#Arch-Seraph

[call-me-shadowborn]

My Arkt drawingof last year - this one is from one of Azuriel's spooky dreams. I'd like to emphasize his 'mentoring' role for Azuriel by appearing in visions and dreams for the Shadowborn. (As it was hinted in an Enderal book "A strange friend'.) And when the circumstances require more definite interference than dreams - in those occasions he appears as a different person (illusion disguise) to nudge the things into the direction at will... Let's be clear, he is not really the person of straightforwardness and clear instructions in the beginning, (which Az doesn't really like and struggles to get accustomed to) although he obviously had his own reasons. (Proof testing).

[ranuunculus]

january 2022

[wazzi2ya]

[commanderfloppy]

What? Me drawing a trending thing WHILE it is trending and not 2 months later???

When you're in the Whispers and have to snoop around in the places of higher ups, getting arrested is par for the course.

Tybalt is not looking forward to having to get bailed out by the Preceptors, Tori is used to this.

[zaahvi]

i’m sorry WHO

[chris-prank]

Ya i need to punish Dr. Seraph for ruining my plans/ripping my hero suit. Clothes are very expensive these days :(

So we tear his off and pound into him :3 !! ^^ ❤️❤️💯💯😍😍🔥🔥

Sub Yandere villain sidekick x Top GN hero reader

CW: NSFW, doggy style, top reader and slight teasing

So I got carried away and ended up writing around 1K words of smut…

Just like last time the reader is GN, it’s vague enough so you can choose if the reader has a dick or a strap-on.

･*:.｡..｡.:*･*:.｡..｡.:*･

“Do you know how much it costs to make a superhero suit? And don’t even get me started on the anonymous fees!”

Real frustration could be heard in your voice as the unpleasant memories of dealing with your supplier came to mind. But you swiftly chased them away to focus back on the man tied up under you.

“I’m s-sorry, if I k-knew I would ha—”

You placed your finger on his lips, shutting him up immediately.

“I don’t want shallow excuses or explanations, I want you to repay me properly.”

Dr. Seraph looked up at you with confusion. He knew what your intentions were, you had made them abundantly clear, yet he couldn’t connect the dots. How is him being tied up with bondage tape directly related to destroying your suits? Furthermore, he was wondering why you even had bondage tape in the first place! The mad scientist wasn’t complaining of course, but it’s not like it was efficient to apprehend criminals in any way, except…

You must have brought it with you just for this specific outcome! That’s it! You had planned on taking him for yourself! Oh, how quickly he convinced himself this was the truth and how flattered he was about it. And no matter how insane this conclusion was, he was indeed right.

He waited for you to take your finger off him to ask for clarification, but before he could open his mouth you effortlessly flipped him on his stomach, making the man yelp. You weren’t finished as you grabbed his hips, pressing his backside against your pelvis. That was enough to make this genius's brain go blank. He was already turned on by the predicament he had found himself in, but now a primitive desire had taken over any sense of logic he still possessed.

“Since you seem to love ruining my superhero suits, I think it's time for me to do the same with your uniform. That's the only punishment I’ll accept.” You caress his waist back and forth before adding, “I’m sure you’re fine with that, right?”

“Mm..y-yes.” He responded with a feeble voice.

You smiled to yourself, happy that he was so responsive. You took a handful of the fabric in your fist and pulled. His pants ripped apart like paper, making you feel like you were unwrapping a birthday gift. You tore until every inch of his private parts was exposed. The man gasped at this vulgar sight and buried his head back into the pillow.

You, on the contrary, admired your work. In this position, Vincent had the most perfect arched back and his ruined pants gave him a particular disheveled look. Soon enough, you had taken off your suit from the waist down, tossing it to the side without a care. A rush of excitement came to you when you felt Dr. Seraph pressing himself against your groin while letting out subtle whimpers.

You grope both of his ass cheeks as a response, before spreading them apart. With precise movements, you poured lubricant on top of it and prevented it from leaking all the way down by spreading it on his asshole. You stopped and instead rubbed your tip against his entrance to make it wet as well. After you were done, It was slightly glistening in the dim light of the room. By now, his noises had gotten louder, his legs trembling in anticipation.

“Are you ready Vincent?”

Hearing you say his real name made his cock and hole twitch.

“P-please, p-put it in.” He whined, impatience filling his voice.

He had already put aside the fact that this was supposed to be a punishment. He didn’t care if you destroyed his clothes, he had other ones, but there was only one you. Hell, he would let you tear down his entire wardrobe if it meant he could be fucked by you every night.

You grab his hips with one hand, making sure he would stay up right, and you positioned yourself with the other to stuff him full. Vincent threw his head back and cried out a lewd moan as your cock disappeared in his ass. You weren’t even down to the base that he was already gripping the sheets, nails digging through it. You also noticed it had gone in easy, a bit too easy even considering the lub.

“Someone has been preparing himself for me.” You teased, sinking deeper inside him.

Blood shot directly to the man’s face and to his cock, much to his embarrassment. He was already rock-hard, but the simple fact of implying that he has been stretching his insides for you, almost made him cum on the spot.

“Nggf…I-I didn’t…A-aahh! Mng—”

“Oh but you’ve been fucking yourself at the thought of me, haven’t you?” One of your hands grabbed onto his dick, giving it a few strokes while you added, “don’t worry I’m not mad.”

Vincent tried to hold in a sob by biting down his lips, as the mix of both different kinds of pleasure assaulted his nervous system. Though, nothing could prevent the tears from rolling down his eyes and into his mouth while he tried to answer you, emphasis on “tried”.

“Y—Mngh…” He couldn’t finish his sentence, as he felt your pelvis against his butt, meaning ou were completely inside him.

You waited until the mess of a man had visibly relaxed, before pulling back and thrusting inside again with more speed. The sounds of flesh smacking together and Vincent’s moan filled your ears like a melody. The way you bucked against him without mercy was contrasted with your thumb gently rubbing his hips in a praise like gesture.

There was one thing that was bothering you, as you glared at the upper half of his body. You had rolled up his coat a little when you were massaging his waist earlier, yet it wasn’t enough. You took the base of his uniform and ripped it in half all the way to his neck, the roll of your hips never faltering. Satisfied, you bent down and kissed his newly bare shoulders.

“That’s much better, don’t you think?” You took the chance to nibble there too, “And now your outfit is ruined, just like all my suits.”

“Nnhg Uh-uhh.” Whines and moans, mixing together as Vincent wished to speak.

You smile against his skin, satisfied with this little punishment.

･*:.｡..｡.:*･*:.｡..｡.:*･

I tried to match your freak, so I hope you enjoyed it 💅🏻

(Oh and I can tell you that Dr. Seraph will have a lot of explaining to do the next day when he arrives in a wheelchair at a meeting.)

