#angelofthenight

[the-haiku-bot]

Pavi, struggling

to hold a seagull: Well you

should’ve said that, then!

Beep boop! I look for accidental haiku posts. Sometimes I mess up.

Amber: When I said bring me something back from the beach, I meant like a cute souvenir!

Pavi, struggling to hold a seagull: Well you should’ve said that, then!

[1donoow]

MIX FANDOM FANFIC REC PT.2

[Fanfics i've read]

Edited

......

♡ - smut

Mostly fluff

......

Fantastic beast [newt scamander]

harry potter [wolfstar][remus lupin][regulus black][james potter]

the black phone [vance hooper]

enola holmes [sherlock holmes]

the walking dead [glenn rhee]

outa [peter pan][felix]

maze runnner [newt][gally]

dune [duke leto atreides]

rise of the guardians [jack frost][bunnymund]

big hero 6 [tadashi hamada][hiro hamada]

·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·

———FANTASTIC BEAST————

newt scamander

@moonlit-imagines - your husband coming home to find a baby niffler hanging from your neck

@spideyharrington - one and the same

————HARRY POTTER————

wolfstar

@wolfstardaughter-jj - like fathers,like daughter

@masivechaos - you remind me of him

·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·

remus lupin

@ddejavvu - grumpy remus x sunshine reader

- ___

- y/n loving when remus ramble

- sleepy cuddles with remus

·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·

regulus black

@ddejavvu - the reader intentionally mistook sirius as snape

·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·

james potter

@reysdriver - lucky charm

———THE BLACK PHONE———

vance hopper

@angelofthenight - are we about to kiss?

@mirrorballshiningjustforyou - vance with a opposite reader

- vance x cheerleader reader

————ENOLA HOLMES————

sherlock holmes

@marvelousmando - the game is afoot indeed

@love-strawberry - we'll be alright

@st-juliet - pulse point ♡

———THE WALKING DEAD———

glenn rhee

@the-daily-multi-fandom-post - gleens lover girl

@refiwrites - tepidity

@captain-tch - trinkets

——————OUAT————————

@thepiratequeenofneverland - A Poly introduction

·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·

peter pan

@heliads - dating peter pan would include

@evangeline-perry - peter pan relationship

@bad268 - peter pan fluff alphabet

@justpan - Kindness and Cruelty 

@mysadcorner - peter with a quiet!reader

·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·

felix

@goldenxshine - dating felix and wearing glasses would include

————MAZE RUNNER—————

@toxicbubblegum212 - snow in the glade

@virginia-peters - ___

@givemearock - tmr boys if you gave them a rock

·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·

newt

@heliads - men and tea

@witchthewriter - jealous newt with a medjack girlfriend would include

·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·

gally

@cantstoptheimagines - rbf

@writingandimagines - gally teaching you how to defend yourself

@5sospenguinqueen - dating gally would include

@gladerscake - territorial

@witchthewriter - being gally's s/o would include

——————DUNE————————

duke leto atreides

@nonpoppin - beard

@dailyreverie - you are what’s important right now

- your touch

- hugging them from behind, laying their head on the other’s shoulder

@starryeyedstories - like real people do

@catlordewrites - in the water

- a little less lonely

@lightsinthedistancee - how it feel to be free

@geo-winchester - like we used to be

@supernovafeather - new home ♡

@letstalkaboutshtufff - opposites attract

@pumpkin-stars - stalwart

@ophelialoveshandsomemen - you're handsome with snowflakes in your beard

——RISE OF THE GUARDIAN——

jack frost

@imagines-dreams - ___ (cupid!reader)

·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·

bunnymund

@razzlerdazzler - bunnymund with a halloween spirit s/o who likes spring and easter

@daydreaming-away-reality - the sweetest thank you (mother nature!reader)

—————BIG HERO 6—————

tadashi hamada

@multi-fandom-imagine - pop rock kiss

- ___

@subtly-a-selkie - tadashi is here pt1

·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·

hiro hamada

@thequeenrains - a night to a decade

@bigherosix2 - quarantining with hiro

@maycat-19-142 - ___ (poison!reader)

[zepp-l1n]

Nikolai: What color are Nina's eyes?

Reader: The most glistening green, so deep you could get lost in them.

Nikolai: When was the last time we saw her?

Reader: 14 minuets and 41 seconds ago.

Nikolai: And when did we first meet her?

Reader: Just yesterday, but it feels like I've known her for a millennium.

Nikolai: And when is my birthay?

Reader: ...

Nikolai: When is my birthday, (Y/N)?

(Source: @angelofthenight)

[do-not-lick-the-walls]

Hi! i love your writing, i was wondering if you could do a beelzebub head cannon list?

love like yours | beelzebub headcanons

masterlist

a/n: ahhh hi nonnie! Thank you so much for my first request!! <3 ive never done a headcanon list before, so I hope this is good/what you meant! I went with some falling in love stuff since you didn't specify any theme or anything. Happy Valentines!

ineffable taglist: @sarcastic-sourwolf , @angelofthenight <3

---

• They fall without realizing it.

