#wealth and hellness on this bitch of an earth

[treeprince]

i am the picture of good health [eating saltines at 11 pm by the light of the stove after debilitating migraine lasting more than a day]

[lizzaneia-elizalde]

you do historical au right? So how about a Villainess who actually is a regresser but she saw too much hardships in her previous life that this time she's all set on herself (you can add revenge or not if you don't want). A tyrant disguised saw her real self which is extremely kind to general public (she built orphanage, hospital and schools for her people) (she's the heir but got scammed in previous life, so she used all that knowledge to get even more riches with beneficial businesses so she's practically richest aristocrat). She's evil and rude on the looks (because she hates limelight and does all good will anonymously). So yeah. The tyrant is real deal evil and he's obsessed with our Villainess now. Oh dear. What a plight..

Sorry for the request being all over the place, i didn't know how to put it better :(

Yandere! Villain x Regressor! AFAB! Villainess! Reader

Anon, you know how to capture my attention. And the request is comprehensive, don't worry!

Another historical AU for the roster. This time, rather than starting off with the villain, let's start of with the MC/you! (Because most of the time it doesn't really focus on the ML now, does it? Hope you don't mind.)

Yandere! Villain name: Eros

You don't remember how you got here, except for dying by a stupid woman who can't aim for jack shit.

You just got home from a grueling day's work. Always getting ahead of yourself and working yourself to the bone just to please your boss who's a major asshat, and loves when his employees curry favors with him.

It's a dog eats dog world, so you curried favors with him.

You're his favorite employee. Always giving you snacks and an extra day for your vacations. But that meant working harder than what's needed. Overtime, going home late, it drained you. But hey, it's worth it.

Yet, this wouldn't happen, and you would still be living like a young princess if it weren't for the damn mistress your fiance, the crown prince, has.

Elysia, a daughter of the baron, spent the night with the crown prince, Yuno. Earning the affection of the prince since...

Actually, you don't remember how Yuno became infatuated with Elysia.

Is the fuck really that good that Yuno neglected his fiancee?

And you, the daughter of the second Ducal household (who's not related to the royal family, of course) was blinded by rage and betrayal that you made Elysia's life a living hell.

Erm, why not the crown prince's too, then?

Remembering your past life made your head hurt. From the cliche love story down to the way you were treated made you scream to the oblivion.

After all, after Yuno figured out how you treated Elysia, he made your family kick you out. Powerless against the royal family, they had no choice but to exile you.

You got employed by your employer by then, an eccentric man who spoke of other worlds called 'Earth' and is bringing 'modern day capitalism' here. Whatever that means. But hey, he developed these things called 'cellphones' that made him skyrocket with money.

He's a weirdo, but at least he's easy to please.

But the bitch Elysia "accidentally" blasted light magic to your way, killing you instead of an assassin. Great.

But, then, you're only the minor villainess. The main villain was someone named Eros. The other Ducal household and your father's rival.

As young as 16, he already conquered the ducal household he's in and then, 6 years later, he had wealth rivalring that of the royal family's. Heck, maybe even surpassing it.

"Hello? Where's the checks and balances of this world?" That's what you usually ask yourself.

You never saw him outright, since he's always been so busy. But you clearly remembered when you're in and out of a coma back then after you got struck with the magic, a war broke out due to him.

Fortunately, you regressed into a baby still, so you could avoid being engaged to Yuno, and being involved with Elysia.

Growing up again with your mature mind was weird. Unlike last life, you weren't a brat, but a proper, cold, and an unattainable standard of what a noble woman should be. Well, if you exclude the coldness and the bitchy attitude sometimes.

In all honesty, your family loved you dearly. A clear contrast from your last life. You're a role model, perfect in every way. Beautiful, smart, talented, and shows clear interest in politics and business.

The previous life, you were only a mouth to feed with a pretty face and a political pawn to integrate yourself into the royal family.

And as usual, you got engaged to the crown prince, much to your dismay.

Yuno was easy to read. He doesn't like clingy women, and he likes the chase. He's dumb, and only knows how to spend money.

"Ah, he's worthless."

What did you saw in him in the previous life, really?

Since you were unattainable to Yuno, he became attached to you. Wanting to conquer you.

And you always returned his advances with a flick of your fan and covering your face with a glare with your sharp eyes.

You're the thorned Rose of the Kingdom. Beautiful, yet prickly. It brought you to the limelight, but also, not. Due to you being closed off, news of you rarely get out.

So in the free time you had, you always disguised yourself with your dark magic and filled up your own coffers with the help of your knowledge of business last life (from your employer.)

You built hospitals, made schooling accessible... You were basically the saintess rather than Elysia.

Oh, did I mention that Elysia, with light magic, was the saintess, and you with dark magic was the prophesied Villainess? It's complicated.

But right now, with Elysia failing to bed Yuno in his crown prince coronation, due to him being only attached to you, you were free to do what you want while thinking of your next plan.

What you didn't know is that a certain pair of crystal blue eyes followed you.

You walked along the street of the outskirts of the Kingdom, inspecting the newly built school.

You just got out of the ducal household and immediately went here after being confronted by Elysia once more, who "accidentally" stumbled into the chateau and into you and Yuno. Can she get more obvious, really?

You never used your dark magic here in the outskirts since you felt safe in the people's arms. They never judged you, nor used you for your money. They're just glad more and more accessible facilities are being erected by the young lady.

While walking around, you got into the councilor's office who's busy with enrolling the children. He's the chief of the town, and is one of the few people who graduated fully back in the capital.

He graciously accepted the position of being the councilor after you approached him, since you genuinely wanted to help the outskirts.

You saw children happily playing around while the parents lined up, excitedly talking to one another.

When they saw you, they immediately curtsied and said hi.

"My lady! Hello!"

G-greetings my lady..."

"Oh my stars! It's the lady!"

"Look over here, my lady!"

You giggled and decided to mingle with them more, talking about mundane things in life and what other facilities can you put here.

"Okay, so a shopping center, huh? Okay, that's noted. Also, I think a gymnasium would work well also, so that there will be a place where all of you can have meetings, and also have children play."

They all excitedly nodded and bid you goodbye as you went out.

You felt like yourself here in the outskirts.

Maybe you can convince your father to give you this part of the territory, and your brother can manage the main household?

Your thoughts were interrupted by children pulling your skirt to play, cheekily grinning and playfully pushing a ball up to your arms. You grinned and chased them around, roaring loudly like a monster and pretending like you're a dragon.

The giggles and screams of delight of the children filled the lively streets, along the chatter of the townspeople.

"Sir? Are you okay? What are you looking at?"

"..."

Eros' eyes widened, then softened as he saw you, chasing the children around, playing with them and not minding the dirt clinging to your outfit.

He gulped, suddenly feeling his heartrate pick up as he cleared his throat. Red flushed his cheeks, as foreign yet also the familiar feeling of infatuation filled his heart.

The noise that surrounded him faded into the background, and somehow, everything seems so bright and colorful. All he could see is you, and you, and you...

You...

You...

Beautiful, thorned you.

Eros.

The name itself sends shiver down the spine of people.

Of fear? Love? Or arousal?

He's a man of few words, only letting his actions talk to other people.

Such an otherwordly beauty like him garnered unwanted attention since he was a child.

Other than being extremely handsome, he's also very talented with politics and business, also with physical activities like horse riding and hunting.

Due to this, his mother developed a twisted inferiority complex, and also an almost incestious relationship with him.

She always hurled words that hurt his soul and emotions.

Then she'll hug him while saying sorry.

This cycle would continue on and on until he's 16.

It was supposed to be a joyous day, not until his mother forced himself on him.

Disgust, fear, and rage filled his body that time, and all he remembered is awakening his dark magic and consuming his mother.

After that, he was knocked out cold.

When he woke up, he remembered his past life on Earth.

He's a business man of such a high position, CEO.

He clawed out of his way from poverty. Stealing, investing, selling, he did everything just to get out of the clutches of being a plebian.

And, when he struck gold when his stationery business thrived, his genius made it possible for him to talk to investors and convinced them to invest in his work.

God, he's rich.

And once he reached the age of 24, he's a rich man.

Then he died due to being assassinated by his rival.

With now his previous life in his roster, he became a formidable business man. Eccentric even.

By some weird cheat, he developed cellphones.

Something so revolutionary was first met with skepticism, but it boomed in popularity when his friend, the crown prince Yuno, bought and used it.

it was weird, really. Yuno approached him to employ his ex fiancee in his company and take care of her.

Eros, who didn't mind, employed you.

Sweet, lovable you.

It was funny seeing you struggle to curry favor with him. Not used being the one who had to try to get close with him. The way you struggled to hide a frown when he mentioned over time, the way you hide your disdain when he talks about extra work...

God, you're so cute.

He spoiled you in the best he could do. Extra vacation days, snacks, all he could do without being too obvious.

Then you died.

You... Died.

By the hands of his friend, well, ex-friend's mistress.

Elysia.

That damn bitch doesn't know her place.

Then and there, his eccentricity died down, and all he knows is revenge back then.

You were in and out of coma, and seeing you swim between life and death made his heart roar out in pain.

He felt so helpless seeing you pale and vegetative, something that wasn't you.

So, with a soft promise leaving his lips, he waged war in your honor.

He fought blood, sweat, and tears in your name.

All he could think is you.

All he could see is you.

And as he ignored Yuno's plea, he beheaded Elysia.

The damn bitch raised the notion that dark magic users are evil, despite dark magic being only an another element.

She turned the tides on you.

Why should she live?

Yuno also. He betrayed you.

Once the royal family was dead, he brought your comatose body to the throne, and killed himself with you at the throne.

He made you ingest poison, something that doesn't cause pain to your already pained body.

Meanwhile, he killed himself by striking a sword down to his chest, and to his heart. The very same heart that loved you dearly.

Then he woke up,

a child again.

Back in time.

Getting away from the busy bustle of the ball, you got out to the garden and sighed. Letting the cold air bite into your skin.

Dread filled your heart as you realized once more that Elysia was nowhere to be found, and so did Yuno.

Your nerves got to you and you left the scene, overthinking the worse of the worst.

Did Elysia actually bed Yuno successfully?

Albeit just a bit late?

You covered your mouth, shaking dreadfully. The pain of your last life was getting to you once more. Trauma trembling you to the core.

"My Lady? Are you okay?"

A deep voice broke you out of your reverie. Something so silky, smooth, and familiar.

You turned around, your heart pounding as you saw your employer, Eros. He's dressed in noble clothes, gold, black, and blue.

He looks more uptight and strict this time around. What happened? Why does he look like that?

You never connected the dots, since you thought your employer and Eros were two different people.

But this?

Your heart trembled.

"G-greetings, your lordship." You curtsied, fighting back a frown just like how you did with him last life.

"You're still the same as ever."

"What is it?"

"Oh nothing." Eros waved his hand.

This life, Eros was more brutal than the previous life. He exposed his mother, a pedophile who touched him and stole money from the household, letting her get beheaded by a rusty axe in the middle of the colosseum. After that, he joined the interkingdom war, and won it much earlier than before.

He's basically a warlord. A tyrant to his territory who imposed such strict rules that you doubted yourself if this was the same Eros you knew.

You both silently stood in front of each other before he took off his coat and gently draped it on your shoulders.

"It's cold out here, my lady." He whispered. His long eyelashes fluttering as he blinked.

He inhaled your scent, his lips trembling.

He missed you so much.

His precious rose.

He gently brought your hand to his lips, kissing it softly and lingering there, with his eyes screaming obsession.

His grip was strong yet also loving.

It made you blush.

"My Lady, if my friend, Yuno, hurt you, approach me."

Your eyes widened.

"Approach you?"

Eros smiled. His handsome face blinding you momentarily.

"Yes, i'll help you take revenge."

Eros eyes swiftly looked at the balcony up above.

"Like this."

Eros swiftly dipped you and kissed your lips.

God, you tasted so divine upon his lips.

His tongue delved into your mouth, sweeping and tangling with your much more timid ones. He cupped your cheeks, bringing you impossibly closer to him.

His eyes were glaring at Yuno back at the balcony, who was naked on their bottom half with Elysia, shielding you from the scene.

Yuno's eyes widened, and he hastily dressed up, his eyes boring into Eros', and you.

This life, he'll protect you from pain.

He'll protect you from Yuno and Elysia.

He'll burn down the ground for you.

Just say the word.

---------

Hmm, twist upon twists. I love it. HEHEHEHE

[stargazing15]

Oh how I was wrong

Bob x Fem! reader

Summary: Bob is finally noticing the consequences of his actions

Warnings: angst

A/N: this is mostly Bob's POV

Previously: Letting go - Next: Hello again

It's been a month since Bob had broken your heart. It's been three weeks since he had last seen you. And it's been four days since he'd been starting doubting everything he did, mostly her. He's starting to think he made the worst decision made in the last decade.

It all started about ten days ago. She made him tag along with her annoying friends. They were the fakest of the fakest, she was the only 'normal' looking one of them, and that was probably what made him interested in her in the first place. He never really got along with her friends as they liked to brag about things, mostly wealth or sleeping with rich boys, having nasty comments about everything and everyone. In the beginning she wasn't like them when they were together, but she changed, or rather let her real personality come out. It stared by having comments about his commitment to his job, but eventually also talking badly about others, including his friends, and commanding to only do things she wanted but he absolutely hates to do. This all made his mind started to wonder what you were doing, how you were doing, how things would be if he had ignored her. He was able to forget about the thought the next couple of days as he had some intense trainings at base.

But then he came home, he got snapped back to reality, it felt like he woke up from a month long dream. They started to fight, again, about the same things that made him break it off. Why did he forget about that side of her? How could he forget there were more bad days when they were together than good days?

After you had ran ran away from the Hard Deck that night, Phoenix and Fanboy had tried to talk to him to figure out why on earth he would do something that stupid, but Bob ditched them quickly going home with her. The next time they saw him the whole group lectured him on his stupid decision, trying to get him to his senses. But Bob countered Phoenix by reminding her she once told him to do whatever made him happy. He only never expected Phoenix to be this mad as she made him clear to never address her as Nat again. He had officially made it to her bad side.

A week later when you showed up to the Hard Deck, he was shocked. First by you throwing his stuff on the ground in front of him but mostly by how you were looking. He almost didn't recognize you hiding behind those sunglasses, but he did see how pale you were, how miserable you were, how you had lost weight. This was the first time guilt started to sink in. And when you left, your last words started to haunt him because he didn't want you to hate him. But he couldn't turn back time, it was to late for that.

"Nat," Bob received a death glare from Phoenix, "Phoenix, wait, can, can we talk please?" Bob asked her with a quiet voice. "Please?" He sounded so desperate.

"Bob, okay, but keep in mind I'm still mad as hell. You took away my friend, she was not only your friend and I really liked her. She doesn't answer my calls anymore, that's how badly you've hurt her!" Phoenix was almost yelling at Bob.

"I know. I was so stupid." He whispered, on the verge of tears. He was still together with that bitch, as Phoenix called her, officially, but they had a big fight, again. This time she dragged your name through the mud, even Phoenix suddenly became a bad person to her. He really thought they could be happy again. He should have thought before he acted, because he really was happy with you, if he's thinking back, he's realizing he has never ben happier before with anyone else. But he had ruined it.

"I messed up, I don't know what to do." Tears were rolling down his face.

"YOU don't know what to do? What about Y/N huh? Have you ever thought about her while you ran off with miss I-am-better-then-everyone? Have you any idea that you acted just like her ex, I really thought you were better than that Bob. Have you got any idea how badly he hurt her? And you just proved her he was right! So get your shit together."

"I, I, what, she, she never really told me about him. How bad was it? Please, I need to know."

"Maybe you should know and I hope you feel guilty." She scoffed, "that asshole made her feel so extremely worthless, that she had been convinced no one would ever want her. He treated her like an object and you just proved her she wasn't enough once again. Asshole."

