#antichrist reader

[quaildoodle]

his body and blood 😩

[saintlucretia]

Devil Wears a Suit

part Ⅱ

Pairings: Outpost!Michael Langdon x Female!Reader

Warnings: Blood, Mention of murder, Sexual harassment?, Explicit content, Curse words, Hot devil's son, Not proofread.

A/N: I tried my best, hope you enjoy.

A long night passed and the morning came. Well, if you can trust the clock. There were no windows at the Outpost for sunlight to penetrate the room, although even if there were some, it would not matter since after the bombs the sun disappeared behind a thick wall of fog. Fog of death.

I woke up with chills and sweat. Something haunted my dreams all night, making me shiver like a little lamb. Even though it was an unpleasant feeling, it added color to a pathetic parody of life that I have been having for the last 18 months.

Yesterday’s events bothered me. Moreover, they annoyed me. It was bright as day, that Langdon was messing with all of our minds, yet some part of my silly brain wanted me to believe that I was truly special. That he saw something, that no one else could.

I slowly walked to the bathroom. My bare feet touched the cold marble and I involuntarily shivered. I was tired. A mess. I washed my face and sighed, looking at myself in the mirror. Suddenly I noticed a motion somewhere behind, I turned my head and flinched. Snakes. They were crawling from the bath. Devilish creatures hissed showing me their poisonous fangs. I quickly ran out of the bathroom shutting the door behind me. What the hell? I caught my breath and sat on the edge of the bed. Are there snakes in my bathroom? I felt like I was going insane. Something cold touched my feet. Snakes. I jumped on the bed with a gasp. My closet and floor near it were full of them. They swarmed, intertwining with each other. Dozens of snakes. The other second I was already at the door, running to the hallway. Still barefoot in a white Victorian nightgown that Ms. Venable made us wear. I backed away from the room door and my back hit something soft. I turned around quickly, facing Michael Langdon's piercing blue eyes.

“Something wrong, Ms. Y/S?” he asked, preventing me from falling.

I stared at him for about a minute before words rolled out of my mouth.

“Snakes. There are snakes in my room.” My voice was hoarse, my fingers dug into the sleeves of his jacket.

He was clearly amused by my state, studying my expression. Langdon chuckled, "Oh, really? Snakes, you say?" His eyes shone with a sly glint. I watched as he pushed me aside and glanced toward the room I had just run from.  

"May I?" he asked, and entered the room without waiting for my reply. I slowly followed him. To my horror, as we entered I saw nothing. Snakes were gone. Impossible.

“They were here. I swear to God they were here.” I mumbled looking around the room.

I noticed Langdon’s face contorted in hostility. 

“Don’t say such stupid words, Ms. Y/S. It’s unnecessary here.” 

I closed my face with my hands and sighed. Considering my appearance and edgy state, I totally looked like a mad woman. Nobody believes a mad woman.

“I believe you,” Langdon said, approaching me as if he read my thoughts. “Strange things sometimes happen. But it’s just… interesting that it happened in your room.” 

"What do you mean by that?" I furrowed my eyebrows, my gaze searching his face.

“You probably know that snakes have always been representing sin. It’s their main dignity. Servants of darkness… if you believe in symbols, of course.”

I let his words sink in briefly, my gaze drifting to the ground lost in thought. Snakes… sin… Snakes slithering in the garden of Eden… temptress Eve... I understood where he was going.

I huffed at that, scoffing. "Is that your way of calling me sinful? A corrupted soul? Please, spare me the Bible lessons."

Langdon raised an eyebrow at my comment, a playful smirk on his lips. 

"Oh, I'm not calling you sinful," he said, leaning against the nearby wall, his eyes roaming over me from head to toe. “But as you said it… it would be amusing to see you getting corrupted.”

I rolled my eyes. "Then what are you calling me?" I retorted, my voice betraying a hint of irritation. I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to regain some composure.

Langdon chuckled at my defensive stance. His eyes gleamed with amusement. He pushed himself off the wall and slowly approached me.

"Are you always so feisty in the mornings?" he asked, his voice low and smooth.

I gulped as he came closer, a mix of annoyance and something else stirring inside me. His intense gaze made me feel cornered and yet, strangely… excited? My breath hitched as he was now standing directly in front of me, the space between us barely existent.

He raised his hand, a single finger tracing an invisible line down my cheek. "Or is it just my presence that gets you going?" he murmured, his voice dripping like honey.

The touch of his fingertip felt like a small electrical shock to my system. I tried to control my breathing, determined not to let him see me flustered.

"Your presence is hardly something exciting," I retorted, my voice a bit shaky. "It's more... irritating."

He smirked at my response. His finger trailed lower, down my jawline, and stopped at my chin, tilting my head up to meet his gaze.

“Well, as I recall it was you, who fell into my arms with fear, m?”

I hated how his words were effective. I hated how true they were. I hated myself for being so affected by his presence.

I tried to compose myself, my jaw clenched tightly. "I was just surprised," I mumbled, trying to sound nonchalant, but my heart was beating too hard for any nonchalance. “There were snakes all over the room.”

Langdon chuckled, his thumb left my face and he slowly started walking toward the door. 

"Indeed there were," he replied, casually leaning against the door frame. He seemed relaxed as if the topic was of no real importance.

I watched him for a moment, trying to decipher his nonchalant behavior. He was enjoying this, the way he was playing with me. The way he was playing with everyone. 

"Are you going to explain what happened here, or just act like it's normal for snakes to appear out of nowhere?" I asked, unable to hide the annoyance in my voice.

Langdon chuckled at my question, that arrogant smirk never leaving his lips. "Isn't the mystery part of the thrill?" 

He walked out, closing the door behind me, leaving me again excited and annoyed. Silence engulfed the room after he left. I was left standing there, my heart pounding in my chest, my mind replaying the events that just occurred.

I sighed and walked over to the bed, sitting down on the edge with a thump. The silence was deafening, the only sound being the steady beat of my heart. I couldn't shake off the feeling of… anticipation. Anticipation for the next time I would see him. That son of a bitch.

I quickly dressed up and went to the day room. We didn’t have breakfast there. We barely ate at all. Some kind of nutrition cube at lunch and water. Balanced diet. 

No one yet tried to break the rules of the house that Ms. Venable had set, so when I entered the room almost everyone was already there. Same people, same walls, same music. I was going insane.

I took my usual seat, the conversations around me blending into a dull murmur. I felt suffocated as if I was drowning in the monotony. All I could think about was the next part of the interview with a representative of the Cooperative. 

Sanctuary could be a lie, who can verify that? All this can be a way to manipulate us. Even Ms.Venable was afraid, she didn’t trust him but obeyed. We were a flock of sheep in a pen with a hungry wolf. 

I was lost in thought when I noticed someone settling into the seat beside me. I turned my head to see Mr. Gallant.

"You seem lost in thought," he noted, his voice soft. "Everything alright?"

“Yeah, just… had an unpleasant morning,” I answered shortly, not wanting to tell him anything. I replayed all morning and yesterday's events in my head again and felt anger in my body. It made my blood hotter. 

He had no time to answer, as Ms. Venable walked into the room. Her presence immediately silenced the conversations. Her expression was stern, and she scanned the room with a critical eye.

"Good morning," she began, her voice steady and authoritative. She leaned on her cane and raised her voice a bit. “Today we are having a special treat. Don’t be late for lunch.” She turned from us and slowly started walking away, her heels echoing through the walls.

“Oh, by the way,” she stopped for a second but hadn’t turned her head. “Ms. Y/N, Mr. Langdon is waiting for you in the interview room.” She said harshly as if his name was disgusting to her.

I could feel the eyes of the others on me as they turned their gazes in my direction. I stood up slowly, trying to seem unbothered.

The walk to the interview room seemed longer than usual, the silence only interrupted by my footsteps and my rapidly beating heart. I will beat this motherfucker.

I knocked on the door of his cabinet and entered. There he was, sitting on the table, as he was waiting for me in that position intentionally. His pose was casual but deliberate. His gaze met mine, a smirk on his lips.

"Ah, Ms. Y/N," he greeted, his tone mocking yet playful. "Sit down please." 

I tried to retain my composure, refusing to let him see any hint of my nervousness. I sat down in the chair opposite him, trying to maintain some distance, yet feeling the closeness of the cramped room.

"What do you want?" I asked, my voice steady but cold.

“Well, It’s the second part of your interview-” He began but I interrupted him. 

"Cut the act, Langdon.” I snapped, my voice coming out harsher than I intended. “This psychotic bitch with her ridiculous rules is already sucking our blood, I don’t want another arrogant dick here, who thinks he can intimidate us. We both know this isn't a real interview. Even if Sanctuary is true, selection is just part of your manipulation." 

Langdon raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. "Oh really?" He stood from the table and slowly started to circle me, like a shark circling wounded man in the water. I instinctively followed his movements with my eyes. "And why would I come to the Outpost then?" He stopped behind me, leaning closer, his breath warm against my ear.

I felt my breath hitch as he came closer, his breath sending a shiver through my body. I resisted the urge to lean away, instead sitting ramrod straight in my chair.  

"You tell me," I retorted, my voice betraying a hint of the unease I was feeling. He continued to circle me, his presence making the room feel even smaller.

Langdon chuckled at my response, his footsteps echoing around me as he completed his circle. He stopped in front of me. Smile gone.

“You are scared. It’s okay to be scared.” His calmness filled my mind with anger.

“I’m not.”

He smiled and leaned closer, resting his hands on the back of my chair, boxing me in with his arms.

“Of course you are,” he chuckled. His gaze fixed on mine. “And you should be.”

His arms on either side of my chair made me feel trapped. I could feel the power radiating from his body, and I had to fight the urge to lean back. I inhaled his smell, expensive cologne. Sweet, yet bitter, he smelled like dominance. It was hypnotic.

His chuckle was almost mocking as if he knew the effect he was having on me. I raised my chin defiantly.

"Why would I be scared of you?"  I retorted, my voice steady despite the lump in my throat. “You are nothing more than the obedient dog of The Cooperative.”

As words rolled out my mouth, I almost immediately regretted saying them. His smirk faded, eyes flashed with irritation and something even worse. I felt fear scratching my heart.

"Careful," he warned, calmly. "I'd watch your tongue if I were you. You don’t want to lose it, do you?”

I swallowed hard, my bravado wavering under his intense gaze. His threat lingered in the air like a shadow, and I knew he meant it. 

"I'm not intimidated by your empty threats," I managed to say, without thinking. Dumb bitch.

Langdon chuckled darkly, and the sound made goosebumps rise on my skin. Before I could say anything, his hand shot out and wrapped around my throat, not really choking me, but just enough to be a warning.

"Empty threats?" he repeated, his voice a dangerous whisper. "You think I'm bluffing?" His grip tightened slightly, causing a gasp to escape my lips. I could feel my eyes widen in panic, but I tried to maintain a brave expression. “Tsk, tsk, I can already imagine how nice it would be to cut out that pretty tongue of yours.”

I couldn't help the whimper that escaped my lips at his threat. His grip on my throat was strong, constricting just enough to make me gasp for breath. 

"You... you wouldn't dare," I somehow managed to squeak out, my voice sounding weak and fearful. 

“Oh you think your pathetic life costs anything?” he leaned closer to whisper in my ear. “I could stab your stomach and rip out your little heart with my bare hand and no one could stop me.”

His words stung like a physical blow, and I felt my heart race in panic. He was deadly serious, looking at me like I was nothing more than a nuisance.

"Please," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "Please don't."

Langdon's hand tightened the grip around my throat. He smiled at my pleading, a cold, cruel smile. 

"Begging already?" he asked, his voice mocking. "And after you so bravely challenged me."

My hands scrambled to pull away his wrist, trying to loosen his tight grip on my throat. I couldn't speak, could barely gasp for air.

His smile widened at my futile struggle, he enjoyed playing. He leaned closer, his face inches away from mine. 

"This is what happens when you challenge someone with power," he murmured. "You get humbled."

I was unable to say a word, strangled by his hand, tears starting to well up in my eyes. The room started to spin, and my vision became disoriented.

“Still, have hesitation about my authority?” he asked, his tone almost soothing.

"N-no... no..." I managed to choke out.