• Centuries of shoving down every positive emotion has them so, so horribly out of touch with their feelings. They don't believe they're actually capable of love. Or anything else that... soft.

• But you make something bubble up in their chest. A kind of fluttering that's refusing to stay down, no matter how many times they stuff it back under the bed.

• It's infuriating.

• It's fascinating.

• You're fascinating.

• Every habit, every mannerism, every little oddity of yours they discover is pinned to the map of you that keeps popping up in their head.

• They don't mean to study you so intensely, it just... keeps happening.

• How can they not?? You're just sitting there being so damn interesting, what else are they supposed to do? Confront their own feelings? Hahahahahahaha

• No.

• They're falling harder every day and desperately trying to ignore the shit out of it.

• Eventually the council gets fed up and stages an intervention. All this emotional repression is piled on so thick its becoming a workplace hazard.

• "You need to get it together, Beez. This is physically painful to watch."

• "I am not in love!"

• "Stop lying. I found this poem in your room. Its horrible."

• "Give that back!!!"

• (The poem is bad. Like really, really bad. It never sees the light of day again, for everyone's benefit.)

• Even after they're done repeatedly going through all 5 stages of grief and finally accept that they love you, it still takes a while longer for them to fess up.

• They chicken out like 4 different times before finally going for it.

• They try to be suave and cool, but you kind of turn them into a puddle of lovestruck goop.

• They dont know how to express their feelings normally, let alone while you're standing right there in front of them, and looking at them with your gorgeous eyes and smiling your little smile and oh god oh fuck---

• It comes out as mostly a string of incoherent words and noises that sound like they might be having some kind of celestial stroke.

• When its clear they're not getting the point across, they just kiss you.

• ...?

• ...!

• !!!!!

• That does the trick.

• <3

[lesbo5000]

Idk what to call this!

But I’ve been thinking of @angelofthenight Alex fic a lot- I liked that Pete would be a secondary love interest. It’s rlly good!

[girl-next-door-writes]

Thanks for tagging me in this @mylifeisactuallyamess I hope you're ready for the chaos that is my WIP folder...

Rules: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, then post a little snippet or tell them something about it. Tag as many people as you have WIPs.

Waiting for a love like this - Sam Winchester

Attraction - Dean Winchester

Comfort - Sam Winchester

Desolate Shores - Sam Winchester

The Long Way Home - Sam Winchester

Through These Crazy Times - Clint Barton

Baby you and me - Bucky Barnes

Protective - Loki

Friend Date - Steve and Bucky

I Want You Back - Tony

Two Princes - Loki

Just Give Me A Reason - Bucky

This Love - Pietro

Every time you walk by - Poe Dameron

Clumsy Custodian - Poe Dameron

Corridor Complaints - Hux

Love Story - Hux

Until I Found You - Hux

The Scientist - Hux

Fix You - Hux

We Are Young - Hux

Feel Good - Hux

Just Because - Mycroft

You don't have to convince me - Mycroft

Comfort - Mycroft

Beach - Mycroft

Sharing a smoke - Mycroft

Last Love - Mycroft

Cello - Mycroft

Film Noir - Mycroft

She's the one - Steve Harrington

My Hero - Clark Kent

Blind Date - George Weasley

Little Spoon - George Weasley

I Want To Hold Your Hand - Ominis Gaunt

Will You Still Love Me? - Ominis Gaunt

Strangers in the Night - Arthur Fleck

Tagging people but don't feel you have to join in.

@deanwinchesterswitch @caplanbuckybarnes @princessmisery666 @kjs-s @nobodys-baby-now @vintagevalentinex @kittenofdoomage @alloftheimaginesblog @imamotherfuckingstar-lord @impala-dreamer @redgillan @that-sokovian-bastard @evansrogerskitten @like-a-bag-of-potatoes @alicenwrites @sweetjedi @iwillbeinmynest @starlightsearches @meganlpie @morby @witchygagirl @riversong-sam @jokerownsmysoul @forbidden-amortentia @angelofthenight and anyone else who wants to share.

[your-averagewriter]

Get to know me!

Thank you for tagging me, @batgirlspain!

First ship: Probably something from Harry Potter

Three ships: Lois Lane and Clark Kent (DC), Tsireya and Lo'ak (Avatar: The Way of Water), Ed Nygma and Oswald Cobblepot (Gotham TV show).

Last song: "Broken Cash Machine" - Modern Baseball

Last movie: Star Wars: Episode II - Attack of the Clones (rewatched)

Currently reading: America Psycho + lots of fanfiction

Currently watching: Attack on Titan (rewatching)

Currently consuming: Gum?

Currently craving: Sleep, or for food probably a warm homemade meal.

People I'd like to know better: You don't have to reply to this or anything: @cyberbonesworld @batgirlspain (I know you tagged me but I feel the same haha) @batmanspain @angelofthenight.

