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justlemmeadoreyou · 10 months

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An Eternal Embarce*

(a hades!harry x persephone!y/n story)

in which Persephone is back after 6 months, and the Underworld blossoms once again. Tensions arise too, but there is nothing that the king of Underworld and Queen of Spring can't handle together

Word Count: 7.7k (she's long)

Warnings: 18+ content, two smut scenes, almost 3k words of filth, oral (f receiving, mentions of m receiving), unprotected sex

(please don't read if you are under 18)

(i worked really hard on this, please don't let it flop)

The Underworld was buzzing with excitement as Hades, also known as Harry, eagerly awaited the return of his beloved Persephone. It had been six months since she went up to the mortal realm, leaving him to rule the shadowy realms alone. The air in the Underworld seemed charged with an otherworldly energy, as if the entire realm was eager for the return of the goddess of spring.

As autumn's chill embraced the realms, the anticipation in the underworld grew. Harry felt a mix of excitement and longing as he waited for his queen's return. The portal shimmered, and Persephone, or Yn, stepped through, casting a radiant glow in the room. A soft smile adorned her lips, and the enchanting aroma of blooming flowers and the essence of spring filled the space.

As Persephone returns to the underworld, the atmosphere undergoes a subtle transformation. The dim-lit halls, once draped in shadows, seem to awaken with a newfound vibrancy. The air, usually heavy with an eternal stillness, stirs with a gentle breeze that carries a hint of blooming flowers and the sweet fragrance of spring.

The normally monochromatic landscape of the underworld begins to blossom with hues unseen during her absence. Delicate petals materialize, scattering across the paths she walks, leaving a trail of ephemeral beauty in her wake. The soft glow of luminescent flowers unfurls, casting a warm and gentle radiance in the once-shadowy corners of Hades' realm.

The underworld, typically shrouded in an eternal night, experiences a subtle shift in its cosmic arrangement. Faint glimmers of starlight twinkle above, mirroring the celestial display of the world above ground during her reign. It's as if the heavens themselves acknowledge her return, gracing the underworld with a beautiful celestial dance.

Hades, the lord of shadows, finds the weight of his kingdom momentarily lifted. The throne room, usually draped in a somber ambiance, basks in a soft, romantic glow. Shadows playfully dance with the ethereal light, creating a captivating interplay that mirrors the complexity of the emotions within the lord of the underworld.

The Underworld River, typically calm and placid, shivers with newfound life. Its waters, once still as the deepest abyss, ripple with a subtle current, echoing the pulse of Persephone's return. The reflections on its surface seem to shimmer with an otherworldly luminosity, mirroring the radiance she brings to this realm.

In essence, Persephone's return to the underworld transforms it into a realm of juxtaposition—a delicate fusion of darkness and light, shadows and blooms, where the eternal night momentarily gives way to the ephemeral enchantment of spring. The very fabric of the underworld seems to resonate with the romantic cadence of her presence, creating a symphony of emotions and atmospheres that dance harmoniously in the wake of her return.

Their reunion, though expected, carried the weight of a prolonged separation. Harry, usually composed, found himself at a loss for words, an uncommon sight in the Underworld.

"You're back," he said, relief and joy evident in his voice. He was beyond thrilled to see her safe and sound.

Persephone, also known as Y/N in the nine realms, nodded, reaching out to touch his hand. "I always return, Hades. It's the rhythm of the seasons."

"I missed you," he said softly. "I missed your touch, your smell, just having you around. It felt like forever without you."

Y/N smiled, showing how much she loved and missed him. "I missed you too, Harry. Every moment away felt like a really long time."

"I brought you these," she said, offering a basket of flowers. "Fresh from the mortal realm."

Harry accepted the gift with gratitude, inhaling the intoxicating fragrance. "Mortal flowers in the Underworld, a rare delight. Thank you, my sweet love."

He carefully placed the flowers on the bed and pulled her close, his hands cradling her beautiful face. They looked into each other's eyes, savoring the moment. After a while, Harry leaned in, capturing her lips with his in a sweet and long-awaited kiss.

The kiss was like magic. His lips moved smoothly and knowingly against hers, igniting a spark of desire in each other. His mouth claimed her pushing his tongue in her eager mouth. His hands shifted down her body, grabbing her waist, and pulling her further into him.

The absence of each other had stretched over time, intensifying the beauty of this long-awaited moment. It was as if time stopped, and it was just the two of them in that special moment.

Y/N let herself be handled by him, eagerly closing the space between them. She grabbed his shoulders, and her other hand went in his hair, pulling at it as she moaned into his mouth.

“God, you’re so beautiful” he whispered, fighting the urge to fall to his knees right then and there, and worship the beautiful goddess in front of him. Y/N smiled, looking up at her husband with passion and adoration.

Maybe he will.

“I want to worship you, my love.” He whispered into her ear, gently biting her earlobe. She shivered, her grip on his hair and shoulders loosening. She knew where this was going.

And she liked it.

“Mhm, but do we have time? I have to greet everyone as soon as I arrive”

He groaned, grabbing at her attire wantingly.

“That can wait, my love. They can wait. Right now, you’re mine. Only mine. And I want you. Your legs wrapped around my head, your thighs spread wide as I eat that sweet cunt of yours.

Her cheeks turned red, her mouth parting in an instant. She had been waiting for this too, to have his eager mouth on each part of her body, to become his, once again. And again. And again.

“I do too, my love. But-“

He brought a finger up to her lips, stopping her from finishing her sentence.

“No but’s or if’s. I want you, and I shall have you” with that, he grabbed her waist, turning them both around. His lips were back on hers, and he walked her backwards, till the back of her knees hit the mattress. With a swift motion, her body was thrown on it, her hair flopping down messily. Her chest bounced too, the tops of her breasts peeking out from the tight corset she was wearing. He licked his lips; he couldn’t wait to have his mouth on her heavenly body.

He flopped down on the bed, once again, stealing a quick kiss on her lips. His hands gripped the bottom of her skirt, slowly and steadily riding it up her legs.

Y/N’s breathing increased rapidly, and she gripping the satin sheets beneath her in her palms to keep her composure. It had been mere moments of kissing, and she had already gotten so wet and needy for him.

Once the skirt was up to her waist, he wasted no time in removing the rest of the clothing, her panties included. They had a wet patch in the middle, and Harry smirked, fully aware of the effect he had on her, how he can get her all dripping down for him without even touching her.

“So wet fo’ me, my love” he said, and she gulped. He was staring at her exposed pussy with hunger in his eyes, and she felt exposed, trying to close her thighs.

His actions were quicker, and he gripped the warm flesh in his hands. Spreading them wide, he glared at her, and she nodded, silently promising to not hide herself from him.

He slid to his stomach, gripping her legs in both his hands. He shifted forward, allowing her to rest her ankles on his shoulder, the heels digging into the flesh.

He stuck his tongue out, keeping eye contact with her, as he licked a bold stripe from her ass to her clit, collecting her wetness on his tongue. He then closed his mouth, her sweet taste evading his senses.

She released the sheets from the death grip she had on them, and held Harry’s hand in hers, squeezing it hard. He went fully in then, licking up all of her arousal as if it were his last meal.

He licks up her pussy again, and again, and again. Her arousal seeps out more, her other hand creeping its way down to grab into his curls.

Harry realizes she wants more, and he spreads her pussy open. With an open mouth, he blows air on her clit, making her whimper out loud, before she takes her bottom lip between her teeth.

“Y’ like that, pretty girl?” he asks rhetorically, and he starts to lick on her clit, teasing her entrance with his finger.

She moans pretty above him, as his licks become faster and concentrated. Her mind reels with pleasure as her pussy becomes wetter. He circles her opening with his finger, before gently pushing one in.

She releases a sigh of relief, as his cold finger pushes into her warm, wet hole. He pushes it in fully, before pressing a soft kiss to her clit.

He begins to finger-fuck her slowly; her moans and whimpers music to his ears. She opens up soon, and Harry pushes in another. Two fingers in her pussy, and her face contorts in pleasure as she senses the beginning of an orgasm.

“You feel good?” he asks, increasing the speed of his fingers into her weepy hole. He brings his mouth back down on her, kissing and licking her puffy clit. Her grip on his hair tightens, her moans becoming louder with each thrust of his long fingers, rubbing against her g-spot with ease. His fingers, and cock especially, reached spots inside her that she didn’t even know existed.

“I do…I do-Oh fuck!” she curses, as he brings his thumb on her clit, rubbing slow circles on it. Her legs tense, her back arching off the bed beautifully as her stomach tightens. She closes her eyes, her orgasm approaching at a pace faster than she had anticipated.

That’s when he does it-pushed one more finger in, and then one more. Holding her thighs wider as he drives them into her with full speed. Her legs shake as she screams and moans, a thin layer of sweat covering her forehead.

“Harry-I-I’m going to cum, Harry-“ she barely finishes her sentence, before the coil in her stomach snaps. She cums all over his mouth and fingers, chanting his name repeatedly as he finger-fucks her throughout, his thumb and mouth on her swollen clit, wanting to make her orgasm last longer, and to milk every drop from her sweet cunt. He licks it all up, and once she is finished, he emerges from between her legs, half of his face coated in her sweetness.

He looked up at his love, her eyes closed with content. Her face was glowing with the beautiful glow of pleasure, her cheeks flushed red. He couldn’t take his eyes off of it.

Soon, she opened her eyes, and Harry quickly shifted upward, encasing her lips in his. She could taste herself on him, and she sighed at the sweet taste lingering between them.

But, just when they were getting lost in the moment, there was a knock on the door. It was a reminder that they weren't alone, and other things needed attention.

Harry sighed and said, "Seems like we can't catch a break, love."

“We’ll be right out” he announces, before kissing her once again. They both get off the bed, and he helps her fix her dress and appearance, though the smell of sex lingered in the air, and their faces gave away what they tried to hide.

He opened the door soon, and was greeted by Hermes, the winged herald of Olympus.

"Lord Hades, Lady Persephone," Hermes bowed respectfully. "Zeus has requested your presence in the divine hall."

Harry exchanged a knowing glance with Y/N. The tranquility of the moment was momentarily interrupted by the summons from the king of the gods.

"We shall go at once," Harry replied, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his expression. Hermes nodded and, with a swift motion, extended a scroll containing Zeus's message. "He awaits you in the divine hall. The matter is of importance, my lord." Y/N placed a reassuring hand on Harry’s arm. "Whatever it is, we'll face it together."

With a nod to Hermes, Harry and Y/N made their way through the grand halls of the Underworld, the weight of impending divine matters settling upon them. The anticipation of a summons from Zeus carried an air of both mystery and gravity.

The divine hall awaited, its doors opening to reveal Zeus on his throne, regarding them with a mixture of sternness and intrigue.

"Lord Hades, Lady Persephone," Zeus boomed, "You come at my request. There's a matter that requires your attention."

Approaching the throne, their expressions composed but curious, Harry inquired, "What matter brings us before you, Father?"

Zeus leaned forward. "Concerns have risen among the gods about the balance of power and the changing dynamics within the divine realm."

Y/N exchanged a puzzled look with Harry. "What do you mean, Father?"

Zeus sighed. "The union between the god of the Underworld and the goddess of spring has stirred discussions. Some are concerned about the potential shift in the cosmic balance."

Harry defended their union. "Our love brings harmony to our realms, Zeus. It does not disrupt the balance."

Zeus raised a hand. "I understand, but the concerns persist. To ease them, I propose a grand celebration—a gathering of gods and goddesses from all realms. A feast that will demonstrate the unity and stability of the divine order."

Harry realized the significance. "We shall host it in the Underworld, a testament to the enduring love that transcends realms."

Zeus approved. "May this celebration reaffirm the bonds that unite us all."

As the divine decree echoed, Harry and Y/N embraced the responsibility. The grand celebration would showcase not only divine unity but also the eternal reunion of Hades and Persephone.

The long table was adorned with decadent delicacies from all corners of the realm - ambrosia platters, pomegranate salads, and sinfully delicious desserts that would make even the gods drool. The atmosphere was filled with laughter and stories as loved ones reunited after what felt like an eternity apart.

Amidst this joyous gathering, Harry proudly introduced Y/N as his queen and partner in ruling over the Underworld. She charmed everyone with her warmth, grace, and genuine interest in their stories. Laughter echoed through the halls as they shared tales of adventure, love, and mischief.

As the night wore on, Harry and Y/N found solace in each other's presence, basking in the love of their family and friends. The Underworld was alive with happiness and contentment, for it was a reminder that true love could thrive even in the most unexpected places.

And so, as the stars twinkled above their kingdom and laughter filled the air, they embraced this precious moment of togetherness. Their reunion was not just a celebration of love but a testament to the power of connection and the beauty that can be found in even the darkest depths.

And then, as the feast reached its crescendo, Hades rose from his seat and raised a goblet to Persephone. The flickering torchlight cast shadows on the grand walls as Hades spoke, his words a heartfelt declaration.

"To Persephone, my queen, the light of the Underworld, and the love that has breathed life into the realm of shadows. May our days be filled with endless joy and our nights with eternal love."

The denizens of the Underworld echoed his sentiment with cheers, toasts, and a sense of jubilation that reverberated through the grand hall.

Persephone blushed, her eyes sparkling with gratitude. "To eternity and beyond," she said, clinking her goblet against Hades'.

After the feast, the grand hall echoed with soft footsteps as Harry and Y/N headed to the starlit garden. The celestial lights bathed the garden in a magical radiance as they stepped into the night.

Taking Y/N's hand, Harry led her into the open space beneath the twinkling stars. The night held a hushed beauty, and they danced to a celestial melody, a seamless harmony between the lord of the Underworld and the goddess of spring.

Standing at the center of the divine garden, bathed in the soft glow of moonlight and surrounded by fragrant blossoms, Harry and Y/N prepared to dance. The celestial lights above seemed to twinkle in anticipation, casting a gentle radiance on the couple as they took each other's hands.

Harry, with his customary charm, looked into Y/N's eyes and whispered, "May I have this dance, my love?"

Y/N's heart fluttered with love and adoration as she nodded, and they began their dance under the vast expanse of the starlit sky. The music of the night, a melodic symphony composed by nature itself, set the rhythm for their movements.

Harry guided Y/N with grace and tenderness, each step a declaration of the unconditional love that bound them together. The soft rustle of their clothes blended with the gentle night breeze, creating a harmonious melody that resonated with the heartbeat of the beautiful garden that bloomed with her magic.

"I've missed this," he confessed, the dance a gentle rhythm that echoed the beating of his heart.

"Me too, Harry," Persephone replied, her gaze locked with his. "There's something magical about dancing with you in the Underworld."

As they danced, Hades couldn't resist stealing kisses, each one a promise of the love that transcended the realms. The river Styx murmured its approval, and even the shadows seemed to sway in time with their movements.

"You know," Persephone said, her voice a soft whisper, "I wrote you letters while I was away. I wanted to capture every moment so I could share it with you when I returned."

Hades felt warmth in his chest at her words. "Letters? I would love to read them, my love."

Persephone blushed, a delightful contrast to the vibrant flowers in her hair. "They're not very poetic, just my ramblings and musings. But I poured my heart into them."

In that enchanted moment, Hades and Persephone were not the lord and goddess of the Underworld. They were two souls intertwined in a dance celebrating the eternal nature of their love. The grand feast had united the divine family, and now, beneath the cosmic lights, the couple celebrated the unity of their hearts.

They moved in sync, their dance the unspoken language of love. Harry's hand securely held Y/N's waist, drawing her close, while Y/N rested her head on his shoulder, feeling the comforting warmth of his embrace.

The garden itself seemed to respond to the dance of love. Blossoms unfurled in their wake, releasing bursts of vibrant colors that matched the emotions swirling between the couple. The gentle hum of nature's lullaby accompanied their every movement, creating an atmosphere of serenity and joy.

The dance continued a journey of shared dreams and whispered promises.

As the dance reached its crescendo, Harry held Y/N in a final, lingering twirl. They paused, caught in the embrace of the night, and shared a tender kiss beneath the celestial lights.

“I love you so much, Y/N. So fucking much. “He whispered, and his face carried softness and love rarely seen on Lord of the Underworld. He was different when he was with her.

He was in love.

Y/N muttered the same, her lips ghosting over his once again. They softly brushed against each other, pecking every once in a while.

Hand in hand, they walked through the garden, leaving behind a trail of blossoms and the echo of their laughter.

Hand in hand, they ventured through the winding corridors of the Underworld. As they reached the Elysian Fields, the once desolate realm began to transform in Persephone's wake. Flowers bloomed beneath her feet, and the atmosphere blossomed with life.

"You've worked your magic again," Hades remarked, marveling at the vibrant beauty she brought to his kingdom.

Persephone grinned, her eyes sparkling. "I can't stand the idea of a lifeless Underworld. Besides, a little color never hurt anyone."

They found a secluded spot overlooking the river Styx, where Hades conjured a plush blanket for them to sit on. The soft glow of the river reflected in Persephone's eyes as they gazed at each other, a magnetic pull connecting their souls.

"Tell me everything about your time in the mortal realm," Harry urged.

"And you won't believe what Hermes did to entertain me," she laughed, recounting a particularly amusing anecdote that involved the mischievous messenger.

Hades chuckled, reveling in the sound of her laughter. "I'm starting to think Hermes enjoys causing chaos wherever he goes."

The moon rose higher in the sky, casting its gentle glow over the Underworld. Sensing the time was right; Hades took Persephone's hand, leading her into a slow dance beneath the celestial light.

Later, as they sat together on the blanket, Persephone retrieved a bundle of letters from her bag. Hades watched with eager anticipation as she handed them to him, each one filled with the essence of her experiences in the mortal realm.