His hand released its grip on my throat, allowing me to gasp for air. My body slumped against the chair, trembling uncontrollably. I took a moment to recover from his grip, my heart still pounding and my breath shaky. I felt smaller under his gaze, like a mouse trapped under the eye of a snake.

Langdon chuckled at my reaction, his eyes glinting with cruel enjoyment. "Pathetic," he said, the word dripping with derision. 

I looked away, unable to meet his gaze. The feeling of helplessness was overwhelming, and I knew he was relishing every moment of my humiliation.

Langdon reached out, his fingers gripping my chin tightly, forcing me to look at him. His touch was rough, a stark contrast to the smoothness of his voice as he spoke. 

"Now can you listen to me?"

I nodded weakly, my throat still sore from his assault. Langdon saw the fear in my eyes, and his smile widened at the sight.

"Good," he murmured, his hand slowly releasing my chin.

His gaze never left me, his eyes scrutinizing every reaction I made.

"You were smart enough to figure out the whole interview thing," he said, his tone casual yet calculating. "But you're not smart enough to know when to keep that pretty mouth shut." Langdon chuckled, a twisted sound that made me flinch. "Still, I appreciate the fire," he said. "Most of the other 'interviewees' are a little too... shallow, I’d prefer most of them dead by evening." 

His eyes never left mine, studying me intently. I tried to hide any emotion.

"They all tremble before the thought of going to The Sanctuary and willing to please me in any way. But you're…," he continued. "You're unfortunately not satisfied with just being an obedient pretty face. No, you have an attitude. And that, my dear, is your undoing."

“M’sorry.” I breathed out quietly.

"Apologies mean nothing," he said smiling. "The main thing is understanding how everything works. So tell me, did you truly understand the lesson here, or does your pretty little head need another reminder?" His tone was cold and condescending, making me feel even smaller. 

The fear that had subsided slightly came rushing back, cold and constricting - raw.

"No, no, I..." I stammered. "I understand." 

Langdon chuckled. "See, now that wasn't that difficult, was it?" he crooned, his hand reaching out to trace a finger along my jawline. His touch was mocking, a cruel gesture that sent a shiver of disgust through me and I diligently tried to hide it. It was hard not to move away. He seemed to enjoy my discomfort, his eyes glinting with amusement.

“Now we can have a productive talk.” He said, turning away from me. “You have brains, I’ll give you that. So why not put them in use, hm?” 

I could feel a slight sense of relief as he turned away from me, but it was quickly replaced by a wary uncertainty. His change in demeanor was unpredictable, and I had no idea what was coming next.

"What... what do you mean?" I asked, my voice betraying my unease.

He began pacing back and forth in front of me, his hands clasped behind his back.

"You're clever, resourceful... more useful from. And I hate to see potential go to waste."

He stopped in front of me, his eyes studying me intently. I could practically feel the gears in his mind turning as he weighed his words.

"But the problem is, you're stubborn," he said finally. "And that stubbornness leads to insolence."

He leaned in, his face mere inches away from mine. The smell of his cologne hit my nose again. Crisp and masculine scent.

"And insolence, my dear," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Is a trait I don't tolerate."

“I understand that.” I said semi-calmly.

“Oh, you are a quick learner as well.” he murmured. “Good girl.” His tone was still mocking, and I hated how the praise sent a flicker of warmth through me. I tried to remain stoic, but his words were starting to chip away at my defenses. 

He stepped back, his gaze still locked on me. 

"I have an offer for you," he said. "An offer that could benefit us both, if you play your cards right."

“What offer?” 

“I want you,” he began. “To work for me.” 

“Work for you?” I asked dumbly.

He chuckled at my confusion, enjoying my surprise.

"Yes, work for me," he confirmed. "You'll be doing research, digging up information on others, doing necessary tasks, anything I need. Think you can handle that, hm?"

“But… how?” I wasn’t expecting that offer at all. And how the fuck should I dig on others?

Langdon smiled at my question, obviously finding it amusing that I wasn't catching on.

"How?" he echoed. "You seemed smarter a few minutes ago."

He leaned against the table again, crossing his arms over his chest.

"You'll be my eyes and ears, gathering intel for me. You'll tell me everything you see, hear or feel. And in return… I’ll put in a good word for you with the members of the Cooperative." 

I sat there, watching him silently.

He waited a moment, letting his words sink in. He was watching me intently, waiting for my reaction.

"I can see the wheels turning in your head," he began. "You're thinking about all the possibilities, aren't you? Life at The Sanctuary is heaven if you are friends with the authorities." He smirked.

He was right. The possibilities were spinning in my head like a whirlpool. 

But I knew there was a catch. People like Langdon never offered anything without expecting something in return. Something much bigger than collecting information. 

“What’s the catch?” 

He smirked at my question. His eyes were glittering with satisfaction, clearly enjoying his little game.

"Ah, are you always so suspicious or am I an exception?" he asked, tilting his head a bit.

“You think I shouldn’t be suspicious of the man who almost choked me to death a few minutes ago?” My tone filled with venom and I bit my tongue, afraid to anger him again.

“Don’t be so dramatic, it was just a friendly reminder” he said leaning closer to me, whispering. “And don’t act like you didn’t enjoy that, you are bad at hiding it.”

My heart skipped a beat, a mix of anger and embarrassment rushing through me. 

"Enjoy that?" I shot back. "Why would I enjoy being strangled by a sick psychopath?"

He smirked at my outburst, seemingly unfazed by my anger. 

"Now now, no need for name-calling," he said with mock hurt. "You can lie to yourself if it gives you comfort, but I saw the way you reacted, the way your body tensed, and the way your pupils dilated."

His gaze roamed over me in an almost predatory manner, making me feel exposed.

“Anyway, we have more important things to discuss than your sexual desires.” He smirked. “Accept my offer?”

His brazen, almost predatory manner was as infuriating as it was intoxicating. I felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment, but I refused to look away. 

"Accept your offer..." I echoed, trying to sound strong. "You haven't exactly explained the full extent of this 'job' you're offering. I need more details before I can even consider it." I forced the words past my lip.

“It’s easy. You are loyal to me and I promise you protection. It’s always useful to have an intelligent, pretty head on your side.” he said, looking me up and down. “Before me, you were all alone among bastards, but now I offer you my hand and I really don't recommend biting it.”

“So I have to become a backstabber?” 

"No, my dear, you're thinking too low. You won't be backstabbing anyone. You'll merely be... helping me to form a new society. " He paused, his expression growing more serious. "Don’t tell me you are afraid of getting your hands bloody, I saw the way you look at Ms. Venable. You are bloodthirsty."

My eyes widened at his observation. I wasn't surprised he had caught on to my hatred for Ms. Venable, but hearing him say it out loud was another matter. 

"I'm not scared of getting my hands dirty," I said, my voice firm despite the shiver that ran down my spine. "I'm just not fond of being used."

Langdon sat on the edge of the table and smiled, almost genuine, he looked at me like I was a little kid.

“Come here.” he said calmly and beckoned me with the nod of his head.

I hesitated, not sure whether to obey his command or not. I slowly stood up and walked over to him, stopping a few feet away from him. It was crazy how he was radiating comfort and dominance at the same time. 

“Closer. I won’t bite.” 

I stepped closer and his hand reached to stroke my hair.

“You are special.” His voice was surprisingly gentle as he spoke. His fingers tangled in my hair, his touch both soothing and possessive. “You can achieve a lot or… stay here and rot with others.”

His words were like a cold bucket of water, snapping me out of the odd comfort I found myself in. I knew he was right, of course. Staying here meant settling for a life on the sidelines, living in fear and boredom. Or just die.

"You don't play fair, do you?" I said, my voice tinged with irritation. "One second you're choking me, the next you're stroking my hair and promising me the world."

"And why should I play fair, hm? Rules don't work anymore here, chaos has won." He leaned closer. 

I found myself smiling despite myself. It was probably still a shock. My mind couldn't keep up with what was happening. There was a dangerous charisma to him, an irresistible charm that I couldn't quite explain.

"That’s a convenient excuse for you to do whatever you want," I shot back, trying to sound defiant. "No rules means no boundaries."

Langdon chuckled again, his smirk widening. His hand slid down from my hair to rest on my throat again, his thumb brushing against my pulse.

"Careful," he warned, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I might start thinking you're enjoying this a bit too much." I freeze. “And about the rules… I prefer bending them, instead of breaking."

I didn’t answer, waiting for him to continue. He smiled, clearly enjoying my reaction. His thumb traced lazy circles on my throat, making my pulse quicken involuntarily.

“You don’t want to die here, do you?” He whispered in my ear. “It would be a shame if such potential would remain undisclosed…” His hand moved lower, gently touching my collarbone. “In this body.”

His touch ignited a strange fire inside me. I desperately tried to ignore the way my body reacted to him, the way my heart raced and my skin tingled where he touched me. 

"You make it sound like I'm a ticking time bomb." My voice came out a little breathier than I intended.

"Oh, don’t sell yourself short, darling," Langdon purred. "You’re more like a grenade. A beautiful, deadly grenade.” His hand caressed my skin. “So… Do we have a deal, Ms. Y/N?” 

I stared down at the floor, then back at Langdon, my gaze calculating. After a few seconds I nodded. “Deal.”

“Wise.” He smiled. “Now let’s make that official.”

His left hand went to grab my waist, while the other reached out to take something from the table. Small dagger. I instinctively tried to pull back, but his grip on me was unwavering

“No need to be scared, little lamb.” He handed me the weapon with the hilt forward. 

“Official?” I echoed.

“Yes. Deal in blood.” His answer made my body flinch.

The cool metal of the dagger felt heavy and unfamiliar in my hand. 

“Aren't you afraid that I would stab you?” I asked him, trying to hide my fear.

Langdon chuckled darkly, liking the question. 

"You wouldn't dare," he said with absolute confidence. "You're far too smart and too… intrigued by me to do something so foolish."

His eyes glittered dangerously like he was daring me to prove him wrong. "And besides... I have a feeling you're far more interested in finding out what it would be like to be on my good side."

He directed my hand, in which the dagger was clutched, and leaned the tip against the palm of his left hand. “Cut.”

I watched in fascination and slight horror as the blade made a small incision in his hand, a thin line of blood forming on his palm. He didn’t even flinch, his gaze locked on mine the entire time. It awakened in me something feral.

“Now you,” he said, his voice low and steady.

He grabbed my hand, his grip gentle but firm, and guided the knife to my palm. The sharp pain was muffled by his lips on my cheek. The warm blood slowly pooled in my palm. 

He pressed his wounded hand against mine, the touch inflicted pain. The blood from his hand mingled with mine, the warmth and stickiness of it a strange and yet somehow comforting sensation. 

 "And with that..." he said, his voice hushed. "Our deal is sealed."

I felt the burning urge to press my lips to his. Without clearly thinking I leaned to his face, kissing him hungrily. He didn’t return the kiss, but didn’t pull away either. 

"Now, now, dear," he said, his voice a low murmur. "Don't get ahead of yourself. No need to complicate things…"

His gaze flicked down to my lips, his own curving into a smug smile. I was ashamed of my bold move and confused by his stubbornness. He was a man after all, wasn’t he?

"Complicate?" I repeated, my voice tinged with sarcasm. "Says the one who just made me swear a blood pact."

Langdon chuckled, amused by my attempt at irritation. "Ah, don't pout," he said, his hand moving to gently cup my jaw. 

"Just because I'm not giving in to your every desire doesn't mean I’m inaccessible.” He leaned closer to my ear. "But keep pushing, darling. I do love it when you act up, maybe next time you wil get lucky." He carelessly brushed his lips along my wound, making me whimper quietly, my eyes fluttering shut for a moment. God, he is killing me.

Langdon pulled back, a satisfied smirk playing at the corners of his lips. His hand left my jaw, and I found myself missing the feel of his touch already. I leaned forward, wanting him to touch me.

"Ah ah ah," he tutted, his voice mockingly chiding. "I can practically feel your eagerness, my dear. But I'm afraid I can't have you slacking off on our deal."

He gestured lazily to the door. "You should return to your routine. Can’t have Ms. Venable catching you slinking around here for too long."

I bristled at his order, but I knew he was right. I nodded grudgingly.

"Fine."

I started to walk toward the door, my wounded hand throbbing a little from the recent events. But before I reached the threshold, Langdon's voice stopped me.

