#Deals with Demons

[vartoids]

Art for @aftgbigbang 2024 - Based on Deals with Demons on Ao3 by @aquared46

(click for better quality)

[inuhalfdemon]

“Have you…- did you ever have sex?”

The radio, still playing the soft notes of something jazz briefly rattled with an irritating static, before tuning back in clearly to what had been playing. Alastor was holding his whiskey glass, still close to his smiling face, but his eyes were sharply on her.

“Isn’t that a rather…distasteful question, Adeline?” He held one eyebrow raised.

“What?” She wasn’t really sure why he seemed so bothered by it, but he was almost glaring at her despite the grin he held in place. “You could just skip it…” She told him. “And, I really only meant to ask if you had while you were human. Is it really that big of a deal?”

He slumped into the couch, taking a dragging swallow from his whiskey, all the while holding his other hand up, giving her one raised long and very pointed middle-finger.

“Oh, wow.” She said, laughing. “You really didn’t like that question.”

“No.” He said darkly. “I didn’t.” The radio filter completely absent from his voice for a moment.

Fanfiction excerpt from Chapter 6 of "Dirty Dealings"

[chaotic-orphan]

The Immortal Hunter (6)

Read part one here // continued from here

*~*~*~*~*

Heath didn’t leave Killian’s side for a week after Felix’s party. On the third day that Killian stepped outside his quaint cottage on the edge of town, he smiled, bemused at the vampire who lingered on the stone wall across from his house.

“Do vampires sleep?” Killian asked that morning. Heath nodded along, enjoying the conversations he had with the human. It had been a while since he let himself have a friend, let alone a human one.

“Yes. We can sleep. I enjoy sleeping, I just don’t need to do it. Vampires are crepuscular creatures anyways so we—”

“Crepe— what?”

Heath blinked. “Oh, sorry. We’re nocturnal. We sleep at day and wake up naturally at night for the hunt. The opposite to humans who sleep at night and wake during the day.”

Killian hummed. “Felix isn’t nocturnal,” he said quietly.

Heath’s haze hardened as they came up to the gates of Felix’s estate. “No. Felix is an exception to many rules.”

Felix raised an eyebrow when Heath opened the door of the state house, Killian following behind. His cat-like eyes drifted lazily to the clock, a minute before the start of Killian’s shift. Hmph.

Felix greeted them in his usual cheerful way. Killian nodded stiffly, responding politely before dismissing himself to get to work. That left Heath as the object of Felix’s attention.

“You seem to have taken a liking to my darling pet,” Felix told him with a smile.

“He’s your employee, not your pet.”

“Well, he’s not as fun as you were. You could do it all. Employee, human punching bag, entertainment, blood source.”

Heath bristled when Felix slung a lithe arm around his shoulders, guiding him into Felix’s study. It was a beautiful room, and Heath could see why Felix spent most of his time in here. The walls on either side were fitted with mahogany shelves, lined with at least two hundred titles, all of which Felix had read. Some that even Heath read after Felix taught him how.

Dark oak wooden floors boxed in the lush, burgundy carpet that ran the length of the floor; the middle strip where Felix’s cherrywood desk stood proud, commanding the space. Behind the desk was the giant gothic window that opened out into the grounds behind the house. Heath remembered when he was helping the stable hand attend to the horses, feeling eyes on him and looking up to see Felix observing him from his study window. His proud head held high, arms behind his back, and even from the vast distance Heath could still feel Felix’s hungry, predatory grin on his face.

“Whiskey, darling?” Felix asked, disentangling himself from Heath and walking over to his decanter beside the two armchairs off to the left of the room, near the exposed fireplace.

“Why not.” Heath said with a shrug, following him to the armchairs and settling into one, staring into the flames of the fire. “You can’t touch Killian, Felix,” Heath said, the fire dancing in the reflection of his eyes.

The vampire paused his movements for a brief moment, a cunning smile gracing his lips. “Mmm. I love it when you’re bossy.”

“I mean it,” Heath told him, taking the glass of whiskey with a pointed look. Felix ignored it as he sat in the other armchair, staring into the flames. “The Hunter is protective of him, and if you get between that… he’ll rip you apart.”

“As if you wouldn’t love that,” Felix purred. “Such a shame that you’re leaving us to return your green hills of old.”

Heath bristled, shifting to get more comfortable. He felt Felix’s cat like eyes on him, studying him, everything he did or didn’t do.

“Well… I think I might be sticking around for a bit.”

“For how long?” Felix didn’t give him the time to answer, humming to himself, swirling the honey-coloured liquid in his glass. “Wait, no. Let me guess. Around… 80 years?”

Heath took a sip instead of answering.

Felix laughed. “And if I turn him before then?” He asked, his voice low and sultry. Heath looked at the vampire, letting his emotions pass over his face. “I guess you’d have to stay around forever, love.”

“Don’t test me, Felix.”

“Oh come on. You just need a little blood in you. Then you’ll lighten up.” Felix said. “I have blood on tap if you want it.”

“I’m about two seconds away from ripping your throat out.”

Felix waved him away. “You old flirt, you. Though, we do have to discuss your living arrangements if you are to stay here with me.”

“I’ll find somewhere in the village.”

“Nonsense.”

“I’d rather not stay here, Felix.”

“Well… that just won’t do, will it?” Felix asked, his bright eyes basking in Heath’s attention. “I’ll tell you what, darling. Because we’re such old friends, and because I understand that that monster inside of you will protect Killian at all costs, I have a proposition for you.”

Heath scoffed, nostrils flaring, because he knew exactly what Felix’s propositions were. Heath turned his eyes back to the flames, wondering vaguely if setting himself on fire would hurt less than whatever evil Felix had concocted in his mind. “Is this one I can refuse?”

“Of course, love. I’m not unreasonable. You always had a choice.”

Heath downed the rest of the liquid in his glass, savouring the burn in the back of his throat. “Alright.”

“I won’t touch a pretty little hair on Killian’s head, he will be the most protected human in the village. I’ll even spare his little family my wrath too.”