[pupsmailbox]

GOTH ID PACK

NAMES ⌇　abby. ace. addam. alister. amelia. amoret. ange. angel. angelo. anubis. arch. archette. ash. aslan. aspen. astor. astoria. astrophel. atticus. axelle. azazel. azrael. bael. bat. batsy. bella. bellatrix. blade. blair. blanchette. brahms. branwen. cain. callan. calliope. cannibelle. caskeite. casketta. caskette. caspian. celeste. celestia. chaos. charlotte. cherry. chira. chiraelle. chiro. chiroptairre. chiroptelle. chiropteranne. choir. christian. cofette. coffin. coffine. constantine. corbin. corpse. crimson. crow. crowley. damian. damien. demonesse. divina. dorian. draven. edgar. elatha. elijah. elix. elwin, elwin. elwood. ember. emmaline. etienne. evan. evangeline. eve. faith. forest. forrest. frill. frille. frilleine. frilliette. frilly. genesis. ghost. gothita. gothitelle. gothitess. gothitesse. grey. gwen. gypsy. hades. hawthorne. hecate. hemlock. imortalle. imortella. iris. israel. jakob. jet. jett. johnas. josiah. judas. kain. kane. kedi. keir. lacey. laciene. laciette. lazarus. leo. lilith. lilithe. lolita. lucid. lucien. lucifer. lucius. luscious. lynx. maeve. malice. mana. martyr. max. melancholy. merle. micah. michael. misery. mordred. morris. mors. morte. mortis. mourge. mourgette. myrette. nightshade. noah. noctre. nocturne. noir. obsidian. oleander. omen. onyx. orion. orpheus. ozul. ozzy. prince. prophet. raven. ravenie. raveniette. rook. rowan. ruby. saber. saint. salem. samael. samuel. scarlet. secrette. seraph. serenity. shilo. shiloh. silas. silver. silvester. skelly. skulliene. skulliette. skully. sorrow. sylvester. syn. thorn. thorne. tobias. tommy. trix. umbriel. valkyrie. valo. vervain. vesper. victoria. ville. violetta. vito. vlad. woundie. zeon. zephyrine.

PRONOUNS ⌇　abby/abby. ae/aer. ash/ash. bat/bat. bleed/bleed. blood/blood. book/book. bug/bug. burn/burn. chain/chain. chap/chapel. chill/chill. claw/claw. cloud/cloud. cob/cobweb. cof/coffin. coffin/coffin. corps/corpse. creep/creep. cri/cross. cro/cros. cross/cross. cross/crosse. da/dark. dae/dae. dae/daem. dark/dark. decay/decay. dee/dark. des/despair. devout/devout. div/divine. dust/dust. echo/echo. edge/edgy. en/envie. fae/fang. fang/fang. fe/fear. fie/fiend. fog/fog. fri/frill. frill/frill. ghost/ghost. ghoul/ghoul. gore/gore. goth/goth. goth/gothic. gra/grave. grave/grave. ha/haunt. halo/halo. hie/hiem. ho/holy. holy/holy. horn/horn. hx/hxm. hy/hym. ink/ink. lace/lace. lae/lace. lost/lost. mist/mist. moon/moon. net/fishnet. ni/night. night/night. null/null. par/parasol. parasol/parasol. pray/pray. pray/prayer. proph/prophet. ro/rose. rose/rose. rot/rot. rust/rust. sac/sacrifice. saint/saint. scar/scar. shx/hxr. shy/hyr. si/sinister. sin/sin. sku/skull. skull/skull. snake/snake. spider/spider. spike/spike. sto/storm. stud/stud. thou/thorn. thron/thorn. thxy/thxm. vae/vaer. ve/ver. velvet/velvet. vo/void. whis/whisper. whisper/whisper. witch/witch. wood/wood. x/x. xae/xaer. × . ♠️ . ♣️ . ⚰️ . ⛓️ . 🌑 . 💀 . 🕯 . 🕷 . 🕸 . 🖤 . 🥀 . 🦇 .

[sugarbcnes]

speaking of pussy drunk reader, how abt reader asking abby/ellie to sit in reader's face???

also reader making their eyes rolling back, thighs shaking, back arching, BODY SPASMING, by overstimulating them because reader obviously cant get enough of their pussy ohmygod

i'm sorry :((

ugh i love this

ellie x f! reader | warnings: switch ellie, overstim, profanity, use of “cunt” and “pussy”

being a top was ellie’s pride and joy. domming you? even better.

her hand wrapped around the small of your throat as she shoves her fingers knuckle-deep in your cunt, whispering sickly sweet praises into your ear to coax you over the edge until you’re squirting all over her green bedsheets. you always got your way, ellie’s little pillow princess. this is why ellie wasn’t surprised when she gave in to your distressed whines and pleads to eat her out as she tried to get up and go on patrol, frantically pawing at her black jeans. how she ended up on your face though, hands gripping her wooden headboard, she’ll never know.

“fuck,” she curses out. her green eyes are screwed shut as she grinds against your hot mouth, chasing yet another orgasm. your face is already slick with her juices, hungry eyes never leaving her face as your mouth works against her cunt.

your movements are sloppy now and you work her through her second orgasm, watching her defined abs taut and ripple as she tenses with the heat of pleasure pooling in her stomach. the pure sight of you below her, face glistening and eyes blown, is pure seraphic. an elysian she’d see in her dreams again that night as she subconsciously humps the pillow between her legs.

your hands massage the plush fat of her ass, savouring the feeling of her between your fingers. her moans and whimpers are obnoxious and she definitely knows jesse and dina can hear her from their room.

“so close, my girl,” she says between heavy gasps, breathing stuttered as her head falls between her chests with her chin against her chest, “love your fucking mouth, oh my god,”.

Your tongue flicks, grazing that familiar sweet spot in her that has her crying out, back arching as her hickey-covered thighs squeeze the sides of your face. her eyes roll back, lashes fluttering as her mind goes foggy and blank, absolutely weightless.

“holy fuck,” she breathes out, arms trembling and threatening to give way as she feels her cum drip down her gummy walls, clenching around the soft muscle of your tongue. you watch as her belly jumps slightly, the coil causing it to spasm as it snaps. milky nectar glistens over your face, dripping down your chin and neck as your face emerges from her heat. you looked heavenly, a saint drenched in the saccharine flow of her lover’s lust.

“no, baby,” her voice coarse, a slight chuckle leaving her lips, “i know you want more but i can’t.

your soft kisses on her clit have her hips jumping, pulling away from your face.

“no- ah- i cant,”.

you look up at her through dark lashes, doe eyes melting and glassing with tears at her rejection.

“okay, sweet girl” she stutters out and watches as your arms instantly wrap around her thighs, pulling her back down until your mouth is hot against her rosy, creamy-coated lips, “just one more.”

inbox/requests are open.

[heavenlyraindrops]

♱ Father Forgive Me (For I have Sinned) ~Chapter Twelve ♱

Lucifer Morningstar x Angel!Reader Fandom: Hazbin Hotel Chapter Twelve Warnings: profanity Click on the first tag to see all the other chapters

♱Where the purest soul in Heaven falls for the Devil♱

[Chapter Twelve]

You set your phone down on the counter as someone pounded hard on your front door. You flinched, immediately recognising the knocks.

You opened it, standing in the doorway and blocking the entrance before smiling thinly. “Adam. Lute. To what do I owe this displeasure?”

Adam arched an eyebrow. “Well someone’s gotten cocky,” he sneered, trying to brush past you. You put your foot in the way, making him stop and whirl around.

“The fuck’s your problem?” Lute snapped, storming forward. “Let us in.”

“Back off. You’re not coming inside until you tell me what you want.” You put your hand on her chest, pushing her back. She blanched, and looked at Adam helplessly.

Adam’s expression darkened as he leaned in to whisper. “Are you forgetting what I know?”

You bunched up his collar in your fist, dragging him in even closer. “There’s still one month left before I decide. You tell, I fall, and you’ll never fucking marry me.” You released him and he stumbled back a little, face hard, but you could tell you had frazzled him as you stood aside to let them in.