For hours, they immersed themselves in Persephone's words, her descriptions painting vivid images of the world above. Hades listened intently, savoring every detail as if he were there with her. The letters became a bridge between their two worlds, connecting them even when miles apart.

As the night deepened, Hades couldn't help but express his feelings in the best way he knew how—through a poem, despite its potential lameness.

"In the depths of shadows, where silence holds sway,

A love blooms eternal, no darkness can betray.

Persephone, my light, in the mortal realm's embrace,

You brought back the sun, and with it, my grace."

Persephone's eyes sparkled with emotion. "Harry, that was beautiful. Lame, but beautiful. I love it."

Hades chuckled, a twinkle in his eyes. "I aim to impress with my poetic prowess."

The moon hung high in the sky, casting its silver glow over the Underworld. Hades and Persephone lingered in each other's arms, the world around them forgotten. It was a moment frozen in time, a testament to the enduring love that bound them together.

>>>

As soon as they were back to the castle, they couldn’t keep their hands off each other. Sure, they were divine beings above human urges, but they couldn't deny the magnetic pull that drew them together.

They entered Harry’s room, closing the heavy wooden door behind them. The room was dimly lit by the soft glow of candles, casting flickering shadows on the stone walls.

Their lips were on each other, now kissing with more lust and desire. Harry had been pent-up ever since he’d had his head between her plush thighs, and her moans, her whimpers, and her ultimate release had almost made him burst in his pants.

But he had held off.

Even he doesn’t quite recall how he did it, perhaps some “celestial” power he didn’t know he had.

He began by untying the strings on her white corset, so many of them there were. She could see that he was getting restless, and she spoke up, “You know you can use your magic, right? Make them disappear in a click of your fingers?”

He chuckled, looking up at her while he continued the task in hand, “I sure can, my love. But I want to see the way your body reacts to my touch when I undress you. The way your cheeks becomes red as part by part, your beautiful body is exposed to me. The gasp you release when I unhook your bra, and the whimper that comes from your lips when I rub your pretty pussy over your wet panties, which I know they quite are. I want to see it all”

Y/N blushed, unable to keep eye-contact with the god in front of him.

Soon, the corset was undone, and Harry removed her long gown. He reached back, swiftly unhooking her bra, and throwing it behind him. His hands were on her breasts, and he groaned as he kneaded them in his hands.

“So long, darling. So long I have gone without your body” he bent down, rolling a nipple between his fingers before taking it into his mouth. He flicked his tongue over it, eliciting a whimper from her pretty mouth. He squeezed it in his palm, between his fingers, as he continued sucking on the hardened nub. His other hand trailed to her left breast, kneading it too while he rolled the nipple harshly between his fingers.

“Harry-it feels so good, fuck…” she cursed, pressing her thighs together as more and more arousal oozed out of her needy hole. She whimpered and moaned with need as he played with her breasts, alternating in kissing, sucking and biting them. He sucked a few bruises on them too, just around the areola, not too much in the areas where they could be seen by others.

Once he was satisfied with his work, pretty bruises that would turn purplish-red soon, he looked up at his love. Her head was thrown back, lips parted as she was getting wetter by each passing second.

Harry’s hands rested at her waist, and she opened her eyes, meeting his green ones.

He joined their lips again, and started to kitten lick and suck her tongue, while his eager hands explored her body. He drifted his hands to her damp centre, brushing his finger over the damp spot on her panties, just above her clit. She moaned into his mouth, and e swallowed it all up, before bringing his fingers to the waistband of her panties.

He broke the kiss, quickly dropping down to his knees before her. He pulled the ruined panties off her legs, unhooking them from her ankles and throwing them near the discarded bra.

She was now fully naked before him, and she wanted to hide herself. Given that he had already seen her a million times like this before, given their immortal nature, and yet, being this vulnerable made her shy.

She tries to close her legs before him, hide her pussy from his hungry eyes. He smiles, knowing that she must be feeling so shy, given how much time they had spent apart.

“It’s okay, love. I know it’s been a while, and you’d feel exposed being fully naked around me. But you don’t have to, love. Not from me. You never have to be nervous or shy around me. Naked or not, any way you are, you are absolutely ethereal. And divine”

She felt a sense of relief hearing those words. Being a goddess, she knew she was one of the most beautiful and stunning creatures to walk in the Underworld. Her ethereal form radiated a timeless beauty that transcended mortal comprehension. And she was the most confident when she was out in the world. Her words, her beauty, all were elements that captivated those fortunate enough to witness her presence. The ethereal glow surrounding her form seemed to dance in harmony with the confidence that emanated from within.

Yet, here she was, feeling exposed and shy in front of her own husband, who was on his knees in front of her, ready to worship her.

“And yet, if you don’t feel comfortable enough, dove, we don’t have to do this. It’s all right. We can-“ she stopped him mid-sentence.

“No, no-I-I want to, Harry, it’s just-the way you looked at me made me feel-like I’m not that beautiful as you tell me I am.”

“You are, my love. You are absolutely exquisite, my darling. And I’m going to show you just how damn breathtaking you look around my cock.”

“But-how?” she asked.

He smirked, before snapping his fingers. A long, floor length mirror appeared behind him,, making her look at her own reflection.

“But, Harry-“

“No questions, love. You had your fun throughout the day, now let me have mine”

He parted her legs, immediately attaching his mouth to her swollen clit. She released a moan, his mouth doing wonders between her legs.

He licked and sucked, and licked her pretty pussy till she was a moaning mess again, whimpering with her bottom lip between her teeth. Her cheeks were flushed red, eyes full of lust as she watched herself reach the high of pleasure.

Her chest had reddened, and eyes were hooded, threatening to fall shut with the sheer pleasure consuming her. Her hands were in his brown curls, pulling and pushing his head to her core at the same time, conflicted between the need to succumb to the upcoming pleasure or to pull away from it.

But, just as she was about to fall over the edge, he stopped. Pulled his mouth off of her, making her release a cry of need.

“Harry-I-I was so close-“

“I want you to come around my cock, darling. Want to see you fall apart as I fuck you”

He got up, knees wobbly. He started to undress himself, removing each piece of clothing while maintain eye contact with Y/N.

She was still coming down from the high he’d almost got her to, her breathing still rapid and ragged. Soon, he was naked in front of her, pushing her back on the bed on which she fell with a soft thud.

She sat up on her elbows, and he pulled her so she was sitting upright. He climbed on the bed behind her, and sat down.

With fingers still damp, he pushed her thighs apart wide, spreading his own as well and locking hers with his, so she couldn’t push them again.

She sighed as her pussy spread open, revealing her pretty hole to the gigantic mirror in front of them.

He took hold of her wrists, pinning them together behind her back.

“Keep ‘em there. Don’t move”

He warned.

And she knew better than to disobey him.

“Okay” a quite whisper, but he heard it well.

“Good girl”

Her pussy throbbed with need, her neglected clit swollen and red. He brought his hands to her thighs, lightly grazing them with his fingers. He rubbed his hands up and down, smoothing them up to the part where her centre meet her thighs, and retreating back, neglecting the place where she needed him the most.

“Harry-please” she begged, hoping he will give in and fuck her senseless.

“My rules tonight, darling” he answered simply, and she had no choice other than to sit pretty and take it.

His torture continued for quite a while, and she was so tired from his edging, her head resting limply on his shoulder. She would get excited whenever he would graze her clit, only to get disappointed immediately after.

When he decided that he had had enough, he finally gave in. She was so fucking wet already, soaking the satin sheets beneath them with the arousal that dripped down continuously. He brought two fingers to her entrance, gently pushing them in while he played with her perky nipples, twisting them while stuffing her full.

“Oh fuck, Har-“ she cursed, her walls immediately clamping down on his two fingers. She tried to move herself on him, grind on his fingers, but he held them apart nicely, stopping any movements.

“Feel good?” he asked, pinching her nipple as he stuffed his fingers fully in, gently flicking the tips inside her tight walls.

“Mhm, yes, feels good-fuck!” he pushed another finger in, thrusting them in and out at a godly speed. She scratched his chest, nails scraping down his abdomen. She was feeling so good again, ready to burst at any moment.

That’s when he stopped-again. Pulled his fingers out completely. And just as she was about to open her mouth and whine about it-he pushed them into her mouth.

She moaned around them, sucking and licking off her own sweet arousal. He groaned at this, feeling so impossibly hard that he thought he will burst again.

“That’s it-good girl” he pulled them out, wiping them on her stomach. She smirked, knowing how she had imagined it was his cock between her lips, and made him imagine the same too.

Her on her knees before him, his hands in her hair, gripping them harshly as she took him like a pro. All those filthy thoughts muddled his mind, and he couldn’t hold back longer.

He turned her around easily, pushing her back down so her back was on the mattress, and he climbed on top of her. His lips attached to her neck, licking and sucking as he spread her legs apart with his hand, positioning his cock just before her lips.

Parting them with his one hand, he released a sigh of relief as he pushed himself in, her warm walls feeling so heavenly around his cock. He had held off for so long, focusing on her pleasure more than his. But now, he was going to fuck her good, make her see stars as she came around her cock again and again.

She grabbed onto his shoulders, nails scratching their way down as she felt the initial burn of his cock stretching her wide open. She tried to keep her composure, but how good she, when it hurt so good and felt even better at the same time?

He gave her time to adjust to his length, not trying to overwhelm her with bottoming out immediately. Once she was, she gave him a quick nod to keep going.

That was all he needed, as he carefully pushed in to the hilt, bottoming out inside her as his balls slapped with her ass. She wrapped her legs around his slim waist as he grabbed her wrists, pulling them from his shoulder and pinning them above her head.

“Gonna fuck you real good today” he promised, snapping his hips against hers. His cock drive into her warn hole again and again, making her throw her head back with pleasure. He took this opportunity and kisses and nipped at her neck, her jaw slack with pleasure. The bed started to rock against the wall due to the force of his thrusts, her slick folds coating his cock with arousal every time he pushed in. She was impossibility wet, and on the verge of falling over the edge.

“Oh my god!” she whimpered out when he gave a particularly hard thrust, her legs shaking with pleasure. His hands wrapped around her neck, slightly putting pleasure as he forced her to open her eyes.

“Look at me when you cum” he said, and she immediately nodded, not wanting to risk any other orgasm because of disobedience.

But she was disappointed quickly as he pulled out again, leaving her on the edge. She had been so pent up. and now on the verge of crying.

He picked her up, turning her around to face the mirror, on her hands and knees. They were shaking profusely, so he had to slide an arm beneath to support her pliant body.

“Look at me when you cum. In the mirror” he grabbed her jaw and positioned her face so she was forced to loom at herself, her body succumbing to pleasure that he gave her.

Every push of his cock in her melted her further and further, breasts jiggling with the force of his harsh thrusts, again and again.

“Har-please” she pleaded, not being able to hold off for any longer.

“Yeah, baby? You want to come?” he asked.

She nodded, not being able to form any coherent sentence, she was about to fall over the edge, just needed that little push, just a little…

He seemed to have read her mind because as soon as she thought of that, his fingers were on her clit, harshly rubbing concentrated circles, enough to take her fall over the edge she was teetering on.

“Watch yourself. Look how pretty you look falling apart on m’ cock, darling” her eyes quickly drifted to the mirror in front, and indeed, he was correct.

Her cheeks were flushed red , her face glowing as she released warm puffs of air through her open mouth. He was filling her up so good, pressing against the soft, spongy spot deep inside of her that made her toes curl and eyes to roll into the back of her head.

The obscene sounds of skin slapping against skin filled the room, her moans and whimpers, and his grunts audible above them all. He gripped her hips harshly, nails digging in as he prepared to spill himself inside her.

“I'm close too…” he announced, and leaned in, wrapping his hand around her middle. He pulled her neck so that her back touched his clammy chest, the change in positioning giving him a deeper angle.

“Harry-Oh fuck!” she immediately gave in, her legs giving out beneath her as the waves of pleasure rolled through her body, blinding her vision and ringing her ears. His hand on her swollen clit was relentless, and so was his speed of fucking her through her orgasm.

“Harry-har-feels so fucking good, har” she stuttered, mouth open as she watched herself come undone on his cock. A warm glow enveloped her, and she looked absolutely breathtaking. But, her eyes were fixated on her Harry, who was just about to cum.

His eyes were closed shut, low grunts leaving his lips with each thrust as he gave in, and the first few drops of his release coated her walls.

“Fuck, baby. Making me feel-so-fucking-good, Fuck! His words were punctuated with thrusts to her cunt, spilling more and more of his milky cum with each push inside.

“Cum for me, Har-give me all you have” her soft voice egged him on, as her warm walls milked him for all he had. Once he was done, he gave her a final look in the mirror, before falling down on the bed, taking her with him.

In the hushed aftermath of their intimate celebration, Hades and Persephone lay entwined in the ethereal glow of their chamber. The flickering candlelight cast a warm hue over the room, a testament to the love that had just been shared. The echoes of their whispers lingered, blending with the quietude that enveloped the space.

Hades traced delicate patterns on Persephone's bare back, his touch a caress that spoke of both passion and tenderness. Her hair spilled like a cascade of midnight over the pillows, and the moonlight filtering through the window bathed them in a soft, celestial radiance.

The room seemed to respond to their connection, as if the very walls held the echoes of their shared love. The air shimmered with an otherworldly energy, and the shadows on the walls danced in tandem with the rhythm of their hearts.

As they lay there, the tapestry of their shared history unfolded in their minds—the challenges they had faced, the laughter they had shared, and the quiet moments that had solidified their bond. Hades couldn't help but marvel at the depth of emotion Persephone brought into his life—a depth that went beyond the confines of the Underworld and stretched into the boundless expanse of eternity.

Their connection, both physical and emotional, created a cocoon of intimacy that shielded them from the outside world. The grandeur of the Underworld, the echoes of the banquet, and the responsibilities of ruling—all faded into insignificance in the embrace of their private sanctuary.

As the night deepened, they spoke of dreams and aspirations, of the moments that had left an indelible mark on their souls and of the endless possibilities that awaited them in the expanse of eternity. The bedroom, once a quiet space, became a canvas for their shared reflections and whispered confessions.

In the quiet moments between their words, Hades couldn't help but be grateful for the cosmic tapestry that had woven their fates together. Persephone, once a fleeting vision in the mortal realm, had become the heartbeat of his existence—the one who brought warmth to the depths of the Underworld and a symphony of joy to his immortal heart.

And so, in the heart of the Underworld, where time moved in a rhythm known only to gods, Hades and Persephone continued their intimate celebration. The moon hung low in the sky, its silvery glow a witness to the depth of their connection.

As the night wore on, they found solace in the quiet moments of shared laughter, whispered promises, and stolen kisses. The room became a haven, a sanctuary for the love that had endured through the ages. Their connection, both physical and emotional, became a testament to the enduring power of love in the face of eternity.

And as they drifted into the peaceful embrace of sleep, still entwined in each other's arms, the echoes of their shared celebration lingered in the air. The Underworld, once a realm of shadows, held within its depths a love story that unfolded in the quiet moments of the night—a love story destined to resonate through the corridors of eternity.

>>>

One day, as they stood on the shores of the Styx, Hades couldn't help but ponder the nature of their love. "Persephone, my queen, do you ever tire of the Underworld? Would you prefer a life in the mortal realm or on Mount Olympus?"

Persephone looked into his eyes, a soft smile playing on her lips. "Harry, it's not about the realm we're in; it's about the love we share. Whether in the Underworld, the mortal realm, or the heavens above, as long as we are together, that's where I belong."

Hades felt a surge of gratitude and love for the woman standing beside him. "You truly are my light in the darkness, Persephone."

Their days were filled with laughter, shared adventures, and stolen moments of intimacy. Hades reveled in the simple pleasures of mortal-inspired picnics, where they lounged in the Fields of Asphodel, surrounded by the beauty Persephone had brought to his kingdom.

As the seasons changed, and the tapestry of time unfolded, Hades and Persephone's love deepened. They faced challenges together, weathered storms, and celebrated triumphs. The Underworld, once a place of solitude and shadows, became a canvas for their love story—a story that echoed through the corridors of eternity.

In the quietude of the Underworld, where the river Styx whispered ancient secrets, Hades and Persephone found a love that transcended the boundaries of the realms. And as they danced under the eternal moonlight, their hearts beat in harmony, creating a melody that echoed

Through the ages, their love story continued to unfold, a tale woven into the fabric of time itself. The Underworld bore witness to the eons that passed, yet Hades and Persephone remained a constant, their love enduring like the everlasting cycle of the seasons.

They explored the hidden realms of the Underworld, discovering forgotten chambers and secret passages. Hades showed Persephone the intricacies of his kingdom, the responsibilities and duties that came with ruling the dead. Yet, through it all, their love remained a guiding light, illuminating the darkest corners of the Underworld.

One day, as they stood on the precipice of the Abyss, where the echoes of lost souls reverberated, Hades spoke of his deepest fears and vulnerabilities. Persephone listened with compassion, her love a balm for the wounds that time had etched into his immortal heart.

"I never imagined I could share my burdens with another," Hades admitted, his voice a low rumble that echoed in the cavernous space. "But with you, Persephone, everything feels different. I am not alone."

Persephone took his hand, her touch comforting warmth. "We face the challenges together, Harry. Your burdens are mine, just as mine are yours. We are partners in this journey through eternity."

Their love became a beacon in the Underworld, a source of inspiration for lost souls seeking solace. Tales of Hades and Persephone's enduring love spread through the realm, offering hope to those who had long forgotten the warmth of companionship.

As the years unfolded, they witnessed the rise and fall of civilizations in the mortal realm. Hades and Persephone, however, remained unchanged, their love an eternal flame that defied the ravages of time. They watched as mortal heroes rose to greatness and tragic tales unfolded, the threads of destiny weaving a tapestry that stretched across the ages.