Heath nodded. “Okay.”

“But you have to understand, that that would mean I would be extremely bored, and you know how I get when I’m bored… so either, wow, look at me. Giving you options aren’t I so generous? The years have made me soft, Heath. Or maybe that was just your effect on me.”

“Either?…” Heath echoed, imploringly. Felix exposed his fangs over his lips, knowing he had Heath right where he wanted him.

Felix kissed his teeth, tsking Heath lightly as he stepped around to the back of Heath’s chair, slinking his arms over Heath possessively.

“You’re no fun, darling,” he said with a playful pout, lips beside Heath’s ear. Heath raised a hand, wrapping his fingers around Felix’s wrist, trying to dislodge the touchy vampire from him, but Felix just clamped down harder around Heath. “And you forget, I’m stronger than you,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to Heath’s temple.

Heath huffed out a breath. “Either?” Heath repeated, defeated.

“Either, you take up your old position for me, in place of Killian. You provide me with all the joy and entertainment you used to before,” Felix murmured, smiling when he felt Heath shiver under him at the mention of entertainment. “Come back under contract for me, and work for me again…”

Felix trailed off, running a hand through Heath’s hair and pulling his head back and to the side, grazing his fangs along Heath’s throat. “Or you go out and you enthral a sweet little human for me to play with while you protect poor little Killian.”

Heath stiffened under Felix, his grip turning white knuckled on the glass. The sound of glass cracking punctured the silence between them until Felix tutted and Heath relaxed his grip.

“That’s—” Heath stuttered. “You know that’s not even an option.”

“But it is, love. I’ve always given you the choice.”

“The illusion of choice,” Heath spat, his words coated with a helpless venom. Felix’s free hand roamed to Heath’s chest over where his heart used to beat.

“Well, if it makes you feel better, I’m making concessions too. It’s so much more fun to terrify humans, the taste of their fear, the pounding of blood.” Felix tightened his hand over Heath’s heart, puncturing his chest with his claws. Heath jerked forward with a hiss, but Felix pulled him gently back. “Though I’m sure I could make do with having you by my side again. You always were my favourite, you know.”

If Heath had a heart, he knew it would be racing a drumbeat in his chest. His lungs would tighten in his chest, pulsing against his ribs at the panic that threatened to overwhelm him at Felix’s generous offer.

“And if I refuse?”

Felix sighed against Heath, nuzzling his nose into Heath’s throat. “Then I’d have to use Killian in your place.”

Heath froze under Felix. Felix’s fangs traced a line down Heath’s throat, already knowing what Heath was going to choose.

“I hate you.”

“I know, little one.”

Heath’s fingers curled into fists, useless. He knew coming back here was a bad idea, a terrible idea, but to think that Felix would trap him again like this? He got out, why did he come back?! Why!

“We make a blood pact,” Heath demanded, tightening his free hand into a fist on the armchair.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, darling.” Heath’s breath hitched as Felix’s fang drew a bead of blood in his throat. “Can I take that as a yes?”

Heath deflated in the armchair. He swallowed thickly.

“Yes.”

Felix hummed, delighted and sank his fangs into Heath’s throat. Heath bucked against him, trying to dislodge the ancient vampire from his neck, but Felix held him down with ease as if Heath still had the strength of a human. Heath hated the way he could feel Felix’s fangs draw the limited blood from his system, weakening him the more he drank.

Felix moaned happily against Heath, drinking every last drop with all the greed he wanted to. Heath was a vampire, he wouldn’t die if he was drained dry. Felix didn’t know why he didn’t think of this before. All the worries and limitations of humans could be mitigated with a vampire slave.

It was only when Heath let out a small keening whine that Felix pulled away, licking the wounds to seal them and stop Heath bleeding out. He didn’t even have to do that, it was more like a reflex than anything else.

Heath’s vision blurred, feeling lightheaded as Felix pulled away. He dropped the glass to the floor, which Felix caught before it hit the ground. The vampire set the two glasses on a table between the armchairs, smiling at Heath who was glaring weakly up at him through half lidded eyes. The venom must still have an effect on Heath’s body. Something Felix noted and stored away in the back of his mind.

“Oh, look at you,” Felix cooed, booping Heath on the nose. “Still as adorable as the first day I found you.”

“Fuh—ck you.”

“Still as feisty too.”

Heath tried to sit up, but his body felt as if it was cemented down to the chair in lead. Fuck. He hadn’t felt this powerless since… since he couldn’t remember when. He watched through half-lidded eyes as Felix cut a line over his wrist and Heath tried to push himself forward to reach the vampires arm. He had to drink Felix’s blood for the pact to be binding, to protect Killian if Heath agreed to be Felix’s fucking slave again.

Felix held his wrist out of Heath’s reach, his bright eyes shining as he watched Heath struggle and pant against Felix’s venom. “Come on, Heath. Just a little further,” he coaxed.

Heath shook his head, trying to shake off the numbness that kept his body still as the grave. He grunted with the effort, slamming his eyes shut as he moved forward, the world spinning as he fought against the compulsion to keep him docile.

“Come on, Heath,” Felix taunted. “Don’t you want to save that poor human’s miserable existence?”

Heath finally grabbed Felix’s arm at the elbow, pulling it down towards his mouth. Just before his fangs lowered, however, the wound healed and Heath glared up at the ancient vampire unimpressed.

A cold hand stroked Heath’s jaw. “Come on, darling. We both know it’s more fun to just take what you want.”

Heath swallowed, and bite Felix’s wrist, his fangs sinking deep into the flesh and drawing the old, recycled blood from Felix’s wrist. The blood tasted putrid and wrong, but Felix practically moaned above Heath as he pulled more and more blood from the vampire’s body.

A hand wound itself tightly through Heath’s hair and yanked back suddenly, pulling Heath off of Felix with a gasp. He coughed and spluttered, trying to get the horrible, acrid taste from his mouth, wiping the back of his mouth with his hand. Heath glared up at Felix who grinned, showing his fangs down at Heath.