“Go in, then,” you said flatly. They both flashed triumphant smiles at you.

“Where’re the hellspawn?”

“Why?”

“We just wanna talk to them,” Adam said, smiling innocently as if he hadn’t been threatening you five seconds ago. His lips moved, mouthing more threats as if he had no shame in blackmailing someone.

“Upstairs,” you said reluctantly, then jabbed a finger in his direction. “And if you lay a hand on them…”

“Pinky promise,” came the reply, thrown over his shoulder as he sauntered up the stairs. Lute glanced back at you, her frown deepening.

You sat down at the kitchen counter, an internal debate raging within you. A letter lay on your right, next to your elbow. You wondered if you should have asked Charlie to deliver it to Lucifer for you, or not.

You sighed, shutting it away in a drawer.

♱♱♱

It had been hours since Charlie and Vaggie had left, shortly after Lute and Adam had stormed out. You’d waved them off, wishing them good luck. As you shook Charlie’s hand, your hand clamped around hers, pulling her in to whisper.

“Between you and me, love,” you muttered. “You’re more than just right in this.” You hesitated. “Tell Lu…” you mumbled the rest of the sentence, trailing off into a volume barely audible as you chickened out. She blinked at you, befuddled, before her lips stretched into another smile as she pulled you into a hug.

“Thank’s, [name],” she said. Vaggie nodded approvingly from behind her, before they both turned around and left.

You watched them fade into the distance, before stumbling back inside. You took the letter out of the drawer and crumpled it up, throwing it in the bin. You felt like you were about to throw up.

“Fuck,” you gasped.

♱♱♱

“Emily? How was the trial?”

You blinked down at the seraph, who gazed up at you solemnly. You could tell there were angry tears behind her eyes, threatening to spill out. “Tell me you didn’t know,” she said, voice trembling. You took her hand, pulling her inside and setting her at the couch.

“Didn’t know what?” You asked, gently and cautiously. At the same time, the door swung open again, and Adam barged in.

“Sugar tits, we fuckin’ won,” he cackled, grabbing your wrist. “I kicked those cunts back downstairs where they belong-“ he paused, eyes sliding over to Emily.

You gulped.

Emily stood up, hands bunched up into fists. “You did, didn’t you,” she hissed. You let out a small breath.

“Emily, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“She’s talking about the exterminations,” Adam rolled his eyes, slinging an arm around your shoulder with a hand on his hip as he stared Emily down. You stiffened, looking at him as if to say ‘what the hell did you do?’ But refrained yourself from saying anything aloud.

She blanched at the look on your face. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t anyone tell me?” She stretched her arms out wide, and her wings stretched with her. Your heart sank.

“No one is supposed to know about the exterminations except for the exorcists,” you said calmly as you could, despite a slight shake in your voice as you straightened up and pulled your shoulders back.

“You know, and you’re not an exorcist,” she retorted, eyes accusing. You stepped back.

“[name]’s special,” Adam sneered, looking at you. You couldn’t meet his stare.

“It’s for the greater good. Are you really questioning Sera’s judgment?”

Emily’s shoulders sank. “You don’t believe that,” she said, as if she was trying to convince herself instead of simply making a statement. You gulped.

Did you agree with the exterminations? You had never really thought about it. But if they hadn’t existed you never would have met-

“Emily, I don’t like them either,” you said, leaning forward and gripping her shoulders, desperation oozing from your like an aura. “But Heaven needs to keep the pure- the good souls, safe from the bad.” You felt a stab at your heart even as you said it, because saying those words made you feel like you were betraying Charlie and Vaggie, but you pressed on. “Emily, no one enjoys the exterminations.”

Adam scoffed from behind you, stalking forward and yanking you back. “Oh please, sugar tits.” He looked hard at Emily. “The exorcists love the extermination. It’s the perfect form of entertainment!” His eyes and grin widened, and you flinched away as his gaze snapped back to you again. “And don’t pretend like you’re against them, sugar. You wouldn’t have met your demon boyfriend if it weren’t for them.” His tone was lined with hurt, as if getting with Lucifer was the biggest betrayal you could have done to him.

And, you realized, in a way, it was.

“What?” Emily said, wondering if she had heard him right. You could feel your face heat up, your golden blood turning to fire in your veins.

“I said,” Adam clarified, “if it wasn’t for the exterminations, she’d be bored as fuck here.” Emily frowned, but you could tell she believed him. “What’d you think I said?” He didn’t wait for an answer, turning back to you. “Don’t act like you threw yourself at the chance to come along with us down to Hell.”

You chewed your lip furiously, mind racing. “Don’t you dare throw me under the bus.”

“Why fuckin’ shouldn’t I?” He hissed, eyes glittering darkly. You could sense the meaning underneath, cutting you like a double edged sword.

“You know what?” You said, flatly. “You’re just pissy that your dick is so fucking tiny, Like- opposite the size of your fatass ego, which is so big it’s fucking obese, by the way- that you lost three women to a guy who lives in a dimensional oven.” You jabbed your finger at him. “I’d rather date the Devil himself than a fucking cunt like you,” you scoffed. “At least he’d last more than thirty seconds.”

Emily stared at you blankly, amazed, not ever having heard you swear so much, and also by your blatant blasphemy. You pulled back, smoothing down your shirt, satisfied at Adam’s shocked expression. You glanced at her.

“I wouldn't actually,” you reassured her, lying straight through your teeth.

♱♱♱

A/N: first of my double chapter release. Two chapters in one day isn’t that crazy?!.?, turns out my 400th follower was my friend stalking me… they read all my smut. I’m cooked 😁 Coco if ur reading this… get off my blog rn

I’m giving up on the taglist cause it don’t work anymore sorry guys 😔

[internals1ut]

Tkdb boys moan sounds -

18+ / NSFW / Minors gtfo

I had this thought when I walked into Barnes and Nobles got more Yona Of The Dawn and Seraph of the End too

Anyways -

Whimpering

Kaito, Leo, Zenji

Loud moaner

Kaito, Lucas , Ren , Romeo(rough), Edward, Yuri

Soft moaning

Tohma, Haru, Romeo(soft), Subaru, Rui

Grunts

Jin, Sho, Mido, Haku, Lyca

Barely moans/grunts

Taiga, Towa

Doesn't moan and will stare into your soul

Towa, Jiro

Screams because he walked in on Rome riding Taiga in the office after he was trying to give legal documents to Taiga about firearms and their laws so he can help Taiga not go to court but walked in on him making Romeo arch his back and now he is bringing them to court for sex in the workplace - Ritsu

[historiaxvanserra]

I know I've been gone forever but I'm back and working on a forced proximity, political allies to lovers, arranged marriage, azriel x CoN reader fic that might grace your dashboard in the coming days...