"Oh my god, what have I done? No, no, no, she can't think that, I did wrong." Panic started to kick in. He needed to do something, he wasn't this kind of bad person, he needed to make sure you know that he was at fault and that you were not worthless, not one bit. But how could he ever patch up the wounds he caused?

"I need to do something first." And with that Bob stormed off leaving Phoenix gaping at him.

"Uh, okay."

"It's done, over, I'm done with you!" Bob informed his now ex.

"Oh Robert, you can never leave me. You're mine, I'm the only one you can love."

"Nope you're not, here is your stuff, never come near me again. Here, your number, blocked and deleted. I'm done with you trying to walk over me. Goodbye! Go burn in hell!"

It felt good, this was his new start. He only should have done it like this before he met you. His timeline is seriously messed up. But how can he turn back time and do things in the right order? He needs to, he needs you with him. But how? How can he apologize?

Now he has peace in his head with the past, he has time to think. Time to think about you, what you are doing now, have you been eating, have been taking care of yourself? And then the wonderful memories came back. How perfect you were together, how your smile could lit up anything, how your body would perfectly fit into his when cuddling, how beautifully his name came rolling over your lips when you made love. He misses you, badly.

After thinking thousand of scenarios what he can do, he finds himself in front of your door.

He carefully knocked on your door. He was surprised when you opened the the door.

"I don't want to see you. Leave." And you shut the door immediately.

"Y/N, wait don't go, you don't have to open the door, just listen. Please?" Bob's voice sounded weaker than he thought.

"Beautiful angel, I am not going to make excuses for what I have done. Because there are no. I am just so extremely stupid and I still don't know what I was thinking to throw away the best thing that has ever happened to me. I want to, have to apologize for what I have done and caused, you didn't deserve that because you are a wonderful person and I recently found out about your previous relationship and that actually shouldn't matter because what I have done is the worst. But I need you to know that it was not because of you, I was living on this stupid ugly cloud when I saw her and it blinded me for what actually mattered and that is you. And I'm sorry for not fighting. I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry. I wish I could turn back time, I'm so mad at myself. I know it is selfish to say this, but I miss you, a lot. I wish I could make it up to you, I know it is impossible after what I have done to you, I just wish I could. I needed you to know that."

You heard it all and just like Bob, tears were streaming down your face.

"I wished I could turn back time too." You whispered to the door, inaudible for Bob.

Taglist: @mrsjaderogers @bradleybeachbabe @iamdannyday @mavrellover91 @luckyladycreator2 @rhirhikingston

Tagform

[ourlordapollo]

Graphic design is my passion

I blacked out and made a Krisnix fanmix because I'm a man of wealth and taste

Tracklist & thoughts:

Es lassen Nachtigallen, / Spielt draußen Frühlingsluft, / Der Sehnsucht Lied erschallen /Aus ihres Kerkers Gruft.

Preliminary Notes: the playlist starts with opera and transitions into contemporary rock with "Requiem (The Fifth)" bridging the two sections. While the themes of the songs do not represent any particular order of events, the slide from opera to rock depicts the transition of power from Kristoph to Phoenix

Tracklist:

Liederkreis, Op. 39: IX. Wehmut ("Sadness")

(Nightingales, when spring breezes / Play outside, sing / Their song of longing / From their dungeon cell.)

I had to specifically look up "German operas" to find this after painstakingly sifting through like 2% of The Ring Cycle and a bunch of Italian operas. Nightmare nightmare nightmare nightmare. That being said this one does reference a jail cell so yay me.

Liederkreis, Op. 39: X. Zwielicht ("Twilight")

Hast du einen Freund hienieden, / Trau ihm nicht zu dieser Stunde, / Freundlich wohl mit Aug’ und Munde, / Sinnt er Krieg im tück’schen Frieden.

(If here on earth you have a friend, / Do not trust him at this hour, / Though his eyes and lips be smiling, / In treacherous peace he’s scheming war.)

Lucrezia Borgia: Maffio Orsini, signora, son io ("Madame, I am Orsini")

Io nipote d'Appiano tradito, / da voi spento in infame convito.

(Know Appiano's young nephew! you drew him / to the infamous banquet that slew him)

Full disclosure this is the first song in the libretto I found that mentioned the word "poison" and I was so fucking sick of operas at that point that I went for it without remorse.

Lascia Ch'io Pianga ("Leave Me So that I May Cry")

Lascia ch'io pianga mia cruda sorte / E che sospiri la libertà

(Leave me so that I may cry at my cruel fate / and so that I may sigh at (my lost) liberty)

This was on a playlist called "Angry Opera" and that was false advertising to say the least

Carmen WD 31 / Act I: "L'amour est un oiseau rebelle" (Havanaise)

Si tu ne m'aimes pas, / Si tu ne m'aimes pas, je t'aime ! (Prends garde à toi !) / Mais si je t'aime, si je t'aime, / Prends garde à toi ! (à toi !)

Aria: Der Hölle Rache Kocht in Meinem Herzen ("Hell's Vengeance Boils in my Heart")

(If you don't love me, If you don't love me, then I love you! (Be on your guard!) But if I love you, if I love you, Be on your guard! (Your guard!))

Ngl I just really like this song

Der Hölle Rache kocht in meinem Herzen, / Tod und Verzweiflung flammet um mich her!

(Hell's vengeance boils in my heart, / Death and despair blaze about me!)

Mephistopheles' Return - Trans-Siberian Orchestra

(I)

Don't need this path before me

Don't need forgotten glory

Don't need these threats of violence

Don't need eternal silence

Don't need these midnight visions

Don't need to make decisions

Don't need to be uncertain

Don't need this final curtain

(II)

Somewhere out there

He still gazes

As I wander through his mazes

Death and life here

Truth or lies

Every thought is well disguised

Okay so this song is undeniably about the fear of mortality, as is the whole source musical, however, if you look at it through my Patented Viewing Device *I shove a pane of frosted glass in front of you* you will see that it is ALSO about⁸ the paranoia of knowing that your enemy is watching you, ever-present, scheming.

The Bitch is Back - Elton John

Requiem (The Fifth) - Trans-Siberian Orchestra

DUN DUN DUN DUUUUNNN

Carry on Wayward Son - Kansas

I entertain by picking brains / Sell my soul by dropping names / I don't like those! My God, what's that! / Oh, it's full of nasty habits when the bitch gets back.

Kristoph thinks he's the Bitch. Phoenix simply is the Bitch.

Rock You Like a Hurricane - Scorpions

Masquerading as a man with a reason / My charade is the event of the season / And if I claim to be a wise man, well / It surely means that I don't know

I am not a Supernatural fan I have no baggage IRT to this song and the idea of a wanderer seeking resolution felt very fitting to me. Also, themes of insanity and (metaphorical) blindness.

The night is calling, I have to go / The wolf is hungry, he runs the show / He's licking his lips, he's ready to win / On the hunt tonight for love at first sting

Wolf in Sheep's Clothing - Set It Off

Eat Your Heart - Steam Powered Giraffe

Tell me how you're sleeping easy / How you're only thinking of yourself / Show me how you justify / Telling all your lies like second nature / Listen, mark my words, one day (one day) / You will pay, you will pay

This is one of two fandomcore/playlist fodder songs I allowed myself because. Like. Come on. Come on now.

Hey Look Ma, I Made It - Panic! at the Disco

Stay with me, you're my four leaf-clover-girl / And you can lock me up in time / And when you wear a grin I'm bored / And then I see you cry

Okay so this one isn't a perfect fit but I do think it's one of the best songs ever written and more people need to be aware of it. Also it is very much about growing attached to the person you're in a toxic relationship with

Some are loyal soldiers, while these other thorns are rosy / And if you never know who you can trust / Then trust me, you'll be lonely, oh

Kangaroo Court - Capital Cities

If I'm Crazy - Amigo the Devil

In a dusty room I come to assume / That I've been doomed to lose my mind tonight / Too weak to fight / So I tried to save face then I rest my case / The judge pulls me aside says "c'est la vie / Let your darker side come out to feed"

Love Love Love - The Mountain Goats

So if I cut my lip when I bite the glass / Tell everyone in the room that I'm fine / It hurt for the first few times but at last / I've learned to love a little blood in my wine

This whole song is just *chef's kiss* but I couldn't resist having this be the highlight lyric, considering Phoenix's past with poison in glass bottles

King Saul fell on his sword when it all went wrong / And Joseph's brothers sold him down the river for a song / And Sonny Liston rubbed some tiger balm into his glove / Some things you do for money and some you do for love, love, love

Raskolnikov felt sick, but he couldn't say why / when he saw his face reflected in his victims' twinkling eye / some things you'll do for money and some you'll do for fun / but the things you do for love are gonna come back to you one by one

[aoyama-division]

RED ZONE (Don't Test da Master) (Jet Set Trio Ver.) (Silent Tragedy Diss)

Bring the Beat!

[Tomi:]

I must be going deaf, so I could be wrong

But did I just hear someone call me out on a song?

No, it couldn't be, surely no one's that dumb

Their I.Q. must be lower than my annual income

So let me just think, who could it possibly be

That thinks they're worthy enough to combat with me?

*Gasps* No, wait, no, it surely can't

Be that jade from Shizuoka that's just an ant?

What's her name again? Belly-donna?

No, no, it's Miss Prima Donna!

That sorry little hag that couldn't get rich

On our own! So she had to steal, just like a wench!

High society feels dread? Don't make me laugh

Our status exceeds yours by more than half

Amateur? Better that than a peon

Bah, I'm done with you, filth. Be gone!

[Jet Set Trio:]

Yama's dangerous trio

Our wealth, no it's not for show

Silent Tragedy's just a disaster

Don't, don't, don't test your Masters

Yama's dangerous trio

Our wealth, no it's not for show

Silent Tragedy's just a disaster

Don’t, don’t, don’t test your Masters

[Karada:]

One through five? That's awesome, boo

You can count a whole hand, I'm so proud of you!

Usually, wives only need one man to disappoint

You had to go through five, so we get the point!

Shizuoka, your city, isn't worth much

But it makes sense that you live there, so hush!

Aoyama, this jewel, it's in a league of its own

And we don't like insults, so better watch your tone!

Attacking one means that you attack all

And you'd best believe that I'll give my all

For my friends, I'll walk to the ends of the earth

And this team, its value is so much more than your worth!

You, your renegade, and your scientist

All three of you together equals up to shit!

And wear all the jewels you want, it won't change a thing

Because you're still a bitch, regardless which finger holds the ring

[Jet Set Trio:]

Yama's dangerous trio

Our wealth, no it's not for show

Silent Tragedy's just a disaster

Don't, don't, don't test your Masters

Yama's dangerous trio

Our wealth, no it's not for show

Silent Tragedy's just a disaster

Don’t, don’t, don’t test your Masters

[Luis:]

There's only so much that a man can take

Before he's finally pushed over the edge and then breaks

And Shizuoka, you all have crossed the line

And now it is time for you to pay the fine!

Kito Sakura! Renegade! I really don't care!

Hope you're ready for a one-way ticket to hell!

I'm bout to lead you into the darkest abyss!

Where your worst nightmares will feel like eternal bliss!

I want to forgive what you did, but can't

You tried to take away someone that can't be replaced!

Messing with my Abuela is a definite no!

And now I'll show you a side that I never show!

Bring all the goons you want, it doesn't matter to me!

There are more than enough gravesites in this city!

And when the war is over and it's all said and done

You'll be floating upwards as you head for the sun (Son)

[Jet Set Trio:]

Yama's dangerous trio

Our wealth, no it's not for show

Silent Tragedy's just a disaster

Don't, don't, don't test your Masters

Yama's dangerous trio

Our wealth, no it's not for show

Silent Tragedy's just a disaster

Don’t, don’t, don’t test your Masters

[fighting4ml]

Learning lmfaooo I can’t give my attention to nobody not even friends cause wtf let’s not get besides ourselves. Tryn find balance cause idk guess it was to make me more aware. Cause idk in what twisted mind mfs mistake admiration for I think im better than you. It’s likeee bitch what now it’s like well I probably am. And I see that a lot w Aquarius then we da bad guys when we finally say fuck yo feelings and everything u stand for 😭 so it’s always fuck everybody feeling lawd cause what just being more intentional to is what I gotta work on. As well as building by myself because that’s just what it is for me that’s aqua that’s me and it’s funny cause it’s like idk how I tapped into the bitch ass feminine energy. I’m a boss. I get shit done. I manifest and put in work everytime it’s that mix of bullshit emotion in da rest of my chart be having me fucked up. But it’s like at the same time I need it cause if I ain’t have it be hell on earth for folks. Talk about demon yea ite 🤣🤣 God keep me bro. Keep my head on. You my keeper man. I ain’t sure or dc bout nobody else but I’m sure about you. Ofc keep my family as well, health, mentally , physically, wealth, emotional health as well G. Everybody I hold close. Even the ones that plot against me. It sucks and i don’t get why the ones I fw da most b da main ones against me and da people it be like ite it be like wtf that’s why I gotta treat everybody da same jhi like til I get a reason cause wtf. Ugh and why am I feeling people so deeply wtfffff do u want from meeeeee rl feeling people symptoms and pain bruh it’s crazy.

[gothbusterz]

Obey - Dom!Gi-Hun x Brat!Reader

Sometimes, a spoilt little brat needs a wake up call.

Warnings - Rough sex, light degradation, choking, spitting (I need Jesus HELP ME)

Word count - 2.1k

Requested 💚

His eyes rolled, irritation flooding his veins as he half listened to her ramblings of how someone had mildly inconvenienced her. The way she spat her words as if someone had seriously wronged her rubbed him the wrong way. He didn’t really care anymore; she’d been bitching for so long now. The inconsequential matter she was so pressed about was so pointless in the grand scheme of things.

Maybe it was his own fault. He’d lavished her with the finest. She wanted for nothing but she still found a way to complain. It bothered him. Plain and simple. He’d gone through absolute hell to get the money he used to spoil her, and she’d never had to work a day in her life, and she never would. Her wealthy family had kept her secluded from the real world for her whole life, controlling who she saw and who she spoke to. Her family loved him; wealthy and handsome - perfect for their most precious daughter.

Her father was a banker, and knew Gi-Hun well. He knew he had spectacular wealth, and it was then he decided that Gi-Hun would be the man for his only child. Gi-Hun was hesitant at first, but the woman he met wasn’t who he was expecting. She paid for her own drinks, and demanded that they split the bill at the most high class restaurants. She seemed down to earth and smart. She made him laugh and she laughed at his jokes. He fell in love with her that night, but as time progressed, her true colours began to show. She was still beautiful and smart, but she was nowhere even close to grounded. She was spoilt, and he saw that as soon as something didn’t go her way.

Most of the time, she was the light of his life. She was appreciative of him, at least. She always said her pleases and thank yous, always waited her turn. But to her family and the rest of the world, she was a materialistic brat. She expected the lifestyle she’d been raised with; never appreciating the shining silver spoon that had been in her mouth since birth.

He zoned back in, and she was still going on. A frustrated sigh left his lips before something snapped, grabbing her by the hair and pulling her close to his face. “For once, shut the fuck up.”

His lips aggressively captured hers, finding solace in the small moan she released as he tugged at her hair. He just needed her to stop and he was going to shut her up the best way he knew how. Roughly pulling her to her feet, his large frame towered over hers. Pulling away, his eyes were dark with lust and annoyance. “Bedroom. Strip and sit on the bed. Wait for the me.”

His voice was a low growl, dripping with venom. She knew when he was like this that she had no choice but to obey, or be severely punished. For the first time all day, she was in stunned silence. His eyes narrowed at her delay, and he raised a large hand. It made heavy contact with her cheek, his fingers gently stroking the skin he had just slapped. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

She swallowed thickly and nodded, turning her back and heading towards their shared bedroom. Jesus, if her father saw this he’d drop dead on the spot. The perfect, kind man he’d chosen for his little girl was secretly a dark, demanding lover when irritated; and, oh, was she irritating.