In the midst of it all, Hades and Persephone continued to find joy in the simple pleasures of life. They reveled in the beauty of the Underworld's landscapes, danced under the light of a thousand moons, and discovered hidden realms that held secrets untold. Their love was a journey, an exploration of the boundless possibilities that eternity offered.

Yet, even in the midst of their idyllic existence, challenges arose. Forces from the depths of the Underworld, ancient and formidable, sought to disrupt the delicate balance of their love. Hades and Persephone faced trials that tested the very foundation of their connection, but in each trial, their love emerged stronger, more resilient.

Together, they faced adversaries and overcame obstacles that threatened the harmony of the Underworld. Hades, once perceived as a fearsome deity, revealed the depth of his compassion and the strength of his love. Persephone, with her gentle yet unwavering spirit, became a beacon of hope for all who traversed the shadowy realms.

Their love story, once confined to the whispers of the Underworld, became a legend that transcended the boundaries of the mortal and immortal realms alike. Mortals sang songs of their enduring love, poets crafted verses in their honor, and artists immortalized their images on canvas.

As the centuries passed, the Underworld transformed into a realm of balance and harmony. The once desolate landscapes bloomed with vibrant flora, and the river Styx flowed with a gentle serenity. Hades and Persephone, hand in hand, continued to rule the Underworld with grace and wisdom, their love a testament to the eternal dance of life and death.

>>>

any feedback, like or reblog is always welcome!

okay-dokey! this was a request by @victoria-styles!

i hope you like it!

my masterlist

taglist: @freedomfireflies @gurugirl @thechaoticjoy @styleslover-1994 @gem1712 @ellaorchard @bxbyysstuff @opheliaofficial07 @rafaaoli @tchlamqtsgf @the-mouse27 @indierockgirrl @vrittivsanghavi @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @drewrry @babyiamperfectforyou @me-undiscovered @tbsloneely @whoreonmondays @kathb59 @avalentina @kittenhere @speedywritingharrystylesjudge @mypolicemanharryyy @theendx888 @ladscarlett

let me know if you want to be added or removed!

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harleehazbinfics · 7 months

Text

Mine, all mine.

a lucifer x reader fanfiction.

inspired by this ask: link

wc: 1728

warning: suggestive themes!!

a/n: sometimes i wish i could just give the program my brain and let it write itself. my ass is not suited for writing at extensive periods of time in one sitting.

You were a sinner, made to rot in hell for all of eternity until exorcist end your miserable souls. However, you refused to lead that fate. You disliked how other demons would underestimate you just because of how weak and fragile you looked, especially with your wings. So, you improvised, you took this to your advantage, eventually one-by-one overlords toppled over from your powers, becoming your servants or souls you feasted on. You never sought to purge sinners or become an overlord in the process for that matter, it was just that you heavily disliked being underestimated by these narcissistic souls, that you couldn’t help but put them in their place.

After decades of doing the same thing over and over again, you decided you wanted something different to do, other than manipulating and devouring retched souls all the time. With Alastor’s recommendation, you find yourself in Hell’s Hazbin Hotel, a hotel that aims to rehabilitate sinners and help them go to heaven. You didn’t oppose to the idea and if there would be sinners that find this their calling, then you’d like to support them in their endeavors, unlike your pal Alastor. Besides, it would be a free meal if some jackass just wanted to stir up some trouble with both of you around.

So, that’s what you led you here to this moment.

“—and this is (y/n), our other host, they’ve been helping with the hotel just a few months ago, despite being a busy overlord and all,” Charlie introduces you to each other.

“It’s a pleasure to meet the King of Hell himself. How do you do, my lord?” you greet with a polite smile after dipping your head in acknowledgement.

However, everything flew past Lucifer’s head when he saw your figure. You had a pleasant aura with an angelic face paired with bright beautiful wings that had him thrown in a loop. You had a kind and gentle gaze, lips a luscious shade of pink and cheeks full of life. You were simply ethereal—you didn’t look like you were from hell. You perfectly fit the standard for heaven’s angels and their winners.

“Uhh, dad?”

“Yeah, huh?!” Lucifer startles awake from his daydreaming and pays attention to his daughter. Finally realizing he was on a balcony with Charlie and Vaggie, a long way from where he was lost in thought.

“So, what do you think?” Charlie asks expectantly holding her hands together.

“Uh, yeah yeah. They look great. Say, who was that little friend you had there down there, are they also an angel?” he asks straightforwardly with a finnicky undertone.

“What? (Y/n)? No, they’re an overlord here in hell and our host. Didn’t I already say that?” Charlie replied starting to get annoyed with her dad.

“Oh, I see. They were just very beautiful looking, especially with those wings. I almost certainly thought they were an angel,” he rambles.

Vaggie and Charlie look at Lucifer stunned as Charlie starts, “What? Are you--? No, wait, dad we’re getting sidetracked. I meant the hotel! What do you think of it?!”

Then Lucifer goes on a tangent on how sinners could never be redeemed, and that they were vicious people who misused the gift that he gave them leading them here in hell. Before Charlie could fully give on getting her cause across to her father, a crash interrupts them.

They teleport downstairs and see a bunch of loan sharks barging their way into the hotel.

“Everyone! Get somewhere safe! I’ll handle this,” Vaggie yells readying her spear.

“No, my dear, leave it to me. It's time I remind everyone why I am here,” Alastor announces transforming into his demon form.

You chuckle unfurling your wings flying close to him, “Don’t forget about me.”

Lucifer ultimately shuts his mouth as he watches you dive headfirst towards one of the sharks stretching your hand out to grab their faces. You slam him roughly on the ground as his strength drains from his body. The longer you placed your hand on him the more his body crumples and dries, slowly wilting away from your touch. Leaving behind a red pulsing orb, you unhinge your jaw wrapping your tongue around it before swallowing it whole.

Lucifer’s stomach drops to his feet from the realization of his misconception of you, but he undoubtedly receives a hard-on as he can’t help but sexualize your actions. Wondering how it would feel wrapped around your long tongue and enveloped by your lips as you swallowed all of him.

He smacks himself across the face to rid himself of his thoughts and fixes his eyes on you and Alastor finishing up your massacre and dusting yourselves off. As he sees you both banter playfully, he couldn’t help but be reminded of his irritation for the male and comment towards Charlie.

“Mhm, you see? What'd I tell you? Charlie, sinners are violent psychopaths, hell bent on causing as much pain and destruction as they can. There's really no point in trying.”

She angrily huffs and yells at him, “Dad! Stop! He's defending this hotel! It may be a bit more sadistic than I'd hoped, but he's doing it for me! How come he can have faith in me, but my own father can't?”

His face crumples as he realizes his mistake. Here was his daughter trying to realize her dreams but couldn’t even support her ideas and aspirations. He was no better than those elders that shunned him away for his dreams. He finally comes clean to Charlie and apologizes to her. Finally supporting her dream and agreed on setting up the meeting for her.

But before he teleports away, he glances at you which you only responded with a light smile and nodded your head at him appreciating his help. He couldn’t help but be expectant of the next time you’ll meet again. He wished that Charlie would give him a call again soon.

The next time you met was when the angels attacked the residents of the hotel. When the matter was settled, all of you—including the help you gathered from Cannibal Town, celebrated your win in the now more spacious hotel.

While the lot of them gathered sharing drinks on one side, he saw you by yourself on the other side. He stands next to you with a grin, tapping your shoulder and asks, “This seat taken?”

You get startled from his action unfamiliar with people touching you so casually and give a flustered answer, “N-no! Please have a seat.”

He chuckles as he sits next to you, noticing how you scooted a little further away from him. He feels saddened when he was trying to be close to you, but you pull yourself away from him. He couldn’t help but comment, “You don’t need to be so distant. I’m just trying to get to know you better.”

You give him a smile and wrap your hands around your drink before answering, “Sorry. I’m just not used to people trying to come close to me at this distance, with my powers and all.”

He tilts his head cutely making you giggle and continue, “I guess Charlie didn’t tell you. I have the powers to drain demon’s powers. The longer I touch ‘em they die, and their soul becomes mine.”

He lets out a sound of understanding and mutters, “So that’s what that was.”

You look at him with you chin on your hand on the counter looking at him in interest. “Have you been watching me, your majesty?” you couldn’t help but tease.

You were not disappointed as you watch his face turn red as he fumbled with his drink while he tries to reply, “W-well, I couldn’t help but admire how strong you were. Either in a fight or just casually talking to you, you just seem to be so confident that I can’t help but keep my eyes on you.”

“You’re beautiful,” he finishes with a dreamy sigh.

“Are you hitting on me?” you ask complemented with a seductive smile.

His breath hitches as he realizes what he did, as he panics trying to save himself, “I mean! Please don’t take this the wrong way! I was just admiring— whoops!”

He accidentally drops his drink in his flustered state, with both of your fast reflexes you caught the glass together. His hand covering yours, he tilts his head not noticing anything different with himself as he holds you.

Meanwhile, you hastily place the cup down on the counter and fretted over him, “Are you alright? Are you unwell anywhere?”

“No, I’m fine. I don’t feel much different actually,” he says looking at his hands.

You sigh in relief not expecting this man to throw you off your loop. You’re so composed all the time that having this man in your proximity just destroys your braincells with how cute and charming he was.

“Actually, can we do that again?” he asks with a serious look, to which you hesitantly accepted locking your hands together for a while. As time passes on without much progress to his experiment, the more your cheeks turn into a bright shade of red that he finally catches on to.

“What’s go you so flustered all of a sudden, angel?” he teases squeezing your hand a few times egging you on.

You cover your cheeks with your other hand and tightly held his hand to make him stop, “I’ve never held hands with someone before.”

He smirks inching closer to your face, feeling his breath on you as he tried to memorize every part of you with half-lidded eyes, “Never been this close with a handsome bloke before?”

You stand from your seat, evidently towering over him from the sheer height difference then caging him in his both of his hands above him as you pinned him to a wall behind him.

“Never. Would you like to change that?” you whispered by his ear, earning a shudder from him.

“Bet,” he grins letting his forked tongue slither out of his mouth introducing itself to you while letting himself loose and held your waist. “Let’s go somewhere quiet.”

As the two of you disappeared from the group’s sights, Angel drunkenly yells, “OH, SHIT! LUCIFER’S GETTING SOME ASS TONIGHT!”

“Ewwww,” Charlie cries in disgust not welcoming the thought of his father fucking someone in her brain.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin angel dust #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin charlie #hazbin husk #hazbin lucifer #hazbin vaggie #alastor #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar #lucifer magne #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer

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akystaracer22 · 6 months

Text

The Exception to the Rule

Synopsis: How far do you bend your morals for someone you love?

Notes:

This is definitely a turning point to the story and is a little jump ahead of everything so far.

From here on out, there will be two different types of oneshot, flashback oneshots which happen either in Heaven or in Eden, and present day oneshots which are primarily in Hell.

This also adds a new epithet to Adams repertoire! Technically.

There are OC’s in this one, I can’t avoid it.

Heaven politics! Theres a lot going on in heaven I can’t talk about because nobody in hell knows about it, but I can finally start talking!

I listened to More than Anything, Connor’s Main Theme, and Gladiator while writing this.

In exchange for starting the extermination early, the one after would take 18 months as opposed to 12.

I have named over 60 exorcists. If you see a reference no you don’t.

Vaggie wasn’t the first angel to show mercy to a sinner.

I drop so much fucking lore in this jesus fuck.

This one shot was supposed to come so much later.

Shit

SO, MICHAEL’S INVOLVED NOW!

Hey uh, you know how I said I can’t write stupid characters? Yeah… Adam can act and think like a damn general now ig.

Adams over 6,000 years old he knows how to move quickly.

... I really like my BAMF characters huh.

Word Count: 1862

Fic under cut!

“Adam?”

“Over here Luci,” The first man replied easily, looking towards where the angel had entered the wastelands.

Well… wastelands was a bit of a stretch now.

Once he was able to improve the soil, grass was able to finally start growing and…

The oak tree Adam was taking a break under was a testament to his labour. It was still growing and would probably take another year or so with the help of Lucifer’s magic before it’d resemble the mighty trees most people knew.

It didn’t make Adam any less proud of it.

The fallen angel got up and stretched his wings as Lucifer rounded a crag and came into view.

One of Adams wings hiked up before he could shove the instinct down, it was just Lucifer.

“Charlie wanted to know if you wanted to come up for lunch or if you’re fine down here,” The devil started, “She and Maggie are making pastries from the pear’s you dropped off yesterday.”

“Vaggies baking? Better hope your daughters good then, Vaggie’s got a tendency to burn whatever she touches.”

Regardless, Adam started making his way towards the hotel, completely disregarding the unspoken offer to just teleport there.

Lucifer just laughed and unfurled his wings as Adam began the trek up the stairs, flying up beside the man.

“I doubt you have room to talk about when it comes to cooking.”

“I helped Eve cook you know,” Adam scoffed, “I had a few specialties of my own.”

“And yet Maggie can’t cook.”

“Oh, shut the fuck up, plenty of my daughters can cook! Lux is extremely good at dessert foods and Needle can make some great fucking lunches.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes really! It’s Mari you have to look out for. The presentation of her food? Stunning, beautiful, gourmet even. The taste? I thought I was going to die a second time over the toilet.”

Lucifer cackled and a light chuckle escaped Adams lips as the angel almost fell out of the sky at the mental image.

“Shut up! I’m serious I thought I caught some sort of illness! They don’t even have illnesses in heaven!”

“I would pay to see that!”

“I bet you would be you sick fuck.”

“Hey! I-”

Lucifer went dead silent, and Adam almost asked what was wrong before he heard it too.

Shouting.

He didn’t even glance at his friend as they were both caught in Lucifer’s magic, bringing them both to the hotel lobby.

“I’ll stop the fight.”

“I’ll grab my fucking axe,” Adam headed down the hallways until he found the gym, carefully taking his axe off the wall and slinging it over his back before booking it to the hotel exit.

“If you’d just give me a minute-!”

“Your majesty-”

“Alastor.”

“Mom!”

“Oh for fucks sake!”

Adam slammed open the doors and jumped the stairs, “What the fuck is going on-!”

Adams brain short circuited immediately after taking in the situation.

Lucifer was frozen stiff with his wings spread wide, his head whipping around to stare open mouthed at Adam. Alastor and Lilith’s glaring contest was broken as they also stared at the first man. The princess and Vaggie were holding hands and Charlies demonic traits receded at Adams arrival.

The other residents were also still at the first mans arrival, nervousness and surprise evident in everyone expressions, even Nifty stopped moving. Under normal circumstances Adam’s gut would have twisted from all the attention.

That usual knee jerk response was completely crushed under the weight of the other three present.

Adam was barely aware of the fact that he’d dropped his axe as he took in the maskless faces of three of his exorcists.

Echo almost dropped her scimitars; her hair was undone from it’s usual bun to brush against her shoulders. She almost stepped back from him before a wing from her sisters steadied her.

Delta was much more graceful, sheathing her rapier and swallowing thickly; Adam understood how she felt. She’d recently had a haircut, her undercut looking crisper than the last time he saw her.

Nina’s war pick clattered to the ground as she brought her hands to her mouth, tears cropping up in the corners of her eyes as she took in his ruined form. In contrast to Delta, her hair had grown out; the normal buzz cut fading.

Adam stood in the silence, wings slowly folding in from where he had mantled them prior. He didn’t know what to do. These were his girls, and they were here and fuck, they were outnumbered. But… shit they were here to kill him weren’t they.

“…Sir?”

Fuck it.

The first man sprinted forward; wings spread wide as he reached out for the three of them. Weapons hit the ground as he pulled his kids into a hug.

If he was going to die, he’d like to die hugging his girls.

Adam didn’t expect the three of them to hug back. His shoulder grew wet as Nina’s tears started to fall; Echo made a soft noise as she buried her head in the feathers of his good wing. Delta’s wings were touching the tips of his own as she all but collapsed into the huddle.

Huh, seems like they were all mad here.

Adam didn’t give a fuck; he was hugging his exorcists and that was enough for him at the moment.

“So… we’re good?”

Moment over.

Adam pulled away to glare at Lucifer, “Do you fucking mind?”

“Sorry sorry! I’ll shut up now!”

“No, you’ve ruined it. Moments gone and done thanks to you,” Adam huffed, regretfully stepping away from his girls even as he kept his good wing extended to the three exorcists, guiding them by the wing towards the hotel.

“Come on, I have a feeling you three aren’t here just for show.”

- - ┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈ - -

Adam blew lightly on his tea before sipping it, leaning forward to pour the exorcists some tea as he worked to calm his still slightly frayed nerves.

He’d managed to move the girls into a private room before unceremoniously kicking everyone else out, if anything happened Lucifer would break into the room in a flash, so it wasn’t like he was in any real danger.

Besides, they were his girls, it’d be fine.

“So,” Adam swallowed, before “What brings you three to this side of the pentagram? The hunts not on for another eight months.”

Echo swallowed thickly and Nina bowed her head, it was Delta who answered.

“I- Netto discovered that heaven knew you were alive, sir. Lute wanted to come down immediately but the rest of us were able to convince her otherwise.”

“She’s too far in the eyes of the high seraphim, if she disappeared they’d know.”

“So, we decided to go instead,” Nina finished for her sisters.

Adam stared at the three of them, horrified, “What?”

“What Nina’s saying is… we’re staying here.”

“Why the fuck would you three do that!” Adam hissed, feathers bristling at the implications, “You all have so much to lose-”

“We don’t,” Delta asserted, scowling at the window, “You know damn well what hells denizens took from us.”