sneak peak below

The narrow streets of Hewn City are rife with transgression; I hear the echo of it in the lurid shouts from the merchants and patrons. As they beg, barter and brawl in the slums in the rotten heart of the city. The fetor of petrichor and decay linger in the air. So putrid and palpable I can taste it; even through the bouquets of vervain and bitter almonds that shade the wheelhouse in their noxious musk. Throngs of beggar children chase the carriage as it rolls turbulently through the pools of waste upon the wet, cobbled stone. Though, I only catch fleeting glimpses of them each time the cruel, seraphic light cuts through the blanket of the dark inside the small carriage.  As I pass through the Streets of Silk, I hear the bawdy rhymes of the fallen women as they call out into the night like a siren song; all sultry-eyed and dressed in lace that billows in the wretched breeze like the tendrils of a monstrous chimera. Fated to lure wayward sailors to their watery tombs.   It is then that panels of the carriage yawn open to reveal a tavern. The building stands as one of the last unsanctioned pleasure halls in the city; its weary slate facade is cut from the same dark stone as the mountain that oppresses the city and the neglected roof tiles gleam in the pallid silver faelights, like moonlight on the murky-green depths of the Sidra. Above it's dark mahogany door, I observe the pillory that bears the establishment's name.  The Jade Pearl. Painted in varying gaudy shades of green and gold. The pleasure hall on the outer banks of the mountain city is alive with sordid activity. The whores in their fine silks twirl and dance in merry rings like water nymphs, and the serving girls fill up the cups of patrons with a sly smile. The high-arching melody of lyres cuts through the cacophony of carnal sounds; officious laughter, vulgar curses and the honeyed words, whispered into the skin of wind-beaten sailors and fat merchants.  Here, patrons and prostitutes alike, subject to their most base desires.  I adjust the hood that veils my face and retreat into the darkest parts of the tavern, nestled somewhere near the open hearth.  “Can I help you, mistress?”  I look up from my seat, across the emerald painted surface to the wraith standing before me. She’s a slender looking creature, with pale blue eyes that look almost silver in the dying light of the hearth. Her long, white hair is braided over her shoulder like the tendril of some mythical siren.  Dangerous and inviting.  “A drink and a warm meal perhaps,” She purrs, her voice low and sultry as she looks at me with those pale eyes, “or maybe you desire some company tonight?” She’s dressed in the gauzy, silk robes of a whore. The garment flows like water over the curve of her hip and with a deep slit in its middle that exposes the graceful swell of her breasts beneath. And through her guise of beauty and seduction, I see the chains that bind her. “A drink would be nice,” I say, sliding a gold coin across the polished surface of the table, “If it’s not too much trouble.” “It is not trouble at all, mistress- but this far too much coin.” The wraith begins to untether the cracked leather coin purse from her hip. She begins to exchange the gold for smaller coins of silver and bronze, counting them in her open palm.  “You should keep it -- I’ve no use for it anyway.” I say, nodding towards the coin in her hand. The wraith shakes her head and tries to protest but a call from the brutish looking owner, whose name I know to be Arik, draws the girl's attention away.  She voices her gratitude again before leaving me to my pitcher of ale.  The liquid is of a deep carnelian color that glimmers like burnished bronze in the dying light of the hearth. It is cloyingly sweet and viscous like honey and flavored with moonflowers and jasmine.  A voice, thick with mirth and malice, beckons my attention. 

[thehelloverlord]

(requested by . . @angeldollys ) overlord sent up from hell delievers . . Ribbon & Angel themed NPT's

NAMES : angie , ange , angel, pure , gabriel , gabriela , ariel , cherub¹ , ethereal , etherealess , etherealesse , angeli² , angelus² , seraphim³ , seraph³ , bow , ruffle , lace , lacie , ruban⁴ , dentelle⁵

another word for angel

latin word for angel

highest rank in angelology

french word for ribbon

french word for lace

PRNS : cher/cherbs . rib/ribbons . la/laces . lace/laces . angel/angels . bow/bows . sweet/sweets . dar/darlings . soft/softs . gra/graces . arch/angels . archangel/archangels . serap/seraphims .

TITLES : the one whom protects (with ribbon decor) , prn who grows beautiful wings , prnself loves ribbons on them (whilst protecting / while loving on another) , prn who loves the other (as much as they love ribbons), prn who possesses white wings, the one who has ribbons on.

[dragonanon]

can you do a chapter based on your Death!Reader and God!Brother hcs where Death wakes up from her sleep and goes to Heaven to check up on her brother's children and everyone is obviously terrified of her?

Hmmm…I’m not typically one to do requests because the urge to write is so sporadic and random for me. BUT I have been thinking about the initial confrontation in Heaven for a while now, so here are some head cannons for that. >w>

——

- It’s a typical perfect day in Heaven…Until it isn’t. Having seen what had become of your realm and learning Heaven was to blame for it, you’re on your way to rip someone a new asshole.

- Screams erupt from the Angels as the ground begins to shake and the bright sky darkens. Sera and Emily rush out just in time to join the Angels in watching in abject terror as a massive pool of darkness forms on the ground, and from it slowly rises a menacing figure.

- The figure is massive, and it only continues to rise until even the tallest building barely reaches its hips. Its six long horns twist and arch toward the sky, only making the figure appear even taller. Upon reaching its full height, the figure spreads its six mighty wings, each one sporting a menacingly sharp claw and all as shrouded in darkness as the rest of the figure.

- As its wings blot out the sun further, the figure opens its many blazing white eyes; two where you’d normally expect to see eyes, a third in the center of its forehead, and dozens more scattered across its wings and body.

- Sera lost all color as soon as she saw the figure rising, and somehow lost even MORE color when the figure opened all of its eyes. She looks like she shit herself, and Emily is panicking, trying desperately to get Sera to tell her what’s going on; she’s never seen the older Seraph look so terrified.

- With this unimaginably imposing figure now looming over Heaven, Adam decides this is the PERFECT time to attack, having been dumb enough to think this was a Demon attacking Heaven.

- The exorcists fly up towards the figure, ready to attack. This only angers the figure further however, and with a rumble that shakes the ground itself, the figure merely flaps its wings; creating a gust of wind so powerful it knocks all the exorcists back onto the ground.

- It’s at this point Sera FINALLY snaps out of it, rushing to Adam in mad panic and damn nearly strangling him while telling him to call off the exorcists. Which he does, albeit with some reluctance.

- This doesn’t stop him from asking Sera what gives, and her response is “Adam you absolute fucking fool, that is DEATH!”

- Now it’s Adam’s turn to look like he shit himself. “Death? As in, “the big man himself’s younger sister” Death?? As in, “the baddest bitch you’ve EVER seen, but can kill ANYTHING by just touching it” Death??? THAT fucking Death????” Ignoring that last statement, Sera’s frantic nodding in confirmation confirms to Adam that he has indeed fucked up. Big time. Adam then proceeds to lose all color in his face and practically cowers behind Sera as she cautiously approaches you, mentally preparing herself to be reaped on the spot.

- Back to your perspective however, you’re fucking PISSED. So pissed that you don’t even notice or stop to think that most of Heaven’s inhabitants likely have NO CLUE who you are, and are likely legitimately fearing for their lives. Meanwhile for all the older Angels and Angelic beings who’ve been alive long enough to have known you before you went to sleep, like Sera, they’re all still very much afraid, but it’s more in line with the “oh shit mom’s home early and she saw the mess we made in the kitchen, she’s gonna kill us!” kind of fear.

- The fact that they sent exorcists at you makes you even angrier. Like for starters, how fucking weak do they think you are that you could be stopped by just some low level Angelic beings with pointy sticks?? And then the audacity to even attack you to begin with, like THEY weren’t the ones who fucked up and you’re just some kind of strange intruder needing to be slain?? The INDIGNITY of it all!

- Your voice booms throughout Heaven, making even the ground tremble at the sheer intensity of it. “WHO DID IT?” You’re met with only silence, so you ask again with more force. “MY REALM IS A COMPLETE MESS WITH MILLIONS OF DISPLACED SOULS RIGHT NOW. SO AGAIN I ASK, WHICH ONE OF YOU FLAT FOOT CHILDREN DID THIS?!”