"Oh, and Y/N?"

I turned back, raising an eyebrow questioningly.

His eyes were glinting mischievously.

"A word of advice," he said, his voice dripping with mockery. "Try to control that urge of yours. It's going to get you in trouble..." He paused, his gaze roaming up and down my body. "Or is it already too late?"

“Check it yourself next time,” I answered boldly and grabbed the door handle.

I couldn’t see his face, but was sure that he was amused.

"I might just take you up on that offer." I heard his smooth voice, as I left the room. "Off you go, little lamb." 

I shut the door behind me and leaned on it with my back. Probably that’s what it feels like to sell your soul to the Devil.

Have a good day <3

[trashogram]

Fluff: You hear Lucifer purring in the middle of the night and you open your eyes, smiling, only to realize it’s not him. ***

“Lucifer?” You reached over and gently shook his shoulders. “Luci, honey. Wake up.”

The Devil’s eyes snapped open — he’d never been a deep sleeper — but thankfully he met your gaze before the confusion could set him off into a vocal frenzy.

“Huh?” He grunted sleepily, blinking the glaze from his eyes. “Wha-what’s wrong?”

You shake your head, finger to your lips as you nod to the baby between the two of you. Lucifer’s gaze followed, and his expression shifted from forlorn sleepiness to joy in but a millisecond.

Charlie continued to sleep, none the wiser to her parents’ delight as they listened to her kittenish purrs for the very first time.

[anonymousewrites]

Adolescent Antichrist (Book 6) Chapter Sixteen

Father Figure! Lucifer Morningstar x Teen! Reader

Demon! OC x Reader

Chapter Sixteen: Adolescent Antichrist to Adolescent Deity

Summary: (Y/N) and Lucifer get to live and love.

Mouse Note: I can't believe it. Three years of this story, and it has come to its end. I can't believe. Red and Lucifer and Em and Leon and Olive and Noa and Marcel have been so near and dear to my heart for so long, it's hard saying go. But they have their happy ending. I couldn't be happier for them. And I couldn't be happier for all of you readers and commenters who supported my madness and my fun these last few years. You are all amazing, and I grew so much from the first chapter of Book 1 to this final chapter of Book 6. Thank you so much.

            “So I don’t have to go out like Muriel?”

            “No, you can have your own way of having fun and connecting with your interests,” said (Y/N). “Muriel is apparently a partier—there are other angels who like doing that. If you like quieter things more, then that’s fine. You can read, try tea or coffee, or just go for walks. Try joining a library book club if you’re lonely. Alright, Raphael?”

            “…I suppose that makes sense,” said Raphael. “Thank you, G—Deity.”

            “You’re welcome.” (Y/N) stood from the couch. “Are you feeling better?”

            “I am.” Raphael shifted nervously. “I-I thought you wouldn’t speak to me, but Andriel said you helped her.”

            “That’s what I’m here for,” said (Y/N), smiling. “Now, go and try something new but something that’s in your interests. You can go out of your comfort zone another time.”

            “Thank you. Goodbye.” Raphael smiled, flapped his wings, and disappeared.

            “Another successful therapy session?” said Lucifer, walking into the living room with a cup of tea.

            He handed it to them, and (Y/N) took a thankful sip and sighed happily. They liked helping the angels out—boy did they need a lot of help—but it could also be tiring. After all, (Y/N) was seventeen still. Not for long, but still. There was a lot resting on their shoulders, and it was a miracle (ironically) that they had been doing so well for so long.

            “Yes,” said (Y/N), smiling at Lucifer.

            However, despite it all, (Y/N) was satisfied. There was peace. The angels were only making minor chaos on Earth exploring their individuality (which gave (Y/N) plenty of moments to get rid of their irritation by scolding them), (Y/N) could interfere ever-so-slightly if it felt like the world was about to tip in a dangerous direction (though (Y/N) avoided it since that felt wrong and they refused to actually control anyone since they respected free will—even to make mistakes), and (Y/N)’s life had finally found a rhythm of calm.

            Or, near calm.

            (Y/N) also had graduation and their fashion project to go, and then it was their birthday, and they needed a university to go to, and the angels wanted some sort of coronation or something in the Silver City (which they had already paraded (Y/N) around), and (Y/N) was tempted to escape to another universe at times.

            “I’m glad things are going so well,” said Lucifer. “I admit, I was a bit worried.”

            “You were worried? I was freaking out,” said (Y/N). It was one thing to become the Deity in the moment, but after a long, well-deserved nap, (Y/N) woke up literally glowing and screamed.

            “And yet you have handled the transition with grace,” said Lucifer encouragingly.

            “Grace was telling Jophiel he should try to be more than a frat boy in his life?” said (Y/N) sarcastically.

            “Grace was telling him to find out more about himself,” said Lucifer.

            He was incredibly proud of all that (Y/N) had achieved. He had wanted to be God to protect them, and now…they had grown up. He would always be there for them and help them and support them, but (Y/N) had grown strong and independent. He didn’t need to worry as much. And he was more than happy that they held the power of a God. Lucifer didn’t know of someone more deserving or capable.

            (Y/N) smiled shyly and took a sip of their drink. “How is Michael?”

            “I think the therapy is helping,” said Lucifer. “I suspect it is about family issues—”

            “What else?” grumbled (Y/N).

            “—but he’s seemed…calmer.” Lucifer smiled. “I doubt we will ever be close, but I think he is going to be a better person than he was.”

            “The bar is pretty low,” joked (Y/N), but they were still glad.

            “Indeed.” Lucifer chuckled. “But enough about family—or, Celestial family. We have an event tonight.”

            “What?” said (Y/N), blinking.

            “…Your fashion show?” said Lucifer.

            “Shit!”

            Apparently, being the Deity of Creation didn’t mean they couldn’t curse anymore.

l

            “Okay, everyone’s makeup and hair is done, the clothing is ready, people are sitting down outside, the music is cued, what else, what else…” (Y/N) rambled as they walked around the backstage of their show.

            “Birdie.” Em caught (Y/N)’s hands and squeezed. “Take a deep breath.”

            (Y/N) looked at their partner and breathed in long and slow. They let out the breath, and their shoulders sagged.

            “There you go,” said Em. “It’s going to be fine. Better than fine. The clothes look beautiful. Everyone is going to be in awe. And do you know why?”

            “Because I can just use magic to make it better if something goes wrong?” said (Y/N).

            Em laughed as (Y/N) tried to joke to take the edge off. “Because you worked hard. You don’t need magic or powers or anything else. You worked hard. And that is what counts. Alright? You have overcome every obstacle put in your life, and no matter what the challenge or danger, you’ve risen to it. This is a celebration of that strength. It’s a celebration of you. My Birdie.” She kissed (Y/N).

            (Y/N) smiled and kissed back. “I’m so glad to have you. I know-I know it’s been a lot, me becoming…a deity, but I’m so happy I have you with me. Just like the others, but you—” (Y/N) swallowed. “Emeranne, I love you.”

            Em’s smile widened, and pure adoration was in their gaze. “I love you, too, (Y/N). For all that you are.” They always had.

            Em leaned in and kissed (Y/N) again. For a moment, the world was just the two of them in love. Everything was going to be alright. Because they had each other. Because they had love.

l

            “This is exciting,” said Chloe, smiling. “I’m sure you’re proud of (Y/N).”

            Lucifer nodded and smiled widely. “I am. And I haven’t seen any of the pieces put fully together, so I’m completely in the dark.”

            “Emeranne refused to tell me, her queen, anything,” grumbled Maze.

            “You need to have patience,” said Eve, chastising her girlfriend.

            “They were probably nervous to show you,” said Linda.

            “But I’m always proud of them,” said Lucifer.

            “Yes, but you mean a lot to (Y/N). They want you to be impressed,” said Linda.

            “Then I’ll grin the entire time,” said Lucifer.

            Amenadiel chuckled. “I’m sure they’ll like that.”

            “It’s going to be great. We all know how hard (Y/N) worked on this,” said Chloe.

            “I know.” Lucifer’s smiled softened. “They’ve grown up into such a capable person. I don’t know where they got it.”

            Chloe took his hand and squeezed. “I do.”

            Lucifer smiled at her and kissed the back of her hand.

            The lights of the room went off, and everyone sat up straighter. It was time for the show to begin. Over the speakers, dramatic classical music began. Red lights shot up around the room, casting mysterious shadows over the audience. White lights snapped on to face the stage.

            Marcel walked out first. He had redyed his hair, and the purple was wisteria light, gentle and handsome. On his face, highlighter shone with golden dust, an exaggerated, ethereal feel. But the clothes were what stood out, what everyone was there for. And Marcel wore them proudly.

            It was a suit of pure white. The pants were long and crisply sewn. The top was a button up with a high, lacy collar, and a corset cinched his waist. Overtop it all was a long white cloak, and down the edges were golden stitches. As it swept by, it was clear that the gold was stars, suns, and crosses. It matched the crosses dangling from his ears and the golden heels he walked in.

            Marcel reached the end of the runway and posed with his hands in a prayer position.

            Lucifer found himself grinning as he watched. (Y/N) had made their clothing be themed on their life, the different people and beings they knew. Their family. Marcel was playing the angel.

            Olive was next to walk. Her blonde hair had been curled and pinned up so that the front fell messily around her face while the back was a bun of golden waves. The pins were gold with red jewels, glinting in the light. Ruby teardrop-shaped jewels hung from her ears and matched the dusting of red across Olive’s cheeks. Her eyes were dusted with pink eyeshadow, and their lips had the barest hint of redness. It seemed like she was supposed to be sorrowful, and her elegant, ballerina-style steps felt like melancholy drifted with her.

            The clothes hung around her with beautiful somberness. Red billowing sleeves hung from her shoulders and were attached to a halter neck but were free from the bodice of Olive’s dress. It left her collarbone free for a red and gold necklace to highlight the neckline. The dress itself had a simple red corset top with no boning on the outside. White lace died slightly black—as if rotting—lined the top of the bodice, and a similar fade of white-to-black appeared in the ribbons sinching the corset. The skirts of the dress were of the same scarlet, falling long in the back and shortened with stitching and ribbons in the front, achieving an exaggerated Victorian effect. Her exposed legs were clad in red, rose-patterned tights, and the Mary Janes she walked in were white dipped in ink, dripping in darkness.

            Olive reached the end of the runway and lifted a hand to drape it across her face with a sorrowful yet angry expression. With the golden curls and bare collar, Lucifer blinked as he recognized the picture she made. “Fallen Angel” by Alexandre Cabanel. Olive was the fallen angel. Luicfer.

            Lucifer felt his heart stir, and he held Chloe’s hand tightly with emotion as Olive walked back past him.

            Fortunately, the next model took his attention before he was too moved by (Y/N)’s design. They had their black coils of hair flowing freely, and they wore a black, dark-jeweled necklace across their neck. Gloves covered their arms, and an off-shoulder, lantern-sleeved dress of black lace fell from them. Gentle ruffles defined the shape and swayed with every step the model made. It was deceptively simple but beautifully made. The model blew a kiss at the end of the runway and turned with perfect attitude.

            Eve, thought Lucifer. He wasn’t sure how he knew that, but he just did. It was the gentle femininity Eve favored in her clothes, but it had the black and darkness that Eve had found herself enjoying as she finally got together with Maze.

            Eve herself grinned and held Maze’s hand tighter.

            Leon was next to walk. He had lines of gold eyeliner around his eyes flaring out and a black lip on. The simple design of their makeup matched the simple elegance of their outfit.

            It was a long and black. Thick borders lined the wrists and long necklace. The sleeves and bodice were translucent with gold and black designs stitched overtop. A wide belt defined Leon’s waist, and he had long, loose black pants. Similar golden designs sparkled on top of them. The back of the bodice flowed out into a black cape. It moved like shadows with every step Leon took. As he posed, they made sure to move just so the cape would fly through the air and billow like darkness.

            (Y/N)’s powers. Lucifer smiled.

            Noa walked next. Their braids were piled high on their head with a few hanging down around their face. Golden beads and a few fake coins hung in the braids. They had red eyeliner around their eyes and dark lipstick with red at the center of their lips.

