbles due to being caught in between your soft thighs and your cunt. He had been pleasuring you for what seemed to be hours when in reality, it was only one hour. He had made you cum over and over again like it was nothing. How could his tongue and mouth make you such a mess for him? You didn’t know how, but he made you know it was possible. He was devouring your pussy as if he was a dying man who wanted to enjoy his last meal.
He was sucking harder around your warm pussy and you couldn’t help but moan at the sensation that filled your folds. Anakin’s tongue soon met your sensitive clit which made you pathetically clench around it. You could feel every ridge of his tongue and how he curled it inside you until your legs were practically shaking.
“My girl’s so fucking tight… just for me. Isn’t that right, baby?” he questions. You were so woozy from the way he satisfied your sopping cunt to the point where you couldn’t answer him.
“Isn’t that right?” he grits, now circling his skillful tongue deeper inside you until he could taste the wet flesh.
“Yes Ani!” you said, practically shaking around him until it caused you to grind against his face. Anakin let out a breathy grunt at your action because of how much he loved it. Every time you did so, he swore his soul was one step further from exiting his body.
“Now that’s better,” he says to you before diving back into your pussy with a carnal sort of desire. You were practically holding back sobs, but not because you didn’t enjoy it. It was because of the heat filling your entire body, especially your aching pussy. However, you didn’t expect to divert focus from these feelings until he hit that spot somewhere deep inside you. The spot that only he knew about. This caused you to dig your short nails into his defined shoulders, now sobbing at the mind-shattering and overstimulating feeling he had given you.
“Fuck Ani,” you whine.
“You’ve got it, baby. You’ve got it,” he says, trying to talk you through it.
“I- I’m going to cum,” you cry out, feeling the hot coil start to form inside your stomach until it reached your tongue-fucked cunt.
“Cum around me, baby… Gonna taste so delicious,” he coos.
With his permission, you finally came around his tongue for what seemed to be the millionth time tonight, but you didn’t care at all. He relishes the sight of your release splashing all over his mouth. Anakin pulls himself out of your spongey cunt before swallowing every last drop of your arousal.
“Mmm… I was right. You taste so fucking sweet, angel,” he says in a knowing tone with a cheshire grin on his face. He then looks at you to check in on you and can see how tired you were from tonight’s events. He moves closer to you on the bed before finally laying down beside you. His hand cups your soft face and brings it closer to him.
“I hope it wasn’t too much for you, love,” he says, letting you know he saw the pleasure-filled tears fall from your eyes.
“Are you kidding me? I fucking loved that,” you say with a chuckle, revealing the intentions behind the tears that now stained your face.
“Glad I wasn’t the only one,” he says with a shit-eating grin.
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