[dylan-the-gay]

Sorry if i broke someones dni

1: pixelware(link) | 2: WeylinPlaya(link) | 3: SharkTheCat(link) | 4: nsp(link) | 5: MammaPrime(link) | 6: @yoshmo1991 | 7: angelofthenight(link) | 8: DanTheElementary(link) | 9: @seraphlite | 10: LovableCat1(link)

Attack numbers: 51-60

[southern-fried-simpin]

OMG EDDIE THANK YOU

Cracks knuckles

Let’s do this

@madame-fear @gothamitelove @darkmoviesquotespizza @patisilence @acapelladitty @empatheticsadist490 @angelofthenight @crowpocrypha @finniestoncrane @quandaryqueen

I'm gonna try to start a random chain (it probably won't work because I don't have a lot of followers but idc)

Just tag a few blogs u like and hope they awnser until it takes like 3 minutes to get to the bottom of the post lol

@lalaverdecia @meekspoetssociety @dazeddoodles @eighties-toons @leovaldiva3uwu @mythingsandstuff @spiritual-activity @that-thing-on-your-shoe

[bigchrisgallery]

Quick warm up doodle of Demona! #demona #gargoyles #disney #gargoylesdisney #art #drawing #sketch #illustration #comics #cartoon #90scartoons #fantasyart #cosplay #angelofthenight https://www.instagram.com/p/ChJF1-WMJEG/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[superreader30]

#Gargoyles #Demona #AngelOfTheNight #TheMirror #GargoylesMemes #GargoyleMemes #DemonaMemes #BigNo #TVTropes #Tropedia #MarinaSirtis #BoomerangBigot #Bigotry #Bigots #TVKarens #MovieKarens https://www.instagram.com/p/CekXR4hrY7GbmRQh63gnHTFbQeJMYX73UIXeaI0/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[purplelurkinghini]

I can't believe it took me until next year to notice these sexy editions.

@enigmamuse, oh, I'd say it'd be a missed opportunity not to have her reply in kind.

@angelofthenight, your friend is right, but him being into whips doesn't disqualify his being a dipshit and going: "Hello, Cat. I'm Curiosity. You're dead."

[thedarkcoven]

Love! Can't wait for more! @angelofthenight if you're still doing taglist could I be added for this series? 💕

The Monster You Created Pt.11

(Sam Fortner x Reader)

Warnings: Yandere!Sam, Dark themes, Swearing, Kidnapping situation, Unreciprocated love, Sam being a typical man

Word Count: 3.7k

Prev Part Next Part

“I have someone very special I’d like you to meet.” Sam said before walking over to the closed door with an energetic grin.

You leaned forward to try and see around him when he opened the door. Words that were too quiet and distant for you to hear were exchanged between the two of them. “Gene! I mean-Sam!” You heard a voice you didn’t recognize call out in between sounds of shuffling. Your heart began to pound in nervous avidity as you listened intently and moved your body around to try and get a glimpse into what was going on.

Sam’s back was the first thing to come out of the room, followed by him dragging somebody on a chair across the carpet. Your eyes went big at the sight of this new person he dragged out, the person in the chair being a blindfolded man and helplessly trying to reach out for something to grab ahold of to pull himself away. Your lips fell apart as Sam positioned his chair in the circle of your two chairs; between your right and Sam’s left. The gray haired and gray bearded man also had a chain locked around his ankle to which Sam quickly locked the end of it to the same panel as yours.

Sam walked back towards his chair, pulling off the older man’s blindfold as he passed him. The man made a shocked gasp through his mouth before adjusting his glasses that were hidden by the blindfold. The man looked around his surroundings quickly before settling on you, his small pupils glancing down at your matching chain. “Are… are you (S/n)?” He asked carefully through heavy breaths, his eyebrows curving upwards and his frown curving downwards. He looked utterly terrified.

You made a face at the name and turned your sharp gaze to Sam who seemed to suddenly grow a little nervous. “Yeah… I lied about that too.” The man snapped his head over to Sam as he spoke. “Her name’s actually (Y/n). Same reason why I lied about my own name. Also I told you I was a transport supervisor in a warehouse, but I lied about that too. I'm really a restaurant inspector with the Department of Public Health. I figured if I told you the truth, you'd write it down in your notes and the police would find it.” He ended his sentence with a small laugh, trying to lighten the mood yet you and the man’s uneasiness overpowered the tension.

The man looked back over to you a little twitchingly. “An-and you are his girlfriend.” Your head slightly leaned back in offense before looking back over at Sam with an irked expression. “You told him that?” You clarified angrily. Sam winced, still facing the man that still remained unnamed to you. “I lied about that too…” The man exhaled in disbelief, his mouth hung open. “Sorry…” Sam muttered.

Sam’s voice hung in the air, echoing in your ears due to how hard your heart was pounding behind your tight chest. “Sam. Why is this man here?” You asked sternly yet your voice still sounded wound up. Sam’s lips pursed quickly, as if he was getting excited almost. He extended his hand in the direction of the man as if he was presenting him. “I would like you to meet Doctor Alan Strauss. My therapist.”

Your eyes widened, lashes grazing your eyelid as shock smacked you in the face. “Your therapist? Holy shit, Sam. Why-why would bring him here? He has nothing to do with what’s going on. Are you just trying to limit how many things you do without me?” You shakingly shook your head, trying to wrap your head around his possible reasonings for doing such a thing.