            They had on black shirt with billowing sleeves and ruffled wrists. Sleek black pants were on the bottom, and though both were tailored incredibly well, the best part of the outfit was the corset. It was just around the waist and looked like porcelain—cleverly painted and put together. Gold bonding trailed up Noa’s waist and became an ornamental halter like armor. The part around the waist had red paneling that shone in the light. From the waist hung gold chains with black and gold beads.

            Noa posed with a smirk and a condescending, commanding look around the room.

            Maze.

            Mazikeen herself nodded with a smirk. She was pleased with how (Y/N) portrayed her and saw her.

            The next model wasn’t someone they knew, but the theme continued. This model had nude makeup, but that was because the outfit stood out enough to make it unnecessary to have any more definition.

            It was entirely red, from the jacket to the shirt to the pants. Red and dark scarlet jewels and beading were sewn into the lapels, around the collar, and onto the pants. As the model walked, the light glinted off the red, a beacon of hellish color.

            The Antichrist. Lucifer smiled. He felt it. It was (Y/N)'s signature color

            And now the finale. Em stepped out into the light and shone. Their red hair had slight waves despite its shortness, and gold dusted their cheeks. Her eyes were lined in white with golden eyeshadow, and simple metallic earrings were piercing their ears.

            But the dress. The dress. It was as golden as the light that shone in (Y/N)’s wings. As golden as the light that shone in them and their powers. As golden as a god.

            Em stepped forward. The dress had nude, transparent fabric across their neck and collar to allow for the dress to hand off their shoulders. It was beading around their neckline and became simple, wide sleeves. The dress fell around her like a waterfall of light, hanging asymmetrically down to their ankle. Golden heels glinted as Em walked down. From the straps hanging off their shoulders fell a long gold cape of tulle. It trailed as they walked, and Em glowed as they walked.

            Deity.

            It was breathtaking to watch (Y/N)’s work shine. Everyone just stared in awe as the golden magic of a dress passed by and returned backstage.

            And then each model came out again, one after another, to end the show—angel, the fallen, Eve, shadows, Maze, demon, Deity. (Y/N) emerged at the back. Everyone was on their feet in an instant, clapping. Lucifer grinned proudly alongside the rest of (Y/N)’s family as they walked to the end of the runway with Em at their side.

            They had on their usual outfit, but instead of black they had white. Their loose white pants had patches of red sewn on, and their red crop-top was over a white, translucent undershirt.

            (Y/N) grinned at everyone and bowed. They looked at Lucifer, and a huge pressure lifted from their shoulders as they saw him smiling. He was proud. (Y/N) had done it. They had made something beautiful.

l

            “So it was good?” said (Y/N) nervously.

            “Of course it was!” said Marcel

            “Everyone was entranced,” said Olive, grinning.

            “No one could take their eyes off your designs,” said Leon.

            “All your hard work paid off. The show was amazing,” said Noa.

            “Let’s get a photo,” said Em. “We need to commemorate Birdie’s first show.” Handing their phone to another student, all the models gathered in around (Y/N). “Say ‘Holy!’ ”

            (Y/N) almost glared, but as everyone cheered, they couldn’t help but laugh and grin.

            Click!

            A wonderful moment was captured.

l

            “That was incredible!” Lucifer hugged (Y/N) tightly as they came out as their friends changed backstage. “You are so so so talented! I’m so proud.”

            “Your work is beautiful, (Y/N),” said Chloe, smiling as (Y/N) was smooshed by Lucifer’s hug.

            “Badass is more like it,” said Maze approvingly.

            “I loved the black dress,” said Eve, smiling.

            “Your inspiration was clear, but the way you made it was just…magnificent,” said Linda.

            “It had a lot of love in it,” said Amenadiel.

            “Thank you, everyone,” said (Y/N), smiling at everyone. “I’m very glad you liked it. I really worked hard.”

            “It certainly paid off. It was pure art,” said Lucifer.

            “…I got an offer because of it,” said (Y/N) quietly.

            “What?” Lucifer looked at them.

            “I—Some of the people here work in the fashion industry, and they gave me a card and told me to come and speak to them.” (Y/N) looked at Lucifer. “They weren’t any of your—”

            “No favors here,” said Lucifer. “I have contacts in the industry, but this offer, this amazing skill you have, it’s all you.” Lucifer hugged them tightly as they smiled and teared up. The rest of their family watched happily. “I’m so proud of you, (Y/N).”

            (Y/N) closed their eyes as happy tears fell down their cheeks. “Thank you. Thank you so much, Dad.”

l

            “Getting a moment alone?” said Lucifer. He sat down next to (Y/N) on the terrace while the celebration of (Y/N)’s job/scholarship offer and their show continued inside the penthouse.

            (Y/N) smiled and nodded. “Yeah. Just wanted to get some fresh air.” They looked up at the stars above them. They were quiet as they sat with their Dad.

            “Is it going to change?” asked (Y/N).

            “What?” said Lucifer.

            “Everything. I’m…a deity. You can go to Heaven again. Your siblings are free to come and go from Earth. My friends and I are going to be doing Celestial things and university.” (Y/N) looked at Lucifer. “Everything is changing.”

            “(Y/N), you and all your friends are Celestial,” said Lucifer. “You can come and go from places as you’d like. You’re never far from them or your family.” He smiled. “And especially not me. Never me.”

            (Y/N) smiled and leaned on his shoulder. Lucifer hugged them.

            “Thanks, Dad,” they said softly.

            “You don’t need to thank me.” Lucifer smiled at them. “I’m your dad. I’m always going to be here for you. That will never change.”

            “It’s weird to think that just a few years ago I was just some kid you found,” said (Y/N). “And now I went from an Adolescent Antichrist to Adolescent Deity.”

            “And I went from Devil to Dad,” said Lucifer. He chuckled. “What a pair we are.”

            (Y/N) smiled. “When do you think we became a pair? Father and child?”

            Lucifer considered. “I don’t know. I think I knew you were important to me from the start. The labels…it just came naturally. But I knew I cared from the start.”

            (Y/N) looked back up at the stars with a happy gleam in their eyes. “I think I knew it, too.”

            “I love you, (Y/N),” said Lucifer. “Forever and always.”

            (Y/N) closed their eyes as Lucifer held them tightly and kissed their forehead. They were home. They had their greatest desire—love. “I love you, too, Dad.”

            And love would never change.

Taglist:

@sammyscreencaps-13

@grippleback-galaxy-galaxy

@scarlettqueen190

@ziro-the-null-god

@sammy-13

@zeros-rot

@ceridwyn3

@technikerin23

@poetoflawed

@slytherinroyalty16

@ilse235

@theurbannoodle

@lookitseddie

@amberforest08

@snowy-violet

[beastsovrevelation]

Archangel Michael x F!Demon!SO Moodboard

[scary-grace]

sometimes working on x reader fics genuinely feels like trying and failing to exorcise multiple demons

[gravehags]

natalie getting an inner bicep tattoo of a cardinal (bird) wearing copia’s red biretta and a gold grucifix surrounded by the orange roses he gave her at the beginning of their romantic relationship. and she gets it while he’s on tour to surprise him and when he sees it for the first time accompanied by nat’s beaming face so filled with adoration he immediately starts sobbing. send tweet.

[onceuponapuffin]

Fanatic Intervention Part 20!!!

Okay, here we are! Part 20! I was finally starting to feel more myself again today, so I was able to finish it :D

I planned for Newt and Adam to be one installment, but the story has demanded it need at least two parts. SO! Here we go!

Let's do this.

Beginning || Previous || Next

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

Luckily for all parties concerned, Adam happened to be on half term break. This meant that all Newt needed to do to convince him and his mother to let him take a train to London, was promise that the kind and well-respected Mr. Fell would write Adam a Letter of Recommendation for Uni. And so, Newt met him at King’s Cross on a rainy London morning, and left the train station on a suspiciously sunny London afternoon. Adam enjoyed riding the tube, but seemed much less impressed by the time he was standing outside the bookshop himself. The teenage ex-antichrist stood outside the door of the bookshop looking at it like it was something stuck on the bottom of his shoe.

“Well,” said Newt, “This is it.”

Adam hummed to himself in thought before turning his attention to Maggie’s record shop. “Just hold on a sec,” he said to Newt by way of explanation, and beelined for Maggie’s instead. Newt, surprised by this development, went after him.

“Uh, we have records in the shop already, you know.”

Adam ignored him and opened the door to the record shop, where Maggie was asleep on the counter. At the sound of the bell, her head popped up and Newt could have sworn she jumped nearly three feet in the air.

“Oh!” She cried in surprise, but her expression changed to a smile when she saw Adam. “Hello, young man. If I can help you find anything let me know.” Maggie was practically beaming at the thought of having a customer. And a young one at that!

“Actually,” Adam began, “Mr. Fell from next door asked me to pop by and help him with some things around his shop. But he doesn’t seem to be in at the minute. Do you think he’d mind if I went inside without him there?”

Maggie’s customer service smile softened to a motherly one. “Oh my dear, I bet Mr. Fell would absolutely be alright with you going in. Especially since you’ve got Newt right here to watch over you. You go right on inside, and if he says anything about it, you tell him I said so.” She winked for emphasis. Adam smiled and nodded.

“Thank you very much, Maggie,” he said politely. Then he turned and left with Newt following behind. Maggie watched after them for a moment, but it wasn’t until much later that she realized she hadn’t told him her name.

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

Newt watched as Adam approached the door of the bookshop and placed his hand on the handle. For reasons Newt didn’t understand, Adam still hesitated and took a deep breath before opening it and stepping over the threshold. Newt followed behind like a lost puppy. To be honest, he was rather lost already. He didn’t understand the things Adam was doing or why he was doing them, and really he didn’t know how to go about asking either without sounding rude.

“Erm, you alright Adam?” Was about the closest Newt was able to get. He closed the door behind them and locked it just in case.

“It smells funny here,” Adam replied with a scrunched-up nose.

“Probably the books,” Newt explained, “A lot of them are very old here.”

“No,” Adam said, “It’s not the books.”

Despite not ever being to the bookshop before, Adam found his way to the flat without needing Newt to show him, and put his bag down in the second bedroom that Newt was certain hadn’t existed before. The moment he’d dropped his things, the teenage ex-antichrist turned to face Newt and pulled a small notebook and pen out of his pocket.

“Right,” he began, clicking the pen and opening the book, “Now while I’m here, there are a few things I absolutely need to do, you understand.”

Newt nodded along seriously. They were getting to business now, he could see. Best to get straight to it, yes.

“I need to try something called soo-shi. Pepper says it’s raw, and Wensleydale says it can’t be because you’d be sick, but then I saw a video on YouTube where a man ate a live octopus and its suction cups clung to his throat and killed him. So I need to try it and see if it’s alive or dead. Also, Brian found this old cartoon called Naruto and he asked me to see if I could find something called Ramen...”

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

It turned out that none of Adam’s friends were interested in souvenirs, and had instead requested he bring them back information – answers to their curiosities that they couldn’t absolutely confirm in the small village of Tadfield. Frankly, Newt found this to be rather charming, and allowed Adam to call the shots so to speak until after dinner. In this fashion, they managed to cross a few items off his list which included, but weren’t limited to: Is Piccadilly Circus actually a circus? (disappointingly, no), Does Sherlock Holmes actually live at 221B Baker Street? (Also, unfortunately, no), Is Sushi alive? (Alas, another no), and Is Ramen actually as good as it looks in the cartoons? (YES).

After a very expensive Japanese takeaway, Newt cleared this throat. “Adam, listen, we’ve had a great deal of fun, but I need your help with something very important.”

“I know,” Adam said, setting down his spoon and taking out his phone, “You need me to help you find an angel,” he looked up from his phone screen and into Newt’s eyes, “They’re your friend. I’m going to help you find them. Don’t worry.”

Much to his surprise, Newt found himself blinking back tears. It was the first time he had stopped to consider that he was in fact worried about Muriel. It had been his fault that they disappeared, or were kidnapped...er...angel-napped or whatever it was that had happened to them. And they were such a sweet soul, and he didn’t even know if they were safe. So yes, for the first time since Muriel’s actual disappearance, Newt realized that he was very worried for his friend.

Adam went back to his phone for a moment, tapping and swiping as he spoke. “I’m guessing you’ve already tried the communication circle under the rug, yeah?”