Adam froze as the image flashed into the forefront of his mind.

Charlie. Echo and Delta’s missing piece to their trio. They were best friends even beyond the bonds of sisterhood. Where one was the other two were close by. Charlie was the sunshine to their storm, always taking time out of her own day to brighten up the other exorcists. She preferred to use a crossbow to keep away from sinners, something Adam was always grateful for.

Charlie’s body was missing several ribs and most of her organs, looking every part like it had been ravaged by monsters. It took effort Adam didn’t have every day to not go to cannibal town and raze it to the ground. For Charlie, for Zirco, for Steel, for Feather and Annie and every exorcist he failed.

Even-

A scream, a plea as Adam struggled against divine magic nononono please stOP PLEASE-

Wasp

Adam whole body tensed up. Fuck, Wasp. He hadn’t- shit he’d almost managed to convince himself that that had never-

Fuck.

The girls were looking at him now, Nina reaching out a hand to him.

“And you?”

The hand pulled away, “What?”

“Nina, why did you decide to come down here,” Adam rasped, “You- fuck you were planning on proposing to your girlfriend why-”

“Because your our leader,” Nina answered quietly, like she wasn’t taking Adams breath away with a single sentence, “And Regina understood, she agreed with me.”

Nina held up her phone with a sad smile, “Besides, at least this way it’s easier for me to watch out for her dad.”

Adam wanted to send the three of them back to heaven immediately, this was no place for angels. Vaggie was lucky she found Charlie immediately.

But Delta and Echo had backbones of steel, and once Nina set her mind to something there was no stopping her.

Shit, Netto and Lute were smart to send them.

Wait-

“What did you mean when you said heaven knew I fell Delta,” Adam whispered, “I should have fucking died. How did Netto find out I fell.”

Delta sighed and gazed tiredly at him, “Same way she always finds things out, she got it straight from Michaels lips.”

Adams blood froze before his mind caught up with him. Michael was involved with this. Fuck of course he was it was Michael, and if he was involved… then it stands to reason the rest of the ancient archangels had something to do with all of this too.

The first man stood up before pausing, if his gut was right, this wasn’t just about his fall. For the ancient archangels to be aware of his fall and do nothing for ten months… there was something he was missing.

He’d need to wait, maybe even bring Lucifer and the others in on this. But first…

“I’m in room 2101, Lucifer’s wing. 2100 is taken by the king of hell himself and his wife but the rest of the floor is empty,” the three exorcists perked up at Adams commanding tone, “Get set up and get settled in. Echo, send a message to the others and tell them I’m okay.”

“Already done.”

“Love that, Delta how is training looking?”

“Lute’s leading the effort sir, we’ve been working hard to fix our holes.”

“Great, get back in contact with Lute. I have a few techniques that can help. And for fucks sake tell her to use whatever prosthetic she has to her advantage; I fucking know she’s not.”

“Yes sir!”

“Nina, keep an ear out. Both for anything Netto has for us and for anything in hell. Carmilla Carmine, and the Vees are important. Especially Carmine, she’s the one with the angelic steel. Do not engage.”

“Go it sir.”

“Good, I’ll get you three for dinner. Remember, stay sharp, stay armed, and whatever you do. Don’t fucking trust the Radio Demon. He’ll kill everyone in this hotel the moment he’s off his fucking leash.”

The leader of the exorcists watched the three of them head down the hallway towards the front desk before turning and heading for the stairwell.

He had a lot to think about, and from the looks of things he still had an extermination to plan.

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mad-aims · 9 months

Text

Shower thoughts for Good Omens 3:

Imagine if there’s a part where Crowley needs to get to heaven ASAP, to desperately rescue Aziraphale. He jumps in the Bentley, adds a miracle to it (like Aziraphale did to Madame Tracy’s moped that one time) and shoots off like (a twisted metal lemon from hell) Top Gun’s Maverick, only in a Classic Bentley. (Chitty Chitty Bang Bang only wayyyyy cooler)

Then suddenly! He needs to go faster and the Bentley won’t make it!

He opens the car door, wind blowing his hair and clothes around and then leaps out, large majestic, black wings unfurling suddenly and he soars! Blazing through the sky like a shooting star. Just in time to catch Aziraphale who has been thrown out of heaven and is falling fast. Bonus points if at this point it’s playing Spread Your Wings.

Then Crowley is all like “It’s alright Angel, I’m here now and I’m never leaving you again.”

Aziraphale is all like “Oh Crowley!” 😍

Also the Bentley is fine. She’s just flying around in the sky in circles happily like a dog chasing its tail.

Another part what would be cool to see is, maybe there’s like a big fight with Heaven and Hell on Earth, let’s say the Metatron is all villain era and all the humans Crowley and Aziraphale have met and had interactions with in the two series are there to help, and they’re down to dire straits. Aziraphale is all like “Right that’s it! I’m going to do something, but I need you all to close your eyes. This is beyond human comprehension and might get very, very bad. Close your eyes now and I’ll tell you when you can open them again. Be not afraid. Please trust me, I’ll protect you.”

They close their eyes and then he walks in front of them all, goes all final form bitch! Turns into his full on biblical horror angelic form (all the eyes) and a huge bright light shines from him.

Behind him you hear “Angel!”

Then Crowley steps up, he also turns all final form also glowing a very bright light. (Maybe in a different colour? Black light? I dunno)

And they kind of hold hands, (Do Eldritch horrors have hands?)

Well the lights merge together and they form an even brighter, white light that enshrouds everything.

Bonus points if so far in the series Crowley hasn’t called Aziraphale angel at all yet. Also more bonus points if there’s a distinct sound of nightingales singing in the background.

Then they both proceed to kick Metatron’s and whoever else’s ass.

#good omens #season 3 #aziracrow #aziraphale x crowley #crowley x aziraphale #ineffable husbands #mad-aims shower thoughts

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cgsf · 10 months

Text

Men's Hockey (RPF) fanfiction recs:

Patrick Kane/Jonathan Toews [Part 2]

"I'm beyond your peripheral vision (so you might want to turn your head)" 🔒 (E) by anonymous | 3,418 | It takes the combination of prospect camp, training camp, and their first week on the road together for Johnny to realize Patrick is his soulmate. The first person he calls is Dan.

"red lips, so kissable" 🔒 (E) by anonymous | 3,569 | When Pat had finally come to him with this after six months of dating without things imploding, he'd been hesitant. "I just.... I think about making myself pretty sometimes," he had said, blushing. "Like a girl."

"crash into me" (E) by fadeastride | 3,403 | And that’s not some chick. That’s fucking Pat.

"Make The Moves Up As I Go" 🔒 (E) by agirlnamedfia | 30,354 | Patrick has his first Econ 202 class on the second day of the spring semester. It doesn’t exactly go well.

"Sommeil" (M) by MJBadger | 1,622 | Jonny being weird about public bathrooms and lots of sleepiness.

"let it all unfurl" 🔒 (M) by poeelektra | 2,545 | "Brooklyn is not Bumfuck, Tazer. And, you know, irony noted, seeing as you're from Winnipeg." "Whatever," Jon says darkly, punching fists into his jacket pockets like there’s some satisfaction to be had in stressing the seams of their linings. He doesn't care where Brooklyn is—if it belongs to this city, he's already made up his mind about it. "You're paying for the cab ride. There and back." Sharpy just laughs like Jon has told a good joke. "Sure thing, Tazer."

"and it's over, and i'm goin' under" (E) by mockturtletale | 15,011 | And that’s the story of how Kaner finds himself slumping down to the floor against his best friend’s front door, shaking a little and half covered in goosebumps. Sporting a semi and fighting the urge to cry.

"kiss and tell" 🔒 (T) by sloom | 2,169 | “Trust me,” Sharpy says, “this will be good for you.” And then, he shoves Jonny into what appears to be a mostly empty coat closet and slams the door shut behind him. “What the fuck, Sharp!” Jonny calls, pounding at the door which is, of course, locked. “Enjoy your seven minutes in heaven, Tazer,” Sharpy singsongs. Then, the bare bulb mounted on the ceiling flares to life, illuminating one Patrick Kane. Fuck.

"i don't play hard to get (i play to get you hard)" 🔒 (E) by sloom | 4,666 | Jonny starts out in twink porn - of course he does, he’s nineteen, all big dark eyes and delicate features. He never planned on being a porn star, it just sort of happened. He got injured and lost his hockey scholarship and, well, everyone has their story about how they got into porn. Jonny needed the money. Simple as that.

"left standing in the wilderness downtown" 🔒 (M) by poeelektra | 4,051 | They’re friends, though that’s always felt like a watered-down word for what they are, teammates and halves of a whole and things that are too big for language. Jonny’s his person, is all.

"anxious like the ocean in a storm" 🔒 (M) by poeelektra | 4,169 | “Did you know Savvy and Larmer combined for 220 pts in ’87-’88? Last week I watched them pummel the North Stars, a 6-point night for Savvy, with a hat trick.” He leaves off how his eyes were glued to the screen watching the two of them, because Jonny has no poetry in his soul. It just made Patrick wonder—about their futures, if what everyone’s saying is true, what it’ll be like to go all the way like he thinks him and Jonny can do—and the wondering gave him goosebumps.

"Okay, So Now You're a Vegetarian" 🔒 (M) by anonymous | 33,854 | Patrick Kane secretly decides to go vegetarian. Jonathan Toews draws the wrong conclusions.

"Good Times Never Seemed So Good" (E) by juliusschmidt | 21,171 | Johnny is a miserable bastard. Kaner is a needy fuck. They are meant for each other and also for summer on Mackinac Island, fratbro paradise.

"Media Vita In Morte Sumus" 🔒 (T) by jezziejay | 2,556 | Life is standing on the observation deck of the surgical theatre when Death finds him. “Nobody called for the grim reaper,” Jon says without turning around. There’s a soft snicker from behind him. “I’m omnipresent, I don’t need to be called.”

"I Could Dream of Ways to See You, I Could Close My Eyes to Dream" (M) by Frosting50 | 2,686 | Jonny’s head falls back against the metal stall divider with a resounding thud. He keeps making these small punched out grunts, even as he bites his lips in an effort to keep quiet. He has zero desire to get caught by some homophobic Jets fan while he’s getting his dick sucked in the men’s room at the MTS Centre, but -- Jesus Christ -- this kid has a mouth on him.

"Go, Johnny, Go" (E) by juliusschmidt | 4,387 | Jonny gives Kaner a ticket. To the courthouse. Kaner gives Jonny a ticket. To the love shack hockey game.

"don't look up, down, or to the side" 🔒 (M) by hazel | 8,282 | His mom had told him not to fall in love with houses; so had his dad, made some crack about them being worse than women, son, while his mom fake-punched him in the arm and then added, "and like people, it's what's underneath that matters, Johnny." But this is the first house he's looked at that he's liked, though he doesn't know why: it's got narrow, pointy windows with stone pieces on the tops like eyebrows, and it sits between its larger, tidier, neighbours like a poor cousin. Johnny thinks it maybe just needs someone to love it; and then he thinks: fuck.

"Let It Be" (E) by juliusschmidt | 60,127 | There’s one person who knows more about Pat than Brisson, one person who’s closer to discovering Pat’s secrets than his mom, one person who always, always, calls bullshit on him: Jonathan Fucking Toews. And following the launch of the Sun-Times article, which runs with the unfortunate headline “Patrick Kane Admits He’s Not God,” Jonny does not disappoint.

"Power Balance" (E) by thisissirius | 13,476 | The body of the email just says, “don’t fuck seguin” because Jonny doesn’t know what capital letters are and he’s a controlling asshole even when he’s miles away, and attached to it is a spreadsheet that Patrick reluctantly opens. It’s color-coded with tabs and he’s not sure whether he wants to punch Jonny in the mouth or laugh in his face. Calling him in the middle of the airport is a really bad fucking idea and Patrick knows something about those, so he settles for sending Jonny a message. YOU SENT ME A JERK-OFF SCHEDULE FOR SWITZERLAND?!

"break me in" (E) by thundersquall | 5,386 | Today Patrick comes into the locker room, shrugs off his coat, and underneath he's wearing a fucking tight tee that clings to every dip and curve of his musculature. It looks fucking painted on, and the sight of it slams Jonathan like a puck to his face, stunning and somehow primal and just bordering on the edge of obscene, how good Patrick looks in that.

"the high road is hard to find" (M) by anonymous | 11,304 | Patrick guesses this is his “third strike, you’re out” in the Jonathan Toews friendship book and he doesn’t know how to remedy that. He doesn't think he deserves the chance, to be honest.

"you look so perfect" 🔒 (E) by tarcanza | 4,270 | His eyes land on Jonny, and his rage chokes in his throat. Dries right up and flips on a dime like a fucking chemical reaction. Jonny’s lying on his stomach in the middle of his bed, reading a book. He’s in nothing but those stupid, tiny black boxer-briefs, stretched tight over the swell of his ass. One side’s jacked, fabric pushed up so that his cheek’s just hanging out all casual, fucking taunting Patrick.

"easy does it" (E) by robokittens | 2,137 | Jonny tips his head forward, rests it against Patrick's shoulder. "You got this, baby," he whispers. "You can take this; you were made for it. Made for me." It doesn't even feel like dirty talk, just like the truth.

"The Scars That Words Have Carved" 🔒 (E) by Linsky | 15,694 | “Forgive me for asking, Peeks,” Sharpy says, slowly. “But did you just kiss our illustrious captain, here?” “Um.” Patrick’s not sure what this captain business is about, but: “Yes?” Jonny’s still staring at him like he’s grown four or five extra heads, and, okay. Patrick definitely read this wrong.

"Wide Eyes" (E) by Tedda | 44,832 | When he starts hooking up with Patrick, Jonny slowly begins to realize a few things about himself.

"a hot summer night" (E) by Tedda | 5,267 | Patrick arrives in Arizona on a hot summer night. He hasn't talked to Jonny in five years, and it would have felt weird to do it over the phone for the first time.

"Dress Well, Test Well" 🔒 (M) by Kerfluffle | 9,649 | A liberal arts college AU.

"Streets of Chicago" 🔒 (E) by TheNorthRemembers | 79,749 | Patrick is 29 years old when he finds out he is HIV positive. Patrick is 29 years old when he realizes that despite giving up everything for hockey, he still might lose it over one stupid mistake, one careless, reckless night.

"blue eyes, velvet lips" (E) by Tedda | 10,356 | Prince Jonathan finds a runaway slave. Clearly, the only solution is taking the boy home.

"Wide Eyes" (E) by Tedda | 44,832 | When he starts hooking up with Patrick, Jonny slowly begins to realize a few things about himself.

"It Must Be Something in the Water" 🔒 (E) by allthebros | 40,228 | After five years away, living on the west coast, coming to terms with his sexuality, Patrick comes back to his coastal hometown to be with his family again and to start working at his dad's dealership, determined to get his life back on track, to leave behind all emotional messes and complications. But on the first morning of his return he meets Jonny, his sister's new boyfriend, and falls hard in lust with him, throwing an enormous wrench in his plan.

"Sleepless in Chicago" 🔒 (E) by sahiya | 4,894 | “Babe,” Jonny said, “how long has it been since you slept?” “Three nights,” Patrick said.

"Muscle Stim" 🔒 (E) by sahiya | 7,672 | The last thing Patrick needed was a stupid crush on the dude whose job it was to get him back out on the ice as quickly as possible.

"Didn't Know That Was a Thing" 🔒 (T) by AnythingThrice | 1,303 | Patrick notices it as he's searching the shelves in Jonny's bedroom for Madden 08: a weird glass sculpture, glossy black with bands of a trippy, swirling white pattern that seem to sit just under the surface. He figures it for a knickknack at first, some art piece his decorator suggested or—more likely—one of those locally-and-sustainably crafted souvenirs Jonny tends to bring back from his vacations.

"Not Something You Rub in (Just) Anyone's Face" 🔒 (E) by AnythingThrice | 6,736 | "Don’t wanna talk about it," Patrick cuts in, voice firmer now. As far as he's concerned they'd done all the necessary talking back in April. Offseason rules – offseason lives – set and followed and fucking done. World Cup over. Summer gone. Long past time to get back to the good stuff: friendly ice, Blackhawks hockey and being first star in Jonny's eyes.

"Shitshow" 🔒 (E) by AnythingThrice | 19,989 | Jonathan thought they'd outgrown this. Or no, if he's being honest with himself, he thought Pat had outgrown it while he'd merely shoved it aside, banished it to the realm of things it didn't help to dwell on.

"Fill Up Your Mouth with Something Sweet" 🔒 (E) by Linsky | 3,904 | The amazing thing, Jonny reflects after a couple of months with the Blackhawks, is how Patrick Kane manages to be such a good hockey player and yet so wrong about everything.

"the whole of him" 🔒 (E) by allthebros | 2,258 | Patrick did nothing else for this moment but live with inconvenient erections since they talked about doing it, only showing up at Jonny’s door in sweats and a t-shirt and his morning-long semi he’d made sure to trap in the kind of tight underwear that would make Jonny proud. Well fine, Patrick also did some video research. Watching review tapes is important. But Jonny--fucking Jonathan Toews--he got ready for this.

"What It Means" 🔒 (T) by allthebros | 1,312 | They’ve never been like this with each other before. He doesn’t know if it’s the sun, being away from Chicago and their lives, or just them finally being able to have this, but it catches inside Jonny’s chest. Little swoops in his stomach that surprise him every time, make it hard to breathe.

"Tell the Stars I'm Coming Home" 🔒 (E) by allthebros | 15k WIP | Jonny and Patrick have three weeks left to live. Three weeks to find their way back to each other.