“No, it’s… it’s not about me.” Sam began but you suddenly didn’t care about what he had to say, your worried attention attaching to the poor older man. “I am so sorry about all of this, Mr. Strauss. Are you okay?” You said to him with big, apologetic eyes and leaning towards his direction.

Sam chuckled. “He’s a doctor, (Y/n). He didn’t go through ten years of school to be called ‘Mr’.” Although he meant it to be a teasing joke, it translated to nothing but condescending mockery to anyone who could hear him. You forced yourself to the best of your ability to ignore his comment, knowing how deeply it would irk you and send you barreling into more flashbacks of many other men talking to you in that way. Like you were stupid and they found it amusing.

Alan paid no mind to Sam’s joke, more focused on you as he felt safer with you than Sam, his kidnapper. “I’m just…” he struggled to find the words, many emotions clawing at his senses, “very… lost and confused.”

Your sharp glare returned to the brunet across from you. “Sam, why is he here?” Sam’s chest heaved, hinting his secret inhale. “I’ve already told Dr. Strauss about my compulsions and everything going on between us.” He looked over to Alan. “And Dr. Strauss I know you constantly tell me you’re not a couples counselor but… you’re the only one I believe in.” Alan’s jaw was stuck open, his stone eyes never leaving Sam as if he was taking his time trying to grasp onto the reality of this whole situation. Sam was much more focused on you though.

“And (Y/n)... I mostly just brought him… for you.”

“…What.” The word didn’t come off as a question, just a word to spit out as you lacked the time to think of the word that described what you really felt about that statement, or what you felt about Sam at the moment. No. You knew what to call him, what you wanted to call him. A cunt.

“You can have someone to talk to, open up to, someone professional who will give you explanations to why you do certain things and help you understand why. Someone who can help you become self-aware.” He explained, restraining his smile as best he could as his excitement was getting too energetic.

“Self-aware of what?” You question a little louder than you expected, overestimating your anger towards his audacity. Your teeth threatened to grind together as your jawline was tightening.

“You know.” Sam glanced down before reconnecting eye contact, shyness suddenly prompting awkwardness. “How much your…” he stopped himself from using the term ‘daddy issues’, fearing that would make more mad than you already were, “father problems affected you mentally.”

You stood up from your chair so fast both men flinched. “I can’t believe you!” You yelled, furious over the fact that Sam has still been hung up on that theory. “I told you, I’m fine! My dad did not fuck me up! My childhood trauma is in the past and does not affect who I am today!” In the back of your mind, you feared that these two men were not taking you seriously and are only seeing you throw a tantrum. Like how they all did. But the oven of your anger was still hot and was not cooling down enough for you to gather all the thoughts running in your mind without your awareness or permission. “What? I’m Frankenstein’s monster because daddy didn’t teach me to ride a fucking bike!?”

“No! How it affects your love life! How it affects how you choose your boyfriends!” Sam yelled back up at you, trying to reach your volume.

“My exes are NOT like my dad!” You screamed manically, not knowing why you got so defensive over this; not realizing Sam was touching a nerve you didn’t know was sensitive. Tears bordered your eyes but you couldn’t tell if it was from frustration or some other emotion.

“But they are!” Sam refuted, desperation infecting his expression. He snapped his head over to Alan, whose state seemed to only worsen, and gestured toward you with a voice of whiny begging. “Dr. Strauss, tell her!”

“Sam!” Alan abruptly snapped, surprising both you and Sam to silence. He rocked his head into his hands for a few seconds before running them down his face, looking over to Sam with quivering eyes. “I… I-I can’t help her here. Keeping her here is affecting her mentally the most right now.” A softness plucked the fire from your pupils as you looked over to Alan, feeling so warmly grateful that you finally had a sane person to defend you instead of encouraging Sam. “I cannot treat her here. And, technically, I can’t be your couples counselor if you are not a couple.” Alan said with a deep frown and fearful moving shrug.

Sam huffed through his nose, biting his cheeks in small resentment. “Fine. Not a couple, but we do have a relationship with each other that needs some mending and aiding.” Alan sighed in disbelief and frustration. “Sam, you’re not… I cannot treat you both individually all for the sake of you becoming a loving couple.”

“Why not?”

Alan’s mouth was hung open but no sentences came out. “Well.. It just…”

“Yeah. ‘S what I thought.” Sam gruffly said, a sneer teasing his mouth. A heavy silence invaded the area once again, everyone stuck in their own train of thoughts. Sam stared at Alan who looked to be in misery about what he was asking him to do.

“After I do it,” Sam began, “I'm... just… I bet most people couldn't… feel like that. It's not a normal feeling. It's more like... dead. I need to get better. I want to be normal, for her.” He glanced to you who had your eyes trained to the carpeted floor. “Isn't that what you… enjoy doing? Isn't healing people…” Sam seemed to struggle getting out his points, like it was paining him. “I brought you here so we could all work together. I know you hate it, but… if you're not going to be a part of the process, where is that gonna leave us?”