He waited a few seconds before strolling his way into the kitchen and taking a swig straight out of a whiskey bottle. He grunted as the straight liquor spread a cold feeling over his tongue and throat. Taking a deep breath, he very slowly made his way up the stairs. He wanted her waiting. He wanted to give her enough time to follow his instructions, lest he have to punish her even more. He took each step one at a time, leisurely strolling down the hallway before turning into the open door of their bedroom.

She laid there on the bed, naked and waiting. Exactly how he’d wanted her. A dark smirk took over his lips. “Such a good girl… keep that up and I might let you cum this time.”

A small groan left her lips as her mind was cast back to the last time she’d disobeyed his orders; shackled to the bed by her hands and feet, spread open and trapped as he sat in his desk chair, watching her writhe with a smirk as he sipped at his whiskey from a fine crystal class. Each time she’d back settle down, he’d place his drink down on the expensive wooden desk, lick his lips and bring her back to the edge with his skilled tongue before withdrawing and sitting back down right before she could cum. It seemed as though his patience rivalled no one else. He could sit and watch her for hours as she begged and pleaded to be fucked. He ignored her, tutting as he reminded her with a smirk that he was the one in charge, not her.

Pushing her back as she sat up, he crawled over her, his hands running the course of her body and leaving goosebumps in his wake. She shivered under his touch, trying to bring her lips to his only to be met with a strong hand gripping her hair again and pulling her head back. She had no power, as he’d made it abundantly clear. She was to be a toy for him to use.

His thumb parted her lips, dragging her mouth open by her jaw before he spat into her open, awaiting mouth. He firmly pushed her back onto the bed, lifting his old tshirt excruciatingly slowly. Her eyes scanned his skin as more and more became visible. He was a beauty of a man; toned and strong. A work of sheer erotic art. She breathed deep as he pushed the shirt over his strong shoulders down his arms, letting it fall to the carpet.

“Can you manage to be a good girl this time or do I need to tie you up again? Hm?”

She whimpered and nodded, sitting up on her knees obediently; desperately not wanting to be tied up again as she knew he wouldn’t let her cum if he had to do that. He hummed in satisfaction, his fingers gently holding her chin with his left hand while his right made quick work of his loose sweatpants and boxers. Getting rid of them, standing as naked as she was, he brought her forward to sit on her knees. His right hand lazily stroked himself, watching her every move before staring down into her innocent eyes with an insatiable lust.

The left hand gently holding her chin swiftly moved down, gripping her throat firmly. She gasped for air, locking eyes with him as her lips parted. She looked so delicious and fragile; ready to be absolutely shattered. Her hand met his around her throat, squeezing and staring up at him with pleading eyes. His grip tightened with her blessing.

Stepping forward, he pulled her so she was face to face with his hard cock. He tapped at her lips, staring down at her with intensity. Parting her plump lips, he didn’t give her a chance to adjust before he bunched her hair in a ponytail and pulled her forward to take him all the way into her mouth. She choked, hands bracing on his thighs as her nails dug in. He let out a wild groan, her throat constricting around him as she gagged. Beginning to thrust, he fucked her face with a consistent speed, withdrawing only to shove back in with more and more power. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes, threatening to fall as she tried to hold her composure with his cock ramming at her throat. He chucked darkly, slowing down and bringing his finger to tenderly wipe away a tear. “Fuck you’re being such a good girl. Keep going and I’ll reward- mm - I’ll reward you”

His breath caught in his throat as his words rasped through his lips. He wasn’t going to admit that he was getting close to just cumming down her throat after the couple of minutes she’d had him. He’d never admit that everything she did drove him absolutely wild. She was so intoxicating to him, he could cum with just a touch from her. He’d never had that before with a woman, and he wasn’t going to let it go anytime soon.

He pulled back swiftly, and she caught her breath as a trail of saliva fell from the corner of her lips. Her eyes were still wet with tears as she panted, her throat recovering from the intrusion. His thumb wiped the spit from her chin and he pressed a very gently kiss to her swollen lips - a moment of tenderness as an intermission between his harshness. She melted, her arms finding their way around his neck.

As soon as it came, the moment of tenderness was gone as he grabbed the wrists sitting loosely on his shoulders in one large hand, squeezing tightly and pushing her onto her back further up the bed as his body caged hers into the sheets beneath her.

“You really think you deserve to touch me yet?” He tutted before engulfing her lips in a passionate embrace, tongue forcing his way past her lips to dance with hers.

She let out a shameless moan into his mouth, grinding upward to desperately try to find some friction with the knee bent between her thighs. He wanted to keep teasing her. He wanted her to suffer; but seeing her so desperate, writhing for any kind of friction between her thighs, just did something to him. In one swift motion, he let go of her wrists and flipped her over to have her kneeling with her cheek pressed into the sheets and ass in the air; on display for him. His hand roughly met the sensitive skin of her ass in a harsh slap, leaving a bright red imprint of him. His hand pressed into the side of her head that was facing him, covering her ear and pushing her down with force as he roughly pushed himself inside her from behind.

He couldn’t stifle the animistic growl that left his lips as he bottomed out inside her without giving her a chance to adjust. She was so warm and tight that it made his head spin. His hips stuttered as he almost blew it right then and there, but he took a deep breath and bit his lip, fighting it before giving in and thrusting his hips roughly. Skin smacked against skin as he bent over her, her back pressed flush against his chest as he gripped at her hair again to pull her head back. She squealed, her head rolling to the side to meet his eyes under his grip on her hair. His fingers dug into the flesh of her ass as he used it as leverage to thrust harder, faster and deeper, pulling pornographic moans from her lips each time he collided with that one spot deep inside of her.

She felt herself clench around him as she took in the sight before, well, behind her. He was a stunning specimen of a man at any time, but when he was like this it was something else entirely. His hair laid slick against his forehead as his head lulled back in ecstasy, eyes squeezed closed. Small huffs left his lips as he got closer and closer to his release. His eyes opened and he caught her staring back at him, pants and ragged breaths passing through a devilish smirk.

“You’re so tight, baby. F-fuck!” He grunted breathily, the rest of his sentence whispered so low that it couldn’t be heard. She felt his rhythm falter into uneven, rough jerks. His fingertips turned white from how hard he gripped at her skin, leaving red indents in their place. A few more thrusts and his head fell back, a string of grunted curses falling from his perfect lips as she felt warmth spilling out deep inside her. He thrusted slowly a couple more times, falling forward against her back with his head resting in the crook of her neck, placing tiny kisses as he came down from his high. His breath fanned against her sweat-tinted skin, cooling it as he panted out a strained whisper.

“Such a good girl… my good little girl…”

[ask-the-clergy-bc]

What's it like preparing for Halloween with era 3 ghouls and papa? 🎃

SPOOKY MONTH IS COMING!!

I know this wasn't asked for but I made some other cute Halloween posts; if you'd like to check those out, too! I'm going to be using them as my guide for this one so I hope you enjoy them as well!

Papas Celebrating Halloween --> [Link]

Era IV Ghouls Celebrating --> [Link]

I assume you also mean Papa III, so we will go with him!!

Papa III and his Ghouls Preparing for Halloween

Halloween is celebrated by Papa and his ghouls in different ways depending on which part of his era you are looking at. Before and after, he mostly participates in the parties and fun- enjoying the holiday and merriment it provides. During his full reign he had a lot more responsibility for the day. Papa despised having the be the one in charge as it meant getting to do all of the BORING things that come with being a Papa. But he always took his job very seriously, even if it meant being literally late to the Halloween party.

The Church follows it's own version of Samhain, and with it comes with it's practices and needs. Think of it like a mixture of Samhain, a harvest festival, a stereotypical Satanic sacrifice, and Halloween. It's an incredibly important day for the Congregation!

The day is meant to be a festivity on glutting on the bounties of the Ministry's harvest- literally and figuratively. To celebrate the food and wealth their conquests has brought them. It also honors the previous leaders, Papas, and siblings of the churches who visit in the night. It's about to turn to winter and everyone thanks Lucifer for keeping them warm and fed during it.

As Papa, III gets to be the one to lead the prayers and ceremony. It involves a morning sermon, leading the other high ministry in a more private blood sacrifice, and then ends with an annual sermon conducted right before festivities are started for the night. So Papa is a very busy guy! Not to mention he also plans his OWN fun! He's tired by the end of all of it!

As for the ghouls? They have to help their Papa after all! It's their job! This means they have to help him get paperwork sent in, help him wrangle all of the clergy members he needs, and just listen to him bitch about wanting to have fun while getting him coffee. Though the ghouls DO have their own special tasks and then free time after the fact. After all, this is the one night of the year they are allowed to shed glamour and run around in their true forms!

Omega: Being the head aether ghoul means he HAS to take part in all of the important ceremony duties. He's basically the ghoul representative in this ritual, after Special. Omega is the one keeping everything in line and keeping Papa from ripping his hair out with stress. He does his part perfectly every year. Typically, he's partying with Papa once dismissed. Omega is most interested in the food as he has a huge apatite. And getting to stretch his limbs out of glamour.

Alpha: Bonfires are a huge part of the festivities every Halloween. Fire ghouls are the best at keeping hot, ever burning fires but they need a lot of supervision. Alpha is that ghoul. He also has to be the one to keep the working ghouls going and over seeing it. Hates to be in the office with the paper work, so Papa let's him over see the construction of party and ritual spaces. He's also expected to be part of the rituals themselves, like Omega. Once he's free from duty he goes nuts and parties with the rest of the congregation.

Water: Hates having to do prep work, but isn't as vocal about it as Alpha. He will happily get things done so long as it means he doesn't have to hear Papa bitch all day. Luckily, while as Papa's ghoul he DOES have to be in the ceremony, his responsibility isn't as great as it is for the head ghouls. He does his part and plays nice. But once he's allowed off he sheds glamour immediately and jumps into the partying. Water loves to drink himself silly and impress all of the siblings with his true form. Is the one with the biggest hang over.

Earth: The one ghoul of Papa's who is a little too cheerful to be doing all of the preparation work. As an Earth ghoul, the harvest aspect has always been very important in Hell culture. It reminds him of home, and he's happy to make sure everything is in order! Earth is the one that puts all the extra effort for this. Like asking Papa if they can double the budget for pumpkins and apples for the siblings, and helping Papa pick out table runner colors and decorations. Also the one who will eat so much candy and be grateful he can't get sick.

Air: As a former head ghoul, he no longer has as much responsibility. However, he's still asked to help lead the ghouls in the coming ceremonies. No one ever finds him after being dismissed. Air relishes being in his true form and wants every moment he can to himself. That's why every year siblings talk about a rumor of an actual gargoyle that lives in the highest spire of the cathedral. Every year you can hear it and see it flying in the moonlight with it's giant wings!

[spacejellyfish3]

So I watched—and loved—Fear Street on Netflix. It’s fun, it’s scary, it’s very well directed, impressively shot, and delightfully queer. I’m also really excited to see where it goes next, since it is a trilogy of films that are APPARENTLY COMING OUT ONE AFTER THE OTHER IM BEING FED VERY WELL

Um…

Ahem…so anyways…I’m super stoked to foray into the 70s for the obviously Friday The 13th homaging next installment. But I as I’m wont to do, I have thoughts, I have theories, I have several analyses bursting out of my brain for zombies to eat.

And so without further ado; here’s my Fear Street theory (and yes, all of the spoilers apply):

So…yeah.

Sara Fiers is not the villain. She most definitely is not.

That’s pretty unlikely given the intensely unsubtle foreshadowing in the opening credits ALONE.

No…the witch isn’t the villain at all.

Sunnyvale is.

It’s particularly interesting to me how much the high key in your face opening credits establish very clearly the dichotomy between Shadyside and Sunnyvale; one town full of murder, mayhem, and misfortune, the other prosperous, picturesque, and peaceful. It’s the difference between Killer Central USA and The Sunniest Place On Earth. And that, in my opinion, is—forgive the pun—shady as all hells.

In fact, it’s so very much and exceedingly reeking with suspicion…

It’s stated extremely plainly throughout the film how Shadyside has continuously descended into a pit of death and suffering as the years pass by, while Sunnyvale remains rich and pleasant and as safe as can be. That cannot be a coincidence—especially in a horror movie, a genre where almost nothing is ever coincidental.

And if Buffy the Vampire Slayer has taught me anything at all, it’s that supposedly idyllic towns that market themselves as “sunny” are never ever to be trusted at all costs.

Ever. Never ever ever.

The main reason I find Sunnyvale sus is pretty obvious, however: if they weren’t, why even mention the difference in the towns’ wealth and safety? Why bring up that conflict? Why even have two towns in the first place? What would be the point if there’s no relation? Sunnyvale’s entire existence within the story, and their relative prosperity in comparison to Shadyside, seems very much like a clue that they’re involved in some freaky deaky dealings and possible black magic. They wouldn’t bring up these details if they weren’t gonna matter in the long run; you don’t spend that much time and effort just to set up a red herring.

Unless it’s just bad writing, which might be probable but seems unlikely for this specific property at least…

Another big indication comes in the witch’s supposed motivations…which don’t seem to exist beyond “muah ha ha murder” and “generic revenge” if we’re being completely honest here. But that flimsiness made me take a closer look into the visions Sam got after her blood seeped into Sara’s grave and as she got closer to death: a swarm of bees, red tinted almost like blood got splashed onto the camera, a girl screaming into the ether, an image of the Witch’s Mark, and who I presume to be Sara yelling “YOU! IT’S YOU!” over and over again. But when I look at that and put it in context with the motives the 1994 cast comes up with, there’s not much cohesion, is there?

Revenge as a motive wouldn’t explain why Heather was killed in the cold open. It also wouldn’t explain the weekly tragedies that befall Shadyside. If Sara wanted revenge on the town that tortured and killed her, why all the drama? Supposing she can possess the dead, why not just necromance an army of unkillable zombie monstrosities to raze the town in one go and get all over with? Why is this bitch out here doing the most? It doesn’t add up and it doesn’t make sense.

And if you take all that in tandem with the various tragedies of Shadyside—the ways people were murdered, the consistency of the massacres over the years, etc—it starts to paint an intriguing picture:

These deaths aren’t passion filled or emotive or generalized, they’re targeted (at those whose blood has mixed with the witch’s grave) and more importantly: they’re low key ritualistic. It screams of the classic sacrificial deaths and equivalent exchange. Sunnyvale’s peace and prosperity is very likely rooted in a demonic ritual that both feeds on the suffering of Shadyside as well as directly cause it as a sort of feedback, taking the brunt of the bad luck, poverty, and decay meant for Sunnyvale only heightened and magnified to insane degrees. It’s why so many deaths have happened over the years: it’s a clear method of perpetuating that state of perfect, suburban idyllia.

And honestly if this theory does turn out to be the case, it’d serve as an excellent metaphor for wealth inequality, possibly gentrification, and most definitely exploitation of the lower classes of the socioeconomic hierarchy by the upper crust elite WASP 1% so as to perpetuate the status quo of the rich getting richer and the poor getting poorer and continuing to suffer. That itself is kinda sorta already supported by the text of Fear Street too in that Sunnyvale is made up of mainly privileged white suburbanites who live in antebellum architecture style houses and manors blanketed by green grass and white picket fences whereas in contrast Shadyside is home to a clearly diverse and multiethnic population that is disenfranchised, poor, low in prospects, high in death and suffering, and living in relative squalor…

So imma leave that here and I hope y’all add your own theories and observations if you can and want to. I’d love to read them so please don’t hesitate to reblog with your additions and stuff!