“Good,” Felix murmured, thumbing away a drop of blood that was dripping down the corner of Heath’s mouth. “Now, dear. Only one thing left to do,” he said, and sliced his left palm, the gash going deep. Before Heath could protest Felix grabbed his wrist and did the same, before joining their hands together.

Heath hissed as he could feel the pact take hold between them, burning through his palm to the back of his hand. Tendrils of black ink-like blood traced a beautiful pattern from the back of his hand, up his arm and locking like barbed wire over his heart. He lurched forward, clutching his chest with his free hand, trying to pull his hand back from Felix’s, but Felix clamped his fingers down around Heath’s until the process was complete.

The ink-like blood seeped into Heath’s skin, burning all the way through until he was a sweaty, trembling mess, his hands still held by Felix’s. Felix’s hand burned with the same pattern, except the colour of the blood on his arm was a garish, scar-like white. The intricacies of the deal, the covenant, the contract, were scrolled onto each of their skin in the old tongue, a reminder of what they had promised each other.

When it was finished, Felix dropped Heath’s hand and studied the strange glowing contract on his arm. “Wonderful. Now, all done. It wasn’t that bad, now was it?”

Heath didn’t answer. He didn’t even have the energy to glare at the vampire. He shut his eyes against the pain that lingered like dancers following the brand up his arm. Heath’s breath hitched as he felt Felix’s cold hands were on his forehead. His fingers gently moving the sweaty strands out of the vampire’s face so he could see every twinge of pain, every after effect of the blood pact on the once human thing.

“That almost killed you, darling boy,” Felix said with barely contained glee behind the words. “You really would risk anything for a foolish human.”

Heath didn’t have to energy to fight back, but he couldn’t deny that Felix’s cold hands felt so nice on his forehead, and he leaned into the touch like a cat would a human.

“Oh, my sweet boy. I think we should get you to bed, hmm? I don’t you fainting on your first day back in my service, oh all the things we will do together, Heath.”

Heath groaned as Felix wrapped an arm around him and pulled him out of the comfortable chair, letting him lean all his weight onto the ancient vampire. “There you go, sweet boy. Oh I could just eat you when you’re like this.”

“Fuck— off,” Heath whined as Felix walked them out of the study and towards the foyer. The backdoor opened to their left and in walked a quick-stepping vampire, pulling garden gloves off her hands and smiling when she saw Felix and Heath. Then she smelled the blood, and suddenly Celeste was in front of the pair, red eyes locked on Heath’s.

“What happened?” She asked, her voice breathless. She saw the bite marks on his throat and her gaze cut into Felix. “What did you do?” She hissed, bearing her fangs at him.

Felix smiled an easy smile. “We made a deal, didn’t we Heathy?”

Celeste’s eyes went back to Heath, softening at the edges. She put her hands on his cheeks, tilting his head to look at her. “You idiot.”

“I know,” Heath said with a breath, closing his eyes at her soft touch. He didn’t want to see the pity in her face, but she would understand when he told her later. She would understand and curse Felix and kiss him and everything would be okay.

“If you’ll excuse us, darling, the boy’s a bit drained. I’m taking him to bed.” Felix said. Heath could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke, so proud to have Heath under his thumb again. God. He was such an idiot.

“I’ll take him,” Celeste said immediately.

“Nonsense,” Felix replied already walking forwards, dragging Heath along with him. “I’ll be down shortly.”

Heath smiled at Celeste’s protests, his heart would’ve beamed at her care and love, but Felix was older than both of them, and older meant stronger, and Heath didn’t want the guilt of having Celeste hurt because of his foolishness, so he was happy that she remained in the hall, watching the pair as Felix helped Heath up the stairs.

Heath stopped in the room he and Celeste were sleeping in, but Felix dragged him on, further down the hall. “Felix, where’re—”

“Hush, dear boy. Just let me worry about everything, you shouldn’t trouble your pretty little head about it.”

Heath swallowed, trying to straighten in Felix’s hold and dig his heels into the carpet, but Felix pulled him along, all the way down to the door at the end of the hall. Felix’s room. Heath’s heart leapt into his throat, as he struggled against Felix’s venom injecting weakness through every inch of his body.

He hadn’t been in Felix’s room since he was human. It was the last place Heath was human, and it’s not a place he’d like to revisit, or filled with happy memories. It felt as if Felix had taken a knife and plunged it into Heath’s gut, twisting the metal as he opened the door and Heath was greeted with the familiar scent of the vampire.

It wasn’t like Felix ever did anything untoward to Heath when he was human, but he had a very strange possessiveness about him that Heath knew humans just didn’t. Some nights, when Felix didn’t leave Heath in his own room, or in the basement in chains for misbehaving, Felix would bring Heath into his room, into his bed, and cuddle him like he was a teddy bear.

It was so foreign a touch, so strange and upsetting. Felix would wrap Heath in blankets until he couldn’t move his limbs enough to cause any real trouble and cuddle him the entire night, his arms like iron chains wrapped around his entire body. He remembered not sleeping initially and Felix noticing this, and that was worse.

Felix would talk to him then, or sing softly in his ear. Or he’d drain him until Heath passed out, and eventually Heath learned to just sleep as quickly as he could before the vampire tried to do any of the other things to try and get Heath to sleep.

“Felix, please, let me sleep in my room,” he begged, his voice coming out high and whining. “Please.”

“We’re here now, darling, don’t worry. Here, sit down there,” Felix said, setting Heath down on the side of Felix’s bed. Heath gripped the edge of the bed, the soft duvet bunching under his hands.

“You did this… on purpose,” Heath huffed out, the world swimming in a mixture of colours that made him feel sick. Felix appeared in front of him again, taking a knee in front of the immortal hunter and grinning up at him.

“Did what?” He asked feigning innocence and tilting his head as he worked on unlacing and removing Heath’s shoes. Heath closed his eyes, trying to stop the world from turning but it didn’t stop the wooziness in his head. He groaned and shot a hand out, grabbing the poster of Felix’s canopy bed. “Oh, pet.”