Your eyes returned up. You wanted to snap at him. Tell him to not talk to him like that. But there was a certain look in Sam’s eyes that kept you grounded and silent. That look. It wasn’t as intense as he’s shown you before, that dead-eyed look, but it still ruptured a sickness to your stomach. And the way he admitted to that feeling he experiences after taking a life, you wondered in that moment if he would sometimes feel that feeling before he commits that sin, or when he’s thinking about it too clearly.

Alan stared at a wall for a few moments, his face telling you he was realizing he had to cooperate and play his role in this dark and twisted plan of Sam’s. He took a few deep breaths, each one looking like he was about to say something before biting it back down his throat. He finally spoke out with a hoarse voice. “Successful therapy requires a safe environment.” Sam straightened his back as he realized he was going to actually cooperate. Yet Alan’s voice was on the edge of complete shaking, choosing his words very, very carefully. “The patient and the therapist have to be able to dig into…” Sam nodded along as he looked to take in every little thing he was telling him, “complicated emotional territory without anything like fear hanging over every session.”

You immediately looked over to catch Sam’s reaction, not knowing how he was going to act about that. “I don't know what to do about that.” Alan added.

You caught Sam’s quick scoff and ghost smile, not being able to read if that meant he was disappointed in that fact or if he was amused. You’re getting to know a whole new Sam, the real Sam, so you’ve been trying to get better at reading him despite how many dead ends that lead you into.

“At least I want you…” Alan continued, “to make me a promise that while we are in therapy together, that you will not commit any acts of physical violence against me or (Y/n)-” “I would never hurt (Y/n), I love her. Why would you even say that?” Sam loudly interjected, brows piercing together as if someone had told him the most insensitive, offensive joke. Alan sucked in an inhale, noting that reaction in his mental notes. “I just mean… anyone, in general, unless you talk to me first.”

Sam’s face softened. “You mean you want me to talk to you before I...?”

“Yes.” Alan said quickly, not wanting him to say anything among the lines.

“So you can talk me out of it?”

“So I can try to help you… get out of it. So together, we can try to understand where this terrible need is coming from, and to address it.”

“You have no idea what it's like.”

“I understand.”

Sam chuckled with a bitter smile, glancing over at you which sent a bullet-like zap straight through your core. You’ve been beginning to hate when he looked at you. “These fucking people around (Y/n)…”

“I work with a lot of people with very serious, almost impossible-to-resist compulsions. Making this kind of commitment is key to the process.”

“I don't think it's the same.” Sam winced.

“I'm not saying it's the same.”

Sam sighed, glancing over to you one more time before finally saying, “I'll do my best.” Alan nodded as his way of thanking him. Sam sighed once again, pinpointing his gaze back to you. “Now can you tell her that having a bad relationship with your father when you’re young does affect you.” He pleaded to Alan. You darted your eyes to the man being put on the spot. “You don’t have to answer that, Dr. Strauss.”

Alan glanced between the two of you, lingering his sights a little longer on Sam. He didn’t want to anger or upset either of you, but he feared Sam more. He decided to just state the facts he knew from years of research. “Well…” he started, thinking very carefully of what words to use, “an emotionally unavailable father can leave substantial wounds.” He looked over to your cross armed form to see your eyes were fixated on the ground. “And… to fill that void, you might constantly need attention and validation from older men, or men who have the same traits as your father, to fill that father’s role. You might seek their approval, or advice, or company to make up for the lack of physical and emotional closeness you craved as a child.”

Sam looked over at you with a cocky ‘I told you so’ face, but you weren’t looking. You already knew what he was doing without even having to look up. He was waiting for you to say something, defending yourself or denying the diagnosis, but all you said was, “I don’t want to talk about this right now. I’m going to bed.” Then you stood up without giving anyone so much as a peek and walked straight over to the bed to slide yourself in, closing your eyes before your head even hit the pillow. You just wanted to escape to dreamland to get away from this conscious nightmare.

“But you haven’t finished your dinner.” Sam mentioned, looking down at your dish that you were not even halfway through. “My appetite is spoiled.” You muttered loud enough for him to hear.

Sam quietly snickered and looked at Alan with a perked smirk on his lip. “Women.” He whispered while nudging his head over to you. You heard him though. Alan blankly stared at him, his fearful eyes and frown still intact. Sam stood up with a sigh. “Well then this will be your lunch tomorrow.” He said, completely forgetting about your punishment of less food from your attempted escape. He picked up his and Alan’s plates as well as yours. “I have to go heat back up our food, Dr. Strauss. I’ll be right back.”

You remained in bed as you listened intently to Sam’s footsteps ascending up the stairs and growing distant once he was officially upstairs. And the millisecond that he was you shot back up and scrambled to the foot of the bed, startling Alan. You talked fast and quiet. “What exactly has he told you? Did he tell you that he’s fucking insane?”

Alan was startled by your sudden mood shift, seeing the riled up strictness blow your eyes wide open. “He… he told me about his compulsions. How he tries to stop but he can’t. He said that he knows that he’s… fucked up.” You didn’t allow there to be a second of silence, knowing you didn’t have much time before Sam came back down. “And he told you that I’m his girlfriend? What else has he told you about us?”

Alan sensed your hurry and immediately started talking when you finished. “He said that you haven’t been getting along lately-” “Yeah, because he fucking kidnapped me. Kidnapped me to try and get me to love him back and get over my “daddy issues”.” You stated clearly, wanting Alan to know the gist of this whole situation.