"La Piscine" 🔒 (E) by allthebros | 2,484 | Pat didn’t think it was possible, but if anything, Jonathan Toews has gotten hotter since Pat saw him last summer. It’s kind of a bummer that they don’t go to the same college, but Pat appreciates the surprise. He doesn’t know what’s in the water up there in Montreal, but God Bless Canada.

"S(t)ick" 🔒 (E) by allthebros | 2,842 | “What’s gotten into you, man,” Jonny says, softly. The ‘you’ is on Patrick's lips before he can realize he’s thought it, hysterical laugh bubbling into his throat at the cheesiness of it, the disgusting idiocy, but instead he says, “it’s this heat, man, I can’t—” Think. Sleep. Fucking drink a beer like normal. Look at Jonny and see what he used to see.

"Shawty With You" 🔒 (E) by allthebros | 6,764 | 5 times Pat and Jonny needed mistletoe to kiss, and one time they didn't.

"134 Days" 🔒 (E) by allthebros | 3,406 | It's been a long winter without him.

"Nothin' But Blue Skies" 🔒 (T) by allthebros | 2,708 | Perhaps the middle of Wisconsin wasn't the right place to tell Jonny.

"Sonoran" 🔒 (T) by allthebros | 2,177 | Somewhat newly retired, Patrick makes his way to Arizona where Jonny's ostensibly getting his own shit together. It's summer in the desert, and it's been too long since they've seen each other.

"Just to Break My Own Fall" 🔒 (M) by Linsky | 9,092 | Patrick used to play a game with himself, when he was younger and considerably dumber: see how close he could get to Jonny, for how long, and not do anything to give himself away.

"trouble when you walked in" (T) by tourdefierce | 2,253 | The only thing more confusing than Twitter is Patrick Kane. Thankfully, Pat keeps Jonny busy enough that the former doesn't even matter.

"farmer au" (E) by anonymous | 13,940 | “No offense, man, but who steals a bunch of corn? It’s not really in short supply around here?” “It’s or-gan-ic,” Jonny says, pointedly drawing out each syllable. Deputy Kane clearly doesn’t fucking get it. His corn is probably full of pesticides and fertilizers.

"Loosen Up My Buttons (Babe)" (E) by tourdefierce | 4,848 | Tazer is always pushing him to be better—little psycho that he is—so it doesn't surprise Pat when he finds himself looking at a too tense, wound up Jonny and saying to himself, "Someone needs to fuck that douchebag silly". And then obviously high-fiving himself because heyoh, that's totally his job.

"High and Tight" (E) by tourdefierce | 2,609 | Jonny Toews gets a hair cut.

"the quiet between us" 🔒 (M) by tarcanza | 13,852 | There are screams. Thousands of them. Thousands of people. Claps, chants, cheers of victory. It should be loud. But it’s not. Here with his face hidden in the curve of Kaner’s neck, it’s not. There’s only Kaner. And Jonny wrapped around him, never letting go.

"(All My Life I've Been) Burdened by the Dreams" 🔒 (E) by Linsky | 30,170 | Patrick has two goals for himself when he comes to Chicago: Win the Stanley Cup. And don’t let anyone find out he’s a wolf.

••••••

This list is ongoing.

#fanfiction #fan fiction #fanfic #fic recs #mens hockey rpf #patrick kane x jonathan toews #1988

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medics-secret-shipfic-folder · 1 year

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Concept Art for The Master, The Seventh Disciple

The Master, The Seventh Disciple - The Wicked Hand of Ruin. The Rotten and Depraved. Heaven's Usurper. The Master is a vessel of untold destruction and vice, said to be capable of wiping out entire civilizations with a single wingbeat. He is the ultimate evil, acting as the Wicked Hand of the King of Ruin.

The Master is the horrifying result of an eldritch god possessing the BLU Medic shortly following the release of the Shadow Blight onto the world. The Master is the leader of the Disciples, commanding them with an iron fist and unspeakable violence. Wielding a glaive made of pure Blight energy, The Master is capable of controlling his colleagues with disturbing ease.

His wings are his most impressive feature as physical displays of his power. When he first possessed the body of the BLU Medic, he only had the strength to make a single set of wings. As he grew in strength, he eventually sprouted a second set. Should the Shadow Blight be allowed to fully engulf the world, The Master will sprout a third pair of wings. It is foretold that should he unfurl all six of his wings, he will usher in the end of the world. His wings are also capable of morphing into a number of different appendages, including tentacles and claws, allowing him to adapt to any situation.

The Master currently resides within the Shadow Blight's stronghold, where he sits upon a throne of nightmares. From here, he watches the apocalypse unfold whilst feeding on the Blight's energy. His patience is boundless and he will wait for as long as he needs for The Marker to be delivered to him. From the depths of his stronghold, The Master will sacrifice The Marker upon the Altar of Null, summoning the King of Ruin into the world and bringing an end to humanity as we know it.

My Deviantart!

#team fortress 2 #tf2 #take back the fortress #the master #tf2 medic #my art

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prettywordsyouleft · 2 years

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The Fall

Pairing: Cha Eunwoo x female reader

Genre: demon x saint au / romance / fluff

Warnings: none

Author’s Note: once again, I’ve returned to the world of The Ledger of Hearts. This was a story many have waited for. I hope you enjoy it.

Word count: 669

The Ledger of Hearts | Peace and Chaos | The Fall

You were falling. Alone.

Wheezing out a laugh, you were impressed that Eunwoo had lured you into this descent. You had always been one for a dare, and when he had suggested you both jump off the bridge that connected the portals to heaven and hell, you had only done it because he was at your side.

Clever saint.

It was hard to see where you were going exactly. Time was irrelevant, but you could tell that the longer you fell, the faster you went. You were burning through realms, bursting through one indistinguishable scenery into another, the briefest amount of pain shredding through you at each interval. It seemed as if you would keep falling forever.

A just punishment for a demon who wished for more than your stack.

And then, he was in front of you. Or beneath you. His warm eyes caught yours, wide and frightened, yes, but also full of determination after finding you again. You attempted to smile, and you were certain the tears in your eyes weren’t just from the speed you were both descending at. Reaching out for him, you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders, burying your head into his neck.

Eunwoo was panting, the strain on his body beneath yours evident. Still, you clung to him, legs wrapped around his waist and arms folded over the other. If you were to fall for eternity, at least you would be together.

An unfurling happened around you, and with a strength you shouldn’t possess now, you pulled back a fraction to see shimmering white wings spread out wide, attempting to slow your fall. You gasped when you realised it was working, and yet, feathers were loosening and flying by your face in clumps.

“Your wings!” you cried in horror, Eunwoo’s jaw clamped tightly against the strain. You hadn’t known that saints could have wings. Perhaps his position above had been more powerful than you had assumed.

Delving inside, you pushed out your remaining magic, not being sure why you hadn’t thought to do something aside from fall at such a grand pace before. Curls of darkness caressed what remained of his almost bare wings, protecting them from further damage.

He smiled with relief, relaxing his jaw a little as his hand rose to meet the side of your face. “You were scared, little hellion.”

“Of course. I couldn’t see you.”

“We chose this together,” he reminded, and you nodded, nuzzling his hand. You barely had a moment more before you crashed into the unknown, the very life being knocked out of you.

For uncounted moments, you considered your death had arrived. You could see nor hear anything, and Eunwoo’s warmth was gone from your embrace. Whilst you felt no pain, you assumed you must have broken entirely upon impact.

Blinking slowly, the haze of the world around you began to clear. You were in a mortal land, though you weren’t sure where. Hesitantly lifting your hands to your face, you noticed your skin was no longer luminous, your fingernails now painted and round instead of claws. Pulling yourself up off the ground, you tried to understand what had happened.

“Are you alright?” a familiar voice asked, and when you turned around, you stared at the man before you.

Gone were the wings, the heavenly glow. The man before you was simply that. No longer a saint, for he had officially fallen from piety. And a demon such as you? Had you been given some level of grace?

Eunwoo shifted forward, uncaring of the people that stepped around you in this strange metropolitan. “We dared to dream for more than peace and chaos, my love. Are you happy with our choice?”

“We’re now mortal.”

“It appears so.”

“We answer to no one but ourselves,” you continued, and Eunwoo sighed, giving a slight look to the heavens above. You chuckled. “I will not follow His lead.”

“No, but will you follow mine?”

Leaning in to kiss him, you smiled against his lips. “Always.”

_________________

[ASTRO Masterlist] | [Main Masterlist]

#kwritersworldnet #kdiarynet #eunwoo fiction #eunwoo fanfic #eunwoo fluff #eunwoo scenarios #eunwoo au #astro fiction #astro fanfic #astro fluff #astro scenarios #astro au #pwyl; the ledger of hearts #kpop fiction #kpop fanfic #kpop series #astro series #kpop fluff #eunwoo series

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eeshani · 1 month

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They say the sun rises every morning, and I’ve come to understand that it does so not because it must, but because it chooses to. There’s a kind of sacred ritual in the way it paints the sky, a daily promise whispered between the heavens and the earth—a promise of warmth, of life, of new beginnings. I’ve always admired that about the sun, how it never falters, never hesitates to cast its light, even on the darkest days. I like to imagine that the sun is aware of all the shadows it chases away, that it knows the weight of its duty and yet embraces it with a smile. And maybe that’s why we’re drawn to it, why we feel a kinship with its light, because deep down, we all want to believe that no matter how heavy the darkness, there’s always something that will rise above it, something that will keep shining.

I walk through gardens where the flowers bloom with such exuberance, their petals unfurling in the sun’s embrace. Each blossom is a testament to resilience, to the quiet courage it takes to grow in a world that can be so harsh. I find comfort in their simplicity, in the way they reach for the light without question, without fear. There’s a lesson in that, I think—a lesson in how to live, in how to be content with the moment, with the small joys that life offers. And yet, there’s a part of me that wonders if the flowers know what it means to wither, if they understand the inevitability of change, of loss. But even if they do, they never show it. They just keep blooming, keep reaching, as if to say, ‘This is enough, for now.’

The wind is a wanderer, carrying stories from distant lands, whispers from forgotten dreams. I listen to it, hoping to catch a fragment of wisdom, a piece of the puzzle that might make sense of it all. There’s something reassuring in the wind’s constancy, in the way it moves through the world without ever staying in one place. It’s a reminder that nothing is permanent, that everything is in motion, even when it feels like the world has stopped turning. And maybe that’s the truth we’re all running from—that life is a series of moments, each one fleeting, each one precious. We hold onto them, try to make them last, but in the end, they slip through our fingers like the wind. And yet, we keep going, keep moving, because what else is there to do?

The stars are the keepers of secrets, ancient and wise, watching over us with a kind of detached curiosity. I’ve always been fascinated by them, by the way they shine so brightly from so far away, their light traveling across time and space to reach us. It’s comforting to think that the light we see is a memory, a glimpse of the past that still manages to illuminate our present. There’s something poetic about that, about how the stars remind us that even the things we’ve lost can still light our way. But there’s also a sadness in it, a quiet sorrow in knowing that the stars we wish upon are already gone, that their light is a ghost of what once was. And yet, we keep wishing, keep hoping, because maybe that’s what it means to be human—to believe in the possibility of something more, even when we know it’s already out of reach.

So I close my eyes, feeling the night wrap around me like a comforting shroud. There’s a peace in the darkness, in the way it allows us to hide, to rest, to dream. I think about all the moments that have brought me here, to this quiet place where the world feels soft and kind. I think about the people I’ve loved and lost, the dreams I’ve chased and abandoned, the life I’ve lived and the one I still hope to find. And I realize that it’s all part of the same story, a story that’s still being written, even if the ending is already known.

Because maybe that’s the beauty of it all—that even in the face of impermanence, we find a way to keep going, to keep living, to keep loving. And maybe that’s enough. Maybe that’s all we really need—to know that we were here, that we existed, that we mattered, even if only for a moment. And in that moment, we were happy, weren’t we?

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narrans · 9 months

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The Orion's Daughter : To Lands Beyond | Chapter Nine : Days Gone By

**~~~~~**

Chapter Nine | Days Gone By

**~~~~~**

Sun began cresting over the edge of the horizon, appearing as though it was erupting out of the ocean’s cresting waves. Fingers of light stretched far beyond the clouds, creating a soft pink haze in the clouds high above the ground. Birds just now began to stretch and unfurl their wings, taking flight on the slightest breeze, drifting lazily through the wind, in search of their first meal of the day.

While many of nature’s beasts only now started waking, I had been up for hours already. Actually, the only reason I was awake was because I never really went to sleep.

Was it morning already?

There was no way it could be morning– and yet it was.

I glanced out the window and watched as little rabbits and other woodland creatures scurried in the tall grass in our back yard. The wildflowers twitched and danced in the morning breeze, tousling harder when an animal brushed by the stems of the undergrowth.

The oil in my lamp was barely flickering, showing me that I definitely stayed awake for too long. Curses! I meant to go to sleep at a decent hour last night, but how could I do that when I was so entrenched in my current book?

I stretched on my spot on the top of one of the corner chests by the window that I had made into my personal reading nook in the corner of the kitchen and sitting room area. I felt like my spine had tried to fuse with the furniture piece at some point, all of the vertebrae aching and creaking as I swung my legs off of the corner chest and stretched.

The morning already smelled of warm heather on the breeze. I knew today was going to be a warm one, but that was expected in the summer moons. Today was undoubtedly going to be a long one.

I had my morning training with Steele, hunting for flowers and stones in the woods with momma, and, finally, town visit for errands. What was really exciting was that the caravans were coming into town, which meant there was a chance for me to add some new books to my collections and an opportunity to trade directly with others instead of going through the local shops. Perhaps I would get a chance to get in a nap by the stream after lunch, but that was going to have to wait.

I hoisted myself up off of the chest, standing and stretching once again, and quietly tiptoed across the wooden floor to the wash basin and the chest where I kept my training clothes. As I passed by the kitchen, I glimpsed my reflection in the glass of the window.

Heavens above, I looked like a mess.

Perhaps a bath later tonight or in the creek was in order as well.

I made a mental note to make sure to comb my hair today before I left for town; but, for now, it would have to do.

I glanced over and saw my momma’s mess of bright red hair poking out from under the light sheet she had draped over her body. Her features were so relaxed and peaceful. She was so beautiful and strong. I hoped I could be half the woman she was.

Not wanting to wake her, I made sure to avoid the squeaky floorboards and fished out a shirt and pants as well as a wrap to go around the whole ensemble in case I began to get overheated. It was also good for training. I needed to be ready for anything, just like Steele taught me, and some of that was maneuvering in a collection of clothing.

I carefully dipped some water into the wash basin and splashed it over my cheeks, which instantly washed away the tiredness lingering in my eyes. I knew the moment I started moving, I would wake fully. The refreshing water dripped over my eyes and down my cheeks. Using the cloth by the basin, I dabbed my eyes and face.

It was only now that I looked up and really caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I saw a part of me in the reflection of the glass on the window, but I don’t remember the last time I really looked at myself in the mirror – and I felt shocked.

It was still me, but I didn’t realize how much I had changed. My face seemed a little fuller while drawing in on my jaw. My eyes were bright, and my lashes longer. My hair was longer too. Shirts didn’t quite fit the same way they did before, pulling in the front when it didn’t have to before. I had to wrap my chest for my training to make sure I was comfortable. Corsets only tried to eat me alive and were stiff. I needed to be flexible.

I was also taller now. Before, I needed to stand on the tips of my toes in order to see myself in the mirror. Now, I could stand straight backed and be perfectly framed in the center of the mirror, almost like my momma.

How long had it been since I saw myself in the mirror? Had I really changed so much from being that little girl? How old was I turning this year?

I had to think about it for a moment before the number came to me.

Seventeen.

That was how old I was turning this year.

Seventeen.

Where had the time gone?

I couldn’t believe how much time had passed. It felt like no time at all. From different tasks I did from day to day to the seasons that changed in their constant dance, I didn’t realize how quickly it would all go.

As I pulled the clothes off of my frame, wrapped my chest for morning exercises, and changed, the idea of how much I had changed continued to invade my mind regardless of how much I tried to push it away. I wondered what else had changed about me, as well as what else would change as I aged.

Once ready, there was no time to waist. The outdoors was calling, and Steele was already waiting in his meditative stance. He was sitting, straight backed and facing the sunrise. His violet eyes were closed, and a gentle breeze ruffled his lengthening hair.

It occurred to me only now that Steele looked the same as he always did. A little older, yes. There was a little more gray in his hair along the sides of his head and smattered in his goatee.

He had managed to fashion a blade long enough to trim up his face and his hair. He also managed to fashion himself a small collection of clothes and his house was finally in order. Steele had a home now, not just a shelter carved out of stone.

Really and truly, he has made this land part of himself, seemingly pulling something from nothing in a world he was not from. He was such an inspiration to me, and I was honored to call him my dad.

Wordlessly, I walked up to him, his shadow eclipsing me, and sat down beside him. I closed my eyes and let the warmth of the early morning sun wash over me. Breath after breath, focus seeped into my mind and the troubles of the day and curiosity of how I have changed washed away.

Without speaking, we moved together into different positions, stretching and maneuvering from standing on two feet, to one foot, into deep set squats, and opening our bodies and minds to the energy of the day.

Immediately after, Steele walked me through a new set of positions and maneuvers, but I was using more than just my fists now. Last year, for my birthday, Steele presented me with two very beautiful gifts – a matching sword and dagger. Now, when I worked on my positions, I was able to use blades unlike when I was young.

One breath after the next, I twisted through the air, tucking and rolling as I let my muscles act out of sheer memory. From time to time, Steele’s eyes would light up with pride as I managed a difficult maneuver.

I loved that feeling.

I loved making him smile with pride like that.