“I’m not your pet,” Heath seethed, eyes flashing open. That was a mistake. Felix moved with unnatural speed, scooping Heath up in his arms and depositing him in the middle of the ridiculously big and comfortable bed.

Felix grabbed the duvet and pulled it up, tucking Heath into the bed. “Now, surely, I don’t have to stay with you, do I? Or tie you down so you don’t try and get up, hurting yourself.”

Heath shivered at the thought. “No,” he said weakly. Felix beamed.

“Wonderful. I’ll be downstairs when you feel better.” Felix leaned in, pressing a kiss to Heath’s temple. Heath turned away, but Felix just carded his hands through Heath’s hair. “I’m so happy you’re back, darling. I really have missed you. It’ll be just like the old days.”

Heath suppressed the whine of protest, opting to just stay silent and let the vampire just do whatever he wanted until he was satisfied and left. “Just call my name when you wake, sweet boy. I’ll come get you.”

Yeah right, Heath thought, but he just said: “okay.”

Felix beamed down at him, smile exposing his fangs and then he left. The heavy door shut and Heath flinched when he heard the sound of the lock. The bastard locked him in? Fuck. Felix told him once that he had made his house vampire proof.

Dramatic things, us vampires, he had told Heath one night when Heath was struggling to sleep in Felix’s bed, shivering against the monster. We like to break things and doors and furniture to make a point, so I made this manor vampire proof. Well, as much as possible. Ancient ones like myself could still destroy this place, but normal vamps? They may as well be human in this place.

So Heath would have to call Felix to come and get him when he woke up. Great. Perfect. Right now, Heath was exhausted and he just wanted to sleep. He could deal with Felix when he wakes up, hopefully after the venom leaves his system. Sleep came easily, his last thoughts were warm: at least, he thinks as darkness grabs him in its comforting grip, at least I saved Killian and his family from eternal torment.

[nywcgirl]

[greykolla-art]

Guys! Can you believe I was gonna just CASUALLY watch Hazbin Hotel???

But it’s way too good. The writing is so tight, all the characters are interesting and layered, ALL THE SONGS:🔥🔥🔥

Alastor is such a Cheshire Cat! Not a characteristic I see often, but it’s always good! Gimme more immediately.👏👏👏

[spkyart]

Specialist

[shanastoryteller]

i know supernatural is the show of missed opportunities but man. the trials really get to me - what a perfect way to reboot and reset this show that you're artificially extending for ratings. it could have been really, really good, actually

so the trials of god is a way for someone to gain the ability to seal the gates of hell and the gates of heaven

they have the translation for hell, they know that slamming the gates of hell shut means calling all the demons back home and locking the key. it's logical, then, to for them to believe the same is true of the one for heaven - that it calls all the angels back home and locks them away where they can't do any more damage

peace, for the people of earth, outside of the influence of angels and demons. that's got to be worth it, right?

so while sam is completing the hell trials, they get the angel tablet, kevin gets translating, to figure out the angel trials. or maybe metatron helps nudge them along to figuring it out, since him being the big bad here isn't really relevant and they are in a bit of time crunch

canon doesn't tell us what the heaven trials are, except that the first one involves a ritual using the heart of a nephilim. they make it sound like they're carving it from their chest, but what i would do is

have a nephilim offer you their heart from their chest (gain their loyalty in a binding ceremony)

create grace from freshwater (there is no rain that falls anywhere on earth that is safe to drink and god said let there be a firmament in the midst of the waters)

find a human soul to guide you to heaven (babel fell but the stairway was built and those with wings have no need of stairs)

so sam is in the midst of the hell trials when dean sort of accidentally on purpose completes the first heaven trial and then the brothers are on parallel train tracks heading in the opposite direction

sam works to close the gates of hell

dean works to close the gates of heaven

demons and angels both working to stop them

sam completes the trials. he restores crowley's humanity and he dies and the gates of hell are closed

but that's not the end

metatron says they can close the gates if they're willing to pay the price. canon says the price is sam's death, but frankly that doesn't make any sense. what's the death of one human against the horrors of hell? and remember, metatron doesn't know the winchesters. maybe another angel would make this comment, knowing how the winchesters have weighed the safety of the world against their brother and left the world out to dry, would think this a price worth warning for. but metatron wouldn't bother, wouldn't even think of it, if that was the only price

the gates of hell close and malevolent spirits explode across the globe, evil spirits and angry ghosts causing death and destruction everywhere

hell serves a function and now the gates are closed and every evil human soul is forced to stay on earth, causing as much destruction as it can

that's the price for closing the gates of hell

except. except. aren't the hell trials interesting?

kill a hellhound. rescue an innocent soul and return it to heaven. purify a demon and restore their humanity.

the trials are not to prove if someone is worthy of closing the gates of hell. it's to prove they're capable of setting hell to rights

the trials are if things got too out of hand, if things were taken too far, and hell had to be put back in it's place. sam dies and ends up exactly where azazel wanted him - ruler of hell. all the demons and souls are trapped with him and what he has to do, while he has them all there, while they can't escape, is exactly what he did to get there

he kills the hellhounds, leaving only those meant to patrol hell. he releases every innocent soul bound there. he purifies the demons one by one, who he either releases as innocent souls or who to pledge to do their job as demons of hell - punishing evil, containing evil - in penance for what they did before (how do i even begin to make up for what i've done, crowley had asked, and this is the answer)

meanwhile, dean, heartbroken, completes the heaven trials and dies

and the gates of heaven slam shut and all the angels are stripped of their grace and expelled from heaven and dean finds himself in charge of an empty heaven

the trials are for when things have gone too far and heaven must be rebuilt, after all

good souls pile up, no one who dies able to truly leave earth, and given enough time they become twisted things that must be hunted along with the spirits of evil men and women who cause chaos from their last breath