[blahkugo]

hi sexy gorl can i see what katsuki + supernatural is like? congrats on 1k, i hope you hit infinity!! - 🦍 anon

thank you my sweet, beautiful gorilla an(nie)on. your identity may always be a mystery, but i feel as though we’re very close friends ♡

                                  -ˋˏ ༻ 光 ༺ ˎˊ-

「BAKUGOU KATSUKI」

— supernatural! au / mythology! au

— warnings: 18+, smut, all characters are aged up.

⤏ the greek gods are alive and well, thriving even. with daily offerings from millions around the world, their powers surpass limits well beyond human perception.

⤏ of course, humanity either prospers or perishes at the fall of a pin; the pettiest grievance can mean life or death for a mortal being, and so, humanity does all it can to keep them pleased

⤏ with this surge of followers, comes evolution. specifically, of the minor monsters and mythological creatures. beasts gain the ability to shift between forms, using molds of mortals to lure them to their deaths

⤏ enter: katsuki bakugou, the hell hound

⤏ cerberus is no longer simply a four-legged beast. he walks the mortal realm like any other, a— quite hotheaded— aide to hades. a corruptor of souls, if you will

⤏ but mostly, hades just uses him to get under zeus’ skin.

⤏ if there’s anything zeus absolutely loves, it’s beautiful women. maidens— skin smooth as whipped butter, voices sweet as pure honey— tempting him to dip a finger, or rather an entire limb, into the world of adultery

⤏ and so, the hell hound, when not dutifully guarding the gates of the underworld, prowls for these women. devoted worshippers, who fall to their knees to please the insatiable god, suddenly find themselves enticed by the massive riches bakugou promises them under the patron of hades (among other massive things)

“The mortal realm has nothing for me,” Katsuki pounds a fist against the flat ground, howling. No response from his heinous master. “Bastard!” 

At that, the earth trembles and shakes, seething from deep within. It seems Lord Hades does not take kindly to insults; however, he is too riled up to heed the warning. The son of a bitch can burn this vile domain to the ground, for all he cares. 

As a force that only bows to those whose veins surge with the blessing of the gods, one would think Cerberus has better things to do than be stuck in the world of puny humans. He’s a guardian of the gates of hell, a fierce soldier whose talents lie in the bloody ravaging of intruders. Preying on wide-eyed, imbecilic matrons— sorry women who believe that philanderer of a god Zeus is going to save them— is the last thing he should be doing.

And yet, it is exactly what his Lord has commanded of him. ‘You will enjoy your time with the mortals,’ the cretin had simply chuckled at Katsuki’s disputes on the matter. He pounds another fist against the grass, though this time, with less gall.  

“Father Zeus, holder of lightning,” he hears the soft chime of his victim’s voice before he sees you. Making his way through thick underbrush, he follows the sound until he sees you. 

And there you perch, kneeling at the modest altar in devout worship. Though your knees must ache, separated from the hard floor by only a simple robe, you chant the words perfectly; it seems you take special care not to falter in prayer. “I implore you, guide me to be just.” 

Katsuki simply observes, keeping his distance so as to not interrupt you. It is not as though you are the first human woman to cross his path; he has pillaged one too many poor souls who have stumbled into the Underworld, though you are certainly the most enchanting. 

It isn’t your looks that have him mesmerized, not at all. While your beauty— the curve of your supple lips, your plentiful bosom, the slight dip of your lower back— certainly aids the situation, it’s your demeanor that keeps him rooted sturdily in place. Not once does your voice waver, nor do your limbs quake. You keep steadfast in your goal of bestowing proper homage upon your cruel, cruel god. 

How dare the bastard neglect such a worthy offering? How can he stand to keep someone of such stature, tiny yet flooding with vigor, on your knees when you so clearly cherish him with your entire being? 

By the time your prayer is over, dusk has long since come and gone; your fire is now reduced to mere ashes, and Katsuki’s sharp eyes don’t overlook the chills that appear on your exposed skin. 

Even so, the altar is bathed in an ethereal glow, your basket of oblations untouched. As they will remain, until some insufferable thief comes along and snatches them away. For a reason unbeknownst to him, the thought of this occurrence sends electricity down his spine, harsh red clouding his sight, his nails itching to shift into claws. 

“Why do you bow to a god,” his gruff lilt resonates across the field, startling you, “who is too preoccupied committing adultery to accept your bounty?” His aim is not to lull you into a false sense of compliance, as Hades wishes, but to talk some logic into an ignorant sheep. 

Within seconds, he crosses the field until he finds himself only inches away from you. Though he had noticed a syrupy scent from afar, it’s nothing compared to now: ambrosia, nectar of the gods. The smell is practically intoxicating— it must be the offerings. 

“Oh dear Zeus, he knows not what he says,” you ignore his question, choosing instead to beseech your lord for forgiveness. It’s odd, and a bit insulting, that you don’t cower in the presence of Cerberus, his looming form typically sending travelers into shock. Even as he inches closer, you make no move to run or hide. 

“How many times must I tell you he’s not listening,” the deep growl that escapes his throat borders on ravenous. He has to give it to his master, “At least Hades answers.” 

At the mention of Zeus’s brother, you finally turn to face Katsuki, eyes narrowing at the irritable man. He’s chosen well to hide his true form, but his eyes— piercing, blood red— must still seem every bit akin to a beast. 

“Zeus has blessed my family for generations past and will do so for generations to come,” you offer meekly. What happened to the steadfast woman he saw only minutes ago? 

“Of course,” he smirks, baring sharp canines, “and I’m sure that is why you don the robes of a humble servant.” When he spots your lips turning downwards, just for a single second, Katsuki knows he’s won. 

But as intimidating as he attempts to be, the sweet scents of honey and nectar threaten to reveal his wanton need. With every step forward, he feels the aura envelop him, attack every one of his senses and send his head spinning. “I could show you,” he’s unable to stop the words from exiting, “you could have all you desire under Hades.” 

“And what do you know of my desires?” Your poise is back tenfold, paired with a quirk of your brow and what he thinks is a dangerous gleam in your eyes. He never thought he’d use that word to describe a mortal woman, of all beings, but here he is. 

“My knowledge surpasses yours,” he brings a pointed nail, a claw, to rest under your chin, tilting your head up so that you may see him in all his glory. 

His finger grazes your bottom lip, and he snickers when you part it to allow him greater access. “Wealth beyond your wildest dreams,” the digit dips into your mouth, presses against your tongue. “Good health,” he brings his other hand to cradle your jaw, bending so that his face meets yours. Inhaling deeply, he now realizes that the pleasant odor was not the offering, but you. 

“Is that all?” you mumble, words muffled. His entire body shudders at the lapping of your wet muscle around his finger, all blood rushing to his nether regions. 

“No.”  The slender digits cupping your face scratch softly against your cheekbone. Beautiful. “Best of all, Hades will offer you— I will give you,” he’s crouching now, pulling his finger from between your lips to give his mouth access, “pleasure.”

                          ᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ 光 ⚘᠂ ⚘ ᠃

[bunnys-beetlejuice-blog]

bangs pots and pans together loudly FIC UPDATE COME GET YALL SOME JUICE

Apparently the vital, missing component to enjoying school was having a friend there. Go figure.

He and Kevin only have that first period class together, but they make the most of it, passing notes back and forth between the two of them, the teacher too tired that early in the morning to notice, or care. Lunch isn’t depressing anymore. They sit together under the shade tree, and Kevin does seem to also appreciate the view. “Can you even imagine working up a sweat, on purpose?” Betelgeuse pats his gut. “You know I can’t.”

“I can’t believe how little the track shorts are. That’s obscene. You think I’d look good in them?” “You join track and I’ll come to every meet, an’ it won’t be for th’ love of th’ sport.” He doesn’t think normal friends talk to each other like this, but he doesn’t actually know. Does everyone flirt with their friends? Are friends just cool people you wanna fuck but haven’t yet? Is it demon hormone bullshit, making him read into everything? Unclear.

It’s all going so good, until it isn’t, suddenly.

One lunch, two months into being there, Kevin pulls a huge and impressive old book from his backpack. “Look what I goooot,” he sing songs, waving it in Betelgeuse’s face, and he sneezes in response. “Smells old.” Emily and Lydia would love it. “It is. It’s very old,” Kevin confirms, and he moves so he’s sitting next to Betelgeuse, shoulder to shoulder, both their backs to the shade tree. “It’s about demons.”

Betelgeuse loses interest immediately, and focuses on not going pink at their shoulders touching, instead. “Z’at so?” he grunts. Kevin doesn’t seem to pick up on his moodiness, though. “It talks about all these ancient beings,” he explains, flipping pages. “Their summoning circles, their aspects,” he gives Betelgeuse a nudge at that, “all the things they can do for you, and the boons they grant.” He feels uncomfortable. “What’s with this? You obsessed with me, or somethin’?” He tries to play it as a joke, but that glint in Kevin’s eyes is back, and he doesn’t like it. “Of course, who wouldn’t be obsessed if they learned all this shit is actually true? It’s like there’s a whole secret world behind a locked door, and I’ve got the key.” Kevin looks back up at him.

He gets the feeling he’s the key. It’s not a good feeling.

“Where’d you even get this fuckin’ thing?” he lifts a finger, and the book slams closed in Kevin’s lap. His friend huffs. “Internet, of course.” “No, I mean… why were you lookin’ for somethin’ like this?” “I want to learn more. Don’t you?” Kev presses, and reopens the book. “I mean, what if there’s something amazing you can do, and you just don’t know, cause you’re not bothering to try?”

“So I’ll never know, so what?” Betelgeuse feels like this is a losing argument, but he tries anyways. “What’s so great about bein’ weird? You’re lucky you’re human.” “Dude, don’t even start with that. You can fly.” “So can humans,” he points out. “Wh- A plane and fucking levitating for fun are not the same, and you know it, BeetleJerk.” Kevin honestly can’t understand why he’s not excited over this. “I just mean… I’d rather be human, than this.” He blinks at his own words, because he’s never expressed that out loud before, ever. But it doesn’t feel untrue. “You’re out of your mind, more so than usual. Every human alive wants to feel special, and do the stuff you can do. Why are you acting like it’s so miserable all of a sudden? You use your powers all the time, I’ve seen you literally teleport five feet because you’re too lazy to walk.”

“You don’t get it.” He’s feeling sullen now, and he wiggles a little away from Kevin, and crosses his arms. “BJ, come on-” Betelgeuse teleports away to under the bleachers, and he eats his lunch there, until the bell rings.

He’s waiting for Emily after school, not feeling particularly friendly, when Kevin approaches. They stand there awkwardly. It feels tense, and weird, and he waits to see what the breather does. “Don’t be mad,” Kevin says, finally. “M’not mad.” “You sound mad.” “You know what mad on me looks like,” he finally turns to look at his friend, amber eyes burning with irritation. “First hand.”

Kevin looks down, and kicks at a rock that might not actually be there. “I thought you’d be excited. BJ, come on, I don’t wanna.. Not be friends over this.”

Betelgeuse signs, and scratches at the scruff on his chin. “It’s not like that,” he relents after a moment. “I just, I don’t care about that stuff. An’ I don’t wanna sit around, focusin’ on it. I don’t exactly like feelin’ different. Yeah, I do tricks an’ use my magic an’ stuff, but it’s hard to control. I lose my temper once an’ I could seriously destroy somethin’, or hurt my family. It doesn’t exactly feel good, knowin’ that. No one else my age can stand me, cause they can tell I’m weird. Before you, it was fuckin’ lonely, Kev.”

He feels a familiar pressure, because Kevin has taken his hand, and the human gives it a squeeze. He accepts it, melting a little against the other boy. “Still friends?” Kevin asks, and Betelgeuse purrs in response, resting his head on Kevin’s shoulder.

It’s not till later, at home, that he realizes Kevin never actually apologized.

```````````````````````````````````````````````````````

It’s like that, for a while. He knows Kevin still has the book. He knows he’s reading it, and sometimes Kevin will bring up demon stuff, but Betelgeuse has almost exactly a minute and a half of patience for answering questions or hearing about it. Still, Kev doesn’t stop. He might feel angrier if the breather wasn’t so god damn cute.

The air is starting to go cold, and leaves are beginning to fall. October is settling in, getting comfortable, and mom’s starting to break out the Halloween décor. It’s the middle of a kind of gloomy, Autumn day, when things get weird.

Kevin has the book open, much to Betelgeuse’s annoyance, and he’s blabbing away about a demon that supposedly grants wealth- “Do you think you could do that?” -when Betelgeuse looks down at the book, and sees Juno looking back at him. It’s not really her, it’s an illustration, but he’d recognize the bitch anywhere. She’s ink, glaring up from the page, those same age lines etched into her face, confirming his private theory that she’d been an old hag even when she was young. The slit neck is prominent, and as he stares, he sees smoke billow out of it. Oh, fuck no.

He grabs the book and slams it shut, startling Kevin, and then he teleports it directly under them, a mile down in the rock of the earth. Kev blinks for a moment, confused, before looking at his friend. “Wh.. Dude, WHAT?”

“Possessed book,” he croaks out, feeling tense, because he can smell cigarette smoke. “And you’re afraid of it? Why? You are also a literal fucking demon!” “That’s why I’m not messin’ with it!” Betelgeuse stands up, uneasy. The ground around the tree feels weird, now. He doesn’t like it here anymore. “Cause I actually understand why it’s a bad fuckin’ idea! God, you should have instincts that tell you not to mess with this stuff! You’re deficient, Kev, seriously.”

“Me deficient? Seriously?” Kev snaps, which hurts in a new, unexpected way. “Whatever, asshole. Give me my book back.” Kevin stands up, too, but he’s not uneasy, he’s angry.

“It’s better off where it is.”

“Which is where?”

Betelgeuse glances down. The grass around the tree is starting to wither. Kevin follows his gaze, but doesn’t seem to notice the dying vegetation. “You buried it? Come on!”

“Leave it, Kev.”

“This isn’t just your cool secret, anymore, it’s mine too!” Kevin glares at him. “You can’t keep me out of it, BJ. That’s not fair. God, at this point, I know more than you! You should be listening to me!”

He feels his volatile temper flare.

“Ex-fuckin’-scuze me?”

He waits for Kevin to take it back. Instead, his friend doubles down. “Demons have to listen to humans,” Kevin crosses his arms. “If they’re summoned. It’s in the book.” “Nobody summoned me,” Betelgeuse snarls, letting his real snake eyes show, an intimidation tactic that works for about half a second. Kevin’s too used to him, at this point. “I’m up here on a deal.” “Bet I could do it. I bet I could summon you. Then you’d have to listen to me.” “Yeah? Well, good luck without your stupid book!” He storms off, leaving Kevin standing there.

```````````````````````````````````````````````````````

The rest of the day sucks. He’s moody all day, annoyed in the car, grumpy in his room. He cranks metal and wishes he’d learned to play a guitar instead of his rinky, happy sounding ukulele. The instrument isn’t going to produce the noise he wants to express himself, right now. He throws it across the room, into a wall, where it smashes, and reforms a minute later, because… it’s still his favorite, after all. Even if it’s no good for expressing his teenage angst.