- Sera replies, voice trembling slightly. “Are…Are you talking about the exterminations? “IF THAT IS WHAT YOU’RE CALLING THIS MOCKERY OF MY WORK, THEN YES.” Sera looks visibly confused and concerned. “But…That SHOULDN’T be possible!…The exterminations KILL the Sinners; their souls should be gone, not stuck in Limbo! There has to be some kind of mistake here!”

- Hearing this, you can’t help but let out a brief but harsh cackle, making the ground jolt from the abruptness. “DEAR YOU HONESTLY THINK A SOUL COULD BE SO EASY TO DESTROY? A SOUL IS A POWERFUL THING FOR A REASON CHILD, IF THEY WERE SO EASILY DESTROYED THEN NONE OF YOU WOULD BE STANDING HERE BEFORE ME NOW!…SO ONCE AGAIN, WHO. DID. THIS?! AND SO HELP ME, IF I HAVE TO ASK AGAIN THERE WILL BE CONSEQUENCES.”

- Whilst Sera is dumbfounded by this revelation, Adam sees a golden opportunity to save his ass and points at Sera. “I-It was her! Yeah it was all fucking HER idea! I-I tried to tell her it was stupid, b-but she just REALLY wanted to go down and kill those bast- Demons! Yeah she REALLY wanted to kill all those poor Demons, can ya fucking believe this shit?!”

- Before Sera can defend herself, the darkness seems to intensify, and she can just FEEL every one of your eyes glaring daggers into her. “SERA…YOU SIGNED OFF ON THIS?? YOU SHOULD BE ASHAMED OF YOURSELF, I EXPECTED SO MUCH BETTER FROM YOU! I LEFT EXPLICIT INSTRUCTIONS FOR HEAVEN AND HELL TO WORK TOGETHER TO SORT SOULS FOR THIS VERY REASON! AND NOW BECAUSE OF THESE BARBARIC “EXTERMINATIONS”, YOU’VE COMPLETELY DESTROYED THE BALANCE I WORKED SO HARD TO CREATE AND MAINTAIN. I HOPE YOU’RE PROUD OF YOURSELF, BECAUSE I’M CERTAINLY NOT!”

- It’s a strange and mildly amusing sight to see the head seraph get scolded like a misbehaving child by this massive dark entity. But here we are anyway!

- At one point during the tongue lashing you’re giving to your niece, Emily buts in and asks for an explanation for what’s going on; having not heard Sera’s previous explanation to Adam apparently.

- Your temper flares for a brief moment, and you just about launched into another lecture at the little shit who DARED interrupt you. But upon seeing Emily, you softened considerably, seeing that she was young and TRULY didn’t understand what was happening.

- “AH…I APOLOGIZE DEAR, BUT I DON’T THINK I RECOGNIZE YOU…COME CLOSER LITTLE ONE SO I CAN SEE YOU.” You slowly crouch down and lower your hand, offering Emily to climb onto it. Emily is hesitant, obviously a bit scared of you. But Sera encourages her to go to you, she knows that you won’t hurt Emily and it’s high time she meets her aunt anyway.

- With the small seraph in hand, you stand back up to your full height and bring her closer to your face. Now FINALLY able to see her properly, you speak. “YOU’RE FAIRLY YOUNG FOR A SERAPH…YOU MUST’VE BEEN BORN DURING MY SLUMBER, AND IN THAT CASE I APOLOGIZE THIS HAD TO BE OUR FIRST MEETING. TELL ME, WHAT IS YOUR NAME CHILD?”

- Her voice trembling slightly, Emily tells you her name and then asks who you are and asks if you’re a seraph like her and Sera. The innocent question gets a genuine laugh out of you, and despite it shaking the ground it’s a lovely sound. “OH CHILD, I AM FAR FROM BEING A SERAPH. THOUGH I CAN SEE WHY YOU WOULD THINK THAT. YOU WERE ALL MADE IN MY IMAGE AFTER ALL.”

- Seeing the visible confusion on Emily’s face, you elaborated. “LONG AGO, YOUR FATHER WANTED TO SHOW HIS APPRECIATION OF ME. SO FOR HIS FIRST SENTIENT CREATIONS, THE SERAPHIM, HE BASED THEM ALL ON ME.” Emily looks surprised, and follows up by asking how you know God.

- You give another genuine laugh at her question. “SWEETY I’M HIS YOUNGER SISTER, I AM “DEATH”, THE GODDESS OF WELL…DEATH. BUT YOU CAN CALL ME “D” OR “AUNT D”, MOST OF YOUR SIBLINGS DO.” Emily’s mind is blown “Wait! YOU’RE aunt D?! Sera told me all kinds of stories about you before you went to sleep, like the time you got into an argument with Father over his invention of the “Snuggie”. I never thought I’d get to meet you!”

- “IT WAS LITERALLY JUST A BATHROBE YOU WORE BACKWARDS, AND I STILL CAN’T BELIEVE HE THOUGHT THAT WAS AT ALL CLEVER.” You huff, feeling amusement and mild irritation at that memory.

- “SPEAKING OF YOUR FATHER, WHERE IS HE?” Sera speaks up, having managed to recollect herself, and explains that no one has seen or heard a word from God since before you went to sleep.

- The irritated snarl that leaves your throat sounds like thunder and shakes the ground, making everyone tremble with fear. “THAT LAZY BASTARD HAD ONE FUCKING JOB, WATCH HIS DAMN KIDS, AND HE COULDN’T EVEN DO THAT?! NO WONDER THIS ALL HAPPENED THEN, HE LEFT YOU ALL UNSUPERVISED!”

- Bending over, you carefully set Emily down before standing back up. “I HATE TO CUT MY INTRODUCTION SHORT, BUT APPARENTLY I NEED TO GO AND HAVE A LITTLE CHAT WITH YOUR FATHER.” You stare pointedly at Sera and continue. “DON’T THINK THIS MEANS YOU’RE ENTIRELY OFF THE HOOK EITHER. WHILE YES, YOUR FATHER’S ABSENCE IS MOSTLY TO BLAME FOR THIS DEBACLE, YOU ALSO KNOW BETTER THAN TO DO SUCH TERRIBLE THINGS. WE WILL BE DISCUSSING THIS MORE ONCE I FINISH WITH YOUR FATHER, AND IF I COME BACK AND FIND OUT YOU HELD ANY MORE OF THESE “EXTERMINATIONS” I WILL TURN YOU INTO A HOLLOW! DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?” Looking at the ground, Sera nods and says “Yes Auntie D…”

- Satisfied with that response, you bid everyone farewell and slowly melt back into the ground, completely disappearing. Once you’re gone, the sunlight is back and it’s as if you were never there.

- Now the seraphim have to soothe the murmuring crowd while Sera starts attempting to get in contact with Lucifer to let him know that “Hey Aunt D found out about the exterminations and is NOT happy about it. She just got done yelling at me, and now she’s on her way to go read Father the riot act. Just warning you now because once she’s done with him, you’re probably gonna be next.”

- Lucifer receives the message and is now frantically trying to create peace offerings in hopes they’ll make you more amicable, while also preemptively planning his own funeral in case the peace offerings don’t work.

- Meanwhile in God’s palace, God is currently relaxing in an elaborate hot tub and watching American football on an absurdly large TV whilst drinking wine like it’s water. He’s pretty drunk and having a grand time yelling at the TV.