“Uh...yeah,” Newt said, wiping away the few tears that had managed to actually push to the surface, “Didn’t work. I just got…..voicemail.”

“Hm,” Adam looked up from his phone, eyes drifting towards the ceiling in thought, “I wonder...maybe they’re blocking it because they know it’s you.”

“What? Like Caller ID?”

“Something like that.”

“Then we could use a VPN or something?”

Adam raised his eyebrows and set his phone down on the table. “Huh,” he said, “Didn’t think old people knew about VPNs.”

“Hey,” Newt rebutted, “I’m not that old.”

“Pft. Yeah, okay Boomer.”

“I’m not…” Newt groaned in frustration. Teenagers. He took a deep breath and decided to try again. “I’ve loved computers and software since I was a kid,” he settled on, “Technology just...never really loved me back I guess.”

Adam nodded thoughtfully. “Well good,” he said, “I’m going to need you to understand what you’re doing once I go home.”

Despite feeling incredibly confused, Newt nodded. He didn’t understand how they were going to set up a VPN that could trick Heaven, but he did understand that he was placing the problem in very good hands.

❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ 🖤

Beginning || Previous || Next

[dreamalittledreamofcopia]

office romance w copia drabble

imagine working in copia's office and on one boring day you are doodling on a notepad and the bubble screensaver comes up on your computer. copia looks over at you and notices you spaced out and chuckles to himself. he twitches his nose bewitched style to conjure up some of his antichrist magic and makes the bubbles start flying across your screen erratically instead of the normal speed. the graphics are glitching and its chaotic and once you look up and notice it, you worry about the health of your desktop.

you look over to ask copia for help, but he's too busy poorly hiding his giggles. you roll your eyes playfully at him and your head falls onto your shoulder as you wheel your chair closer to his desk. one of your arms extend to retrieve your iced coffee and you take a sip, leaning over to give copia your best not impressed, but good try look.

"did you do that?" you ask as your eyes meet. the tips of his ears turn red and you are reminded that he does a shit job hiding his emotions.

copia could never lie to you, so instead of trying to come up with a suave way out, he just gives you a sweet, innocent smile. "maybe you are just earning your stripes, eh?" he offers, leaning his forearm on his desk to try to get closer to you. "the dark lord may be trying to entice you with the powers of the underworld."

"save it," you give in, giggling softly as you roll your eyes again. "you're so full of it, papa."

he grins at the nickname and the way that it is dripping with affection as it leaves your lips. "just want to make your life a little more interesting, mio cara."

"oh, you already do, papa."

[morningstar-the-antichrist]

More smut. Creative with his tail. Jack x Reader with gender-neutral terms to the best of my ability. Established situationship.

There were plenty of better ways to use the magic he's learned. But between his offices there's not much for him to use magic when he's mostly been dealing with paperwork.

But he's learned to tap into the natural chaos that's his birthright. Given it manifested form as he it restrains his lover to his bed. Jack takes a moment to admire them. He curiously wonders what they may have looked like as human and how much their form has changed since arriving in Hell.

They were completely naked, spread eagle, so there wasn't much left to the imagination....but there was plenty still left for creativity. Jack's tail flickered with excitement as a smirk grew on his face. He's had flashes of this thought in passing, but hasn't ever done much with it. The throes of passion would call for a caress or a flicker here and there...but it was never fully the main event.

Until now.

He made the tip of his tail caress its way up his partner's chest, up their neck, and flick just under their chin. The stare down was intense, air full of anticipation,and though he may be a tease, he wasn't one to bluff.

His tail caressed its way down his lover's chest once more, being mischievous with their nipples before continuing their way south.

Jack then gripped them by the chin and leaned in to kiss them. He began gently before deepening the kiss. His forked tongue asking for entry and once given, the kiss deepened more.

While they shared their debauched kissed, his tail began to tease the other's entrance. Still slicked up from previous rounds before easing its way in more and more until the spade 'head' was fully inside of his partner. Thrusting began carefully, Jack being mindful of his partner's reaction, though his hands and mouth kept them pleased while they adjusted to any discomfort.

When he pulled back from the kiss, he wiped the saliva from his chin, and smirked, "How's that feel, sweetheart?"

[sister-juniper]

Suggestions for future book chapters

Guyssss im writing a Copia book

The book is based off of the theory that he is Sister Imperator's son, and how he has to keep his identity a secret. So basically he has a bunch of childhood trauma.

The book is going to be really long, and will probably end around when he becomes Papa.

I have currently written three chapters and have posted chapter 1 on my blog!! The book is called "Copia's Secret" btw.

Pleaseeeee give me suggestions for any chapter themes you would like to see in the future. I am having writers block ;-;

my ao3

my wattpad

[ozzgin]

I just watched The First Omen at the cinema and you may go ahead and cuff me for blasphemy, but…

Devil x Reader

You have been chosen by the Cult as the one to carry their ungodly plan after many failed attempts. This time it was a success, yet not for the reasons they might expect. The Devil has his eyes on you.

Content: female reader, mentions of pregnancy, religious themes, blasphemy, violence, horror, a non-consent scene!, based on The First Omen (2024); image from the promotional poster

Why you, of all people? You're not particularly devoted to religion, nor do you stand out in terms of virtuousness. Or lack of, for that matter. Alas, their reasons remain unknown.

What's certain is that you woke up one day and found yourself strapped to a foreign bed, staring into a ceiling you didn't recognize. You weren't alone. Around your helpless form stood men and women, dressed in black and wearing a solemn smile. Your forehead received a gentle, encouraging stroke from the hand of the priest. The scent of chrism invaded your nostrils.

You begged them to release you. The older man spoke softly in your ear. "You are serving a greater purpose. It is all in the name of God." God? Purpose? You rolled your eyes back and gazed upon the large painting hanging behind you. Virgin Mary and her blissful smile and stretched out hands felt like a mockery.

The holy image vanished as a black cloth was nonchalantly draped over your face. You felt the rope tighten around your neck and begun gasping for the scarce air barely making it through the thick canvas. A crescendo of muffled chants, and the room went abruptly quiet. Had everyone left?

Then you heard it. That profane growl, causing the entirety of your body to shiver in repugnance and terror. You trashed, and pulled, and screamed, to no avail. A clawed hand rested on your bare stomach, then a second one traced the rest of your body. You laid limp, vision blurred as the room swayed in tandem with the sacrilegious act.

You'd been defiled by a Beast. The next time you opened your eyes, you were back in your bed. Your hopes of it being a mere nightmare were shattered the moment you lifted your gown and noticed the deep scratches, the monstrous prints left on your skin, and the hollow sensation in the pit of your stomach. Your body had been tampered with, and something was growing out of your misfortune. A vile blight, throbbing with life within the comfort of your flesh.

You spent the months haunted by voices and visions. The grotesque, horned Creature would frequently reappear in your mind, exhausting all other thoughts. Such a heavy, imposing presence. It wouldn't let you forget, not even for a second: you belonged to Him, and He would soon return to retrieve you. The mother of His child, the object of His adoration. Was such a thing even conceivable?

You prayed to be left alone, yet the Cult naturally longed for its promised gift, bound to come back eventually. And so, once more, you were facing the people who caused your despair. "We've come for the child", the priest explained, glancing at your obvious, bulging belly. The clawed hand framing it was still a fresh wound that never healed, almost as an ominous warning: this body was owned by a jealous God.

Your trembling hands revealed a pocketknife. This time, you were prepared. The group took a moment to observe your daring gesture, then proceeded to approach you with calculated steps, with newfound resolve. Would you be able to keep them away? Their intentions were clear: you were in possession of the Antichrist, and they needed to secure this immense power.

The ground shook, and everyone froze. You glanced at the altar painting, the same one that witnessed your corruption. Virgin Mary remained with an unfaltering smile. From behind the ornate frame, large, horrid hands creeped out. A travesty of everything Holy. The priest gasped and quickly threw his hands in prayer. This was not part of the plan. This was not meant to happen.

"Pater noster, qui es in caelis-" he began, but his voice was cut short. His face turned pale, and he clutched his chest with a terrible grimace. The nun next to him let out a scream before she was pushed away by an invisible force. Her body hit the wall with a loud, wet sound of bones breaking and flesh tearing. You stared at the massacre unfolding before you, devoid of any fear. Somehow, in the depths of your soul, you knew you'd be safe.

An enormous shadow emerged from behind the painting, twisting, bending, stalking towards you. Your nose scrunched at the stench of blood. You were the last one standing among corpses. To your surprise, you exhaled deeply, shoulders drooping in comfort. A silent voice murmured in your ear, telling you not to fear. That Father was finally home for you.

Foolish, ridiculous humans. He'd been willing to entertain their petty plans of grandeur, until he met you: your tender, frail body, your innocent soul. How exalting it was to have his way with you. You were meant to be the one. To carry His offspring into the damned world. But not for some trifling reason of a Cult desperate to crawl their way back into control. Their greatest mistake - which led to their demise - was to assume the Devil himself can be controlled, ordered around. He has allowed you the greatest honor of joining him, out of your free will, to sow the seeds of chaos as his beloved mortal.

Thus, he couldn't have possibly allowed anyone to interfere. What you saw that day, in that old, musty underground cavern, was an omen: a bloodbath awaits the one who dares to approach his human.

You look up into the demonic orbs: trenches of madness, obsession, vulgarity, burning holes into you, slurping your very existence with hunger and lust. You are his.

[cursingtoji]

𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 — 𝓜𝓲𝓭𝓭𝓵𝓮 𝓖𝓻𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓭

ᥫ᭡ Suguru never thought he would see the girlfriend he murdered years ago when he decided there was no space in his life for non-sorcerers, yet he never said anything about her lost soul.

cw: ghost! f reader x cult leader!geto, reader can’t speak much, invisible fucking (?), oral, fingering, squirting, exhibitionism, body worship, praising, one quick mention of impregnation, slight violence (towards someone else), reader gets jealous of Suda, mentions of buddhist rituals and the antichrist (separate events), poor death jokes. 6.2k words (not sorry). #— cult-tober

ᥫ᭡ inspired by lady k and the sick man — hentai manga (read it at your own risk).

note: thank you everyone who asked about the status of this fic, you encouraged me to finish it <3

Geto knew what he was doing the day he decided to cut everyone out of his life. Some of them, such as Gojo and Shoko, he just cut ties, others, he took their lives.

The people from that despicable village were first, then his own parents, and lastly, his girlfriend.

He would be lying if he said any of these killings made him feel bad, but the one that got closer to hurting him was, of course, yours.

Already numb from the previous deaths, keeping you alive wasn’t really an option.

Though Suguru was gentle, he waited for you to fall asleep while cuddling him after kissing his face and emphasizing how well rested he looked.

“Getting back on your feet, eh?” your words.

He didn’t think he would keep thinking of you, in that moment and the following years he was so focused on his long term goals and new discovered hatred that he managed to push you to the back of his mind.

Now he’s established, he has quite a lot of donors to his cause, a loyal group of sorcerers that share his vision and to top it all, the strongest set of curses that any curse user could only dream of.

Reaching such a satisfying point of his life makes him reflect upon the things he doesn’t have.

When Geto rests his head on the pillow at night he remembers the couples he sees through the day, the teenagers confessing when they can’t even look into each other’s eyes.

Naturally, he thinks of you.

The two of you were different, he took your hand and looked deeply into your eyes, you looked back, for many times after that you tended to look away whenever he said something suggestive or romantic, or even when he stared into your eyes for too long, and Suguru made sure to bring your eyes back to him.

Why couldn’t you have been born a sorcerer? You didn’t even need cursed energy, if you could only see curses that would be enough to him.

Geto sighs, it has been a few months since he started to think of you so frequently.

He’s a man of needs, from time to time he indulges himself into masturbating since sleeping with a human is out of the question and sleeping with a fellow sorcerer would only bring complications into his so-called family.

So, in the mornings, way before any of his duties, he takes the box from under his bed and sprays the perfume you used to use on the pillow beside his. He had an internal fight before buying that perfume, a girl was offering samples outside a store and once the scent reached his nostrils he was invaded by memories he thought he had buried years ago. He bought the bottle nevertheless, shaking his head sadly when the lady asked if she should wrap it as a gift.