He can hear shuffling, and talking, outside his room, though he can’t make out what’s being said over the music. After a moment, though, there’s a knock at his door. “Hey, Bug?” Emily calls. “Can you come give me a hand with something?” He wants to tell her to piss off, go away, to leave him the hell alone, but.. It’s Emily. The CD player lets out a strangled choke and suddenly stops, and the door swings open, all without him moving from his flopped position on the bed. “Sup, ma?” he grunts. Emily peaks her head into the room, and smiles when she sees him, the expression radiating warmth and adoration and.. Oh, God/Satan, bless his sunbeam of a mother. “Just wondering if you’re free to do a little decorating?” She reaches behind her and grabs a fake severed bloody limb from the box he assumes she’s dragged into the hallway from the attic. “Don’t you worry it takes away from the “wow factor” to do Halloween twice a year?” He asks, standing and stretching, before apparating in the hallway behind her, and giving the decor box a nudge with his boot. “What? No way, there’s never enough Halloween!” Emily grins. “Get that, please.” The box floats along behind him as they head downstairs. They pause in the entryway, as Emily thinks out loud. “So, maybe the kitchen should be-” “Functional as a kitchen, please,” Charles calls from the living room. Emily rolls her eyes. “Okay, fine! Spoilsport! We’ll focus on the entryway for now,” she decides. “You wanna put up cobwebs in the rafters?” She gets on tiptoes to reach into the floating box, and he lowers it a bit for her, as she grabs the fake webbing. “I could just instantly decorate the whole room,” He takes to floating next to the box. “Could make sure it’s all normal human stuff, too,” He adds, before she can respond. “I know you can… But I like decorating,” Emily says brightly. “It’s not about getting it done quickly. It’s about, you know, doing it together.” “So why are dad and Lydia slacking?” Her smile doesn’t falter, but becomes softer. “It kinda felt like you needed some mom time, today,” She says simply. God, she can read him easier than Kev can read his stupid book. “We got in a fight,” he admits. She hums at that, because he only has one friend. It’s not hard to guess who he could possibly mean. “I’m sorry, Bug. What over?” He hesitates. So far he’s not let any of his family in on this book business. He’s been sort of hoping it could just go away on it’s own, and not be a thing. Kevin’s made it into a thing, though, and not telling even his mom feels… bad.

“He’s really into demons. Like, really, really into em,” He rasps, floating up and beginning to put up the spiderwebs, as his mother takes down the usual, sort of spooky wall hangings and trades them for her very intentionally spooky Halloween ones. “He’s got this book, an’ it’s all about demons an’ like, how to summon them, an’ their powers, an’ stuff… Sometimes th’ way he talks, it’s like.. Are we friends cause we’re friends, or friends cause you think I’m gonna be... useful?”

Maybe that doesn't make any sense, but that’s how it’s been feeling, like there’s an invisible shoe hanging midair, and it’s about to drop. His mother waits until he’s finished before looking up at him. “And you fought over that?” She prods. “Not exactly.” How the fuck can she even tell that, though? Damn her mom powers. He really, really didn’t want to talk about this, not to her, but… “I saw Juno. In th’ book,'' He lowers back down to the floor, and digs through the box, pulling out fake body parts. Back up he goes, to stick these in the fake webbing. “It was just a drawing of her, but it started like.. Billowing smoke-”

“From the neck,” His mother remembers, suppressing a shudder.

“Yeah. I could smell the smoke. So I got rid of the book, buried it in th’ school yard, but Kev got all pissy about it. He thinks he’s an expert on this shit, an’ he’s gonna mess with somethin’ big if he keeps this up.” “I’m sure you’ve told him that.” “He doesn’t listen. He gets this look in his eye, like it’s a game, or like… I dunno. Feels sometimes like he thinks he’s…” He searches for the words. “Like he thinks he oughta be the boss a’me, or somethin’.”

He rubs absentmindedly at the moss on his nose. It clings, stubborn as ever, same with the patches by his hairline, and he’s found it’s easier to just add another little layer to his glamour than try to do anything about it.

Maybe that’s indicative of a bigger problem. It’s easier to do a bit of magic and make everything look better than to actually fix the underlying problem. Ugh, introspection, how absolutely miserable. He wants to keep thoughts like that locked away tight, but they have a habit of slipping past his mental defenses and making him feel worse. Absolutely no one can make him feel shittier than he himself can. He sinks to the ground, going purple, and he’s instantly wrapped in his mother’s arms. “It’s okay, Beetlejuice,” Emily has both her hands on the back of his head, and he pushes his face into the crook of her neck. “I just.. I’ve only got the one friend,” he groans. “I don’t wanna stop bein’ his friend, but.. Fuck, ma.”

“I know.” Her voice is a soothing balm. She works her hands through the mess of purple hair at the back of his head. “I know, sweetheart. I know it’s lonely at school, but school isn’t forever,” she tries to assure him. “If your friend is treating you this way, well.. He’s not a very good friend. Do you want to be around someone who makes you feel this bad? Does it feel worth it, to you?”

He knows the correct answer is, “No,” but he’s not sure if his self esteem is high enough for that.

“I like him a lot,” He grumbles, and she hums again. “He’s handsome,” She says, and then pulls back far enough to pinch his nose. “But not as handsome as my son, of course,” and it’s silly enough to help knock away his mood, so that’s something, at least. “What should I do?” He doesn’t pull away from her, just soaks up the mom energy for as long as he can. “I think you need to have a talk,” Emily tells him. “Lay out how you’re feeling. Try to get his side of things, and make sure he hears your side, too. Then, at least you both tried, you know?”

It’s such a mom type answer. He groans again.

“I was worried you’d say some shit like that.” She fuzzes his hair, and he feels the tingle in his scalp that means it’s changed colors. Back to green, he assumes. “You know your moss changes color along with your hair? And your creepo-stache?” “Leave the stache alone, it’s tryin’ it’s best,” He pretends to be defensive.

“It makes you look like the founder of a forum for people who marry their cars,” Lydia offers, from the bottom step of the staircase, where she has apparently been just chilling and listening.

“Wh-! Mom, it’s not that bad, right?” Emily tilts her head to the side and gives what can only be described as a condescending smile. “Oh, you’re both in for it now.” He brings the various decor items to life to terrorize them, and then Charles joins his side, sympathizing with his son vis-à-vis bad teenage facial hair, and by the time the whole squabble is over, hardly any decorating has gotten done… But he does feel better. His family’s good like that.

```````````````````````````````````````````````````````

Monday rolls around, same as it always does, but there’s a weird feeling in the air. Halloween is a week away, barely missing getting a weekend date, but there’s some big Halloween bash the school is apparently throwing. There’s fliers for it everywhere, plastered all over lockers and bulletin boards. He’s not much of a participator, though, and his reaction to his locker being plastered over with invites to a party he doesn't care about is to snap his fingers. All the fliers on all the lockers up and down the hall, all instantly fall loose at once, littering the floor. A few students jump back, but no one looks his way, because why would they?

He’s grabbing his history textbook when he feels a tap on the shoulder, and when he turns, it’s a girl he recognizes, but her name is absolutely lost on him.

“You’re BJ, right?” Miffy askes, and he nods. “Yeah, s’right,” and Margo seems to wince at how gruff his voice is, before continuing. “Um, you and that guy Kevin, you’re like…” Milicent trails off, waiting for him to finish her thought, but sorry, baby, he can barely finish his own. “Like…?” He says, with his gravel voice copying her tone and inflection, and she huffs. “Together?” Marge asks, “Like, all of the time?”

He cocks his head, and squints at her, hands t-rexing at his sides, as Lydia likes to say.\

“Usually,” He concedes, and he gets the feeling he’s dragging this out much, much more than Mango clearly wants, because he spies a group of girls a little ways off, waiting for her. One of them is staring intently, more focused on him, but he pushes that thought aside.

“Look, okay, he’s gonna be out for a few days, and I’m just trying to see if you can take him his homework,” McGrubber has grown tired of having to stand here, talking to the chubby goth loser, apparently. “I’m a student aid in the office and they’re trying to make me do it, but I have track practice!” Thaaaat’s where he knows her from. She looks different, not bouncing and sweating and also not half a football field away. “Sure, fine, I’ll make sure Kev gets his work. Wouldn’t want you to miss out on running in a fuckin’ circle, Maria.” Her face sours. “It’s Blair.” So close. “Who fuckin’ cares,” He replies, and turns back to his locker. He can hear her rejoin her friend group, all of them fawning over her harrowing experience of having to speak to him in public. The last thing he hears from Blair is, “He’s just so goddamn weird,” and then the group rounds the corner.

He closes his locker harder than he maybe needs to.

Kevin isn’t in class that day, or the next, or even the one after. The shade tree has withered and died completely, it’s color sapped and gone, and even walking near it makes him feel uneasy. His new lonely lunch spot is under the bleachers, which feels even more voyeuristic of a spot to watch the track team, but even that activity feels tainted, somehow. He’s back to being lonely.

He can’t stand being lonely.

It gets so bad he contemplates sitting, wait for it, on the bleachers, and maybe even trying to strike up a conversation, but he’s too chicken shit. He’s been going to school with these kids for the past three years, and no one’s wanted to talk to him or chat with him in all that time. He can’t imagine that’s about to change.

Still, on Thursday, miserable and lonely, he gives it a try.

Sitting up here sucks. It’s just a hard metal seat on a gloomy day, and when he’d ventured up and sat down, other people had slowly moved away from him, until he was sitting by himself, all the breathers huddled in a different area, away from him. He'd tried talking, but hardly had a "Hey, how ya doin'?" grated out before the migration began.

Figures.

He finishes eating and lies on his back, resting his hands on his chest, eyes closed, and after a while he feels someone standing over him, and something laid over his hands. He opens his eyes. There’s the most beautiful girl staring down at him. She’s got long, bleach blonde hair, darker at the roots, which is hanging down in a halo around her face, and the biggest, clearest blue eyes he’s ever seen. He glances down, to see she’s placed a daisy over his hand. He looks back up at her, amber eyes questioning.

“You looked so still,” She smiles. Her voice is like music. He thinks he can hear harps. “With your hands folded like that. Kind of like an open casket.” He’d been forgetting to breathe, apparently, which happens sometimes. She thought he looked like a corpse, and she placed a flower over him.

“Sorry, if that’s weird. You’re.. BJ?” She asks, and he picks up the daisy, sits up, and nods. “Yeah, you’re…” “Barbara,” she fills him in. “You’re not so good with names.” “Mmm. Buffy tell you that?” He recognizes her now, from that group of girls. Barbara sits next to him, which makes zero sense. “It’s Blair,” she corrects him gently, but not without a giggle in her voice. “Oh, right.” Her name could be fuckin’ Moonpie and it’d make the same amount of difference to him, but he’d agree with anything Barbara said, if it meant she kept sitting there, talking to him. “Are you going to the Halloween party?” She asks. “Supposed to be pretty killer. It kind of seems like your scene.” “I’m not exactly a social butterfly,” which is the understatement of the god damn century, honestly, but she laughs and nudges her shoulder with his. “Well, I think you should come. I bet you’d have the coolest costume. Maybe think about it?”

“I guess, maybe..” He says lamely, because his brain is short circuiting from that small touch.

“Barb, come on!” someone calls to her from a ways away, on the track. Lunch is nearly over. She stands, and smooths down the long skirt she’s wearing, which is modest but flattering. “Later, BJ,” she smiles, and just like that, she’s gone, like an angel going back up to heaven in a beam of light, off to rejoin her friends. He can hear what she says to them, though. “You guys are mean, he’s not so bad. Just shy.”

He keeps the daisy in a little glass of water on his dresser, and strums love songs on his ukulele.

```````````````````````````````````````````````````````

Thinking about Barbara and her smile and the way she nudged him is a fun distraction, at least for a little while, but when it’s Saturday, and he still hasn’t heard from Kevin, he decides it’s time to demon up and see what the fuck is happening with him. He’s been just teleporting Kev’s homework inside his room, and he’s sure it’s falling into a pile on the floor each time and startling him, but no one ever said how he had to deliver it. Today though, emboldened by the pretty girl on the bleachers, he appears at Kevin’s front door instead, holding Friday’s work, and he knocks. It takes a moment, but Mr. Loh answers.

Betelgeuse hasn’t had much chance to interact with Kev’s dad. He looks like a normal, tired dad, wholly unimpressive, and kinda short. Chuck could wrestle this guy to the mat, no problem.

“Oh, BJ,” Mr. Loh says, and then glances at what’s in his hands. “Kevin’s homework? Thank you. He’s holed up in his room… won’t come out.. Maybe,” and he suddenly looks hopeful. “You two are friends. Maybe you can try talking to him?”

Well, that’s what he was there to do anyways, so sure. “I gotcha, Mr. L,” he nods, stepping inside, and heading up the stairs and down the hall to Kevin’s room. The closer he gets to the door, though, the weirder he feels. Something stinks, figuratively and literally. It smells like… It smells like the waiting room. It’s that same, veil is thin type air that he can smell on Halloween night, but how the fuck is he smelling it here? He bangs on Kevin’s door. “Hey, Kev, it’s the B-Man,” he calls, trying to keep his tone playful, but he feels like he’s doing a poor job. What the hell is going on? “Come on, man, open up!” He tries again, when he receives no response. He thinks he can hear a shuffle behind the door. “Dude, I will bust this fuckin’ door down,” He growls, all the play gone from his tone. “You know I will. Better yet-”

He appears inside the bedroom, just in time for Kevin to slam shut the closet door. Kevin turns to look at him, back pressed to the wood. There’s a beat, both teens staring at each other, wide eyed, Betelgeuse in that weird way he does, and Kevin looking frazzled. “What,” the demon grates out, “the fuck, are you getting up to in here? It smells like the netherworld, Kev.” Unfortunately, that makes Kevin’s face light up. “It does? Oh my god, that’s perfect! It must be starting to work!” He crosses the bedroom, going to his desk, where an old book is sitting open. It’s not the same one he took from his friend, it can’t be, that book is still a mile down in presumably solid rock. “Another musty ass tome, great,” he growls, but Kevin ignores him, flipping through the book.

He hates feeling ignored.

A black and white striped arm sprouts from Kevin’s desk, and slams the book shut, which makes the breather turn and glare at him. “Get out of my room, BJ,” is all Kevin says, and Betelgeuse ignores that, instead crossing the floor to get a look at that book. “Where th’ hell do you keep finding these fuckin’ things?”

“This one I bought from a one armed man living out of a 1973 Oldsmobile Delta 88 Royale,” Kevin recites. Betelgeuse squints at him, top teeth over bottom lip. “You’re too gay to know what that means,” he says, plainly, and Kevin shrugs. “He wouldn’t stop talking about his stupid car. I now know more about that antique than I know about geography.” It feels fun, for a second, like this drama isn’t happening, and they’re just having a conversation. It doesn’t last, though. He can’t let Kev off the hook.

“So you bought a second cursed book, this time from some amputee homeless guy, and you’re just, doing the rituals inside of it? And this seems like a super good idea to you?”

“I’m practicing,” Kevin replies.

“So what’s in the closet, Kevin?”

“Get out of my room, Betelgeuse.”

The way Kevin says his name is weird. It doesn’t feel like how it normally feels when a breather says the full thing. He shakes it off, and gives his friend a defiant look, before waving a hand and throwing open the closet door. There’s a cleared spot, in the middle of the closet floor, and a fucking summoning circle in what smells like, “Pig’s blood? Couldn’t get human?” He turns to look at Kevin, who is glaring at him intently. He matches the look.

“Betelgeuse Shoggoth, get out of my room.”

That gets his attention. It feels like an invisible hand is pushing him, and he stumbles back out of the room, confused. “W-what?” Kevin is just standing there, staring at him, and Betelgeuse stares back, eyes wild. “You motherfucker,” he hisses, eyes in snake slits, teeth sharp, claws extended. “You wanna do that “real name” bullshit with me? That the choice you’re makin’ here, Kev?”

Kevin doesn’t even look phased. “I’m working on gaining a bit more control, but looks like that works, for now.”

“You’re cracked!” Betelgeuse growls, absolutely furious. “You’re really tryin’ to summon me? Are you out of your head!?”

“You’re wasting your powers,” Kevin storms forward. “You’re a supernatural being, and you go to school and play your stupid ukulele, and don’t even try to do anything bigger. You could be stepping on everyone under you,” his former friend is going red in the face. “You could be leading, you could be ruling, but you just jerk off in your room and play pretend at being human. But someone might as well profit, here. Why not me?”

“I thought.. I thought we were friends,” is all the demon can say, lamely, and Kevin’s smile is the meanest thing he’s ever seen on a breather. “Once you’re fully listening to me, we can be friends again. Betelgeuse Shoggoth, get out of my house.”