- His fun is interrupted through by you literally kicking in the door and storming in, you’ve shrunken down to your smaller size so all your features are actually visible now and not covered in darkness as you glare at your older brother with an intensity that could peel paint.

- God startled momentarily before seeing it’s you and giving you a dopey smile. He’s also in his smaller form, so that makes things slightly easier for you. “Ohhh heeeyyy Death!…You startled me thereee…It’zzzz beeen awhillle, huh?” You scoff at his slurred speech, in disbelief that he could be so drunk right now.

- “Yes, it HAS been awhile. Good to see that you still choose to spend your days getting completely wasted instead of tending to your children.” You answer tersely, and God rolls his eyes. “Zzstill the saaame old ssstuck up bitch…Tha kidzz are fahine Deee! Yyyoou should cohme haave ah drink wib meee.”

- You ignore God’s offer for a drink and cut right to the chase. “No, your kids are NOT fine! When was the last time you checked in on them?! Do you even know what they’re up to right now??!” God dismissively waves his hand and chugs more wine. “I juzzt checked on thhhem ah couple decades aghooo..They’rrre prohably makinnn neeewh liffe.”

- “God that is a load of shit, and you know it! I was JUST down in Heaven, and the seraphim told me that you haven’t seen or spoken to ANY of them since I left to take my nap eons ago! And furthermore, while you’ve been in here drinking the day away, your children have COMPLETELY destroyed the balance we created! They’ve been mass slaughtering Demons annually for millennia now, and Limbo is a complete disaster right now because of this!” Hearing this, God looks down at his bottle of whine, embarrassed, and mumbles an awkward “oh”.

- Silence hangs heavy in the air for a moment before God clears his throat and says. “Zzsooo…You’rrree NNOT gooing to drink wiff me?” At this you snap and snatch the wine bottle from God and chuck it at the TV, smashing the bottle and the TV. God shouts in anger but before he can ask you wtf that was for, you just lay into him. Calling him a deadbeat and pathetic excuse of a deity.

- “How can you just sit in here day after day, while your CHILDREN are out there causing such mayhem! Do you not love your children all??!” God is shouting back at you, his anger having sobered him up some so he’s not slurring as much. “How DARE you accuse me of not loving my children! I would giive ANYTHING for them and you know that!”

- “Then fucking ACT like it!! Don’t just sit in here and rot your mind with booze and TV!” God growls. “I don’t need you to tell meee how to handle my children! Why do you even care?! It’zzz not like they’re yours anyway!”

- “I care because they are part of MY family, and I want my family to be safe and happy, something that you couldn’t give less of a shit about apparently!” God throws his hands up at this point “Well what do you want from me Death, go hhhold their handz?! My children are ALL capable of thinking and being on their own, they don’t NEED me to do shit for them!”

- “That doesn’t mean that they don’t still need you there emotionally! But with the way you act maybe it’s best you ARE never there! After all, what use could any of them get from your pathetic drunk ass!!” This clearly struck a nerve as God points back at the door you came in through and roars at you to get the fuck out of his house. Growling, you give a harsh “Fine!” and tell him he can sit and be a drunk deadbeat all he wants because you’re done with him and his shit, and he’s NEVER to contact you again unless it’s in regards to his children or business.

- You stomp out of God’s palace and return to Limbo, wanting to start working on getting things cleaned up and cool off some before you go check on things in Hell.

- Once you’re gone though, God slumps his shoulders and hangs his head. With your venomous words echoing his head, he summons another bottle of wine and begins chugging it while he trudges into his bedchambers.

- He flops down onto the bed and picks up a framed photo and slowly brings it closer to his face. It’s an old photo, one taken shortly after God created the first few seraphim. You and God are both standing next to each other, arms around each other’s shoulders and leaning in close while the first seraphim all stand in between the two of you. Everyone is absolutely beaming, and God looks especially happy; so proud of his creations.

- Tears drop onto the photo as God remembers how things used to be back then, back when he was actually NEEDED by those around him and wasn’t just some brand figure who’s only job is to smile and wave. Even as he slowly sets the photo down, tears continue to fall and he holds his head in his hands. “…I’m sorry I’m so damn useless…Hopefully you’ll forgive me someday…Not that I deserve it though…I’m…so fucking sorry…” No one is there to hear God’s sobs, and eventually he passes out. He’d rather be dreaming of happier times anyway.

[ginjones]

“What did Apollo dream of?” Asks Hob, his voice a questing note which brushes the curve of Dream’s ear. He lies in naked warmth across the corded thew of his back, breathing life into marble. Breathing for them both. They had stayed this way for hours. Swathed together in the casual rituals of Sunday. An indulgent afternoon spent riding the blissful peaks of orgasm. Fragments of time dissolving into the peony blush of an August sunset.

Muscles tense beneath him and for a moment, Hob wants to swallow his words. The question has come too early. He should have waited. Let another century pass in quiet restraint for answers to fall unbidden. Then Dream moves under him with tectonic force, and every muscle rolls to bear his weight with ease. Impassive eyes stare blankly up.

“Music,” Dream states simply and then, after a pause “how the notes of a Lyre might soar and scatter their seed in the wheat fields of Crete. He dreamed the way God’s dream. With intent.”

“Oh.” Hob replies, “…alright.” He is not sure how to take this or for what answer he had hoped.

When Dream had returned to him in the bright glory of a June afternoon, had called him friend and sat in alignment on the seat of a twin chair, he had felt himself exalted. Then came the gifts of a name, several in fact, and the first offering of answers. That he had lain at the base of a glass sphere for 133 years. That he had missed the sound of birds taking flight. That blood will turn a dark sepia if left to stain a cold stone floor. Hob had felt the brush of fingers to his palm then. He had felt each subtle contact point of hands, of wrists, of legs. He had said nothing. Dream, he had told him, is in the process of rebuilding.

Hob gives himself freely to this process. By July the casual touches had transformed into weekly rituals where, in the summer heat of his flat upstairs, they had venerated each other in the arching of bodies, in the twisting of limbs. In warmth. In wetness. In light.

Dream looks up at him now, the light of ancient stars reflecting in his eyes. He smiles faintly. “I have had many lovers, Hob”. And he knows this. He knows. But he wants to know more. He wants to unwind the tangled eons of his being and find the subtle frays of conquest. To trace the heart line of his relations with the gods of another age. To wonder perhaps, what they felt like to this impossible creature who, after making himself a willing body, became the vessel for their dreams.

And his traitorous mind will not stop its reckless imaginings. Of perfect bodies mounting each other with graceful fluidity. Rutting for hours, decadent in the gleam of their own transcendent   splendour. He regards his own body then and finds it lacking. And yet, to trace the distant lands of Dream’s past is to know him, fondly, completely. He holds the envious blade to his heart and smiles. 

“I want to show you something,” Hob says, “Wait here.”

He rises from the alter of the bed to gather the offerings of books. Stories told by others to share. Hutton’s Queens of the Wild, a battered copy of Lexicon Iconographicum Mythologiae Classiciae he had bought second-hand in Cambridge. Human tales to dying gods who wait, in the tomb of the earth, for idolatrous rebirth. He places them down kindly and wraps himself again in the comfort of the bed.

Seraphic black eyes glance over the pages for the briefest of seconds before one is turned, then another and Hob realises this is how Dream processes information. So that entire books could be read in minutes; knowledge subsumed, taken inwards, and swallowed whole. Each story catalogued and reformed as a star in the nightscape consciousness of the collective unconscious.