dean has work to do. he has one angel - the nephilim whose loyalty he earned in the first trial - and this is what he has to do. he recruits more, to replace the ranks, he creates grace and hands it out judiciously. he sends them to guide the good souls home, using the stairway that the former angels wouldn't be able to use even if they wanted to, and each good act and deed earns them a little more grace. former angels throw themselves into the fight for humans, because they know it's the only way that dean will return their grace to them and lift them back into heaven

and in fighting for them, in living like them, they learn to love these creations of their father that they'd despised. they see what he saw and the thought of destroying this place in a civil war becomes unthinkable to them. they are once more the angels god intended them to be

in this, dean and sam fulfill their destiny as lucifer and michael's vessels. not in letting them in, but in pushing them out, in doing the work each was intended for but refused

only when there is only evil human souls being punished and caged, only once the demons are once more working to run hell and earn their release to heaven, does sam reopen the gates of hell

only when there's a full choir of angels once more, committed to their cause, only once there are souls working with reapers as it once always was, does dean reopen the gates of heaven

they're called the god trials for a reason. above and below, sam and dean act as god, putting things back in their intended places

they could stay. they should stay. keeping house, making sure it all goes smoothly, eternally keeping earth safe from angels and demons both

they're called the god trials for a reason. not even god could resist the paradise inbetween that he'd created

dean doesn't know if sam is going to return to earth. he might stay in hell, and if dean becomes human once more, then what's the point? he'll live and die a human, get stuck in heaven, and be forever separated from the brother he loves

sam doesn't know if dean is going to return to earth. he migh not be able to, might be stuck doing his work - sam assumes if the hell trials did this to him, then the heaven trials did the same to dean, and the idea that dean could have failed the heaven trials after he dies doesn't even cross mind. if he returns and dean's not there then he loses it all, he never again gets to see the brother he loves

but when, exactly, haven't they been willing to risk everything for each other?

dean falls as lucifer fell, throwing himself towards earth

sam rises as michael did after the fall, pulling himself towards earth the same way michael once pulled himself to the top of heaven

what's the use of being a god without his brother, after all?

dean and sam are reunited on earth, human once more

no more angels, no more demons, heaven and hell functioning once more as they should. we're back to basics, a clean slate, all of the rest remade and set aside by their own hands (it's literal and a metaphor, the way the show could have remade itself with the trials, after setting aside kripke's plan while at the same time recognizing that the design of it - two brothers who love each other going across america and fighting evil - is the thing that made it worth watching to begin with) and now it's them again, brothers forged in blood and sacrifice and love, and a new appreciation for the humanity they gave up and returned to

and then we get my beloved monster of the week with no stupid too high stakes, convoluted bullshit involved, beyond the occasional angel who dean refused to reinstate and demon tracking down miscreant souls and, every once in a while, a person or creature or something in between squinting at them and going - weren't you two gods?

nah, they say, all corn fed grins and the dimples their momma gave them, we're brothers

[thebaldursmouthgazette]

I’m sure Dumat being defeated the same year andraste was born means nothing

I’m sure this has nothing to do with the fact that andrastes mother was part of a tribe who helped the grey wardens fight and defeat dumat the same year she was born, meaning that she could have been a fetus affected by the taint in the proximity of a dying arch demon

And the fact that nobody knows which grey warden killed dumat, as seven wardens died from injuries from his death throes, and therefore we cannot actually identify a warden who absorbed his soul, means nothing

And I’m sure it is a complete coincidence that andraste had dreams and visions of the being later referred to as the maker her whole life, and behaved strangely, talking about hearing lost voices and seeing strange auras. That absolutely doesn’t sound like anyone else we know

[call-me-strega]

Dc x Dp Prompt #22: The Custody Battle Turned Romance

A freshly resurrected Jason is found by Single Dad Danny raising a de-aged Dan and Dani who goes "surely one more kid can't hurt?" and takes him in. Danny helps him deal with his catatonia, trauma amnesia, and other side effects of being undead without the need for a Lazarus Pit.

He takes the kid to a therapist Jazz recommended and supports him thoughout his recovery. They did some bloodwork and found out pretty early on he was The Jason Todd-Wayne but then he decided not to reach out and let Jason decided what he wanted once he was recovered.

Danny, Ellie and Jordan love and treat him like family in a way he's never quite had before even with Bruce. They’re just so open and honest about their feelings and never make him feel out of place. So when Danny ask if he’d like to reconnect with the Waynes or stay with the them, Jason chooses to stay with them.

The world has moved on around them, and so has the Batfam. Jason knows about Tim (and talked through his feelings in therapy). He knows about the foundation Bruce created in his memory and the way he very publicly grieved. He witnessed the news over Nightwing nearly beating the Joker to death. He knows enough to decided it’s better to let the dead remain dead. Instead, he becomes Jason Nightingale, eldest adopted son of a mechanic in the Narrows. The family welcomes him with open arms officially accepting him as a brother and son.

Danny supports Jason to finish his high school and college education and Jason decides to be a doctor as an homage to Thomas Wayne and aspires open a free clinic like Leslie Thompkins. They get his death certificate revoked under circumstances of resurrection (which is a thing that actually exists in public documents due to the resurrections that tend to happen in the DC universe) and legally adopt him so that he can go back to school. However, Batman monitors public records to a degree and this gets flagged in the system bc it’s Jason’s death certificate.

Suspicious, but optimistic Bruce informs the rest of the family what he has found out and ask them to come as back up for when he goes to find Jason. He’s investigated and is sure that the family who helped rehabilitate Jason is clean and nice people but he wants his son back. They others also wanna see Jason but are worried if this is a good idea since Jason hasn’t reach out himself and there is paperwork for an adoption in the system. But Bruce decides to track them down anyway.

Bruce shows up as the Nightingale’s door and asks to see Jason. Danny, sympathetic, agrees on the condition Jason wants to see him. Jason is hesitant, but decided it would be good way for both of them to get closure and agrees. Bruce and Jason have a tearful reunion and a long heartfelt conversation at the end of which Bruce says “Let’s go home son”. To which Jason has to awkwardly break it to him, but he has no intention of leaving the Nightingale’s and returning to the Manor. He lets him know that he’s open to meeting the rest of the family at least once more but that Danny is his dad now and Ellie and Jordan are his little siblings.