The liquid in the bottle hasn’t decreased much, since it lasts quite a long time on his sheets. He sprays once in the pillow, or on his shirt, the one you used to steal from him all the time cause it was your favorite.

His boxers are pushed down, sometimes he fists his cock while looking at the pictures in his box, your pictures, unfortunately he had no spicy pictures, back when you were together nudes weren’t so common, not when you couldn’t password protect a digital camera and flip phones cameras sucked.

He uses the smiling pictures you insisted on taking on your dates, he usually was flipping, or had his tongue out

His favorite is the one you took in a photo booth, the first picture he somehow convinced you to show your tongue with him, the second both of you were laughing, the third you were kissing.

Those three pictures, plus the smell of your perfume is enough for him to remember that kiss vividly.

He teases his tip, thinking about how soft your breasts felt under his hand.

He couldn’t kiss you like that and just leave the photo booth, he had you on his lap, the confined space added to the risk of being caught was so exciting.

Geto spills his load on his stomach, his mind still playing the memory of him kissing your neck, while you caressed his hair urging him to soften down quickly so you could leave the booth and go back to your place. He put his arm around your shoulders, kissing your temple and getting a playful slap on his chest. You didn’t like pda, “people look at us weirdly” you said, but were the first to take his hand or pout when didn’t put his arm around you.

Geto is about to fall back asleep, it started to rain outside, he should be up in an hour but he’s feeling too nostalgic, in a bad way, so the association would have to go through the day without him.

Suguru turns to the side, the rain makes him remember the day you met him at his dorm, for what was supposed to be a date, but the weather changed so you cuddled on his single bed giggling about what would happen if someone knew you, a non-sorcerer, was inside such a exclusive facility like jujutsu tech when you shouldn’t even known it existed. Suguru kissed your face, cheeks, nose and lips, and assured you he would fight anyone that dared to say you were not welcome there.

He promised to keep you safe, in simpler times, when he had a best friend and a future as an ally of the jujutsu world.

Suguru feels a lump on his throat, but he swallows it, allowing his mind to fade away and muscles to relax as he’s back asleep.

Apparently, he needed that few more hours. Suguru is awoken suddenly by a loud, trembling sound. He looks around confused, hating to be woken up instead of waking up naturally, his eyes open slowly expecting the sun, but outside is dark, Geto’s head snaps to his alarm clock wondering how he could have slept till so late, but it says eight in the morning still. What started as a rain turned into a full storm by now.

Suguru jumps from his bed, in order to close the window which had already soaked part of his carpet.

“Shit” he closes the glass window and attempts to turn on the lights, but nothing happens, probably a blackout due to the storm.

His bedroom turns cold, colder than before he closed the window.

A lightning illuminates the sky, and by consequence, his room, he sees a figure on the corner before getting swallowed back in the dark, he rubs his eyes sensing something is off.

The blue cursed energy light takes its shape around his hand, whoever/whatever thought it was a good idea to enter his room is about to regret.

He can see a shape, raising his hand to hit it, concentrating his energy on his fist.

Lightning strikes again.

It illuminates a face. Your face.

Geto’s hand is stopped in the air, his eyebrows leave the frown state and his mouth is hung open.

The electricity returns, his lamp casting a warm light into the bedroom.

He can fully see you now, taking a step back and lowering his hand.

Your face is much paler, hair is longer, like all the years that have passed to him passed to you too. That if you hadn’t seen the sun, or cut your hair, if you were alive all this time or… dead, as it looks, a phantasmagoric version of the girl he used to know.

You have a white dress — or more like a nightgown on —, it’s long and the straps are thin, looks comfortable. He hopes you felt comfortable all this time.

Geto says your name, in a whisper, rubbing his eyes again and wondering if he’s still dreaming.

You brace yourself slowly, as if you’re the one scared in this situation, he watches your mouth parting but closing again.

“Is it really you?” he takes a step closer but you take a step back hitting the wall, “Are you… afraid of me?”

Your eyes widen, they look opaque, shineless. Then you furrow your eyebrows, turn your hands into fists and hit his chest.

“You’re mad, I get it, I deserve it” he lets you punch him groaning angrily, never saying a word, he wonders if you can even speak.

“C’mere” he wraps his arms around you when you start to whimper.

Suguru considers actually being crazy or dreaming, cause you still smell like your old perfume.

“I’m not sure what is happening, I don’t really care, just please don’t go away” he tightens his hold on you believing you could disappear anytime, “You heard me? I was calling your name earlier” he lets go to caress your face, it’s still weird to look at your face when you have this bluish hue instead of the warm cheeks he knew.

You look away, exactly like you did when he said something naughty. So you did hear him when he was touching himself looking at your pictures together. Then he remembers something new, a conversation you had about whether he would find another girlfriend if you died, the type of thing a girl asks in a relationship when she’s bored. That or if their boyfriends would still love them if they were a worm.

Suguru doesn't seem to remember his answer, though he knew you had a tendency to get jealous easily.

“Not sure how much you saw all this time, but just so you know I’ve never been with anyone else” he assures.

Your gaze returns to him surprised, you didn’t know as it seems, he feels like asking questions, how long have you been around? What do you remember?

“You’re cold” he rubs your arms and your strap slides down allowing him to notice your breasts and your nipples marking the fabric, “I’m picking you up, alright?” and he does, wondering if you’re lighter or if he’s got stronger.

Suguru places you on his bed, now a much larger and more comfortable one than the one he had in his jujutsu tech dorm. He lays with you and covers you both with a duvet as you wiggle on his hold trying to find that position you liked to cuddle at.

“You’re so soft” his hand runs on your thigh, “I missed you so much” he squeezes you smelling your hair and kissing your temple all the way down your cheeks — which are way warmer now — until he meets your lips which he starts to peck lightly, though the pent up energy and the way his heart aches for you doesn’t allow him to take this slowly, instead he’s quick to deepen the kiss rolling his tongue with yours and pushing your straps down to fondle with yours breasts.

You whimper and try to move your legs from under him, with no success as he’s drunk on the feeling of having your body under his again.

Such sensitive nipples hardening under his fingers, the taste of you, yours hands pushing his—

He’s pushed off the bed with more strength than he ever thought you would have. You get rid of the duvet and kneels down to where he lays on the floor, he thinks that’s all a play until a very real hand slaps his face, harshly, then you run and disappear through the wall.

Suguru sighs, noticing his boner and resting on the floor.

“…then we’ll be all set, Geto-sama. Geto-sama?” Suda asks, noticing how deep he’s in whatever he’s reading.

“Thank you, Manami” he dismisses her, not taking his eyes off the book.

Geto decided to do some research, to understand how it was possible for you to have appeared to him.

Turns out, in all the books and archives he has of the jujutsu world, there’s only one explanation for why a human would have come back after death.

He cursed you, somehow.

Reversing the curse.

He closes the book when seeing the title of the next chapter, that’s not what he’s interested in.

Geto closes his eyes massaging the bridge of his nose, that day’s duties are already giving him a headache.

A hand manifests out of thin air, touching his cheek. Definitely something worthy of a jump scare, but after an initial surprise, Geto softens his features and puts his hand on top of yours.

The rest of your body manifests slowly, you’re on top of the table he was reading at, your legs dangle on the side, your hair covers part of your face and it’s long enough to reach the table's surface.

“Hello, beautiful” he brushes the hair away from your face, your thumb rubs his cheekbone, the place you hit the day before, it’s not sore or even bruised, the only scar that it left was an emotional one and he senses you’re apologizing for hitting him, though he’s the one that should be begging your forgiveness.

“I’m sorry about last time, I got too excited to see you again and forgot the most important thing” he took both your cold hands and kissed your knuckles, “To apologize, for taking your life” he’s not capable of looking up, not yet, “I’m sorry.”

He thought if he should do that for a long time, since he doesn’t regret the things he’s done to get where he is today, and Geto believed that if you had the chance to go back in time to do things differently and still wouldn’t do it, you couldn’t say you’re sorry for what you did. And he would do it all over again.

He is sorry for you though, he’s sorry for crossing your life and revealing all the things you shouldn’t know in the first place, he’s sorry for depriving you from a normal life, unaware of the existence of curses and sorcerers.

“I’m glad you’re here now” he rests his head on your lap hugging your hips and bringing you closer.

You caress his hair, minding the bun, his hair is also much longer than the last time you saw him, you always said he should grow it out since his hair was so naturally lustrous. He teased you, asking if you were jealous of his gorgeous hair. Now, he snorts, remembering the conversation and untying the half bun so you can run your fingers freely.

Geto, with his head still on your lap notices your feet dangling happily, one on each side of his. He reaches for your right one, brushing his fingers on your sole causing you to squeal, he laughs softly, seemingly you’re not able to speak, only to express yourself through little sounds. His hand wraps around your ankle then rubs the extension of your calves until he reaches your knee, pushing the hem of your dress just enough to expose your thigh for him to start kissing.

“We don’t have to do anything okay? I just want to touch you” he rubs his cheek on the skin of your thigh, like a cat asking for affection.

Your hands leave his hair and his heart beats faster assuming you’re about to leave him, instead you take the hem of your dress and lift it up all the way to your hips, revealing your uncovered pussy to him. The afterlife must be more comfortable without underwear.

Geto grins, accepting what you’re offering him, pushing his chair enough to give him space to dip his head lower and further into your legs.

You being the good dead girl you are, lean back and spread your legs watching with wide eyes the black head of the cult leader getting lost under your dress.

He starts by kissing your folds and rubbing the space between your hips and thighs, taking a mental note of how warm you get when touched by him.

Suguru nuzzles into you, rubbing the tip of his nose on your clit while you squirm. He takes your ankle and helps place your foot on the table to give him more room to eat you out.

What a sin it would be if someone so good at sweet talking others was bad with his tongue.

Thankfully that’s not Suguru.

He quickly drives his attention to your hole, teasing it until he feels your hand gripping his hair, he spreads your flexed leg further and pushes his tongue in, not being able to hold back a moan when he feels you contracting around his muscle.

His nail is digging on your thigh, which he can tell you desperately want to close, still so sensible even after all these years.

Soft breaths echo through the library, Geto feels bad for not being able to hear your beautiful moans, maybe there’s a book about giving back ghosts their voices? Well, the whole thing is a work in progress, but right now he’s too busy to progress that far.

You tug his hair twice, “What’s that, love? Trying to say something?” he keeps his tongue still, pressing it in your bud and shaking his head slightly, he can hear you’re trying to say something over breathy gasps, “You beggin’?” he chuckles on your core, the vibrations make you want more so you raise your other leg, “Who am I to say no to my girl…”

Suguru slides both hands to your lower back, holding you still and kicking his chair back to kneel and be more leveled with your cunt.

He loved to finger you, seeing your face contorting and kissing your tears when you orgasmed on his hand, but he loves more making you cum with his mouth only. Felt so much more intimate, it was the same difference of killing someone with a weapon and with his bare hands. Not an analogy many people can understand, but makes perfect sense to him.

Suguru laps at you like a mad man, sucking and using teeth, every tool he has to give you the orgasm of your lif—

The best orgasm you ever had.

And he knows it’s working due to your shaking thighs and arching spine.

He’s almost without air but when he notices your curving toes he tells himself to endure a bit more.

“Oh it’s coming” and soon he’s rewarded with your throbbing clit on his lips and a clear liquid being sprayed on his chin and chest. Being the tease he is, he laps at your swollen bud a bit more till you have to push him away.

“Sweet” he murmurs, kissing your shaking thigh and admiring your swollen glistening folds. You lay back to recover from the mind blowing orgasm and he sneaks a hand to grab his phone, opening the camera but frowning his eyebrows when nothing but the table getting reflected in his screen. Apparently phone cameras don’t work on ghosts “Too bad, guess I’ll have to remember the sight” he rests his head on your thigh and reaches a finger to caress you like he’s drawing on your skin.

“Geto-sama, we got another check” Suda pushes the door and you sit up quickly, but her eyes are solo on Geto, a questionable look on her face, probably noticing his disheveled hair and his kneeled position on the floor, “Is everything okay?”

Suguru blinks, shifting his eyes to you and her, doubting if his fellow sorcerer really couldn’t see the half naked woman dripping on the table.

Maybe even sorcerers couldn’t see it all.