“And what about Brigid?” Hob asks again, brushing a finger over the image of a woodcut in Hutton’s book. Dream’s body curves towards him; the pale crescent of a waning moon.

“Protection to those who would adorn her with the pearls of their words. Love given at a price. She was triple natured and dreamt of sacraments in milk and blood.”

He imagines the proud swell of her breasts and the lustrous warmth of her sex. How Dream might have laid her down among the richness of the living earth, her legs parting in mimicry of the unfurling of shivering leaves. How he might have bent to kiss the curve of her fruiting form and then, with the surge of yellow iris and bloodied poppies their consummation would sing in the arrival of spring.

Dream watches him closely with the subtle glimpse of a frown. His features correct themselves back to unspoilt marble. He glances back at the book.

Hours pass, or maybe days, and Dream is feeding him grapes. He watches with fascination at the ripe burst between his teeth. He places one perfect finger to the corner of his mouth and Hob takes him in. They make love again. Dream edging inside gently; a curtesy that belies the sheer strength of him. His shoulders are the roll of Atlantic waters, his corded muscles the terrain of mountains. Every quiet command to sit or bend down or open for me is the distant promise of a rainstorm. A body made for the pleasure of the divine. In the drop after the rising heat of release, he is reformed in bliss and made anew.

 “And Saturn?” He asks, once more.

It is midnight now. Time hangs suspended from one day till the next. His throat is the frayed edge of a salt slicked rope. Language has come back to him slowly and with it, the recollection that he wants to learn more. He has been placed under soft, dark sheets and held in the willowy bough of cool arms. His world has shrunk to hold nothing but the senses; the smell of his own body, juniper and vetiver. The glow of orange lamplight casting shadows on the wall. The delicate ache of muscles. The sound of distant voices rises thorough the stone of buildings, the wood of floorboard.

Dream is under the blankets with him too. He opens his eyes; sapphire bright.

“Unwavering devotion despite the hardships of capricious seasons. To be fed the rich loam of toil. Saturnalia was a decedent celebration, but his worshippers did not sleep. They turned away from my realm to follow the ghost of his words.”

“And you’re okay with me not being…Like; you don’t mind if I’m not someone one who could…”  Be a god for you, He thinks. Be better than I am. Be good enough to keep you.

Dream graces him with the rarity of a true smile and moves to close the distance. He is pulled to rest his head in the cove of a moonlit scapula. He is held there in silence; Dream placing a hand to the soft warmth of his stomach then tracing the thick trail of chestnut hair that leads down towards his pubis. He nuzzles into the crook of his neck and Hob can feel the subtle sensation of air. Dream is breathing him in. In this sanctuary they have created for themselves he is reminded of several moments. Where Dream, bathed in morning light, has watched him butter bread, or rinse dishes, or change tracks on a playlist to find a favourite song. He has watched him water plants, watched him eat. Has asked, several times in fact, to place a hand to the bob of his throat when he swallows. Sometimes, when he has woken from the swell of sleep, he finds Dream’s attentions on the aura- space around him. His eyes lit from the inside, tracing the phantom movements of some unseen, imperceptible thing. Half asleep still, he has seen Dream move a hand through the gloaming air in a dextrous swirl of intent. Capturing something, examining it, then looking back at him. You dream such wonderful things.

And here, resting together, Dream’s voice brushes the curve of his ear.

“You are more than a god, Hob. You are human.”

@softest-punk

[aspiringtrashpanda]

Raphael's HDD 2024 message about cheering for Levi because "he's a good guy" lives rent free in my head. Find the prompt list HERE.

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

DAY 25 Prompt: Raphael Back in the good ol' Celestial Realm days... 1.8k

“I thought I’d find you here.”

Raphael loomed over Belphegor’s frame, still swaddled in his bed sheets. Despite the soft snoring spilling from parted lips, gently lifting midnight blue strands from his face, Raphael knew Belphie was awake. It was the depth of his breathing. Each inhale was too swift after an exaggerated exhale. 

But Belphie didn’t answer. 

His frown still firmly in place, Raphael rounded the empty bed that Belphie’s twin had already successfully left, approached the large bay window and threw open the heavy curtains. Sunlight bathed the bedroom, illuminating particles of dust disturbed by the flourish of the material. Raphael sighed. Belphie probably left the curtains closed at all times.

Though the sun never set in the Celestial Realm, its intensity varied throughout the day. Currently lingering on the eastern horizon, the air remained fresh and crisp, yet to be baked by the sun’s rays. By midday, Raphael was certain it would be a particularly warm day. That did not bode well for his mission. Drowsiness was often exacerbated by heat.

A glance over his shoulder confirmed that Belphie had failed to move, still feigning the sleep he craved so deeply. 

“I know you’re awake,” Raphael asserted, his index finger prodding the other angel’s shoulder. 

There was no reaction.

Raphael poked him again. 

“Why…” Belphie groused, finally rolling over. Only, he rolled towards Raphael, who stepped back just in time for the former to tumble onto the ground, wrapped up in his blanket. 

It put Raphael in an awkward position. What was he supposed to do now? One would think that he would be adept at waking Belphegor by now. Sure, it wasn’t often tasked to him, but in a couple hundred centuries, give or take, he thought he’d figure out the trick.

But Belphie was clever, and that didn’t bode well for Raphael. Every time Raphael adjusted to his strategy, Belphie would switch things up. Like now, when he laid in a lump at Raphael’s feet. 

“Michael has asked that you clean the music room.” He tried, using his foot to nudge the mound of fabric and…Belphie? It was all warm and squishy and Raphael quickly removed his foot in fear that his fellow angel had actually become one with the bedding. 

Another length of silence. 

“Very well,” Raphael pulled out his trump card, “I’ll go see that Lucifer is put to the task instead.”

Much to Raphael’s amusement (not that you could tell by his straight-lipped expression), Belphie scrambled to his feet, shedding the blankets in record time. To give him some privacy, Raphael slipped out of the bedroom, carefully closing the door behind him. He nodded in greeting to Simeon as the other seraph passed down the hall, all bright smiles and a spring in his step. 

“This is too much work,” Belphie grumbled as he wiped down each key of the grand piano with more care than his tone would imply. “Why am I doing this?”

“Because Michael asked you to.” 

“Care to help?” Belphie’s huff was just enough to draw Raphael’s attention. Michael’s schedule stared up at him from the notebook in his hands, promising a challenge to organize. His face a placid facade, the gears in his brain whirred to life. He loved a puzzle–as long as it wasn’t for the sake of fun. 

“I’ve completed my cleaning for the day,” He answered, already penciling in appointments for the next day. Oh–there was a conflict later in the week. He’d have to fix that. 

Middle C rang out through the chamber, the note bouncing from the stained glass windows to the high, arched ceiling. When Raphael glanced up from the agenda, Belphie was pointedly pressing down on the piano key. For a moment he wondered why he failed to lift the finger from the note, but then, he realized that Belphie’s eyes had fluttered shut.

“Belphegor,” He chided, “You aren’t done with your task yet.”

Groaning, Belphie slumped over the keys, a cacophony of dissonant notes ringing throughout the room. Raphael glanced over to the harp and other instruments nearby, mildly concerned that such an ugly chord would snap a string or two. 