Once we finished up our morning exercises, I darted inside and grabbed my bag and sat with my momma for a cup of morning tea before going outside where Steele was waiting for us. He carried us to a new patch of forest where we hadn’t explored very much where momma and I found a whole new collection of herbs, spices, and stones that would be worth trading in the town.

We even found a small, bubbling brook where we splashed around and rested by, letting the cool water run over our feet and refresh our bodies. We filled our canteens and slipped some herbs inside to purify the water before heading back to our home. When Steele returned, he had several handfuls of sand which we sifted through. I was pleasantly surprised when I found a few dozen teeth, three large shells, and a dozen or so broken shells and bits of bone.

We made our way back home, talking to Steele about all of the things we found and showing him the plants. From the inside of my bag, I fished out my journal that Kendel gave to me so long ago as well as the book of herbs I purchased. Of all the books I collected, this was still the most valuable to me. My original vow of keeping this book pristine was a dream I couldn’t hope to maintain.

While I kept the book in the best condition I could, many of the pages were stained slightly on the sides, the edges of the book were no longer crisp, and it smelled of herbs and the earth. The spine had definitely cracked in a few different places, and some of the pages threatened to slip out every time I cracked open the book.

It was the perfect combination for a book of this type.

The afternoon hours seemed to fly by with unbelievable speed. Momma and I were able to make a quick lunch from vegetables from our garden before we packed up everything and headed into town. Even as we approached the cobbled stone streets, I could smell the foreign herbs and spices on the wind.

We entered the town and immediately saw the banners spreading from all different sides of the streets as well as the horse drawn caravans just outside in the fields. Their booths were extraordinary, filled with countless treasures from different districts and counties across the continent.

I had to force myself to not spend all of my earned coin and tradeable items in one place or another, but it was so tempting. There were teas I wanted to try. Books I wanted to read. Maps I wanted to collect. Weapons I wanted to practice with and master.

All had to be paced.

Everything I had in my bag was exchanged for one thing or another. I came with treasures and left with treasures, making for a valuable and productive day. I even left with something that Steele would be very pleased with – a new rapier. As we were on our way back, something caught my attention that I couldn’t quite shake.

As I moved from booth to booth, I felt eyes on me. I have been used to the feeling all of my life. From the way I dress now in my pants and skirt combination to the way I now carry my dagger and sword at my hips, so many have always been looking and whispering about me being one way or another.

Like my momma’s phrase said, water on stone. Beat me to the bone. Your words run right over me. I didn’t care what they thought about me. I didn’t care what they said. I knew who I was. I didn’t need them to tell me.

Time hasn’t changed the number of whispers, but it seems like some of their whispers have changed their tunes. When I was out among the caravans, I noticed the eyes of certain people on me, particularly the sons of many of the traders and nomads. They smiled and waved at me. They offered me deals that would not be profitable for their business.

I noticed that, on the way home, momma mentioned that some of the caravan vendors asked about me. They were curious about me and who I was. They wanted to know my interests and, across the board, if I was promised to anyone.

I laughed when momma brought it up, but it wasn’t until I was sitting on the roof delving into my new book that the statement really hit me.

Were… they interested? In me?

Why?

“Terrilyn?”

The sound of my name startled me out of my thoughts as I looked over at Steele, who sat down beside the house and was staring at me curiously. I gazed into the giant features of my adoptive Orion dad. His curious brow drew me in, willing the words out of me with the slightest provocation.

“Is everything alright?” asked Steele. “Did you find any treasures?”

I nodded and smiled up at him, showing off the rapier. He nodded his approval after taking the blade in his thumb and index finger, examining it with his immense violet eyes. I watched how he studied the blade, measuring the balance as he taught me how to do and testing the durability of the blade.

“This is a good sword,” he said softly. I felt my heart flutter in my chest, a swelling of pride rising up inside of me. “You chose well, though I think there may be something else on your mind?”

I don’t know how he managed to do it, but Steele, like my mother, has some strange ability to see right through me. I do want to talk about this thought about boys being interested in me, but how do I even start? After all of these years and through all of our conversations, one thing we never talked about was boys.

I wasn’t sure why I was nervous about talking about it. It wasn’t like it actually mattered; did it?

“Well… yes,” I muttered. “It was something momma said.” My cheeks suddenly felt warm, and something stirred in my chest. Awkwardness? Anxiousness?

Steele sat and waited patiently, unblinking and not pressuring me to speak. I liked that about him. When I thought I had my thoughts together, I sighed and finally managed to speak.

“Well, while we were in town, momma said that there were some boys asking after me. They asked if I was promised and such. I guess… I don’t know how I feel about that,” I muttered. I saw Steele’s eyes gaze at me pensively before a smile curled onto his face.

“You can feel however you would like about it; however, if it were me, I would feel… eh… koonyardo vi… special,” stated Steele. It made sense in its own way. Still, it didn’t make sense to me.

“But why though?” I asked, genuinely confused. “I mean. No one other than you and momma have really cared about me. And what if I don’t have those same feelings? Is that… wrong?” Steele shook his head, his hair swaying like branches in the wind. His hand came up and rested near me as I sat there on the roof gazing up at him, the new book I purchased pinched between my fingers.

“Terrilyn, you are so very special and unique. No one I know is like you, and they are starting to see it now. If you do not feel that way, then that is okay. You do not have to feel that way until you are ready,” stated Steele. I couldn’t help but smile as I leaned forward and touched his finger, tracing the ridges of his fingerprint with my hand. I felt ease come over me, but it was sadly short lived when a new question infected my mind.

“What if I don’t feel that way ever?” I asked. Steele chuckled and pressed his fingertip into my leg ever so slightly.

“Then you do not have to. You have to ask yourself, Terrilyn, what you want out of life?”

Steele’s question loomed in the air like a continuous cloud. It stayed in the air and clung to my mind, settling into the deepest parts of me.

What did I want?

Not just today, but out of my life?

I thought about the people in the town living their lives and the adventure the caravans and nomads promised. I thought about the lands I haven’t seen and the things I haven’t learned. So much of me felt torn about everything I wanted to do that, suddenly, one thing caught my attention.

Just as I felt the confusion filling me like an overpoured cup, a warm summer gust swept over me. The wind came from the land and blew the lose strands of auburn hair into my face. Instinctually, I turned my head away and found my eyes fixated on the horizon where the ocean and lands beyond waited.

All at once, the answer became apparent.

“I want to learn,” I said softly. “I want to see what’s beyond the horizon. I want to study and learn everything I can, and I want you and momma there with me.”

Indescribable feelings swirled in my mind, but a quick glance at Steele’s smile over my shoulder gave me all of the reassurance I needed. It wasn’t that there was a wrong answer, but it was the fact I was able to give an answer was what really mattered.

“Terrilyn,” said Steele with a fatherly smile on his lips. “Kootha sapien tralu yoo’cur inna.” It was a phrase I knew well after spending so much time with Steele. He said it so often and me knowing his language gave such a positive feeling to his words.

It meant, “You’re wise beyond your years.”

It was his way of giving his blessing to me, and it would be well spent.

“Now, would you like to read aloud? Or spend time alone?” asked Steele, giving me a playful nudge as I kept my balance on the roof top. The feelings of anxiousness vaporized in an instant and the playfulness returned.

“Absolutely,” I said. I pocketed the book and secured the rapier. I knew he would offer his hand, but I had something else I wanted to try – something I needed to try.

I turned quickly on my feet and, before he could draw away or offer his hand, I stepped up on top of his hand and darted up his arm, clutching onto the fabric constructing his shirt and making it all the way up to his shoulder on my own strength.

His eyes widened, impressed by my speed and strength, as I secured myself onto his shoulder.

“You’ve been practicing,” said Steele, his deep, thunderous voice reverberating with resounding amazement.

“I learned from the best,” I said. “Now, let’s get started. Just… start walking. That way!” I pointed toward the coastline, hoping to gaze at the ocean as I read aloud to Steele. The Orion nodded and, standing carefully, made sure to wave good-bye to my mother before he began walking in my nondescript direction.

Like how I pointed in a random direction, I wasn’t sure where my life was going. What I did know was that I had Steele and my momma behind me, supporting and loving me. Really, what more did I need?

~~~~~^*^*^*^*^~~~~~

Continue

Beginning

~~~~~^*^*^*^*^~~~~~

Book One: The Orion’s Factotum

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ceruleanmusings · 11 months

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TyHil Love Countdown Week 1 - Dawn

It's back again, my favorite beyblade event over at @takaoxhiromi! I'm going to do things a little different this time because my entries are (hopefully) all going to be on the shorter side. I'll post the whole entry here and also give links to FFN and Ao3 if you prefer to read them there. I'm also doing this because FFN currently has an issue where no alerts are being emailed out at all and I don't want people potentially missing my updates. Enjoy! (Ao3 | FFN)

Their breaths collided, curling and twisting in the crisp air of dawn.

He'd never appreciated it, the stillness before the world woke up. How time became suspended, creating infinities between the passing seconds. How the light of the waking sky extended and stretched in slow increments, allowing a peaceful transfer between tranquility and liveliness.

She kept asking him why he chose that time of day, even going so far as suggesting he wanted to hide her. That comment ruffled but the look in her eye hurt. She held her chin up, as assured as always, but he'd always been able to see past the sheen in her ruby eyes. The doubt hidden behind the bolster.

Uncertainty didn't fit her; it sat like a thick, cumbersome shawl, pulling her shoulders down and bundling her tight. She needed more room to take up space, breathe, and exist.

Which, incidentally, was part of the reason he chose the early morning for their sessions.

It took time for her to unfurl, to uncross her arms and relax enough to get sucked into his teachings. Her initial huffs and rolls of her eyes faded way to a quiet concentration he'd seen plenty when she studied or took an exam or…did this. Tried something new, tried to get an understanding of it to make it all fit in her world, tried to get him.

Admittedly, he wasn't that complicated. He lived his life like he floated on the wind, moving along where the day took him. And yet that was still something she didn't understand, couldn't seem to wrap her head around, or so he guessed with all the ways she'd criticized him over the years or shook her head at his antics. It was easier to show her and show her he did.

That's why he chose this time. That's why he chose the dewy drips of dawn. Because it was no one else but him and her, no expectations, no judgment, no pressure, no disappointment. They could be Tyson and Hilary; they could exist and breathe.

"Almost." She shivered against him and he hid the grin threatening to bloom across his face, lest he'd wanted to receive an elbow to his chest. After all, they couldn't mix business and pleasure could they? Or so she claimed. Still he couldn't resist, turning his head so his mouth just barely touched her ear. She shivered against and he let out a low chuckle. She stepped backwards a touch at the sound, pressing her back fully against his front. He closed his eyes, focusing on the heat seeping from her to the delicious floral scent clinging to her neck. Cheater.

His hands cupped her shoulders, gently lowering them down from her ears. "Just breathe," he said. Her body rose and fell beneath his grasp. "Good." He slid his hands down her shoulders, over her arms, and rested them on her extended hands, one finger curled around the plastic loop attached to the launcher in her opposite hand. "If you hold your breath, you won't get the right pull. Everything needs to work together for the launch."

She looked at him out the corner of her eye, lips pursing just slightly. The gloss applied caught the first beam of sunlight and, damn, did she deserve that spotlight. It was as if stardust had been thrown at her and she caught it in her mouth. He'd travel to the heavens to get a taste of it if he had to. Thankfully, he had a full constellation in his arms.

Tyson adjusted her grip a touch, allowing his fingers to drag across her wrists before placing his hands to her hips. She sucked in a breath, the air hissing inwards between her teeth when he twisted her a little to the right, whooshing back out when the tips of his fingers slipped just beneath the hem of her blouse and met with her warm skin.

"Okay." His breath floated out past her cheek, mingling with her short puffs. "Whenever you're ready, let it rip."

She gave a wry smile. "Ha ha."

He also smiled, though it beamed with satisfaction. "That wasn't meant to be a pun but…"

"It's fitting."

Her face relaxed and that look came back. He saw the gears turning in her head, the rapid strings of her putting all the information he'd given her moving into place, figuring it all out. Her grip tightened. Her chest rose and fell with her deep breaths. And her lisp pressed together, tightening, stopping her breath, only for it come out with a soft groan when Tyson pressed a kiss to the junction between her neck and collar bone.

The launcher landed in the grass; its thud softened by the lush blades. Her hand, now empty, reached back and lay atop of his, fingers slotting between when he squeezed her hips.

"That's not fair," she whispered, though he heard the smile in her voice.

He parted his lips just enough to let his tongue drag a quick stripe across her warm skin. "Oh well." He lifted his head and pressed another kiss to the side of her neck, this time beneath her chin. "Means we'll have to train longer."

Humming, she turned in his arms and loosely wrapped hers around his neck, lifting to brush her nose against his. "Unfortunately."

She'd barely finished the word when he ducked his head, trapping it between their eager lips, getting a taste of heaven and of her as they bathed in the light of dawn.

#tyhil love countdown #tyhil #takao x hiromi #tyson x hilary #tyson granger #hilary tachibana #takao kinomiya #hiromi tachibana

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harleehazbinfics · 7 months

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My world

dad!lucifer morningstar x reader

Synopsis: it had been a few months now since your daughter was born, even now he can't put her down and be away from her. he says that he missed so much of his first born that he wanted to be different for her. he loves her with all his heart and wishes for her happiness for his family is his world.

a/n: it's 2am and i cant fucking sleep dude. also i dont have daddy issues 🤡 i just love little mermaid 2 a lot smh. found the inspo in reels i cried wanting for more soft dad lucifer (link)

A light humming that transitions into vocalizing a beautiful tune echoes through the nursery as Lucifer sways with his baby in his arms. His smile stretches from ear to ear as the baby cooes at his beautiful voice. He stops for a moment and kisses the darling child earning a squeal and babble.

He dances around the room continuing to sing, while his daughter clutches his shirt happily.

"You are my world, my darling. What a wonderful world I see," he sings with a deep clear crisp voice that could topple over the gates of heaven as he nuzzles to his daughter.

"You are the song I'm singing. You're my beautiful melody," he belts his wings unfurling themselves from joy and pride to hold her.

He had waited for this day for what seems to be a long time. Of course the journey to get here was not always a nice and flowery road but, without each and every little step he wouldn't be where he was right now. Happy and content.

You stare at your family with a smile on your face from the exchange of the two. As your daughter laughed while her father peppered kisses on her face. His wings tickled her cheeks as he wrapped it around them both, encasing and treasuring her. A silent promise that no harm could ever fall on her for as long as he stood and breathed.

You couldn't help but feel emotional as you wiped a tear under your eye. Then left the pair quietly, letting them have their father-daughter bonding.

Lucifer laid down his worn out baby back in the crib, letting the toy ducks go round emitting a soft lullaby as he said this:

"My sweet daughter, I wish for you to be happy and safe always. Chase your dreams wherever they take you, and if you're ever afraid Dad will always be there to find you. Goodnight, my duckling. Sleep tight."

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demonicangelics-world · 2 months

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Redamancy - Zestial x Angel!OC

Chapter Eleven: Nevermind, everything's ok

Synopsis: In the shadowy realms of Hell and the celestial heights of Heaven, two souls grapple with the ache of unrequited love. Zestial, the formidable demon overlord, commands respect and fear. His past has forged a reputation that isolates him. Resigned to a life of power and isolation, he yearned for companionship and understanding, knowing that his intimidating demeanor made such connections seemingly impossible. Gabriela, once a radiant angel, admired the archangel Michael from afar, her heart swelling with unspoken affection for his divine strength and kindness. Casted into Hell on a mission, she now struggles to survive in a world where danger lurks at every corner, her angelic essence buried beneath a demonic exterior. Amidst the chaos of Hell and the secrets of Heaven, a profound and forbidden love ignites between them, challenging the very core of their beliefs and values.

Chapter Eleven: Nevermind, everything's ok Chapter Twelve: Monsters

Word Count: 4,105

Music for chapter: Nevermind, everything's ok

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The training grounds were filled with the sounds of grunts, clashes of weapons, and the steady rhythm of drills. Michael’s trainees moved with a mix of determination and trepidation, aware that today was different. Michael, usually a demanding but fair mentor, seemed particularly harsh and relentless.

“Can you believe this?” one of the guardians whispered, his voice barely audible over the clamor. “He’s like a drill sergeant from Hell today.”

Another angel, wiping sweat from her brow, muttered, “He must’ve woken up on the wrong side of Heaven. I thought training under him was tough before, but this is just brutal.”

“Maybe someone stole his halo,” a third guardian snarked, prompting a few suppressed snickers from the group.

Michael, his back turned to them as he demonstrated a complex maneuver, heard every word. His keen senses, honed over millennia, missed nothing. He didn’t turn around, didn’t give any indication that he’d heard, but an eye twitch suggested their comments had registered.

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, signaling the end of the afternoon, Michael finally called the training to a halt. “That’s enough for today,” he announced.

A collective sigh of relief passed through the trainees. But just as they began to relax, Michael’s next words dashed their hopes of respite. “You’ve all been assigned tasks on Earth starting tomorrow. Report to your respective coordinators at dawn.”

Groans and murmurs of dismay rippled through the group. Michael’s expression remained stern, unyielding. “Dismissed.”

The trainees dispersed, their wings unfurling as they took to the skies, their earlier complaints now mixed with exhaustion and dread about their impending assignments.

As the last trainee flew away, Michael stood alone. His thoughts drifted back to the source of his irritability. The confrontation with Sera had been unexpected and infuriating. Gabriela had been sent away without his notice, a move that not only undermined his authority but also unsettled him deeply.

The act of undermining his authority triggered a torrent of suppressed emotions. He had always prided himself on being in control, on having a clear path and direction. But Sera's duplicity had shaken that foundation. It wasn't just about the immediate situation with Gabriela; it was a blow to his very core, a challenge to his leadership and competence.