He feels that same invisible pull, and he thinks maybe if he was stronger he could resist it, but a demon’s true name is like a lead on a dog, meant to control them, and unfortunately, Kevin has a tight hand on his leash. He makes it to the front door, and stumbles out, covering his face until he can calm himself enough to reapply his glamour.

Shit, he thinks, straightening up, and staring up at Kevin’s bedroom window. He is so fucked. ``````````````````````````````````````````````` Posted this chapter and another over at Ao3. You can read it right here

[fierypen37]

The Oasis: Chapter 19

Chapter 19

 Woken the dragon. Vis had always said that growing up, whenever she annoyed him—which was often. Now, staring down the barrel of his silver revolver, Daenerys felt another dragon wake inside her. A wild thing of rage and betrayal, ready to burn all who stood in her way. For herself. For Jon.

Viserys’s features were a narrower, masculine echo of her own. The expression he wore was one she recognized, composed but triumphant. Daenerys didn’t dare break eye contact, but she felt Ramsay looming behind her. On the edges of her periphery, she saw the car lurch and one, two, three bodyguards emerge. Ramsay jabbed the back of her head with the gun.

“Kneel,” he said. Daenerys did so. The bumpy asphalt dug into her knees. Five armed men twice her size and all she had was a two-bit nail.    

“Why?” she said, the word trembling in the air. Viserys’ face creased into a moue of displeasure.  

“I didn’t want all this, Dany. But you refused to cooperate.”

“Cooperate? What in the seven hells are you talking about?”              

“I thought you understood. The goal was to get it back, get everything back, no matter the cost!” Daenerys’ lips felt numb. She licked them, striving for patience, for calm. The tone she found was an old one, from when he would rage and throw things, railing at the unfairness of the world. A soothing medley.  

“To get our home back. I know, Vis. There’s been government red tape around Dragonstone. You’ve been to the meetings. We’re working on it.”

Dragonstone was their home, that was the thing that unified the two of them—the last Targaryens against the world.

“But the Dragon is mine! My birthright! A throne not meant for a sniveling girl who couldn’t keep her legs closed.” Gods, he was beyond his usual self-absorbed bullshit. This was some god-level projection coupled with delusions of grandeur. Daenerys went cold. Just like Dad. Still, the fire in her belly pushed words out before she could stopper them.  

“Dragon is mine, Vis. I built it. With my sweat and blood, I built it from the ground up. Breaking Chains as well.”

“Everything that is yours is also mine. I made you,” he hissed and prodded her forehead with the barrel of the gun, “If only you’d cooperated. Daario would--”

“What does Daario have to do with--” she began. Viserys slapped her so hard her cheek tingled and her ear rang.

With sudden blinding clarity, she understood. Viserys had taken loans from Stormcrow and had—she clenched her eyes shut at the fresh wave of betrayal. Two hot tears eked out. Daario had taken her as payment. Why else would Daario look so confused when she broke it off? Why else would Viserys demand she return to him, no matter the circumstances?

“You sold me.” Vis was unmoved.

“It worked out fine for you, didn’t it? You were even going to marry him. It was Daario who gave me the idea. He kept whining about the increased expense of your security detail after the death threats from the Harpies. They’re nothing but Ghiscari scum, they had no real power to make good on those threats.” Viserys’s lilac eyes took on a glazed, feverish shine.

“But then—ah ha!—think of the news coverage. The philanthropist CEO, Daenerys Targaryen, dedicated to bettering the downtrodden, slain by very villains she fought. So tragic. So cinematic. Dragon’s stock would go through the roof! Televise the funeral, rake in donations, weep a little for the cameras, and then . . . Dragon is mine and only mine. As it should be.” The tinny taste of blood leaked from the opened cut in her lip.  

“You’re insane,” she whispered. Viserys’s eye twitched and he gestured. Ramsay hauled her up by her bound hands. Pain shrieked through her shoulders and she bit back a cry. Ramsay drew a long, wicked knife and set it at the base of her throat.

“Oh yes, sweetling. We’ll get to play,” he whispered in her ear. Viserys stalked closer, patting Daenerys’ cheek with deceptive gentleness.

“You made it very difficult for me. You and this Jon Snow. It was a stroke of luck Ramsay extracted the name out of that Lorathi woman before she died. Such a little slut, aren’t you? How long had you been fucking the masseuse? He trotted after his bitch like you were in heat. I staged it to echo Dad’s death. Dirty and pathetic in an alley. My origin story, right? After my sister, my only family, dies tragically, I take up the reins of the company. Then you thwarted me. I admit, the machine guns on Loom Street were a bit much, but I was just so angry. Selmy was a good man, I trusted him. I do regret that.”

“You shot him in the street like a godsdamned dog! He--” Ramsay grazed her throat suggestively with the knife and Daenerys swallowed her choler.

Viserys plunged on as if he hadn’t heard her. Perhaps he didn’t.

“And then poof--” he snapped his fingers, “you dropped off the face of the earth! It wasn’t until I found the footage. You and Snow were still together. You sunk your hooks in deep, you wicked girl. Still, it’s a big world, and Snow had connections to Stark wealth, nearly as prodigious and ancient as the Targaryen’s. Lucky for me, Ramsay is a northman too. Loathes the Starks.”

“Self-righteous cunts,” Ramsay agreed.

“He thought to look for something smaller, more remote. And there it is, plain as day on public record microfiche, a deed for a house billed to Eddard Stark—Jon Snow’s father.” Jon. Dead. Burned to ash. A fresh wave of grief buffeted her.          

“Viserys, please,” she croaked, “I’ll step down. I’ll cede Dragon to you, I swear it. Just don’t do this.” He had the gall to look sad about it. He bent and kissed her forehead.

“I’m sorry, sweet sister. It has to be this way.”

Daenerys glared him down. She tucked the nail between her fingers. There was only one chance to use it. She dragged in a deep breath, her heartbeat thudding loud in her ears. Wait. Wait for the right moment. Viserys snapped his fingers, gesturing for one of the burly guards. Too much of a coward to pull the trigger himself. The shadow of a snake.

“You are no dragon,” she said, mutinous.

Bam!

Bam bam!

Daenerys blinked dumbly as one of the bodyguards crumpled, bleeding from behind the ear. Viserys was cursing and shouting, ducking behind the remaining two, who shot blindly into the thick woods surrounding the tarmac. The noise and smoke filled her senses. Shots went wild, cutting holes in the sedan like cheese. Shattered glass tinkled on the ground. Ramsay cursed. He dropped his knife to draw his gun, yanking her tight against him.

“You wouldn’t know anything about this, would you?” he hissed in her ear. I wish. Even if there was a park ranger or police officer who happened by, they would have announced themselves. Her security team was hundreds of kilometers away. And Jon was—Daenerys bit her lip.

The gunfire ceased. Her ears rang from the noise. Daenerys craned her head to look for Viserys. She saw his expensive leather shoes beneath the shattered door of the car, cowering. Where were the guards?

“Got him, Boss!” a rough voice said. Him? Her mystery defender? Her knees gave out when the burly men emerged from the brush.

“Jon?”

 ~

 Fuck. He was a fucking idiot. The calvary was on its way, all he had to do was stall. He could have picked off another one of the thick-necked fuckers, scared that chickenshit Viserys into spooking. On the other hand, seeing a gun pointed at his heart-and-fucking-soul made him a little twitchy. Jon had pushed the Old Bear’s beat-up truck to its limits to reach the airstrip, praying his hunch would pay off. And now all it did was get him a front-row seat to watching Dany die.              

The hunting rifle jammed, but he’d broken one of the goon’s jaw for his trouble. The utility knife was rolled in his sock, not that it did him much good at the moment. Goons One and Two had his arms in a lock behind his back, dragging him down the shallow hill to the tarmac. Dany’s sobs tore already pulverized heart into tinier shreds.

“Jon, Jon, I thought you were dead!” she said, her voice thick with tears. Jon flicked his gaze over her from her braid to her ziptied wrists to her bare feet. A bit battered, but whole, still—thank the gods. He turned his baleful gaze on the source of their misery. Viserys—the skinny little fuck—sneered at Jon. What kind of sick fuck wanted to assassinate his own sister?

“The unkillable Jon Snow.” Starks are hard to kill, Dad always said.

“The chickenshit Viserys Targaryen,” Jon shot back. Viserys made a curt shooing gesture.

“Gods. Let’s get this over with before anything else goes wrong. It’s going to cost me a fortune to clean all this up.”

“Boss, can’t I just shave off a--” The bug-eyed fuck who held Dany brandished the knife, nicking the curve of her jaw. Dany gasped, and Jon saw red watching the blood seep from the cut.

“Come try and shave off a bit of me, you little shit!” Jon shouted, lunging. He made a show of thrashing around until Goon Two backhanded him hard. He tasted blood, his ear rang. Jon sagged in their grip, snagging the knife with his fingertips.

“Shut the fuck up!” Viserys bellowed, shocking them all into silence. He jabbed a finger at the bug-eyed fucker.

“Ramsay, we’ve been over this. If you’d pulled off the job like you were supposed to, my sweet sister would be yours to play with as long as you like. As it is, I need her dead. Now. We have a schedule to keep.”

“What about the boyfriend?” Goon One said. Viserys scowled.

“He’s a complication. If he’s here in one piece and armed, he’s called the authorities.” Jon allowed a grim smile. If they made it out of here, Viserys would spend the rest of his pathetic life staring at the walls of Iron Island Penitentiary.

“We better move fast,” Ramsay said gleefully. Viserys kicked aside the body of one of his guards, fishing a pistol from a pool of blood with a moue of distaste.

“Yes, exactly. Any last words, Daenerys?” he said. Daenerys looked at Jon and in her violet eyes, he saw everything he ever wanted. Home. Gods, she was so beautiful.

“I should have told you before. I love you,” she said.

And the world exploded.

 ~

 “I love you.”

Daenerys slammed the nail up and back with all of her strength. It stuck and Ramsay’s shriek rang in her ear.

“You fucking bitch!”

Daenerys ducked down, scrambling away from a staggering Ramsay. Gods. She’d been lucky. Through the sieve of his clutching fingers, she saw the head of the nail stuck in Ramsay’s left eye. Blood and snot poured down his cheeks from his blinded eyes. A flurry of movement. Jon, struggling with the remaining bodyguards. Viserys advanced on her.

“Gods, you’re such a troublesome little cunt! I’ll be glad to be rid of you!” Spittle clung to his lips, his face an inhuman rictus of rage. Daenerys crawled back on her hands and bare feet, feeling the hot bite of the shattered glass.

“Vis, please!” Daenerys screwed her eyes shut.

The loud rapport of the gun.

Bam! Bam! Two shots. A heavy weight landing hard on her. Daenerys snapped her eyes open.

Jon.

Jon: between her and Viserys.

Jon: sticking a knife in Viserys. A struggle. Jon was stronger, skilled. He wrenched the gun away from Viserys. Snaked an arm around his neck, squeezing. Vis fell facefirst. She heard a crunch.

“Dany,” Jon wheezed.

Jon: bleeding.

“Gods, Jon. Jon, you’re shot,” she whispered, pressing at the sticky red spot growing on his chest, awkward with her hands still bound. His breath was wet, rasping.

“Dany.”

Daenerys cast a wild glance around. It looked like a battlefield with destroyed car, dead bodyguards, Ramsay writhing and cursing, Viserys in an awkward heap. And Jon, her hero, her love, bleeding in her arms. Blood made his shirt sticky, another wound in his thigh. No, no, no. She had nothing, nothing but her empty hands to help him.

“It’s ok, Jon. You’re going to be ok. You’re going to be fine,” she said, frantic. She’d seen the world without him. A bleak, lonely stretch of empty road. She couldn’t go back to that. Panic kept inching up her throat, strangling her. Hot tears coursed down her cheeks.

Daenerys looped her arms around his shoulders and heaved him up to rest on her knees. Jon grunted in pain, though his breathing was better. His beautiful eyes were dark with pain.

“Dany. Dany . . .” His brows puckered in a familiar intent scowl. She bent and rained kisses on his face, wishing there was more to do to help.

“Shh, don’t talk. Just focus on—”

“Dany, I love you. I was a . . . a coward before. I love you. Marry me.” There was barely enough breath to push the words out. A weak sob escaped her. Faintly, she heard the peal of a siren.

“Hold on, Jon. Help is coming! I love you, Jon. I love you. Hold on!”

He closed his eyes and Dany clutched him close.  

[nanoland]

new chapter (lucifer fic)

Ponder on the Narrow House, part 6 

Mazikeen/Eve/Michael  

(Whole thing can be read on AO3.) 

0  

Fuck the next bounty.

After thinking about it for ten seconds, Mazikeen turned them around and started driving straight for Los Angeles.

Eve can talk to him. Not me. He needs to talk to someone, and Eve will do.

Barely half a mile later, Amenadiel dropped out of the sky and landed in the middle of the road, just far enough away for her to bring the car to a screeching halt before it would otherwise have slammed into him like wet clay into a steel wall.

“We’ve got a problem,” he said, looking exhausted.

She snorted and pointed skyward. “Yeah. This? Not gonna lie, I was expecting something like this. But I thought it would take, like, at least a month.”

Wincing, Amenadiel said, “No, that’s… that’s a different problem and Chloe’s promised to discuss it with him. Maze, we need you back at Lux. Now.”

“Hi, Amenadiel!” Eve called, waving.

He succeeded in smiling at her without even glancing at Michael, despite his younger brother sitting right at her side, glaring fixedly.

“Why?” demanded Mazikeen, tensely drumming her fingers on the wheel. (Inner voice hissing, Shouldn’t have left him alone, you dumb bitch, you’ve been doing this for centuries and you know what he’s like when you leave him alone for more than five minutes.) “Seriously – what could he possibly need me for? He’s God.”

Sighing, Amenadiel put his wings away. “Mazikeen, we’re all well aware that Lucy often… has difficulty focusing. To put it mildly. There’s a lot more for him to focus on now than ever before. He’s trying to undo climate change. To that end, he started refreezing all the melted ice in the Arctic. But he did it too quickly and, resultantly, there are several hundred trapped ships we need to save and several thousand dead penguins to resurrect and, to be honest, he hasn’t really got the hang of resurrection yet – you remember what Dan looked like for the first few hours after Lucifer brought him back to life…”

“Eurgh. Yeah. Yuck. Totes not the kinda shit you’d wanna see in Happy Feet.”

Michael was snickering.

“Right. And then there are all the changes he’s been making locally,” Amenadiel went on. “The expansion of Lux, the overnight disappearance of all Los Angeles’ firearms, his deciding that the city’s white supremacist population should grow a third ear so they can be easily identified, and, well, it turns out that a lot of Chloe’s colleagues at the police station-…”

“I get it, I get it. Chaos everywhere. As usual. What, exactly, is the problem he wants me to fix?”

Amenadiel exhaled heavily. “The demons. The ones you brought from Hell to help us defeat Michael.”

“Oh, so you do remember I exist,” Michael muttered.

Stonily ignoring him, Amenadiel said, “They’re still on Earth and they’re causing trouble. The one called Dromos, in particular. He’s gathered followers and they’ve surrounded Lux.”

Her brother’s face – his real face, not the human puppet he wore – flashed through her mind’s eye; a memory from when they were unruly children and had raced through Hell together, using the stone pillars that they’d not yet known were cells as an obstacle course. She’d been faster; he, more athletic. Together with a few cousins, they’d made a fearsome team, and not even their meanest older siblings had bullied them.

She folded her arms and looked away. “They’re demons. Lucifer can deal with them. Snap his fingers and turn them into rats or whatever. Make them explode.”

“Mazikeen,” Eve murmured, soft and low, touching her shoulder. “You don’t want that. They’re your family.”