“It’s still so early,” Belphie whined, and Raphael was immediately reminded why he was assigned to supervising the sleepiest angel: Belphie didn’t like to take no for an answer. “Can’t I have a quick nap?”

“No.” 

Pursing his lips, Belphie attempted to bargain. “What if I finish cleaning? Can I nap then?”

Raphael was prepared for that. “No, then we move on to the records room. Michael would like you to sort the newest files there.”

Belphie grumbled, and Raphael wasn’t quite sure when he’d missed the former shifting to turn the piano bench into a bed. He was on his back, knees bent at the edge of his makeshift cot. Raphael didn’t miss the spark of interest in Belphegor’s eyes as he stared up at the decorative chandelier above. It was fashioned to resemble a galaxy, spiraling jewels sparkling in the eternal sunshine of the Celestial realm. 

“You should be honored,” Raphael pocketed the notebook for the time being, dedicating his time to convincing Belphegor to return to his feet. Strange, how Belphie was technically older than him. He certainly didn’t act like it. As Raphael frowned down at Belphie’s smug smirk, violet eyes screaming “try me”, he rose to the challenge. “Michael is trusting you with his day to day business. If you want to prove your potential as a seraph, you would do well to complete his request in a timely manner.”

Belphie curled his lip, a soft scowl preceding the slow blink that churned Raphael’s gut. Not again. He still had his trump card up his sleeve. “Perhaps my rain of spears would motivate you.” 

Belphegor thought for a moment, and though his lashes remained brushing his high cheekbones, the rest of his frame stiffened. 

“Hey Raphael,” Belphie broke the silence after he had finished cleaning the piano and had moved on to the ornate harp positioned in the window. “Won’t you sing for me?”

“You want me to sing for you?” Raphael would say he was surprised, but he supposed it wasn’t the first time he had received such a request. 

“You’ve got a nice voice. It would help me clean, I’m sure.” 

The praise warmed Raphael’s heart. Only a little, as there was something glimmering in Belphie’s clever eyes. He was plotting something. This was a trap. Feigning absolute indifference, Raphael let him down easily. “I don’t have any accompaniment.”

The challenge hardened Belphie’s stare. A resolute nod, the gesture of an index finger indicting patience, and Belphie was gone. Unfazed, Raphael returned to his notebook, balancing Michael’s appointments. If Belphie wasn’t back in five minutes, he’d summon his spears to hunt down the lazy angel.

Thankfully (or unfortunately?) that wasn’t necessary, as Belphie did return. Though this time, he dragged a flailing Leviathan behind him. With a frankly concerning amount of strength, Belphie sat the army general down on the piano bench with a sharp, “Levi, play the piano so Raphael can sing.”

Raphael turned his unreadable gaze onto Leviathan. The older angel shrunk under his stare, though Raphael didn’t quite understand why. He had always admired Leviathan. He did what you asked of him, and quietly kept to himself, more often than not. 

If Raphael was being honest, he thought Leviathan should have more confidence. He carried a lot of skill in his hands. For example, Levi balked at Belphie’s request, though Raphael had heard Levi play wonderfully on more than one occasion. Waffling, Levi excused, “You want me to play? U-um, I’m not very good. Lucifer is better at this sort of thing…”

“Didn’t Lucifer tutor you?” Raphael asked, his head cocked slightly to the side.

Levi yelped.

Raphael frowned. He hadn’t meant to scare him.

“Come on, isn’t a big brother supposed to look out for their younger siblings?” Attempting a new tactic, Belphie pulled out the puppy dog eyes, sitting down on the ground next to the piano bench. Raphael did not miss the way Belphie’s finger instinctively clenched around the air, as if searching for a blanket. “I really want to hear Raphael sing.” 

“Ah, okay, uh, fine.” Levi crumbled under Belphie’s words. Raphael considered that it had been a smart attack. Levi yearned for recognition, especially after his position as an army general had been made unnecessary (for now). The opportunity to help another angel, to be of some sort of use, forced his hand. 

And perhaps Raphael had the sheet music on him, procured it in an instant and threw it upon the as if he had anticipated Belphie’s request all along. When Levi gawked, when Belphie raised an eyebrow, he insisted that he kept it on him for when Lucifer and Michael asked for a song. 

Levi’s fingers began to carefully slide across the piano keys, hesitant at first, a little slower than the piece suggested. But then, he found his rhythm, his heart pounding in time with the strings hammering inside the piano. 

As the melody swelled, Raphael began to sing. He liked to start off soft, unexpecting. All smooth notes with little emotion. Then, as the classical piece grew, building with increased piano activity, he allowed his voice to become imperfect, allowed the vowels to waver and the consonants to cut off when he felt it right. His eyes fluttering shut, Raphael lost himself in the music, in the croon of his voice harmonizing with Levi’s more than capable instrumentation. 

When he sang, his mind became colorful, fizzy and hazy and oh, so sweet. The gentle fog was warm, like the cloying sensation that he’d feel in his chest when he would help Simeon prune Michael’s roses in the greenhouse, when he would discuss ethics over tea with Lucifer. He would be lying if he didn’t experience a similar emotion when he sought out Mammon traipsing all over wherever he definitely was not supposed to be, or when Asmodeus brought him all the clothes that had suffered at the hands of Lucifer’s punishments. As it turned out, sewing wasn’t as bad as Raphael thought it would be. 

The song coming to an end, Raphael felt his soul cling to the vestiges of that pretty, sparkling dreamscape. It was always harder finishing a piece than starting one. His voice belting the final crescendo, he had to maneuver his tone back down into something soft and somber, almost mournful of what was coming to a close. 

The music room echoed silence for a single beat as he exhaled slowly, allowing his spirit to return to his body.

“That was beautiful,” Levi breathed, stars in his watery eyes as he showered Raphael with applause. “I wonder if people can sing like that in the human world. Do you think there’s manga about singers?” 

Though, his clapping sounded rather…lonely. Raphael’s spine went ramrod straight, realization sparking something fierce and electric in his mind. 

“Where’s Bel–” The question died in his throat at the sight of the otherwise empty music room. He already knew the answer. 

“He won this round, didn’t he?” Levi chuckled nervously, awkwardly tapping two keys reminiscent of a whomp, whomp. 

“I suppose,” Raphael turned on his heel, already aiming for the observatory. “Next round he will become quite acquainted with my spears.” 

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

OBEY ME! MONTH MASTERLIST

[2af-afterdark]

God!MC has a request for their beloved Gabriel: Breed them. Fill them up to the brim 😏

Their legs wrapped around his hips, their back arching off the surface of the bed below. A wonderful melody of rapturous pleasure spilled from their lips as he pumped his hips against theirs. He pressed his lips together so hard that his pale skin turned red, all for the sake of ensuring he didn't drown out the sound of them with his own pleasure.

Their hole gripped him, drew him in as he worshipped their body. Through his uncovered eye he could only admire so much of them, but he wouldn't brush his hair aside for fear of losing the gentle touch of their skin against his fingers.

"Gabriel?" They hummed with a devilish smirk (although nothing of theirs could be devilish). "My beloved Seraph?"

"Hm?"

They slipped their arms around his neck, pulling him in close enough to whisper a sweet, honeyed command. "Breed me."

He let slip his hands from their resting place and grabbed at their thighs instead, unwrapping them from around his hips and pushing them forward until they were pressed against their chest.

They whined softly as he shifted inside of him, pressing against a new, deeper spot that lit a fire in their belly and scatteref twinkling stars across their vision.

"As you wish, my god."