Michael's chest tightened as the confrontation resurfaced. Sera's dismissive tone, the casual yet firm way she had dismissed his concerns, and the infuriating decision she and elders took without his notice – it all gnawed at him.

His wings twitched with a restless energy, a physical manifestation of the turmoil inside him. Michael clenched his fists, feeling a wave of anger and frustration that he had kept bottled up. His jaw tightened, and he could feel the heat rising to his face.

Their actions had cut deeper than he cared to admit. They brought back memories of early past slights, moments where he felt overlooked and underestimated. As the archangel of war, he was supposed to be strong, unyielding, but even he had limits. And those limits had been tested.

His trainees bore the brunt of his inner turmoil. Each command he barked, each grueling exercise he demanded, was a way to channel his frustration. Yet, it was a temporary relief, a distraction from the real issue gnawing at his core. He knew it, and in the quiet of the now-empty training grounds, it was impossible to ignore.

A profound silence settled over the training grounds. The emptiness brought a wave of depression crashing over Michael, replacing his anger. The solitude intensified his feelings of hopelessness, his thoughts drifting inevitably back to Gabriela.

The angel who brought light back to his life, was now condemned to the depths of Hell. The thought of her in that infernal place filled him with a hopelessness he couldn't shake. He had tried to be careful, to hide any signs of his affection for Gabriela, but it seemed his efforts were in vain. Sera had seen through his facade, and now Gabriela was paying the price for his failure.

Michael knew all too well that Gabriela didn't need to descend into Hell to ascend to the rank of archangel. It was a hollow excuse, a cover for an act of what? Unspoken feelings?

The weight of her absence pressed down on him, making every breath feel like a struggle. Her laughter, her wisdom, her very essence had been a balm to his weary spirit. Now, she was gone, and the void she left behind was almost unbearable.

Michael believed that Gabriela felt the same for him, but out of code and respect, they hadn’t voiced their feelings for each other. It was an unspoken agreement, a mutual understanding that their roles demanded sacrifice. He had seen the fleeting glances, the shared moments of unspoken connection, but they had both adhered to their duty with unwavering commitment.

But what tore at his core, what truly gnawed at the deepest part of his being, was that Sera had been right. Both he and Gabriela knew the truth. They existed to serve, bound by duty and responsibility, leaving no room or exception to pursue their personal interests. They were warriors, guardians, servants of the higher purpose, and their own desires were insignificant in the grand scheme of things.

And now, there was the issue of the exterminations. How would Gabriela react? She would know too much. And what would happen to her then? He knew Sera wouldn't let her off the hook too easily. Sera’s ruthless pragmatism was legendary, and Michael shuddered at the thought of what could befall.

And then there was the issue of the overlords. Michael knew Gabriela was capable of handling herself. But that was on Earth, with his supervision, not in Hell, surrounded by demonic overlords who played by their own brutal rules. Gabriela was a guardian angel with combating abilities, not an intelligence gatherer. This could go wrong in so many ways.

His mind spun with the possibilities. What if her combat prowess fails her? What if the overlords saw her as a threat? What if she fell into one of their traps? What if her presence, alone, drew unwanted attention?

Michael's head began to spin, a crushing weight of worry pressing down on him.

The quiet of the training grounds seemed to amplify his anxiety. He needed to clear his mind, and with a powerful beat of his wings, he took to the skies.

The vast expanse of Heaven stretched out below him, its serene beauty a stark contrast to the turmoil within him. He needed to ground himself, to find solace in something familiar.

His thoughts drifted to his two youngest brothers, Chamuel and Jophiel, as they were most likely unoccupied by now. Jophiel, with his ever-present sketchbook, capturing the ethereal beauty of Heaven, and Chamuel, always ready with a listening ear.

They had been infant angels during Lucifer’s rebellion, too young to remember those times. Their innocence and fresh perspective had always been a source of comfort for Michael, a reminder of the purity that still existed in their world.

Jophiel, the Archangel of love and beauty, was known for his artistic spirit and loving nature. Jophiel's realm was one of creativity and inspiration, helping mortals see the beauty in the world and guiding them along their spiritual paths.

And there was Chamuel, the Archangel of relationships. He had an uncanny knack for calming even the most agitated of angels and was the go-to confidant for many. His easy going personality and aversion to violence made him a beacon of tranquility.

As Michael continued to fly, he thought of Uriel and Raphael—his other brothers, closer in both age and wisdom. Uriel, with his keen insight and unwavering knowledge, was always a steady presence in the council chambers. Raphael, the healer and protector, tended to the wounded and guided lost souls with a gentle hand.

Uriel and Raphael were young adults during the exile of their brother, Lucifer, their memories intertwined with the tumultuous events that had shaped Heaven's history. Their shared experience of those times forged a bond of understanding between Michael, Uriel, and Raphael that went beyond mere brotherhood.

They had stood together in the face of Lucifer's rebellion, each playing their part in defending Heaven's gates and guiding its inhabitants, while dealing with the painful aftermath of losing Lucifer. Uriel's sharp intellect and strategic acumen had been instrumental in devising defensive tactics, while Raphael's healing hands had tended to the wounded and comforted the grieving.

In those dark days, their unity had been a beacon of hope amidst the chaos. It was this shared history that made their rare moments of togetherness all the more precious. They understood each other's burdens and responsibilities, finding strength in their mutual support and camaraderie. Yet, their duties often kept them apart, their rare gatherings reserved for council meetings or special occasions.

Lastly, there was Azrael, the so-called middle child of their celestial family, who occupied a unique place among his siblings.

As the Archangel of Death, Azrael's responsibilities extended beyond the boundaries of Heaven, often keeping him distant from their gatherings. His presence was felt most keenly on Earth, where he walks among mortals with his guardians, guiding souls to their afterlife with compassion and grace, in a sense taking the role of “grim reaper.”

Despite his solemn duty, Azrael was anything but conventional. A free-spirited soul, he danced to the rhythm of his own celestial drum. His approach to life and death is marked by a wisdom that contrasted his youthful yet dark appearance.

Azrael's upbringing had instilled in him a streak of opportunism and a penchant for survival that sometimes clashed with the more straightforward ideals of Michael. He was known for his cunning nature, often using tricks and unconventional methods to navigate the complexities of his role, and outside his role, to Michael’s irritation.

Michael couldn't help but notice how Azrael's personality echoed that of Lucifer in many ways. Like their fallen brother, Azrael possessed an eccentric charm and a rebellious spirit that set him apart from the more traditional brothers.

He was in his preadolescence before Lucifer’s exile and had shared a deep bond with Lucifer due to their similar personalities, leaving the loss of their brother an unspoken wound that lingered within Azrael.

He had looked up to Lucifer, admired his boldness and defiance, traits that Azrael sometimes emulated in his own way. This bond of admiration and rebellion added a complex layer to their relationship, one fraught with both understanding and discord.

Despite the clashes from their contrasting personalities, Michael still cared for Azrael.

He admired his brother's resilience and admired the unique perspective he brought to their celestial family. In moments of unity, when they set aside their disagreements and embraced their shared purpose, Michael found strength in Azrael's unwavering commitment to his duty and his boundless compassion for the souls in his care.

As Michael soared higher into the celestial realm, the memories of his brothers—each with their own strengths, quirks, and challenges—filled him with gratitude that slowly replaced his sadness. They were a family forged not just by blood but by shared experiences, united in their eternal devotion to Heaven and their Father.

The landscape gradually changed, becoming more vibrant and filled with artistic wonders that reflected Jophiel's touch. Splashes of color adorned the skies, swirling in patterns that mirrored the beauty of Heaven itself.

In the distance, Michael spotted Jophiel and Chamuel with Emily, their beloved seraphim companion who, though not their sister by blood, was treated as such by all the brothers. Emily was the embodiment of puppies and rainbows— pure joy and innocence, a constant source of enduring love and light in their celestial home.

Emily, like Jophiel and Chamuel, had also been an infant during the turbulent times of Lucifer's rebellion. The three were often together due to their shared age and gentle personalities. Now, he could see them engaged in a game of volleyball, Jophiel and Chamuel playfully challenging Emily in a game of two against one.

With a graceful descent, Michael joined them on the celestial sands. "Mind if I join?" he called out with a playful smile.

Emily beamed, her eyes sparkling with happiness at him. She drops the ball and runs to hug him. “Michael!” she squeaked.

“Hey, that’s not fair! You're twice our size, Michael!" Chamuel proclaimed, glancing mischievously at Jophiel.

Michael grinned. "Well, Chamuel, it's three against two now. I guess I'll just have to handicap myself by using only one wing!" he quipped, a playful glint in his eyes.

Jophiel chuckled, adjusting the celestial net with a flick of his wrist. "Oh, come on, Michael. Don't you remember the last time you played against us? You nearly sent the ball into orbit!"

Chamuel nodded in agreement, his serene demeanor masking a hint of competitiveness. "Let's give Emily a fighting chance, brother. Maybe this time, we'll let her win," he added with a wink.

Emily puffed out her chest, a determined look on her face. "Hey, I can defend my score just fine! With Michael on my team, you two don't stand a chance!"

Michael patted her head affectionately. "That's the spirit, Emily. Let's show them what we're made of!"

The game resumed with renewed energy. Michael served the ball with a powerful yet controlled hit, sending it soaring over the net. Jophiel darted to the side, barely managing to deflect it back. Chamuel moved with graceful precision, setting up a perfect shot for Jophiel, who spiked it towards Emily.

Emily leapt into the air, her wings giving her an extra boost, and hit the ball back with surprising force. Michael positioned himself perfectly, using just one wing to keep his promise, and sent the ball flying past Chamuel's outstretched hands.

"Point for us!" Emily cheered, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

"Not bad, not bad," Jophiel admitted, a competitive grin spreading across his face. "But we're just getting started."

The game continued with fierce yet friendly competition, laughter and playful banter filling the air. Michael and Emily worked in perfect harmony, their coordination a testament to their skills. Michael's powerful yet precise hits and Emily's agile movements created a formidable team.

Despite their best efforts, Jophiel and Chamuel found themselves on the losing side. Michael's strategic plays and Emily's relentless enthusiasm proved too much for them.

As the final point was scored, Michael and Emily high-fived, their victory secured. "Looks like we beat you fair and square," Michael teased, a triumphant smile on his face.

Jophiel and Chamuel exchanged amused glances, their competitive spirits undiminished. "Alright, you win this round," Chamuel conceded, a good-natured grin spreading across his face. "But next time, we won't go easy on you."

Emily laughed, the sound echoing through the celestial realm. "I'll be looking forward to it. But for now, let's celebrate our victory with a well-deserved break."

The four of them settled onto the sands, basking in the warmth of their companionship. At that moment, the weight of Michael’s responsibilities and anxieties seemed to lift, leaving only the pure joy of being in the presence of his brothers and Emily.

Jophiel, leaning back on his elbows, glanced at Michael with a playful smirk. "So, brother dearest, what brings you here to grace us with your presence?"

Michael grinned, reaching over to ruffle Jophiel's hair, messing it up. "What, I can't come to see my baby brothers?"

Both Jophiel and Chamuel simultaneously protested, "We're not babies!"

Michael laughed, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. "Oh, you'll always be babies in my eyes," he teased, earning groans of annoyance from his younger brothers.

Emily giggled, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "You know, Michael, it's true. They still pout like babies when they lose a game," she said playfully, sticking out her tongue at Jophiel and Chamuel.

Jophiel rolled his eyes, but a smile tugged at his lips. "Oh, come on, Emily. You're just saying that because you had Michael on your team."

Chamuel nodded in agreement, his serene demeanor masking his competitive spirit. "Yeah, next time, we'll make sure to even the odds."

Emily grinned, her laughter infectious. "Alright, alright. But just remember, even babies can grow up to be pretty awesome," she added with a wink, earning more good-natured groans from Jophiel and Chamuel.

Chamuel chuckled, shaking his head. "It's been a while, big brother."

"Yeah, work's been a lot lately," Michael replied with a sigh, though his tone remained light.

Chamuel's expression softened, his usual calm demeanor radiating warmth. "If you want to talk about it, I'm here for you, brother."

Michael waved off his brother's concern with a playful brush of his hand. "Maybe later, Chamuel. Right now, I'm just enjoying the break."

Turning to Emily, Michael's eyes lit up with genuine admiration. "By the way, Emily, your light show at the banquet was spectacular."

Jophiel and Chamuel chimed in with their praise, each recalling their favorite parts of the display. Emily's face lit up with pride and joy as she listened to their compliments.

As the four conversed, in the distance, Sera was watching the four of them. She saw that once they had finished playing the ball game and sat down, Sera set her wings to fly to them. She flew down gracefully, her wings shimmering in the celestial light, and approached them.

The moment Sera came into view, Emily, Jophiel, and Chamuel brightened, greeting her warmly. "Sera!" Emily exclaimed, stood up and ran to give her a hug.

However, Michael's mood instantly soured at the sight of her. He forced a smile, trying to keep the peace.

Sera greeted them all, her eyes lingering on Michael. "Hello, everyone. Michael, I need to speak with you."

Michael nodded, his expression neutral. "Of course, Sera." He got up and turned to his siblings and Emily, offering a reassuring smile. "I'll be back soon."

With that, Michael and Sera walked away, putting some distance between themselves and the others to talk in private.

The tension between them was palpable. The celestial light bathed them in a soft glow, but it did little to ease Michael’s wariness. Once they were out of earshot, Sera turned to him, her expression unexpectedly remorseful.

"Michael," she began, her voice softer than he had anticipated. "I owe you an apology."

Michael's eyes widened in surprise. He had expected a reprimand for his outspokenness at the CCC, not an apology. His skepticism was evident as he studied her face, waiting for the catch.

Sera, sensing his skepticism, continued, "I realized what I did was not right, sending Gabriela away. But it was all for the best interest of Heaven. For you and your brothers."

Michael's jaw tightened. Choosing his words carefully, he replied, "It wasn't necessary for Gabriela to descend to Hell to become an archangel. My brothers and I are okay; we don't need more help."

Sera cut in, her tone firm but not unkind. "Michael, you don't understand. The balance between Heaven and Hell is becoming delicate. We need all the help and power we can muster to be prepared."

Michael sighed, sensing that their discussion was about to go in circles again. "Like you said before, Sera. What's done is done. But I wish you would have at least consulted with me first."

Sera nodded, a hint of regret in her eyes. "I know, but you and I both know that you wouldn't have agreed if you had known beforehand."

Michael had no response to that.

In the distance, he saw Emily, Chamuel, and Jophiel building a sandcastle, their laughter and joy in stark contrast to their serious and gloomy conversation.

Sera followed his gaze and continued, "Everything we do, Michael, the decisions we make, the actions we take, it's for the greater good of Heaven. It's us against them," she said. "We do it to protect those we love." Her eyes softened as she watched Emily, Chamuel, and Jophiel.

Michael felt a conflict rising within him again. Sera was right. He loved his brothers and did everything in his power to protect them. Lucifer, though once cherished, had made his choice. Michael had to be there for his brothers in Heaven.

Sera, sensing his turmoil, added, "And that's why I believe it is only right if you're the one to guide Gabriela."

Michael turned to Sera, his eyes searching hers for any hint of deceit. She conjured a small, ornate compact mirror and held it out to him.

"This is what you will use to communicate with her. She will reach out to you." she explained. "You're Gabriela's mentor and know her best."

Michael carefully took the mirror into his hands, feeling the weight of it both physically and emotionally.

"My mercy is plentiful and I trust that you will do the right thing," Sera continued, "But my stance is clear. You will have boundaries with Gabriela and you’re still not allowed to go to Hell.”

Michael sensed there was something much larger at play but decided not to question it. At least he had something that tied him to Gabriela for now, some way to ensure her safety, even if indirectly.

"Thank you, Sera," he said, his voice heavy with unspoken words.

Sera nodded, her eyes softening. "Guide her well, Michael. And remember, everything we do is for them” as she turned her gaze again at Emily, Chamuel, and Jophiel, in their own bubble of happiness.

With that, she turned and flew away. Michael stood there for a moment, the mirror clutched in his hand, feeling a mix of hope and despair. He took a deep breath, then walked back to join his siblings and Emily.

Michael stood there for a moment, the mirror clutched in his hand, feeling a mix of hope and despair. He took a deep breath, then walked back to join his brothers and Emily.

As he approached, Chamuel noticed the mixed expression on Michael's face and asked, "Michael, is everything okay?"

Michael, with the small compact mirror hidden in his hand, gave a reassuring smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

The weight of the mirror felt disproportionate to its size, a tangible reminder of the responsibility he now carried. Within its small frame lay a lifeline to Gabriela, the angel who meant more to him than he dared to admit. His heart was a maelstrom of conflicting emotions: hope that he could guide her, despair at the thought of her losing, and a gnawing uncertainty about what lay ahead.

The mirror, though delicate and beautiful, felt like a heavy burden. It was a fragile connection to Gabriela in the harsh, unforgiving realm of Hell. The thought of her alone in that place, facing unknown dangers, twisted his insides. The hope that he could help her, be a source of strength and guidance, was the only thing keeping him from being completely overwhelmed by despair.

He lost Lucifer and he wouldn’t lose Gabriela.

Michael's mind raced with possibilities, each more harrowing than the last. He forced himself to focus on the present, to be the steadfast leader his siblings believed him to be. He couldn't afford to let his own fears show, not when they looked to him for reassurance and strength.

"Nevermind, everything’s ok.”

Chamuel nodded, his easy going nature always bringing a sense of calm. "If you say so, brother. Just remember, we're here if you need us."