Alan inhaled, taking in the information before telling you what he had noticed in therapy with the man upstairs. “In our sessions, when he said you two were dating, I tried to suggest that you take a break because it sounded like he was overly dependent on you. I told him it sounded like he had an unhealthy addiction to you. It was… very concerning. Most of the time he would talk more about you than himself.” His frown seemed to deepen as well as his voice turning hoarse. “I’m so sorry I should’ve focused more on that than trying to get him to open up about himself. I didn’t know this was the reality of your relationship.”

You shook your head. “It’s okay. I didn’t know he was really like this either. He was just a regular customer at the smoothie bar I work at.” You frowned as your eyes drifted off, imagining how much of your interactions were incredibly significant to him but just casual to you. You shook yourself out of your thoughts when you heard the beeping of the microwave upstairs followed by the beeping sound of microwave buttons. You snapped your eyes back to Alan with a sense of rushed panic. “Quick, what else do you know about me?”

Alan racked his brain for something else. “He told me you were still in love with your ex-” You cut him off, sensing you were running out of time. “That’s a fucking lie. That “ex” is not my ex but my boyfriend whom I lived with.” You heard some rustling upstairs and knew he was coming back.

You leaned closer to Alan with sharp eyes and spoke in a more hushed tone and faster pace. “Okay, listen to me very carefully. I’m gonna lay down the basics of what you need to know and understand right now. I’ve been rotting in this prison cell for I don’t know how fucking long. This place is a living hell and he is sick in the head. He has these batshit mood swings and gets upset like a toddler. He is stubborn and childish and he’s as controlling as a dictator. Be careful with what you say to him and if you step out of line he will punish you.” You began to talk faster, feeling the countdown envelope the room.

“He lives with his mom and she’s a total fucking coward. She does nothing to stop him and once told me to give him a chance. So off the bat, fuck her. She is not on our side and I don’t trust her. I’ll convince Sam tomorrow to let us both sleep in the same room. I used to think I was just wasting my time on planning escapes but with two of us it might be possible. It’s one thing kidnapping me but dragging you into this and fucking up your life is too far. We’re not letting that son of a bitch get what away with this.”

Before Sam even reached the first step of the stairs you threw yourself back into bed and the same position as if you’ve been sleeping this whole time. You felt the heavy weight of Sam’s presence before hearing his voice. “Alright, hot food is back on the menu.” He joked as he set his and Alan’s warm plates down.

“I’m not very hungry right now, Sam.” Alan said with a hoarse tone of voice and exhausted expression.

Sam shot Alan a disappointed glare. “Oh, come on. Not you too. Eating is very important, y’know.” He took a bite and blew on it in his mouth in between each chew. “(Y/n) tried to throw a hunger strike on her first night or two here but she knew better and gave in.” He ate two more bites before quietly adding, leaning over to Alan, “Do you think it’s gonna be the same with me?”

Alan’s brows curved in confusion, the sickness welling in his stomach fueling his fear. “With… your compulsions?” Sam shook his head. “No. If (Y/n)’s gonna know better and give in to me.” He looked up to your body covered by the blankets before turning back to Alan. Although you pretended to be asleep, you kept your ears perked to listen in on everything.

“Everything will be fine if she just accepts my feelings and stays with me.” Sam said to his therapist in a hushed tone. “I could make her so happy. Give her anything she wants, listen to all her rants and rambles. All of that just in exchange that she gives herself over to me.” Sam’s eyes turned desperate as he asked him what he thought.

Alan timidly shrugged, really not knowing what to say. “Sam, I don’t know. It’s hard to tell. The only things I know about her are what you told me. Other than that, I have no way of telling how her mind works or what she wants.” Sam sighed, returning to his food. “You’re right.”

-

Taglist: @alices-halcyon @katlover63 @valareina @kaitcreatesart @girl-next-door-writes @queen-of-elves @pearlstiare

[do-not-lick-the-walls]

a devil put aside | chapter six - communion

masterlist | read on ao3

(gif via @goodsirs)

beelzebub x fallen angel!reader

summary: you have a drink with the council.

(she/her pronouns are used for reader, no use of y/n)

warnings: religious themes & trauma, strong language, drinking/drunkenness, some sexual undertones, peer pressure(?)

ineffable taglist: @sarcastic-sourwolf , @angelofthenight <3

a/n: sorry the end of this is kinda rushed, as I unfortunately have responsibilities other than this fic (boooooooo) which currently includes a lot of college auditions. Alas, in order to become the funny little gay on TV, I must sacrifice some of the fic about the funny little gay on TV. So it goes. Pretend it was all on purpose because she's drunk djdjdndjdjxjd

---

You're bad at a lot of things, but round two is looking like it's about to involve some of your worst.

Skidding through your first Council meeting has injected you with a nervous high, an unblinking energy that makes your teeth hurt and your fingers bleed while half-carved anxieties play catch with your pulse. You can't make it slow (will you ever tame the horrible throbbing of this heart?) the tha-thump is going too strong for that (will you ever get used to it?) so you're resigned to live out your agitation on this couch, picking at your nails until you're thrown back in the ring.