Bruce is devastated.

He lets the rest of the family know and they all make their visits while Bruce wallows in despair. Normally he wouldn let it go, but he just can’t stand to lose Jason another time. So he decides to take Danny to court in the hopes of getting visitation rights if not split custody.

It’s one of the weirdest cases to hit the Gotham courts: two dads who were never together in any capacity but aren’t antagonistic of each other, are trying to come to a custody agreement over their adopted resurrected child in family court.

Over the course of the court case Bruce sees what a good dad Danny is and bonds with his two “bio” kids. Meanwhile Danny gets to meet Dick, Tim, and Cass (Bruce’s legal kids as of rn) and gets to talk to them about their experiences with Bruce and how much they want to form/reform relationships with Jason. They do form a healthy respect for each other, and accept each other’s places in Jason’s life.

Court case ends up working out in favor of Danny. It’s split custody but he gets custody of Jason majority of the time (as per Jason’s own wishes) and Bruce and the Wayne's still have partial custody and open contact with the Nightingales.

Over the years kids all start to see each other as siblings and both Bruce and Danny as their dads. By the time Damian shows up Bruce and Danny have been functionally co-parenting each others kids for years. They provide support to each other’s kids that the other parent may not be well equipped to, but helping each other improve.

When Damian does arrive his superiority complex is quickly curbed and Bruce puts him into counseling on Danny and Jason’s recommendation. It takes a while, but Damien slowly finally opens up and gets to act like a real kid. Ellie and Jordan, who are around the same age (maybe a bit younger?), love having him over to roughhouse and play princesses/knights/dragons (but with politics and consequences). Sometimes they’ll go out and trick people into thinking they’re triplets.

It’s actually Damien who first suggests parent-trapping Bruce and Danny so that they can be one big family. He obviously gets Dan and Ellie to agree first. Then the three of them bag Tim and Cass. The five of them approach Dick next. Jason is actually the hardest to convince but the manage to get his approval. Thus, these guys try to set up the Oblivious Danny and the Emotionally Constipated Bruce.

And for Flavor, just when it looks like they’re about to get together, one of their past love interests comes into the mix, re-entering their parents’ live just to stir the pot. (Which ex is up to your imagination: Sam, Talia, Val, Selina, Tucker, Wes, Minhkhoa, Harvey)

[ravenyenn19]

Kaz: Alright, so now that the plan is in motion, let’s move.

The other Crows, having no idea what plan is in motion nor where Kaz has been the last 24 full hours:

(under his breath)

kaz: no. no, you may not.

[hinamie]

もう一回、もう一回

[hisbucky]

Eddie: I did not summon a demon. Buck: Are you sure? Cause it says here in my contract that I'm supposed to be bound to you. Eddie: And what is that supposed to entail? Buck: Well, it's a bit like marriage - Eddie: Do you want my blood? My soul? I can give you anything except for my son. Buck, taken aback: Uh, well actually, I would be bound by my contract to protect your son - Eddie: Deal. Where do I sign, future Mr Diaz?

[inuhalfdemon]

Dirty Dealings (1/21)

Word count = 1,454 Words

Chapter 1: The Deal

“I do not deal in…sexual favors. I find them rather….distasteful. No offense, I hope. Still…” He sighed. “I find there are times it does need stated…” - Alastor

June 25th, 1950

New Orleans, Louisiana

She knew not to go into the forest. She knew even in the light of day, it held its monsters. Now - despite knowing this - in the fading half-moon’s light, she was running deep into its depths. Branches grabbed and tore at her, ripping at her clothes and tearing at her skin. Desperate, she wiped away at the tears that were streaming, blurring her vision.

Clouds skirted the black of night, dimming what was left of the dwindling moonlight even more. Her chest flared painfully from her flight, air rasping sharply into her lungs with each gasp. Stumbling, her feet slid into bog; warm, swampy water sliding over her knees and threatening to hold her fast to the sucking mud beneath. She struggled to keep her momentum, half-crawling up a slick bank of reeds and muck.

Trembling, she paused, pulling air into her burning lungs; feeling the throbbing ache of muscles all over. Pinpricks of light danced and sparked as blinking, she shakily rose from her knees and looked around. She couldn’t run anymore. She was very near to passing out as it was. Blinking again, she waited for the small bursts of light to separate themselves from the soft glow of skittering fireflies.

A cool breeze crept through the swamp and she felt goosebumps crawl across her skin; the hair on the back of her neck rising like hackles. A low groan came from the nearly complete darkness. A mass of shadow moved just beyond the bog; something both solid and hulking but spindly and frighteningly long in limb. Feeling all strength leave her body, she sunk to her knees; starring at the stark form that shifted against the dark of night. It was impossible to make out what was lurking directly before her but she could hear the soft tearing of flesh, the snapping of bones…

An involuntary noise crept from her throat and the thing’s form jerked, bright green eyes burning through the darkness to rest on her. Her heart was in her throat. Every part of her recoiled from whatever this thing was. But, this was it. Her last chance.

“…y-you…you’re a demon.” She gulped, steadying her voice. “I’ve come….I’ve come to make a deal.”

The thing made no move, it’s green eyes smoldering; she wasn’t sure if it was even breathing.

Clenching her fists, she screamed at it; “Well!? What are you waiting for!?”

The black mass shifted, moving ever so slightly toward her. Parts of the unnatural darkness caught a sliver of moonlight, and she thought she saw a quick impression of massive antlers moving among the limbs of surrounding trees. Before she could fathom more, a cool blackness enveloped her into nothing…

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sounds of the swamp came to her first; the creaking of crickets, the croaking of frogs, the soft buzz and fizz of dragonflies, the soft cooing of an owl somewhere beyond all of it. A flare of light shocked her eyesight and she blinked blindly against the blaze. A flame quickly dimmed, a surreal candle casting light across a small, bog meadow. The candle occupied an antique tea table that stood with two chairs beside it. Sitting at the table, sipping at a steaming teacup was a…..man?