“Yes, you can give me that” he got up, wiping his mouth with his sleeve, taking the envelope and closing the door.

When he turns back you are gone. Geto sighs and bumps his head on the door.

Still managing to deal with everything that has been happening, Geto goes to the scheduled meeting in a bad mood, not having seen you since the library incident the previous day.

He’s the last one to arrive, sitting cross legged on the mat at the head of the table. Suda is on his right, taking notes on the meeting, which is boring Geto to no end.

Suda leans in, whispering a question to Geto and showing the notes while the rest of the people discuss financial matters.

“Did someone open the window? It’s so cold all of the sudden” Suda rubs her arms and Geto raises his head from the hand supporting it.

The room did get chiller.

He looks behind his shoulder and sees you, under a different light, a darker one. Your hair is floating and your face is dark, he can only see your widened eyes, they’re fixed on Suda.

Geto raises an eyebrow and discreetly pats his lap smiling at you.

The dark aura around you fades off a little bit and he can see your beautiful features again while you move your bare feet in his direction and take a seat between his legs facing him. In a natural motion he runs his hand on your hair and kisses your forehead, hoping it actually looked natural and not like he was patting an invisible person.

“Geto-sama, is this correct?” Suda leans in again, pushing her cleavage into Geto’s view and invading his — unknowingly also yours — personal space.

Your head turns almost 360°, the scary things you do only turn Suguru on more. The dark aura is back again.

“Don’t be jealous” he whispers very quietly.

“What was that?” Suda asks leaning in more.

You turn the rest of your body in a ghost-like manner, reaching claw-like hand to Suda’s face.

“Yes, Manami, please pay attention” he takes your hand, guiding it slowly to his pants so you could see how happy he was to see you meanwhile his other hand raises your dress and massages your folds.

You lean back on his chest, he puts his chin on top of your head looking down at your beautiful legs extended under the table.

“Isn’t that right, Geto-sama?” Larue asks and everybody turns their attention to their mentally-checked-out leader. Geto notices you tensing up, like their attention is on you too. Which would be if they could see you.

Afterall, who wouldn’t want to see a gorgeous little thing melting by having her clit played with under her dress?

You two never took things out of the bedroom, so the recent days have been nothing but new experiences.

Swiftly, Geto hooks his finger on the top of your dress bringing it down and exposing your breasts to, in reality, no one but himself, still you squeak and try to cover yourself but Geto is faster, holding both your hands behind you.

“Sounds great” he smiles at the people waiting for an answer about a topic he couldn’t care less about, instead he’s more concerned about moving the two fingers inside your gummy walls.

They get back to discussing it among themselves, Geto pretends to pay attention looking at a fixed spot and missing the way Suda is looking at him.

You don’t miss it though.

That’s how you’re supposed to look at him, you only.

It’s borderline outrageous to see her so heart eyed at your man while he’s finger-deep inside your cunt with his erection poking your lower back.

Jealousy starts to take over you again, Suguru is still holding your arms, so you use your leg to swing a move on the water jar on top of the table, shattering it and spilling the water all over Suda.

Everyone gasps, raising from the table and removing their paper to avoid getting wet too.

“What was that?!” she yells.

“Seems like we have a naughty ghost around” Geto jokes, pinching your clit, “Or it’s a sign from heavens to end this meeting, Suda please try to save these notes” he motions to her soaked notepad, “Close the door on your way out, I’ll clean this.”

“But Geto-sama—“ he knew someone would protest it.

“We’ll continue tomorrow” he said firmly, everyone bowed respectfully before leaving the room.

“Tsk tsk, that was unnecessary” he lets go of your arms, you turn around, kissing your man and pushing his chest until he’s laying on the floor with you on top.

Geto puts his arm around you, keeping you close while playing with your tongues, he’s strong enough to hold you tight, not letting you get away from him.

Your hands go to his complicated clothing, trying to undo the knots of it and free him for you to touch.

“Here, I got this” he undoes everything that needs to be undone with one hand while still holding you, you finish pushing his clothing out of his body until every fabric that once wrapped him is thrown all over the floors of the small room.

Finally, you could see him.

Geto kisses your ear and sucks your lobe while you run your hand over his torso, a faded memory coming to your head when you touch the x shaped scar on his chest. It’s much lighter now, you remember it being a shade of purple and red, holding back your tears at the time for seeing your lover hurt like that. He ensured it was nothing, he barely felt it due to the adrenaline.

At the time you wished you were there to take care of him, to patch and clean him, now you realize you wouldn’t be able to survive if you saw him bleeding and unconscious.

Maybe it all happened for the best.

You touch his abdomen, following the happy trail down to his shaft.

Geto is so strong now, he’s big enough for you to feel small even being on top of him, his thighs support you and his strong arm ensures you stay close.

You take his dick in your hand, kissing his neck and pumping him slowly. Suguru throws his head back, moving his hand to hold your ass as you work him up. Not that he needed much, from the moment he saw you crazy jealous over Suda he was hard already. No, actually, scratch that, from the moment he saw you, he was hard already. His heart beat faster, pumping the blood that went straight to his dick.

“Alright, baby, I can’t wait anymore” he pushes your dress up, getting you completely bare like him and moving your hips until your cunt hovers above his throbbing cock. You sink on him biting your lips, a habit from when you actually had a voice to moan and thought you should keep quiet.

Geto though, moans for the two of you, not caring if anyone hears him ‘cause he’s the boss, what would they do?

The feeling of your pussy around his cock is all he can think now, if you asked him to release all his curses right now he would.

God, he missed this. No toy would ever come close to the real thing.

Geto can’t help but admire your long hair, it is like a waterfall, running through your body and pooling on his torso. He takes a strand and plays with it around his finger.

“You’re still so tight, move your pretty ass for me, yes?” you nod, adjusting your posture and setting a rhythm, “That’s it, good girl” he holds your breast, rubbing a thumb on your perky nipple and raising enough to take the other one on his mouth.

Whatever important things he had that day, it’s all canceled now. His new plan is to stay buried in your pussy and sucking your tits all day long.

“You’re doing so well, baby, but I’ll take charge now, ‘kay?” he reaches behind you to brush away the glass remains and places you on top of the table carefully, “You’re so cute” he bends to kiss you, your hands caress his back muscles, thighs holding him inside you.

You don’t let him go away, not even for an inch, not even when you need air… do you really need it though? What would happen if you didn’t breathe? Die? Hah.

“So needy” he laughs softly and pecks your lips actually needing air, now he’s the one with long hair falling on your face, you brush it back and nibble on his chin, clenching around him as he hits that delicious spot.

Suguru is so pretty. Back then he had a boyish look and young charm, now he’s a man, his jawline is stronger and he lost some fat he had on his cheeks, too bad because you loved to kiss his soft cheeks. His arms are way bigger now too, when he readjusts himself to fuck you on a better angle you get a view that no sculpture in the world would ever compare. Light shines behind Suguru, his chest glistens with sweat, some strands of his hair sticking to his perfect skin, the sight of his v line alone makes your clit throb.

Geto stretches you so well and perfectly, “So good, baby.”

He's an angel, you’re convinced. Makes sense now, this is your heaven, being beside him forever, getting him to touch you in front of other people without feeling shame, haunting women that look at him with lust in their eyes.

“Nnnhg Sugu—“ you slap your mouth shocked by the actual words that came out.

“Fuck” he grabs your face kissing you hard, “Say that again” he asks thought a breathy almost desperate tone.

“Su—guru, Suguru” you moan, barely using a real voice.

“Fuck, I’m close. Can I come inside, baby? Huh?” he presses your belly down, “Maybe we should test whether you can get pregnant, that would be a miracle right? Or maybe we would have the antichrist” he smirks in a teasing way and you lightly slap his chest, not liking the idea of bearing the evil, although if he keeps thrusting like that you might change your mind.

Your legs tighten around his small waist, pulling him closer, “Squeezing me so well, I— haa“ he shuts his eyes, “‘Wanna cum with you, love” he lowers his hand to where you meet rubbing your clit with his thumb, you raise your hands to his shoulder pulling him to you until your sweaty foreheads touch.

Geto can see through your rolling eyes you’re close so he speeds up his thumb while thrusting sloppier.

“Still feels like our first time, you know?” he confesses, in love with the way you feel, not just your insides but also, your smell, your warmth, your sounds. All his sense are focused on you.

Your knot finally unties, nails sinking on his shoulder and heels pressing on his back, your mouth is hanging open while Suguru nuzzles on your cheek, “I’m losing my mind” your hips roll trying to meet his thrusts, he cums hard too, moaning majestically and filling you so much you know you won’t be able to hold it all.

“Oh baby” he runs a hand on your face, kissing you lovely. You kiss him back, putting in the gesture every word you cannot say.

Suguru was still trying to manage his duties as a leader and as a boyfriend, at least that’s what he thinks he is since you don’t exactly have the privilege to see other people and he doesn’t even want other people.

The thing is, unlike a normal (alive) girlfriend, you can’t go with him anywhere. To be more specific, apparently you can’t even leave the premises of the temple, the furthest you can go is sitting at the engawa and dangle your feet off the edge. Suguru promised to find whatever was keeping you there and figure a way to have you around him wherever he is.

Now, he’s in Hokkaido, after holding you cold dead hands and promising he would be back soon. In the meantime you explored every inch of the floor where Suguru slept, trying to find some item that was tying you there, with no success. So you begin to wander into other areas of the temple, with Suguru gone there isn't that many people around either, and even though no one can see you, it still felt weird being around other people, especially when someone walked through you.

When you enter the praying room you notice someone there, sitting on their knees in front of a buddha statue.

Curiosity takes the best of you and you approach the man, wanting to hear what he's praying for, you bend your torso beside him, having your long hair touch the floor, you suppose it would be a scary sight, but you doubt anyone except Geto can see you at this point.

You adjust your posture, but being clumsy doesn't go away with your physical body, so you stumble and end up hitting a gong.

And of course, it doesn't go through you as it's supposed to. Whoever is in charge of deciding the moments you can touch the physical realm is a sadist.

The man who was praying is now standing up shaking like crazy, he’s asking who’s there but you cover your mouth (as if you could speak anyways). A second man enters the room, due to his traditional clothing you judge he’s an authority figure in the temple, but not being a buddhist during your lifetime you can’t be certain.

The first man is explaining what happened while you try to tiptoe your way out of this embarrassing situation (for you and scary for the man that will probably not sleep tonight).

Before you leave you can hear the second man saying this sorta thing has been happening around the temple, people are reporting a sudden cold air, things being moved out of the place and crying sounds during the night.

All your fault of course and half Geto’s fault on the last statement.

Not sad cries by the way but you can see why people would think that.

In fact, Suguru was very determined to have you voicing your pleasure, you still can’t talk, but he learned that through a very strong emotion your voice cords become stronger or at least existent for a brief moment. He’s still testing that and writing his experiments in a notebook.

Suguru says he wants to bring you back at some point but for now he can only do those kinds of experiments, you are happy to be beside him no matter what so you naturally accepts being his guinea pig, the initial resentment you had when you first saw him that day is long gone now. Is not like you have enough energy to think about your death anyways, at some point during the day you become extremely sleepy and eventually disappear, so you have to make the best out of your time with Geto.

Being back in his room you find your way under his blankets, the previous interaction seemed to have drained your energy, you should tell Geto about that so he can write it down in his notebook.

Finally.

Geto opens the car door before the vehicle fully stops at the entrance of the temple, it was only 2 days but he felt like weeks passed by.

And it wasn’t just a homesick feeling, he barely had a home. He just missed you. For years he was by himself, being satisfied with a few pictures and a perfume bottle, yet now he has the real thing — you —, one day without you hits harder than the almost ten years that went by.

It’s punishment, he knows it, the guilt must be felt, he didn’t feel it for ten years so he’s gotta feel it all in two days.

If only you could have a phone in the afterlife to facetime him…

None of that is important now, because he’s back and on his way to find you.

What he finds instead is concerning.

A familiar man with traditional clothes holds a cord and repeats a buddhist chant. The floor he lives in smells weird, in the corner of the room you have your hands around your ears, sitting on your knees and glitching like a scene playing in an old tv during a storm.

“S-Stop” he hears from you, in a strangled hoarse voice.