This backroom is surprisingly cozy, making it all the more unfamiliar. The light is warm here, rather than green, cast from several vintage lamps and the fireplace. Little statues, trinkets, and other curiosities decorate the mantle with a slice of the room's casual grandeur. There's a settled-in feeling to the place, telling you both that you're welcome and that you don't belong.

While Hastur and Ligur hang their coats by the door, Beelzebub sprawls out at the other end of your couch like a very relaxed corpse. They let out a sigh reminiscent of a balloon slowly deflating.

"Welcome to our little hideaway. Make yourself comfy," Ligur invites. With an effort, you cross your legs and lean back some. He does a much better job of it, flopping down on the sofa across from you, soon joined by an uneasy Hastur. Dagon perches on the arm of an old recliner.

"Eric, bring us a couple bottles!" Beelzebub shouts. (You flinch.) They're seemingly confident that whoever Eric is can hear them despite the closed door and whatever distance there may be. You don't question it. The past thirty hours have carried weirder stuff, and you're more concerned about what Eric's bringing.

At least you knew the rules of a meeting. Granted, it was the oddest meeting you've ever been in, but still, you had a basic understanding of the game. You've been in tons of meetings. It's a meeting. It's fine. You have no idea what the rules of "having a drink in the back" are, except that you're pretty sure drinking is one of them.

To calm yourself, you let your eyes wander the room some more. The dark, swirling brocade of the wallpaper is almost soothing to your nerves, as is the half-felt drag of your shoe's heel across the rug when you pull your foot back and forth. Oil paintings of evil's greatest triumphs hang proudly, and you wonder if they were just miracled into existence, or if somebody spent hours and hours on them. You wouldn't be surprised if someone had; subject matter aside, they're beautiful.

After the paintings, your eyes fall on a boxy contraption in the corner. It's placed atop a cabinet, lid propped open to reveal silver bits of machinery on the inside. Unsure if it's within the rules to ask aloud, you nudge Beelzebub, glance at the box, and raise your eyebrows.

They laugh. "That's a record player, doll."

"Oh." You pause. "I don't know what that means."

"Here," Ligur gets up and pulls an envelope from the cabinet, then a black disc from the envelope. He places the disc in the machine and fiddles around a bit with the silver pieces. Then, something clicks into place, and the box begins to make an unfamiliar kind of sound.

You scrunch your eyebrows together, frowning. "I don't..."

"It's music," Dagon explains. "It's playing a record."

"Oh." The tension in your forehead slowly drops away as you listen. It doesn't sound anything at all like the angel choirs you sing in. There's a heartbeat at the base of it. Not an unpleasant, flighty one, though, a steady bounce that's felt more than it's heard, like the constant pace of a perpetual motion machine. And over top of those beats, a funky, squiggly sound chases itself back and forth with abandon. It strikes an urge to do something in time with the whole affair. "I like it."

Just as you're starting to tap your finger a little, the door slams open, tearing a very un-demonlike yelp from you and sending your pulse into double-time.

"Alright, alright, alright! Got a nice selection for you tonight, Lords, all reds as always, got some lovely flavors here," says the intruder, a tall, skinny demon with his arms full of clinking bottles and glasses, and who is presumably Eric. You take a few breaths, hand to your chest, while he sets the collection on the coffee table.

Centuries of politeness-instinct makes you open your mouth to thank him, even though you don't mean it, but Beelzebub gives you a subtle kick, and you clumsily glare instead. Eric responds with an encouraging smile and a thumbs up.

"Very nice, very nice! You must be the Seraph, then! Nice t'meet you, I'm Eric. I'm kind of the everyman around here, you can find me pretty easy, so just call if you need anything, yeah?" He bombards, "How's hell for you?"

You open your mouth again, only to be cut off with variations of "Fuck off, Eric!" From four different directions. Eric doesn't seem to mind in the slightest, and gives you a cheery wave before he leaves.

"You'll get used to him," Dagon says, while you avoid watching Ligur pour the wine. "He's annoying, but he's useful."

A concerningly pleasant aroma floats through the air as the demons pass around their glasses. There's no cheat for this, no trick, and there's no calling for backup when your backup's handing you the cup. This trial is four against one. This is a hurdle you have to jump yourself.

You accept the full glass from Beelzebub with both hands, letting it nest in your palms. It's heavier than expected. You feel like a child, awkwardly holding something a little too big for her, and afraid of being punished should she drop it. Wine, blood, what's the difference when it's spilled on the floor? The cup you're cradling doesn't look too different from the pinpricks of red on the fingers that hold it.

Four sets of evil eyes are trained onto you. Curiosity, suspicion, apprehension, faith. The tempting, fruity aroma of sin kisses your nose like it did Eve, exciting your heart again before it even got the chance to fully calm down.

A smile ticks at the corner of Beelzebub's mouth. They hold out their glass. "Cheers. To you."

The glasses ring when they knock together.

The wine is sour on your tongue, then sweet after you push it down your neck, and it tastes like red. It tastes very much like you're not supposed to have it. Somewhere in your throat it catches, and you choke, then force it to stay down. You make a face.