No, he wasn’t a man. He was very tall and long limbed. He wore a vibrant red, pin-striped suit with stark black dress pants and the nicest shoes she had ever seen. Soft candlelight danced from a monocle resting at his right eye. Stranger still, he had red and black hair; styled rather uniquely into a bizarre haircut. He hummed softly to himself as he sipped his tea, seemingly unbothered by her quiet staring.

She blinked rapidly, trying to make out the odd hat he was wearing when he spoke, “My apologies, my dear. My deepest apologies. You caught me in the midst of a feed…the midst of dinner. Not my usual first impression I like for my potential clients to have of me, I assure you.” His voice crackled like it was being played from a radio.

While he was talking she realized he was wearing no hat. Atop of his head were what looked to be a pair of long….ears and even more absurd…a small pair of antlers. The ears swept smoothly with his movements and were even expressive in their placements. They were just like the ears…and antlers of a deer. Most disconcerting though was his smile…

He cocked his head, the smile growing bigger across his face.

“You are a potential client, aren’t you?” He said it like he was enjoying some private joke.

She shivered.

“Oh, where are my manners tonight!?” He exclaimed. “You’ll catch cold, darling. Here.”

His fingers snapped, there were bright sparks of green and she suddenly was dressed in dry, warm clothes and a hot cup of tea appeared at the opposite end of the small table, near the empty chair. Rising, he pulled the chair out for her, sweeping his arm dramatically to invite her to sit.

Slowly, she went to the chair. He slid it smoothly underneath her before going back to his own chair.

“Please. Enjoy.” He continued to smile, going back to his tea.

Her hands shook as she took the hot cup in her hands. It radiated heat and promised warmth. Bringing it to her lips, she sipped. Instantly, she felt her veins flare with a comforting heat and a burst of flavor flooded her mouth.

“I hope I got the spices, right.” He conversed. “The senses tend to get a little muddled when…well…” He shrugged, still smiling like he found humor in some subtle punchline.

“So….” He sipped from his cup. “You want to a make a deal?”

“Yes…” She breathed.

“Hmm…Interesting.” He smiled, almost to himself now. “Can’t say that I’m not terribly curious as to what you might have in mind.” He smiled fully at her now.

“I…” She started, “I’m not sure how to begin…”

He raised his eyebrows but said nothing, waiting.

“I need more time.” She breathed, waiting for him to respond. When he didn’t she continued, “So much of my life…it’s been wasted. I haven’t gotten to do any of the things I’ve wanted…need to do.”

She was having trouble finding the words.

“…I just can’t continue living the life I am now…”

“I see…” His smile glaring back at her. “What…terms have you considered?”

She was confused by the question briefly, then realizing what he was asking she dug into a pocket and was relieved to find it still within her possession. Carefully, she pulled the smooth wooden ring into the light of the candle and slid it toward him. Still smiling, he watched her place the ring before him, then looking at her he laughed lightly.

“Oh, I’m afraid this won’t do.” He picked the ring up between his index finger and thumb. His smile never faltering, his eyes tightened and the ring burst into a lick of green flame before disappearing completely. “Mere trinkets are of little use to me.”

She gasped, watching her one prized possession winking out of existence completely.

Swallowing, she persisted. “What terms would you prefer?”

His eyes softened, his smile never leaving his lips. “I’ve had my hand in a great many sort of deals.” He assured her. “As long as the terms are equally rewarding to both parties, I’ll agree to just about anything.”

“Except.” He emphasized. “I do not deal in…sexual favors. I find them rather….distasteful. No offense, I hope. Still…” He sighed. “I find there are times it does need stated…”

“What do you want then.” She said, her teeth clenching.

“Oh, I think you know.” He told her, his smile jeering at her now. “You knew I was a demon and you knew a deal could be struck with me.” He sat up straighter now. “What do you think I would want?”

“I won’t just give you my soul…” She said.

“And, I won’t just give you what you are asking for free.” He sneered. “You want more time? You want to go on and live happily and freely at your leisure with no obligation? No consequence? At the cost of something with absolutely no value to me. I decline.”

She stood up, her anger flaring in her desperation. She pressed her hands heavily onto the table, glaring back at his smug, smiling face.

“Then take my soul.” She snapped. “Take it from me when I no longer want it.”

His eyebrows shot up, his smile tightening, his interest piqued.

“Just…give me more time first. Let me live my life, do the things that I want and when I’m done…my soul is yours.”

He laughed, heartily.

Taking her hand, his smile twisting into a wicked snarl.

“Deal.”

And she was consumed in green.

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Chapter 2

[chaotic-orphan]

Febuwhump: Day Sixteen

Prompt: Came back wrong — (@febuwhump )

TW: possession, character death, coming back wrong, emotional Whump, deals with devils, blood, mention of blood, blood drinking, betrayal

*~*~*~*~*

Lover waited by Hero’s body, clutching their hand in both of theirs, head bowed and crying.

It had to work.

This had to work.

After everything they’ve been through, after being the Hero everyone loved — the stupid, self sacrificial Hero ready to save the world and never themselves.

Lover warned them. They warned Hero if they did something stupid, something they couldn’t come back from then Lover would do something equally — if not more — stupid than them.

Lover glanced up at Best Friend who stood at the wall beside the door, arms folded tight across their chest, head resting on the wall behind them. Best Friend met Lover’s eye and quickly looked away. Lover got a flash of their bleak argument from before…

“They will never forgive you if you bring them back!”

“I can’t live with them being dead.”

“And you think they’ll thank you for dragging them back into the same world that destroyed them?!”

“Please,” Lover whispered, resting their forehead on their hands over Hero’s. “Come back to me.”

Hero stirred in bed. Best Friend gasped, shifting forward at the movement. They had seen Hero be killed. The blood from the mortal wound still stained their clothes! This… this was wrong. This… Best Friend shook their head, tears pinpricking their eyes at the thought that their best friend wasn’t dead.

Lover lunged forward with a cry. “Hero?”