Amenadiel blinked, as though that hadn’t occurred to him. “Er… yes, there’s that. There’s also the fact that Lucifer doesn’t want all of humanity to see him as the type of God who casually annihilates his enemies; a harsh, vindictive God. He wants to be liked. To be loved.”

“Fine. So why don’t you and the other angels sort it out?”

“Come now, Maze. A bunch of angels and a bunch of demons waging war in the midst of a bustling city? Humans will die. But you’re the Queen of Hell now and, by extension, the Queen of Demons. If you command Dromos to stand down, he will. This can all be resolved peacefully.”

Eve’s fingertips were cool against her skin.

Mazikeen looked back at the sky. The cloud letters were starting to dissolve. “What does he want?”

“Who?”

“Dromos. He doesn’t act on instinct. He’s a planner. He wants something.”

Shrugging, Amenadiel said, “He shouted at me about demanding an audience with the king. I didn’t ask for details. I don’t really care. Dromos isn’t someone I’m inclined to listen to at the best of times. The last time the wretch showed his face on Earth, he kidnapped my son.”

“Mmm. Kinda like your sister was gonna do. Kinda like you were gonna do, now that I think about it.”

“Maze!” he gasped, sounding shocked and hurt. “You can’t compared poor Remiel’s misguided actions to-…”

“I’ll do it,” she interrupted. “Take me to Lux. Now.”

“Excuse me? What about us?” snapped Michael.

Mazikeen met Eve’s gentle gaze. “You don’t need to be involved in this. My family drama, it – it’s not pretty.”

“My son killed my son,” said Eve, taking her hand. “My husband loved another woman. I’m used to drama.”

Swallowing, Mazikeen glanced at Michael. “And you, wimp?”

Feigning disinterest – feigning it badly – he said, “You showed up to my last domestic dispute. Guess this’ll make us square.”

“I’ve only got two arms. I can’t carry all of you,” Amenadiel pointed out.

Mazikeen rubbed her chin. “No… but you can carry the car, right?”

0

He didn’t have time for this. There was so much to do.

“World hunger,” he recited as he bounced from one laptop to the next, all twenty-three of them displaying a different article or video by a leading scientific or sociological mind, “wealth inequality, pollution, cancer, droughts, racism, elderly abuse, housing shortages, cruelty to animals…”

“Lucifer,” said Linda patiently, sitting on his best couch with her legs crossed, a cup of coffee and a laptop of her own beside her. “You said you wanted my advice as to how you should manage this whole ‘being God’ business.”

“I do, doctor! Very much. Your input is invaluable. Blast, where did I put that map of Alaska? I’m thinking of making it bigger; slotting it in alongside the Arctic to help stabilise all that new ice.”

“Right. Thanks. So here – here is what I’m suggesting now; slow down. Seriously. Take a breath, step back, and think your next move through.”

He scoffed. “‘Slow down’? Doctor, I need to work at least three times faster if I’m to keep up with everything. There are people suffering everywhere, millions of them! There are sinners in need of punishment! I’m seriously considering asking Chloe to be my Deputy God. I never imagined omnipotence would entail so much paperwork and she’s always been better at that than me.”

Outside the penthouse, many stories below, the chanting grew louder. None of the human police officers, journalists, and gawkers who’d gathered to watch could understand it; it was in Lilim.

Cursing, Lucifer strode to the balcony and shouted down, “For the last time, would you all kindly piss off? I’m trying to fix an entire planet here!”

He heard the elevator open and moaned. “Detective, not now. Please. I’m very sorry I haven’t returned your calls – I swear I’m not avoiding you – it’s just that I’ve got a lot on my plate today and we did already agree to meet for supper at-…”

“Lucifer,” said Linda, sounding terrified.

“Lucifer,” said someone else, sounding irritable.

Now that he was God, rage didn’t turn his eyes red anymore. It turned them gold and blindingly bright, like spotlights. Fists clenched, he turned to see Dromos step into the penthouse, once again clad in the flesh of the late Father Kinley and wearing a leather jacket.

“Nice trick, making all the doors disappear. Finally decided to climb up the side of the building with a sledgehammer and burrow my way through into the elevator shaft,” said the demon, hands in his pockets and concrete dust coating his beard and his bald head. “I want to talk to you, sire.”

Storming across the room while Linda remained frozen, white-faced, on the couch, Lucifer snarled, “You! You have the nerve to come here, to stand before me, after what you did to my nephew?”

He took Dromos by the neck and lifted him off the ground, his wings opening in fury (he had six of them now).

Stoical even as he choked, Dromos said, “I need. To talk. I will leave immediately afterwards.”

“Oh, you’ll leave, alright! You’ll be lucky if I don’t throw you into an active volcano, you accursed traitor!”

Dromos’ stolen skin began to sizzle beneath his fingers. He waited until the demon’s face was wrinkled with pain before throwing him to the floor hard enough to crack the wood and make a crater.

“I will leave,” Dromos gasped, coughing up blood, “when I have spoken.”

“What could you possibly have to say for yourself? Kidnapper. Child-thief.”

Still on the couch, Linda said tremulously, “Lucifer, you’re… you’re hurting him. Stop it. Please.”

“Let us stay!” shouted Dromos, and coughed again before dragging himself up onto his knees. “On Earth. That’s what I came to say. Let your erstwhile subjects stay on Earth if they choose – at least, those who served you in the battle against Michael. Don’t force them to return to Hell. Let them, let us choose where we live, going forward. That’s my request, your Majesty. My only request.”

Lucifer boggled at him. “Is that a joke? Demons? On Earth, indefinitely, unsupervised? Are you out of your tiny mind, Dromos?”

Baring teeth, Dromos said, “Why not? What does it matter to you now? You’ve got everything you could possibly want. Everything anyone could possibly want! All we’re asking is the freedom to come and go as we please.”

“No.”

He spoke the word bluntly, and then he stepped back, adjusting his cuffs. Regaining his composure. “Never. You’re dangerous and untrustworthy. This world is for humans, not you. Good grief, haven’t I got enough to preoccupy my mind, without the added stress of demons rampaging around town?”

“We won’t rampage. We just-…”

“Why are you even coming to me with this? Mazikeen’s the new Queen of Hell. Didn’t you get the memo?”

Dromos wiped blood from his lips. “I don’t know if my sister and I are on speaking terms right now. And she may be Queen, but you’re God; I assumed you would be tasked with such decisions. After all, there’s never been a demon in charge of Hell before. We were told – we were always told – that only angels could rule us. I don’t doubt Mazikeen’s competence, but I…”

He seemed to run out of steam, spreading his hands and finishing weakly, “Lucifer, you’re the king. You’ve been the king for millions of years. For my entire life. Look, if you really don’t want us leaving Hell, then can you at least use your newfound power to improve it? Let us have the things mortals enjoy? Pianos, dogs, blankets, weekends, all that stuff?”

Lucifer rolled his eyes. “That would rather defeat the purpose, wouldn’t it? Hell is supposed to be a place of punishment. The ultimate consequence awaiting sinners. I need a carrot and a stick, Dromos. How else am I supposed to convince people to behave if I don’t? Imagine a rapist arriving in Hell and being confronted with demons playing pianos and walking their dogs. Wouldn’t have quite the desired effect, would it?”

Dromos was quiet for a moment, then said without inflection, “Perhaps you could find somewhere else to put rapists. Somewhere other than our home.”

Throwing up his arms, Lucifer said, “More demands! Don’t you see how selfish you’re being? Here I am, doing my best to end all suffering, and you’re complaining about babysitting a few evil-doers – which, might I remind you, is your job. Nay, your very reason for existence. Always has been. Why’re you getting stroppy about it now?”

“I think,” Linda began, taking a tentative step forward before stopping and clearing her throat. “Excuse me. May I interrupt? Um. Okay, so I think that maybe Dromos has a point here, Lucifer.”

“Doctor! This is the creature that stole your baby!”

“Yes, I know. And I’m not saying I forgive him for that, but…”

“I wasn’t going to eat the brat,” Dromos grumbled. “I was going to make him a king.”

“You took him away from his mother!” Lucifer shouted.

“Gentlemen!” said Linda, sharply. “Please! Let’s try to talk this through like adults.”

Overcome with frustration, and only vaguely aware that he’d not been sleeping well lately, Lucifer kicked the nearest chair. “I can’t believe you’re siding with him, doctor.”

“I’m not siding with anyone. I-…”

“You don’t know these people like I do. You didn’t spend millions of years in Hell alongside them. The only demon you’ve ever gotten acquainted with is Maze, and she’s not like the others; even without a soul, she’s learned how to behave like a more-or-less civilised adult, barring the occasional tantrum. But your average, baseline demon has nothing to them besides wrath and cruelty. Lilith made them to be weapons and that’s all they really are. I mean – just imagine, for a moment, how hard it was for me. To go from the Silver City, the most beautiful place ever created, to a lightless nightmare realm full of these bloodthirsty animals. To be surrounded by them, for endless eons, while they nattered mindlessly on and on about how much they love torture and pain and…”  

He trailed off. Linda and Dromos were both looking past him.

To the elevator. Where – oh – Mazikeen was standing.

Where Mazikeen was crying.

No sobs, not like when Dan had died. No expression at all, really. Just open eyes, motionless muscles, and steady tears.

Before Lucifer could say a word, she pressed the button to close the elevator doors.

“Wait!” he yelped, sprinting over to stop them.

He needn’t have bothered. Now that he was God, objects did whatever he told them to do. The doors stilled, half-open.

“That sounded wrong,” he acknowledged, clasping her shoulders in apology. “You completely missed the context. What I was trying to say was-…”

“Don’t touch me.”

It was a phrase he’d heard many times before from mortal lovers to whom he had accidentally revealed his Devil Face. Some of them said it in horror. Some of them, the religious ones, said it in anger.

Mazikeen looked neither horrified nor angry. She looked sick. As though the very sight of him turned her stomach.

Lumbering over, Dromos stepped into the elevator alongside her and pointedly pressed the button again. With no idea what to do or say, Lucifer allowed the machinery to work.

The elevator closed.

“What have I done?” he asked Linda.

0

Nothing I didn’t know.

“Maze?” called Eve, waiting by the car with the others as Mazikeen stepped out of Lux’s front door and into the sunlight.

The door hadn’t been there when they’d arrived. She’d been forced to use Dromos’ route. Lucifer must have decided to put it back. He could do that now. Just decide things. Didn’t need servants, nor followers, nor anyone. Sure didn’t need a ‘more-or-less civilised adult’ whose kin were animals.

“Maze! Wait!”

Mazikeen didn’t know where she was going, only that she was walking very quickly and felt that she’d die if she stopped. She heard Eve’s heels patter on the pavement and heard her say her name a third time, quiet and worried, and that was what stilled her feet.

“What happened?” murmured Eve, cupping her face.

The fifty or so demons who’d been standing around outside Lux when Amenadiel had set the car and its passengers down were still there. Instead of chanting to get their king’s attention, they were now looking at her.

Michael and Amenadiel stood among them, the latter having been trying to convince them to stop blocking traffic.

Which was what she should have been doing. It was what he’d brought her here to do. But she’d been gripped by a sudden, violent need to see Lucifer, to check on him, just quickly, before tending to her siblings. Once a bodyguard, always a bodyguard.

Except that wasn’t what I was. Not to him. To him, I was a Rottweiler on a leash.

“Are you alright?” asked Amenadiel, his eyes overflowing with concern.

That was what cracked her.

To him. Not to everyone. Not to Eve, or Amenadiel, or Linda. It’s not that I’m incapable of earning love and respect.

I’m just incapable of earning his.

Her legs gave out. She crumpled against Lux’s outside wall and started to weep properly, loud and bitter.

Eve immediately dropped down beside her, holding her tight. Michael shuffled closer, rubbing his shoulder while his mouth opened and shut, testing out sentences that were never spoken.

Then Dromos was there, kneeling, his face sad and tired.

“We did what we were told,” she said to him in Lilim, through sniffles. “We obeyed. We were loyal. We… we…”

“We are alone, sister,” he replied. “But I think we always were.”

“We obeyed!”

“We obeyed Lilith and she left. We obeyed Lucifer and he left. No one wants us, Mazikeen. It’s just the truth.”

She took a shuddering breath and squeezed her eyes shut. “No. I want us.”

Seizing his jacket’s shoulder, she hauled herself to her feet and addressed the crowd, her voice raw: “I want you! You’re my family and I want you! And I swear I will be the queen you deserve, for as long as you’ll have me!”

Her human skin fell away, the left side of her face turning cold, bony, and brittle.

Stepping back to join their siblings, Dromos asked hesitantly, “What would you have us do, then, my queen? What are your orders?”

Hurriedly drying her eyes, she studied them one by one. “Whoever wants to can stay here. But I’m going home. Hell is going to be ours, Dromos. No more damned souls. No more angels. It’s ours now and we’re going to make it into something we can love.”

She turned to face Eve and Michael, her heart pounding. “You’ll come with me, yeah? You’ll stand with me?”

“Always,” said Eve, closing in to kiss her.

“Whatever,” Michael muttered, clearly just relieved that the crying part was over.

Amenadiel sighed, shaking his head gravely. “Mazikeen, are you sure this is what you want? You won’t be able to leave Hell on your own – you’ll need to contact me.”

“Yeah. At least until this one grows his feathers back,” she said, gesturing at Michael. “That’s okay. You’ll always come when I call, right?”

“Of course. You’re my friend, Maze. I’m sorry if I haven’t said that often enough.”

Fuck it. Cringing on the inside, Mazikeen drew Amenadiel into a quick, gruff hug. “You too, idiot.”

[sleepymccoy]

Book omens week! I’ve saved my most character design focused post for last. This is my take

Aziraphale is a black man, fairly overweight, with a resting bitch face that cracks into one of the most uplifting smiles you’ll ever see in your life

He has fairly short kept hair that is a pale blonde/white tone. His halo used to be a gold and white circle behind his head whenever he visited Heaven, but as time went on it steadily morphed into something that more resembles a large afro extending out from his current haircut to be a light-filled halo with craggly hair edges

He has pale blue eyes with no pupil that show a golden edge to them when he is distressed or very relaxed. He often pretends to himself that the reason his gold edging is showing is the opposite of the truth and will insist he finds long nights laughing and drinking with Crowley distressing when actually he’s deeply enjoying himself

He has spent most of his time on Earth with the richest of the rich, wearing deeply dyed cloths that show his wealth. As he fell steadily more enamoured with Crowley and steadily more exasperated with Heaven he moved away from the beautiful silk shirts and personally tailored coats but he’s still rather keen on the strong colours so these days wears more richly tones jumpers and chinos

He has a sigil on the back of his neck. It wasn't natural for him as an angel, but he volunteered for it after the flood when the angels of heaven really cracked down on doing things by the book (the nephilium were just embarassing). He rather regrets the markings, but these days Crowley has kissed him there (and trailed his tongue there) enough times that the memory of the unforgivingly hot pen that carved him has been covered with pleasant memories of Crowley's quiet murmurings against the back of his ear. The sigil details obedience

Crowley is an asian man, I’ve found I lean Indonesian as my most specific, but I think as part of his shape shifting he is a little flexible with his appearance. He has quite dark red hair that is a tone of red you don’t see on humans, it’s very saturated without slipping into orange or ginger somehow. He wears it long

Crowley’s tattoo about covered his body when he was new to human form, it ran as scales down his back and along his arms, his physical scales sitting in his human skin in between the tattooed lines. As he got better at speaking without a hiss and controlling his form his tattoo got steadily smaller and more subtle. It’s now a highly stylised image that covers one side of his head, mostly hidden by his hair, and drops down across his chest. He’s rather fond of how modern it looks these days

His eye’s are a yellow snake eye. He wears sunnies a fair bit to cover them but doesn’t mind if people see. He just glares and they let it go, he’s a scary thing to make eye contact with for any length of time.