Beelzebub laughs. "It's an aquired taste, love. Keep drinking, you'll come to like it."

You grimace, but take another sip. It's not as bad the second time, and you do better with the whole swallowing thing. Still not good, but not as bad. Maybe it can be appreciated, if you get used to it. You swirl around the glass, watching the red whirlpool form, then dissipate.

Hastur lights a cigarette by engulfing his entire hand in flame. "So, how are you liking hell?" He asks, tentative, as if poking a lion with a very long stick. You shift around.

What you want to say is, "It's hell, what do you think?"

You don't say that.

Instead, after an awkward pause and a mental dig, you blurt out, "I like the clothes."

Well, you landed somewhere honest. You do like the clothes. There's variety down here, styles, colors and shapes you didn't realize were options, all far more interesting to look at than heaven's raiment.

"I can see why," Ligur chuckles. "Beez dressed you nice. You look right well in them."

Beez???

"Wait, wait, hold on a second, is that---" Dagon sets her glass down, leans in, then falls back with a bark of laughter. "She's got their pin on!"

The room erupts into snickers, lighting sparks on your face. You look to Beelzebub for help, find them emptying their glass, and decide to follow suit. You can't pound it like they do, but your hands and the cup give you somewhere to hide.

"I knew you liked your new pet, Beez, but I didn't know you were already so attached!"

Wine sloshes out of your glass as you shoot to your feet, sputtering. "I am not a pet!"

"Ooh, bit fiesty, are we?" Ligur teases, then grunts as Hastur throws an elbow in his side.

"Shut it, all of you!" Beelzebub shouts. They pour themself another, buzzing, and tug you back down. "Don't mind, love. They're just teasing. If anything, means they like you."

Your face is still burning, but you calm a little as you sink back into the leather. This is not heaven. This is a different game, with different rules, you remind yourself, and finish whatever wine you didn't spill. Play the game.

Fiddling with the pin, you take a breath. You're bad at a lot of things, and choosing the right words might just be the worst of them.

You try anyway.

"It's okay that you're jealous, Ligur. I would be too," you joke, then immediately slap your hand over your stupid mouth. Beelzebub chokes on their wine.

But there must've been a miracle left in you, because he whistles high, and breaks into a grin. Relief untenses your shoulders. "I was right, you are fiesty," he laughs, "Beez, I take it back, I'm glad we didn't feed her to the hellhounds. She's fun."

You laugh along nervously, also glad they didn't feed you to the hellhounds, but keenly aware that it's not off the table yet. Still, you snag the golden piece of approval, and you let the want for more of it refill your glass.

"I told you all, she's got it," Beelzebub smiles, then turns to you, "Oh, careful there, love. It's your first time, and you're on an empty stomach."

Waving them off, you sit back and take a sip. It's starting to taste good, and the amused look you pull from them tastes even sweeter. Their arm rests along the top of the sofa, as if tempting you to come curl into their side. You drink.

Little shocks flutter in your fingertips as a pleasant haze rolls in over the next few minutes, and then much longer after that. For the first time in many days, you feel unheavy. Floating instead of falling, instead of sinking. You kick off your shoes and pull your feet onto the couch, pulse matching time with the music, to which you've started tapping your fingers along with. You're contented just to listen for a while. To the record player, and to the idle, demonic chit-chat.

Maybe you have another glass, or maybe you just make this one last a while, you're not really sure. Which is quite funny, now that you think about it. You should know that, but you don't, but that's okay, because it's fine. You laugh at yourself, and then again at the sound you make. When's the last time you laughed? It feels good, you should really do it more. No wonder you're sad all the time.

With that problem solved, you turn to Beez---the name makes you giggle again---to ask for another drink.

Oh.

Fuck.

You already knew they're gorgeous. This shouldn't be a surprise. But holy shit, are they beautiful, looking so at ease, so in control, sprawled out like they own the place. Which they do.

You want to touch their face. You want them to touch you. You want them to burn sunsets into you with their hands, kiss your neck like they didn't before. You just want them.

Their side is still open, inviting, and you give in this time. After all, why shouldn't you? They make an 'oomph' noise as you fall into them, then a squeak, then a "shut the fuck up," in response to a chorus of snickers. They're warm, they're beautifully warm, and they're safe. You're safe. You could bury yourself here.

"Alright, you're officially drunk, then," they laugh, "Should've known, you've got no tolerance for it."

"Mmmmmnnhhhnn," you respond.

"What's that?"

You sigh, wrapping your arms around them, and press in closer. If this is being drunk, you don't see what makes it such a sin. You're at peace, in safe hands, and free to stop thinking. It's an altar you'd worship at any day.

A hand runs down your back, and you remember what it is you wanted to say.

"You're so nice."

[zeromayhemart]

Angel of the Night

Demona from Gargoyles

Art by me.

[zatransis]

From last year some time. Swipe for full image. #procreate #zatransis #demona #gargoyles #disney #angelofthenight (at Gràcia) https://www.instagram.com/p/BwpPlcJn94T/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=19o9wk6kx3xff