Michael placed a hand on Chamuel's shoulder, appreciating his brother's concern. "I know, Chamuel. Thank you."

He then turned to Jophiel and Emily, who were still engrossed in their sandcastle. "Take care, you two. I'll see you soon."

Jophiel looked up and smiled. "Don't worry about us, Michael. We'll be here, keeping things beautiful and peaceful."

Emily ran over and hugged Michael tightly. "Be safe, Michael."

He returned the hug, feeling a warmth in his heart despite the turmoil within. "I will, Emily. I promise."

With that, Michael spread his wings and took to the skies, the compact mirror securely in his grasp. As he soared higher, he focused on the task ahead, mentally preparing himself for when Gabriela would reach out.

Flying through the celestial expanse, Michael's thoughts centered on Gabriela. He felt a renewed sense of resolve, a determination to support her despite the distance and danger.

As he approached his destination, Michael's mind cleared, and a steely resolve settled in his heart. No matter the challenges ahead, he would be there for Gabriela, ready to guide and protect her. With a final deep breath, he landed softly, ready to wait for her call and fulfill his duty as her mentor and guardian.

*********************************************************

Thank you reading!

Story also available on AO3

Chapter Twelve: Monsters

#hazbin hotel #zestial x oc #zestial #hazbin hotel angel oc #hazbin hotel oc #hazbin hotel heaven #hazbin lucifer #lucifer hazbin hotel #archangel michael oc #hazbin hotel sera #hazbin hotel emily #emily hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel original character #hazbin hotel archangels #hazbin hotel michael #hazbin hotel raphael #hazbin hotel uriel #hazbin hotel azrael #hazbin hotel jophiel

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ifyougoillfollow · 2 years

Text

a song for a song

"Can you sing, senpai?"

Hizashi winces. He hadn't meant to cut Kayama off, even if he hasn't been entirely listening to a word she's said for the past hour or so.

Kayama straightens from her crouch, hands him yet another fistful of dirt-clodded roots to stuff into his increasingly soiled satchel. At this point, he's going to have to wash it. And his robes. And his hair, too, while he's at it. He should have braided it; it's getting kind of long. Now there's probably bugs in it.

Hizashi refuses to cry about it. Plenty of other things to cry about nowadays, and he's yet to cry about any of those, so bugs? Not gonna do it. Not today.

Kayama eyes him a little like she was eyeing those roots on the forest floor a second ago, but in the end she only snorts and says, "You're the bard here, not me."

"And you're the witch, yet here I am with dirty, smelly herbs in my robes."

"No one asked you to come, snotbrain."

Hizashi takes a moment to remind himself that he is not crying today, then says, "Well, fortunately for you, senpai, Aizawa has gotten much better at evading me with his stealthy ninja skills, so looks like you're stuck with my lovely, charmingly clingy self for the foreseeable future."

"Lucky me, indeed," Kayama mutters, even as she's foisting more assorted foliage onto Hizashi's wary arms. She waits until he deems each twig adequately bug-free before setting off again into whatever new direction through the trees her witchy senses are leading her towards.

"Yeah, I can sing," she answers at length, "I guess. Probably not as well as you can, though, if we're being honest. Not exactly my specialty, is it?"

There was a time, not two moons ago, when Hizashi would have preened at his senpai's first-ever admission that she likes his singing. Now, it just serves as a reminder of all the songs he's had caught in his throat since Oboro died.

Kayama is not looking at him, too busy charming her way through previously virgin forest brush in order to allow them easier passage. Hizashi feels her scrutiny regardless. The air is clear and sweet and open. Inviting. Hushed like a sated dinner crowd awaiting the first song of the evening. The absence where Hizashi's song would be if he weren't choking on it rings louder than his voice ever could.

Kayama slows, her shoulders rising gently in what could be a breath or a sigh. Hizashi nearly hightails it out of the forest right then and there – bugs and blushing virgin underbrush be damned – but when Kayama speaks it's only to tell him to keep an eye out for a flower that 'kind of looks like two monkeys fornicating,' and then she's off again about herbs and roots and spices and their many medicinal and decidedly non-medicinal applications.

She has a lovely voice, even when just speaking. Full and rich and with a little too much heat, like smoke from a spitting hearth fire. Hizashi's always wondered what it'd sound like in song, can't stop wondering even as she goes on and on about dirt and leaves and bark, until she finally stops to contemplate a vine unfurling from what might very well be the heavens for all the attention Hizashi's paying to it.

"Sing for me," he says, unable to choke the words down.

Kayama snorts, keeps contemplating her vine. "What, right now?"

Because that wasn't a 'no' and because she's not looking at him and because the clear forest air remains bereft of song, Hizashi asks, "Why not?"

"I don't know many songs, for one."

"Choose whatever. Anything at all."

"What if I choose a terrible song?" she asks, affecting a pout.

"No such thing, senpai!"

She rolls her eyes and bats the vine at him, but it's only a few beats before she caves. "Honestly, I only know lullabies," she says. "You know – for fussy little babies."

Hizashi laughs. "Lullabies are good! Sing me a lullaby, senpai!"

Kayama's answering grin is more teeth than anything, and it's also the first sign that Hizashi has walked into a trap. "All right," she says, voice too-innocent, "if you insist. Follow me." She flashes another snaketooth grin at him and disappears behind a curtain of vines.

At the sight of the lone finger she sticks back through to beckon him forward, Hizashi once again considers taking his chances on a solo sprint back out of the woods. In the end, his curiosity wins out over his meager self-preservation instincts. He follows.

The two-step trek through the vines is harrowing, but what he finds on the other side might be even more so. It's a perfectly picturesque clearing. Suspiciously picturesque. The clearing is warm and bright and cozy, with lush cloud-cover trees surrounding a bed of down-soft grass and wildflowers. There's even a brook babbling quietly to itself off to the side. A far cry from the barely tamed woods two steps behind him.

Kayama, perched on the grass below a swaying willow, laughs at whatever expression is on Hizashi's face. "Welcome to my den of decadence," she all but purrs, "where I bring all my... conquests."

Hizashi tries not to balk. Tries.

Kayama cackles. "Oh, don't flatter yourself. You wanted me to sing you a lullaby, so I'm going to sing you a lullaby. Properly." She pats a spot on the ground right next to her. "Come here."

Hizashi, forever hapless in the face of his senpai's schemes, does as he's told. Once he's seated, Kayama roots around in her bag for some incense to light ("For the bugs," she informs him with a roll of her eyes) and a stoppered vial filled with an unidentified lavender-colored liquid.

"For you," she says expectantly.

Hizashi downs the contents of the vial without question. It tastes like too-sweet perfume, but he's had worse tonics from Chiyo-sensei, so he doesn't complain.

"It's a new sleep potion I'm working on," Kayama explains, even though he hadn't asked. "I've been meaning to test it, but I haven't had any willing volunteers due to what happened last time – which wasn't even my fault, if anyone's asking – and Chiyo-sensei says slipping potions into other people's food is unethical because she's no fun, so here we are."

For his own peace of mind, Hizashi elects not to ask what happened last time. "How long will it take to work," he asks instead, "and how long will I stay asleep?"

"No idea, that's why we're testing it. Now lay back, unless you want to crack your skull if it takes effect suddenly."

Hizashi eyes the grassy ground warily. "How effective is this fancy incense of yours at keeping bugs away again?"

"Oh, come here, you big baby." She tugs at him until he's laying down with his head pillowed on her lap. Hizashi does his level best to not perish on the spot. She flicks him on the forehead. "Relax, already. I won't bite unless you ask me to."

"Not helping," Hizashi grumbles, willfully ignoring his fever-hot face.

Kayama's thigh is warm under his cheek, and she smells like twigs and earth and wildflowers, and Hizashi is not crushing on his senpai – he is not – but suddenly he understands all too clearly why Oboro had once badgered him for weeks to serenade Kayama on his behalf, until Hizashi had agreed on the condition that Oboro write the lyrics himself (and make that fact clear to all present witnesses), which he did, happily, and the lyrics had been terrible and mortifying and damned near impossible to put to melody, but Hizashi had put his bardly reputation on the line and done it, and Kayama had, of course, laughed like he's never heard her laugh before or since, but had also been so obviously charmed by it that Oboro didn't stop smiling for the rest of the week. If all of Hizashi's songs hadn't died with Oboro, he'd be singing that one right now.

"Sing for me, senpai," he says, because his eyes are starting to burn and because she promised and because this moment calls for song. Every moment calls for song.

"You're the bard here," says Kayama, fingers tugging knots from his hair, "not me."

"Please..."

"A song for a song, then."

"Sleepy..." he mumbles, and it's an excuse, but it's also the truth, his limbs heavy as sun-warmed sand.

"When you wake up."

He shakes his head.

"Why not?"

"Can't," he whispers, too tired to scream.

"Sure you can. You're a bard."

Is that what he is? Kayama-senpai sure seems to think so. She keeps saying it. Why does she have to keep saying it?

"I'm not singing until you say it."

No. That's not fair. She promised.

"Yamada." She smacks his sleep-numb cheek until he looks up at her blearily. "You're a bard. Aren't you?"

"I'm a bard," says Hizashi, because if there's one thing he's good at, it's telling people what they need to hear.

"Good boy," says his senpai, and she's not smiling any kind of smile, but she does finally – finally – start to sing.

Her voice is as lovely and Hizashi knew it would be, and the song – well, the song is lovely, too, in the way that all songs are lovely, even though this particular song is about a busy baby bee winding down for bedtime. Hizashi lets the lyrics wash over and through him, but the melody – the melody he soaks up along with Kayama's voice, lets it seep into the very core of him, into the sun-spooled place nestled deep behind his rib-cage from where his songs and his soul and his spells flow and flourish, and he knows without a doubt that he will never be without song again, because if nothing else, he'll always have this one simple melody, soft and whole and true.

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unknownfrom34 · 9 months

Text

In a Flight of Fight

Another one that I had thought of for our lovely @muzzleroars today. (I know the title will be Flight or fight but I like this better.)

I had decided to write up this bad boy before it ended up in drafts for some time until I decided to continue on it.

This is what I can think after they receive their helms from God after he made another batch of them. It is inspired by this scene in the Prince of Egypt movie. Also: I do not condune violence and brawling to children. Do not do this at home or Heaven or even in Hell itself if you are an Archangel.

Enjoy the chaos! EMBRACE THE CHAOS >:D

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

It hasn't even been a full 3 years yet and already they are throwing themselves at each other in a sheer strength they had been born with.

The word "roughhousing" is what word you would create to describe the unwavering chaos they leave behind in their wake if you're in Lucifer's shoes.

Roughhousing is nothing compared to the oncoming destruction they had created throughout their faithful warrior training during their time on Mars.

"You are nothing but a woodcock to me, Gabriel! You fly like one!" Michael's words echoed down towards the rapidly approaching Archangel. He was grabbed and he and his brother were throwing down into the ground below them. Whoever has been building the cathedral below them is going to pretty much cry and then a potential stress-induced meltdown upon seeing their work reduced to debris of marble, stone and iron.

"I would like to see you fly like a woodcock after this, Michael!" Gabriel laughed before he was kicked off when the Prince in Training planted his feet onto his chest firmly like he was taught to do when an enemy was pinning him down and the fastest Cherub was thrown into a pillar with a yell.

Michael jumped onto his feet and into a standance as he lifted his hands up and then pulled them away from his face but as he did, the chain of heavenly gold appeared and it was yanked at both directions his fists had gone to. He pulled back and with the chain acting as a whip, he threw it towards his brother just as he was began to recover but he teleported away just in time for the chains instead wrapping around the pure-white pillar inside and being yanked back to him, breaking it in the process. "Where did you go!?"

As if to answer, a laugh had come from his upper right and he was grabbed and flown out of the cathedral before Gabriel was punched into letting him go as he falls and unfurls his four wings just in time when he was falling into the near star-sprinkled filled void below.

He flies and flies back up towards his opponent before he yelps in shock upon seeing him by his side. "Michael!" He yelled through the airless cosmos. "Do you ever think your name will be written in the stars?"

"One day, yes." He yelled in answer, he wasn't aware on what Gabriel is planning to do until its too late. "How about now?" and before Michael could react, he was punched.

One can easily mistake him as a delicate purple colored shooting star due to the sheer strength the latter had portrayed as he was flying across the Eighth sphere and crashes through one house of an unfortunate angel that was busy building it before it was destroyed by a living makeshift meteorite, crashing through a tower and then soon crash-landing into a lush field at last and leaving a crater with dirt and soil covering him.

He groaned as he pushes himself back on his feet as he lifted his hand to soothe the fire burning in his upper arm but that clarity was cut short when he noticed a beam of blue light heading right towards him. He quickly jumped and flew away from the crater right away for Gabriel to crashed into it.

"You could've killed me!" "Oh come now, Michael," Gabriel chuckled as he flapped upwards after him, a sword made from golden dust is now at the ready. "Whatever happen to your sense of fun?" he question as he beat his wings to go faster, catching up to his brother at speeds.

"Oh?" The Eagle sensed the smile returned to cub quickly. "So it's fun you want?" Michael then stops mid air with a golden spear materializes from nowhere and aims carefully for his brother and threw it towards him. Gabriel immediately reacted with light forming two swords of his own and then clashed them both and then gliding on blades, he swiftly deflecting it.

It spun fast but he grabbed it without a single cut on him as the chains wrapped around his waist jingled and rattled through the wind. Four wings pushed forward and soon he flies towards him with a yell as he done the same.

Weapons of light clashed onto one another and crashed with sparks ignited before the latter was able to grab him. Wrapped him in chains, Michael was straddled his brother as they fell down together, Gabriel struggled as he received one punch after another before the strength returned to him to recall the one thing in training: teleport.

Enveloped in a blue glow and soon he vanished in a glow of light, leaving Michael falling by himself with chains collapsed the shape of the small Archangel before he felt a foot stepped onto his back and soon they fall down faster as afterimages were left behind by his attacker.

They crashed into another holy building and in a rumble, Gabriel was kicked off of him and with a battle cry, Michael flew towards him with the spear with the intent of striking him down but he kept dodging.

"Why." Another miss. "Won't." another miss. "You." another miss. "Stay." another miss once again. "Still?!"

In frustration, he threw chains again and binding Gabriel to the pillars, walls, floors and ceiling, anywhere to hold him in place. He struggled to break free but the chains themselves are made from light and created to specially made to imprison and kept divine beings.

Yet, this did not deter him and continued to struggle but the chains tighten around him and a yelp left him when he felt the tip of the golden blade pointed at his throat. Gabriel stopped and looked at him, chest heaving in and out.

"I win." Michael panted, "...Brother." there was a sense of satisfaction in that tone. He can hear it from his voice. But just as Michael was basking in the glory, a crack was heard from somewhere. Gabriel looked at the source and gasped just as Michael turned to look as well. Eyes widen when he noticed.

The cracks from the ceilings where the chains had been nailed to began to spread. Others slowly began to follow suit as the integrity of the church is beginning to wither as they both turned to look at each other with growing worry.

Debris falling down was the first warning and the last warning that came soon after?

CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASH

The building is collapsing all around them, pillars fell down, chains rattled, yells and screaming coming from them both as dust filled the air as the ceiling broke and fell onto them both yet blinding light came soon in a flash just as everything around them fell apart.

... ... ... ... ...

"You two are alright, you can open your eyes now." A familiar gentle voice cooed to them both. Sounded annoyed but he has easily masked it.

Michael and Gabriel opened their eyes and one look around, they are outside and in the skies, overlooking the destroyed church and they both look up to see Lucifer, holding them both in his arms as his wings beat steadily.

Lucifer looked at them both with a stern look. "I assume another roughhouse of yours?" he questioned them both as he looked at them in his arms. They nodded their heads, rather worried had jittered them both. He sighed.

"You two know this." He flew until he finds a balcony with a first foot and the other. "They have all worked on this sphere and others, I fear the Father will get wind of these fights you two are putting up." he gently puts them both on the ground. By height of them, Michael is near to his chest and Gabriel is a tad shorter than him but they looked up to him.

He turned them around and hands on their backs, guiding them to somewhere. "Raphael and Uriel were building additionally and I know that you both know what they will feel if their work was reduced to rumble."

"I am sorry, Lu." "I repent for what I have done, Lucifer." They both apologized.

They walked through the hall, smoke rose from their little battle had alerted the other angels and a sight of them flying towards the ruins of structures. The three turned to look at the sight as the stardust clouds swirled with pinks and yellows with sprinkles danced across the darkness. No doubt that he will explain on their behalf to the Lord later but still he breathed in and out slowly, maintaining his composure. He nodded and then closed his eye, sighing softly. "Why the Father had blessed me with four brothers when the other two were so reckless and destructive?" he spoke to himself and then he turned to them both.

"If you two want to continue training, please let it be in the Fifth Sphere the next time." He said as they turned to look at him. "Please do so, I am sure the warriors will have to dealt with your path of Blasphemy and chaos." he lightly joked but they both knew the first part is serious. Michael, looking at Lucifer and worried for a moment and Gabriel can see it.

"Do you think we will get in trouble for this, don't you?" he asked. Gabriel turned to Lucifer once again but he shook his head. "Do not worry, I am sure He will understand." he then looked at them both and noticed many things on them both.

They are covered in dust and dirt.

Based on movements, they are left quite drowsy.

Another consequences for their actions when they decided to fight, without a drop of doubt. But still, they have reached to where he wanted them to go.

"You are tired and filthy from the fight," he then reached out and pulled the fabric, holding the way open for the sprinkling springs for angels to wash up. "Come now, let's get you two wash up before nightfall."

#ULTRAKILL #Gabriel #Michael #Lucifer #not my ocs #fanfic #litterature #creative writing

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