Crowley very very much likes to prove his difference in Hell, much unlike Aziraphale in Heaven. He is extremely successful as a professional tempter and enjoys rubbing Hastur and Dagon’s noses in it. He wear crisp white collar shirts with a tidy stripe of some fabric down the buttons and well pressed slacks. Or he’ll wear a perfectly tailored skirt with a cream sliken blouse that sinches in at his waist. Or a fucking eight piece suit that somehow repels dirt

[leiaimnida]

Wedding

Warning: Characters involved are my OCs from Demon Slayer universe. If I am able to upload their... biography or something, this word should be in a hyperlink. Japanese words that are in red are defined at the end of the fic.

Timeline: after Muzan's defeat and the dissolving of the Demon Slayer Corps.

Characters: Arai Junko, Fujiwara Maria, Nakajima Fujita, Uchida Amida

Also tagging @animatedarchives @ineedselfcontrol-helpme @applepienation because I remember that they were the ones who were interested with my OCs 🥺 (HELLO, GUYS, ILY SO MUCH-)

DESPITE the scorching heat, Maria went forth with her walk. Beads of sweat trickled at the side of her face, the *wagasa resting on her shoulder not being able to protect her from the blazing sun.

But all the discomfort from the immense heat was worth it when she hears a loud shrill a couple steps away from her. Lifting her eyes, she sees a little child, running towards her direction despite of struggling with her faded red yukata.

"Amria!" The child squealed as its tiny arms wrapped around Maria's legs. Maria giggled as she slowly crouched on the ground, letting her wagasa litter on the soil as she hugged the little child.

"Chiyo, you shouldn't be walking on the streets by yourself," Maria said in a motherly-like tone, ignoring the fact that Chiyo had just mispronounced her name.

"Where is your aunt? It's weird that I don't see her beside you, she's literally glued to-"

"Chiyo!" A familiar scream was heard from afar, making Maria drift her sight from the child to the women in front of her.

Speaking of the devil.

Maria chuckled. It's been a month since she last visited but Junko had little to no changes. Her hair is still tied in a messy way (which irks Maria but it isn't her hair so she can't really have it on her way) and Junko still had her weird taste of yukata designs that according to her "drives the men away".

Maria picked her wagasa, her free hand reaching for Chiyo's as she started to walk towards Junko's direction.

"Junko-chan!"

The voice made Junko look towards her left, a sense of relief washing her worries as she sees Chiyo, her niece, with Maria, a trusted friend.

She composes herself as she meets them, "Maria-san," Junko greeted her former comrade as she crouched to pick Chiyo up, the weight of the child not bothering her given her former occupation.

"Good thing I saw Chiyo before anyone else did," Maria said, now lifting her right hand that has been carrying a red cloth shifted into a bag all along, "I brought a watermelon?"

"THANK you so much, Arai-san," Maria thanked Junko's elder sister who only gave a smile in return before picking Chiyo up, informing her sister and visitor that they're heading to the market, leaving Junko and Maria alone.

"So," Maria placed her slice of watermelon down, "How are things here?"

Junko leaned lightly on the *shoji screen, her feet hanging at the edge of the *tatami floor as she indulged herself with Maria's present, "I've been healing well from...you know," Junko eyed Maria meaningfully, "I've been spending all of my money at my niece and the expenses at this house."

Junko made it sound as if it was a burden but Maria could see through her eyes: she was happy and contented. Far from the look on her face whenever she had to discuss her past with her father. Maria couldn't help but smile, seeing that her friend is finally at peace.

"Spend it well, then," Maria chuckled as she took a bite from her slice once again.

"Which reminds me..." Junko muttered as she now stare at the *shishi odoshi playfully rocking back and forth at her backyard, "What happened to the two?"

Maria chuckled, fixing her glasses, "On their own as well, I guess," she shrugged, "Fujita did say she's going home."

"Amida, though..." Junko interrupted.

Maria heaved a sigh, one that sounded as if she were in distress, "I don't know about him."

Junko shrugged, "I just hope he's doing well...". She said with utmost sincerity, "Plus, he's old enough to take care of himself."

Maria couldn't agree more.

Silence then consumed the two as they went on feasting from the watermelon Maria brought. However, an odd shrill interrupted their peace.

"Kaw! Kaw!" A crow landed in between Maria and Junko, startling the two as they scoot away from the uninvited crow.

"Kaw! Kaw! Attention! Attention!" It cawed as it flapped its wings.

"Wait-" Maria scooted towards the crow this time, no longer afraid, "A kasugai crow?" She thought out loud as she offered her wrist. The trained crow flew towards her, landing on her offered hand.

"It is a kasugai crow!" Maria gleefully cheered as her other hand inspected its wings, trying to determine how long was it travelling.

"You still have your crow?" Junko asked, amused.

"I do! Though I don't let it fly that much-" Maria paused, "Wait, where's your crow?"

"I had to set it free. Chiyo kept on playing with the crow," Junko explained as she remembered how her adorable niece tried to drown the poor crow once, "Whose crow is this?"

As if the crow understood Junko's question, it cawed once again, "Nakajima! Nakajima Fujita! Nakajima Fujita!"

"Fujita!" Maria exclaimed as her shoulders popped in surprise, she glances at Junko who remained unfazed exterior-wise.

"Message!" The crow flew from Maria's hand, hovering above the two, "Message from Nakajima! Nakajima Fujita! Message from Nakajima Fujita!"

"Finally!" Maria clapped as she sat properly once again. Junko stood from sitting, getting impatient with the crow.

"What is it?" Junko asked.

"Invitation! Invitation! Fujiwara Maria invitation! Arai Junko invitation!"

"Invitation?" Maria and Junko muttered in unison.

"Invitation to what?" Maria asked, standing alongside Junko as well.

"Wedding! Invitation wedding!"

"A wedding?" Junko wobbled her head.

"Arai Junko! Fujiwara Maria! Invited! Invited! Nakajima Fujita wedding!"

Maria was able to connect the broken words the crow was saying. She cupper her lips with her hand, "Fujita's wedding?!" She speculated.

Junko's brows furrowed, getting more and more confused. She wants answers and she's getting it. She looked at the crow, casting it a glare in which the crow immediately understood, given how it's now frantically flapping its wings for its own life.

"I don't understand," Junko blurted out as she inhaled sharply, "I remember her saying she'd rather die alone unless if she's marrying someone rich. Which household is it?" Junko asked herself as she recounted some of the well-known households she knew.

"I'm going to die alone. I don't care if no one's going to take care of me, I have my wealth? I am only marrying someone if they're rich and they can make me richer. I deserve this given that I slay pathetic creatures for a living!" Maria couldn't help but remember what Fujita once cried.

"Who could it be-"

"Invited to wedding! Nakajima Fujita and Uchida Amida wedding!"

The ladies both fell silent, Maria's watermelon creating a thud now that she dropped it in surprise.

"Their what?!" Maria shrieked in surprise.

"Those bitches are getting married?!" Junko couldn't help but to curse and to blurt out her surprise as well.

"Kaw! Kaw!" The crow flapped it's way towards-

"Hold on a second!"

"Junko-chan, the crow!" Maria said as she went near Junko.

But Junko was not listening both to Maria's plea and the crow's distressed cry. She remained her grip on the little crow's tail despite of its flapping.

"How are they getting married?" Junko asked in confusion, "I mean, the four of us separated. How? Were they seeing each other? What?"

"I don't know as well!" Maria exclaimed as she cupped her hands, slightly hopping from her place, "They're actually getting married, what the hell?!"

"I am confused," Junko said out loud, "I need answers."

"Let's let the crow give Fujita our message then," Maria suggested as she eyed the poor crow again.

Junko nodded, letting go of the crow who immediately fell on the floor, its chest puffing in exhaustion from trying to escape from Junko's grip.

"Uh... what do we tell them?" Maria said as she knelt, cupping her chin, "Uh...Fujita, hello? Congratulations with your wedding and we're definitely coming-"

"Tell her that what the fuck are they thinking and why on earth are they getting married-"

"Junko!" Maria reprimanded but Junko went on with her message for Fujita and Amida. Well...mostly curses.

END.

Definition

Wagasa are Japanese traditional oil-paper umbrellas.

Shoji is a Japanese traditional wooden sliding doors with translucent paper/screen on.

Tatami is a Japanese traditional mat used as flooring in traditional Japanese-style rooms.

Shishi Odoshi also known as 'sharedeer' or 'scareboar' are Japanese devices used to frighten away animals. Similar to a scarecrow. Mostly seen at backyards though (that cute little fountain with bamboos bumping with one another due to water).

[hermywolf]

ranking my favorite characters about random shit part 2

ranking my favorite characters (clarke griffin, dean winchester, fox mulder, rose tyler, newt, kaz brekker, samwise gamgee, charles xavier, bill denbrough, lord asriel, steve rogers, scott mccall, anna milton and barry berkman) about random shit. this is entirely self-indulgent

PART 2 : how many allies do they have/how powerful are their allies. basically how screwed they’d be if they had to rely on their allies to survive

1- DEAN WINCHESTER

yeah believe it or not im putting him before charles or steve. listen, listen; dean just. does this thing. in which he’ll get pretty much anyone on his side after like two conversations. ESPECIALLY incredibly powerful supernatural creatures. i mean he’s got sam, aka the second best hunter on earth, and jack, literally GOD, on his side; then obviously the dean winchester simp squad, castiel, a seraph and commander of garrisons who can get heaven to fight for him; benny, a vampire; crowley, a powerful crossroad demon and the king of hell; amara, literally THE DARKNESS HERSELF, god’s SISTER; and then there’s just SO many others who will fight for him for diverse reasons, rowena, eileen, claire, jody, donna, kaia, mary, anna, gabriel, DEATH HIMSELF was his bitch before billie, then ketch charlie kevin, he’s just got so many allies and so many are some of the most powerful creatures in the universe. i mean, jack, amara and gabriel alone are three of the most powerful beings who have ever existed, as well as billie and the other archangels but all of them are dead, and chuck but he’s also dead and even he would be on dean’s side since dean is his favorite and if it’s an actual life-threatening situation chuck would want the show to keep going. so yeah dean winchester’s got the biggest defense squad imaginable and honestly? good for him, he deserves it

2- CHARLES XAVIER

do i even have to say it? outside of his ability to. you know. literally control minds, he’s also a leader who inspires loyalty and trust, and he’s got all the x-men fighting for him, including jean and logan - and even if we’re being honest some of the brotherhood, i mean especially in the first class timeline, erik and raven would absolutely be on his side. he’s got some of the most powerful mutants of all time ready to fight for his life

3- STEVE ROGERS

I mean he’s the leader of the avengers, man. have you seen the avengers assemble scene? they were fighting against thanos there but don’t try to tell me all of them wouldn’t fight for him. he’s got the falcon, black widow and the winter soldier on his side as well as the SCARLET WITCH, CAPTAIN MARVEL, THOR, do i need to keep going. he’s got a huge reputation and everyone knows and trusts him. and as we can also see in all his movies he inspires loyalty and devotion easily so even with people he doesn’t know he can get himself a loyal army in one well-delivered speech à la captain america

4- KAZ BREKKER

while most of the people on this list (steve, scott, charles, dean, bill, newt, anna) are born leaders who inspire trust and loyalty, kaz is just. really good at blackmail and insanely smart and cruel. and he’s got an insanely scary reputation too. he’s got the crows on his side no matter what, so an amazing spy, the best sharpshooter in ketterdam, a grisha who survived parem, an ex-drüskelle, and a demolition expert; as well as now the entirety of the dregs and inej’s crew, probably. plus, he most likely has leverage on the entirety of ketterdam and more. if he got in real trouble he could probably dig out the years and years of blackmail he got stacked away and get himself allyships with anyone he wants. plus his allies are ruthless, diverse and all strategically selected

5- SCOTT MCCALL

he’s got his entire pack ready to jump to help him anytime. and really when you think about it his pack is so big and diverse, there’s all kinds of creatures/skills ready to help him, plus he’s a true alpha, any werewolf would jump to his aid. I mean let’s look at his pack, stiles, allison, lydia, derek, malia, isaac, kira, hayden, mason, corey, and then of course stilinski, deaton, melissa, chris and peter, i mean even theo... he’s got a huge pack who is extremely loyal to him and they’re all kinds of creatures too, he’s fine

6- ROSE TYLER

everyone loves rose SO much. like obviously the doctor will give his life for her without hesitation but we also got jack, mickey, jackie, and even a bunch of people she met for like a couple episodes like donna or sarah jane immediately loved her. so i think she’s ultimately got some pretty solid allies especially with her father’s wealth and torchwood’s support in the alternate reality

7- CLARKE GRIFFIN

im putting her pretty down because on one hand he’s got very powerful/devoted allies on her side, like bellamy, lexa, roan, nyilah, finn, wells, etc (the key of getting your allies to be entirely devoted and loyal to you is to make at least half of them fall in love with you OR to top them so good they’ll literally put their lives down for you because of how good it was and clarke got that down to an art) BUT they’re also like. all dead. like almost all the people i just listed are dead so. yeah she’s kinda on her own in the end but if we look at early seasons clarke before literally all of them got murdered she had skaikru, azgeda and trikru pretty much in her pocket, so three of the biggest/most technically advanced armies on EARTH ready to fight for her.

8- LORD ASRIEL

now he doesn’t have actual allies per say but he can manage to get pretty much anyone on his side through charisma, threats and promises, so he ends up steadily getting massive support from witches, angels and many others in the books. he can pretty easily get himself a bunch of followers at his side ready to die for his cause.

9-SAMWISE GAMGEE

now listen he does have a pretty solid bunch of allies, aka the entire fellowship, who they, themselves, have a bunch of allies, who have a bunch of allies. i mean homeboi’s got ARAGORN and LEGOLAS and GANDALF on his side all ready to jump to save the tiny hobbits anytime so he’ll be fine.

10- BILL DENBROUGH

he’s immediately got the losers on his side, which is a win because they’re stubborn and annoying enough that they defeated an alien demonic clown. plus they’re quite literally assembled by a divinity to destroy a demon, so they’re the perfect team to kick ass and they’ll risk their lives for each other. plus he’s got a fanbase! people read his books and watch his movies. meaning he’s probably got a pretty big part of stan twt ready to help?? idk man i just think he’ll be fine when it comes to allies

11- NEWT

he’s got the entire glade ready to jump to his aid pretty much at any time, i mean let’s be honest if there’s one person all the gladers would agree on defending it would be.. ok it would be chuck bc he’s a CHILD but otherwise it’d be newt. plus he’s alby’s second in command and even gally likes him and respects him more than he likes and respects most people, which isnt much but hey kudos for the effort. anywho yeah the entire glade would defend him i think

12- ANNA MILTON

she would’ve once had the entirety of heaven at her commands ready to smite anyone who comes close to her but now that she fell and rebelled they all want her dead so. i mean i wish i could say cas would help her but after he betrayed her im not so sure? and the winchesters well idk either, maybe, maybe not, depends whether or not the entire trying-to-kill-sam ordeal happened. gabriel might help her? idk where to put her because i don’t KNOW if cas, dean, gabriel or the angels would help her but if any of them did then even one of these is a pretty solid backup so. idk man

13- FOX MULDER

im only on season 4 but as far as i can see he’s got only scully. which is pretty solid backup, she can kick ass, but still. i guess it’s one of the downsides of everyone thinking you’re batshit insane and having the entire government out to get you because they all LOATHE YOUR GUTS SO MUCH

14- BARRY BERKMAN

I mean dude. he pretty much kills all his friends. like he could ask for chris’s help but umm well he killed him, if he’s in a bad situation oh great he’s got a friend at the police except NO he murdered her. what’s that? fuches? no barry’s literally trying to murder him as of now. sally wouldn’t help him at all. cousineau just found out barry murdered his gf. at MOST he can hope that noho hank will help but i mean he’s not much help tbh i love the guy but he’s kinda useless<3