Hero let out a low moan, then opened their eyes. Lover reached over them, head over Hero’s heart and they heard it beating. Then the dam opened and Lover sobbed as Hero slowly stirred into consciousness.

“L…lover?” Hero rasped. A hand was in Lover’s hair, Hero’s hand and Lover cried harder. Hero’s eyes flicked to Best Friend who stood with their hands balled into fists at the sides. “Best friend? What’s— what’s—”

Lover leaned back to cup Hero’s face in their hands. “It’s okay. Everything’s okay! We’re okay, we’re all okay. You’re okay.”

Hero chuckled. “Of course I’m okay, just a couple of bruises as usual.”

Best friend stiffened but Lover leaned in and kissed Hero’s lips. Hero responded immediately, then let out a small whine and Lover got off them.

“Sorry… sorry, I’m just…” Hero said, clearing their throat. “I’m really… thirsty.”

“Water? Do you want water?”

Hero coughed and nodded. “Okay, I’ll be back.”

Lover quickly left. Hero looked at Best Friend when they got their breath back. “What happened?” They asked.

Best friend looked away, not quite looking at Hero as they replied: “you took quite a beating.”

“Yeah,” Hero said. “Must’ve. I don’t… I must have blacked out or something.”

Best friend swallowed. Hero frowned, then struggled to sit up. “What is it?”

“Nothing.”

Hero scoffed. “You’re my best friend, I know when you’re lying. Tell me, did something happen?”

Best friend screwed their lips up tight and turned their body slightly away from Hero. “Listen. We’re all okay. That’s what matters.”

Hero’s brows knit together in confusion. They just nodded, because they didn’t know what else to do as they tried to think about what the last thing they remembered was.

Best friend was there… Hero remembers seeing their eyes, seeing them cry and scream but what they said was missing, as if the world was muted.

Loved returned with water and a big smile. They crossed the room with two quick strides and sat at Hero’s side holding the glass to their lips. Hero smiled and wrapped a hand around Lover’s as they drank.

Hero drank the entire glass. Then frowned. Lover leaned into them. “Are you feeling better?”

“Yeah,” Hero lied, though the unquenchable thirst still lingered. They probably just needed more water but they were happy right now. Happy with Lover beside them.

Hero’s hand went to Lover’s and they brought it up to press a kiss to it. They were so happy… so overwhelmingly happy all of a sudden and they wanted to ravage Lover in every way possible to show them… to share with them their happiness. Hero didn’t know what happened but they felt great. So good.

Best friend jerked forward and took Lover’s hand from Hero’s and yanked them off the bed. Hero frowned, glancing up at Best friend and taking in the look of terror on their face.

“What’s wrong?” Hero asked in a voice that wasn’t their own, but that didn’t matter. Not when they felt like… like this. “Something on my face?”

“No,” Lover cried, shaking their head. “No! No, what’re you doing?! This wasn’t the deal!”

Hero chuckled in that foreign voice and stood from the bed. Best friend pushed Lover behind them and started to back towards the door, not letting Hero out of their sight.

“The deal… oh yes, the deal. Now I remember. Our deal was,” Hero said, matching every step they took back with one forwards. Menacing. Predatory. “If I bring back poor dead Hero, then I take over your heart.”

Hero grinned and spread their arms wide. “The terms of our deal are intact.”

“What?” Lover breathed. “No. My heart! Those were the terms!”

Hero chuckled again. Then they stopped and pressed a hand over their heart. “I have it, Lover. Right here. The object of all your love. Your heart is Hero’s, Hero’s is yours. Love… it can be a very complicated process for you humans to understand but don’t worry, I’ll take great care of Hero.”

“No!” Lover cried, but Best Friend was at the door now and shoved Lover out behind them. Best friend slammed the door to the room shut and turned to grab Lover’s hand and run.

“We can’t leave them!” Lover cried.

“We have to,” Best friend yelled, not letting Lover’s hand go as they ran down the stairs. “We have to warn everyone about what’s happening.”

They got to the door and Best friend skidded to a stop with a gasp, their eyes blowing wide. Hero smiled at the pair of them, tilting their head to the side.

“Leaving so soon?” Hero asked with a pout. Best friend swallowed hard. Hero cast their eyes to Lover. “I’m still a bit thirsty, Lover, would you mind?”

Best friend stepped in Hero’s line of sight, their lips curling back into a snarl. “Don’t touch them.”

“Ah. My best friend, you’ll do.”

Hero lunged for best friend and with inhuman strength and speed they ripped Best friend from Lover and slammed them against the front door. Best friend cried out as Hero stroked a finger down the curves of their throat.

“Just a little taste, it’s been so long since I’ve had fresh human blood.”

Hero didn’t leave best friend any time to process their comment before they sunk their teeth into Best Friend’s neck to the screams of Best friend and Lover. Hero smiled against Best Friend’s throat.

Oh yeah, they were gonna stay around with the mortals for a while.

[ima-super-natural]

I love how dead Dean's eyes look throughout this entire sequence. He was never gonna bury that body.

[maddymoreau]

Thinking about how Diavolo’s feelings transcend time and how in the Nightbringer UR+ card Demon Lord’s Castle Tour this conversation happens.

When asked, “Do you wish to see your father?”

Diavolo responds:

“I suppose I do . . .” isn’t the typical reaction to how a child would feel about wanting to see their parent. Especially when said parent has essentially been in a coma for a year.

Along with how Diavolo describe his father.

It makes more sense why when you learn in Lesson 56 how Diavolo was treated by him growing up.

Diavolo can tell when others are lying but is unable to understand his father’s intentions.

Diavolo mentions that he lived a very sheltered life growing up. That from a young age his father never allowed him a chance to talk to anyone outside the castle.

His childhood friend was Mephistopheles. A demon literally RAISED to be his friend. Putting a barrier between the two because Mephistopheles would put Diavolo on a pedestal.

The isolating childhood he experienced riddled with his strict father constantly scolding him.

Despite everything MC is so important to him he wants to see his father again so we can meet.