Suguru’s heart stops for a second, considering for the first time the chance of you being taken away from him. Again.

No, that won’t happen. That exorcism will not continue.

His heart is back, beating at its fastest now, he summons a curse, one too strong for a simple monkey, he blames his emotions for that but he smiles when he sees the half body dropping on the floor.

Your eyes are closed, hands still covering your ears, when you open them — after realizing the awful pain in your heart and head is gone — Suguru is standing in front of you, kneeling and smiling kindly.

He takes your head, running his thumb on your cheek before kissing you, trying to engrave the shape of your lips on his.

“Keep your eyes close for me, beautiful” you obey, keeping them shut when Suguru manhandles you into his hold and gets up, bringing you to his bedroom and away from the dead body, afraid of the bad memories it may bring you.

“There you go, i’m sorry about that” he kisses your forehead sitting down at his chair with you, “Guess it’s too dangerous to leave you alone, huh?”

You snuggle on his embrace, happy to finally have him back to warm you.

Through a whisper — since that’s the loudest sound that can possibly leave your lips — you confess “I missed you” Suguru pulls you away to look at your face, you can see he’s surprised you managed to speak, he also notices the glassy look in your eyes.

“I love you” your eyes widen, it’s the first time since your death he says it.

Since your death?

“I can’t say I'm sorry” he kissed your cheek and closed your still opened eyes “but I can say I love you, i’ll always love you.”

The memory makes your eyes water.

Well, maybe it’s not the first time since your death, but the first in your afterlife.

“I’ll do whatever it takes for us to stay together.”

🏷️ @rinntvrou @sad-darksoul @grsveeth0m @getomybeloved @sakurasimppp

note: my inbox is open for theories about this au, you can also check the #ghost!reader tag. also keep giving me ideas and i’ll keep writing 🤭

[anonymousewrites]

Adolescent Antichrist (Book 6) Chapter Fifteen

Father Figure! Lucifer Morningstar x Teen! Reader

Demon! OC x Reader

Chapter Fifteen: Do Something Worthwhile

Summary: Lucifer and (Y/N) fight Michael to begin a new era.

Mouse Note: Only one more chapter to go. I can't believe how far we've come.

            Wham!

            Michael stumbled back. He clutched the Flaming Sword and stared at Lucifer. He had expected him to back off upon seeing the blade that could kill him utterly and completely.

            But Lucifer wasn’t afraid. Or, he was, but anger was stronger than fear. No. Love was stronger. And Lucifer loved (Y/N). Michael couldn’t threaten (Y/N) without Lucifer interfering. He had to protect them, no matter the risk or cost.

            “Dad!” cried (Y/N), trying to move forward. Amenadiel grabbed them and pulled them back since the sword was dangerous.

            Lucifer advanced on Michael, and Michael swung at Lucifer. He ducked and rolled to dodge. He jumped to his feet, and Michael stabbed. Lucifer dodged, but the flames cut through his suit.

            (Y/N) lunged forward again, but Amenadiel held them back.

            “(Y/N), he has to do this on his own,” said Amenadiel.

            “To Hell with that, it’s my dad!” said (Y/N) indignantly.

            Michael chuckled and swung at Lucifer. He leaned back to dodge, but the hilt of the blade hit him, sending him flying. He hit the ground. Michael kicked his stomach, and he rolled over. Lucifer groaned in pain.

            (Y/N) pushed out of Amenadiel’s arms and looked at Zadkiel. “Your staff. Give it to me.”

            Zadkiel didn’t hesitate to hand it over. (Y/N) looked at Lucifer.

            “Dad!” they shouted.

            He looked at them, and (Y/N) tossed it to him. Lucifer caught the staff and blocked another stab from Michael.

            “Oh, ho-ho-ho-ho!” Michael grinned. “My brother has a stick, whatever shall I do?”

            Lucifer headbutted Michael. Michael groaned and stepped back. Lucifer swung the staff and hit him in the side. Michael jumped back and leapt into the air, black wings spread out. Lucifer’s white wings burst from his back, and he jumped after Michael. The battle took to the air.

            “That staff is all that’s left of the tree of life,” said Zadkiel, watching Lucifer with it.

            “Then it should be happy to be fighting for life instead of for death,” said (Y/N).

            “I can’t believe this is what God meant by figuring things out,” said Em. “I don’t think He wanted His children to fight.”

            “Or He was giving them free will,” said Marcel. “And He knew the consequences.”

            “That can’t just be it,” said Olive. “He wouldn’t have left His children to be hurt as His final act.”

            “What if He meant something more in His words?” said Leon, furrowing their brow.

            “Like what?” asked Noa.

            “I don’t know,” said Leon.

            (Y/N) watched Lucifer and Michael anxiously. Each time the sword and staff clashed, sparks flew. (Y/N) couldn’t stand the danger their dad was in. They needed to help him. They knew honor was a whole thing, but if Michael tried to really kill Lucifer, (Y/N) couldn’t just stand there!

            Lucifer flew back as Michael advanced on him. He blocked each stab and swing, but the heat of the blade was immense. He kicked Michael and shoved him back with the staff. The sun shone behind them, and the people below shielded their eyes to watch the figures battle in the air.

            They rose higher and higher into the air above the coliseum as the battle grew more and more dangerous. Each one was fierce in their fighting, vying for victory. Michael wanted his power, and Lucifer wanted his family safe. Neither was willing to give up.

            Around and around, they flew the length of the coliseum. They hit one another, neither gaining much of an advantage as they spun and dodged and slashed. Michael shouted in aggravation and struck over and over. Lucifer grunted as he blocked the attack over and over. He lowered with the hits.

            Michael slashed down, and the staff cracked. He grinned and swung down again. Lucifer blocked, and the staff broke. The force sent Lucifer flying. He struck the ground hard, and the group gasped. Michael landed and stood over him.

            “Goodbye, brother!” Michael raised the Flaming Sword.

            “No!”

            (Y/N)’s wings erupted from their back, and they leapt into the air. They slammed into Michael, and they went flying back together. Michael pushed (Y/N) back and swung. Their powerful wings flapped in the air, and (Y/N) soared up and away from him.

            “Birdie!” shouted Em worriedly.

            “(Y/N)!” cried Lucifer. His wings erupted, and he meant to fly once more, but shadows whipped up and restrained him.

            Other shadows grabbed the rest of the angels and (Y/N)’s friends and family. (Y/N) refused to let anyone they loved get hurt. This was their fight now. They eyed Michael warily, but determination was equally as present in their gaze.

            “You can’t be serious,” sneered Michael, circling them. “I’m got the Flaming Sword. I have the support of Heaven behind me.”

            “You have the fear of Heaven, and your track record against me isn’t that great,” said (Y/N). “So, why don’t we make it 5-0?”

            Michael narrowed his eyes and dove at them. (Y/N) dodged, using the shadows of the coliseum to grab for him. They snagged Michael’s wings, but he swung with the sword. The light cut through the shadows, letting him fly free once more. (Y/N) remained in the shadows, reaching for him as he flew.

            “You can’t defeat me with shadows this time!” jeered Michael. He lifted the flaming sword, and the darkness retreated from him. (Y/N) gritted their teeth. “So unless you want to tear the world apart again, Antichrist, you’re just going to be the first darkness this God destroys!”

            “I’ll never let you be God,” said (Y/N). “Not when your father left me to take care of things, and I said I’d keep things from going to Hell, and that includes stopping you!”

            “As if you have the power,” said Michael, twirling the sword. “Lucifer will never be God.”

            “That doesn’t mean you will be,” said (Y/N), flying straight towards him.

            All the shadows around them dove out with them. They smashed into Michael. Even as he swung and burned the darkness away, (Y/N) slammed into him. Michael went flying, and the cloud of darkness condensed around him. With a roar, Michael exploded out of it, flames flying around the sword. Seeing (Y/N) dart out of the shadows, he dove at them.

            (Y/N) evaded, but as he slashed, the flames burnt at their back. (Y/N) cried out, and their wings faltered. (Y/N) hit the ground, brought back their wings, and rolled. They hit a stop, and the shadows holding their friends and family left.

            “(Y/N)!” cried a worried chorus of voices.

            The moment before anyone could get to them, Michael grabbed them, and (Y/N) was pulled up into the sky. The sun was blinding as he shot upwards.

            “I’m going to teach them all a lesson,” hissed Michael. “You most of all, you presumptuous interloper! You’re still an abomination, and soon you’ll be a goddamned one!”

            (Y/N) grabbed his hands as he forced the blade towards them, and the heat seared at their neck. They cried out as their necklaces burned.

            “Let my child go!”

            Lucifer slammed into Michael, and Michael let go of (Y/N). They plummeted downwards. They let out a scream, startled.

            "(Y/N)!”

            Lucifer dove for them, and they reached up towards him as they tried to get their wings out and to work despite the burns. Their back ached, and the rush of air against the burns made them grit their teeth. Their fingers brushed against Lucifer’s.

            “Dad!” they cried helplessly.

            A dark shadow loomed up over them. Michael was a figure of black, a blot against the sun. He raised the Flaming Sword, and the fire seemed to melt with the sun as (Y/N) watched its power glow. And he brought it down towards Lucifer.

            Crack!

            Red jasper shards exploded around (Y/N)’s neck. Golden light enveloped their vision and the sky.

            Everyone on the ground shielded their eyes in shock. Michael and Lucifer were thrown to the sides and landed awkwardly on the ground. The Flaming Sword went flying through the air, the metal and fire disappearing in the explosion of light.

            When the light died, everyone lifted their gaze apprehensively. Lucifer looked up with pure panic, trying to find (Y/N). Michael groaned and tried to spot the Flaming Sword.

            Everyone found what they were looking for at the same moment.

            Floating in the light of the sunset was an angel. It was (Y/N). A faint golden shimmer still emanated from them as their wings supported them. Their red wings were spread wide, and the sunlight glinted off the golden iridescence of their feathers. The red and gold were like flames behind them as they descended. Real fire flew around their hand as they held the Flaming Sword. The fire seemed stronger and brighter than ever in (Y/N)’s hands. The brightness spread to their black markings that had turned a white-gold color, alight with magic. In fact, power itself radiated from them as they flew gracefully down to the ground.

            They landed and looked at everyone. Their friends, their family, and all the angels stared at them, unsure whether to be relieved, apprehensive, or both.

            (Y/N) took a deep, exhausted breath and looked at everyone. “No. More. Fighting.” They looked at all the angels. “God didn’t want this. He didn’t want you hurting each other, killing each other! He wanted you free to live your lives without His constant supervision and rule. So stop squandering that freedom on fighting.” They glared at everyone. “Do something worthwhile! Find who you are! God left you with freedom, which is way better than power. You can actually use freedom. Stop trying to figure out who His successor is because who really gives a damn who it is—”

            “It’s you.” Lucifer interrupted the rant with two simple words.

            (Y/N) faltered. “What?”

            “It’s you, (Y/N).” Lucifer smiled. “You’re His successor.”

            “I—” (Y/N) looked at their hands and saw the faint golden glow just beneath the surface. “Oh, god. No, no—”

            “(Y/N), He chose you,” said Lucifer. He took their hand and squeezed it. “He chose you.”

            “Take good care of things. Who better than you?” God’s strange final words echoed in their mind. All the odd statements, all the odd looks, all the odd compliments, it all coalesced into one fact—one plan. God’s plan.

            “I’m God’s successor?” breathed (Y/N).

            “Yes,” said Amenadiel. He smiled. “You are.” Amenadiel took a knee.

            “He knew you would take care of things better than we ever could.” Proudly, Lucifer took a knee.

            “We told you to campaign.” Noa took a knee.

            “We get the responsible God in the end.” Olive smiled and bowed.

            “He made a good choice.” Leon.

            “We knew you were the boss.” Marcel.

            “Who knew you’d fly so high, Birdie?” Em smiled lovingly and knelt.

            “I thought there was something significant about you,” said Zadkiel.

            One-by-one, the other people present bowed and took a knee before (Y/N). (Y/N). (Y/N) the Deity of Creation.

            “No!” Michael glared at them. “You can’t be! It’s—It’s supposed to be me! I was with Father. It…” The anger melted from his face as grief began to appear. “It was supposed to be me.”

            (Y/N) looked at Michael and walked towards him. Hesitantly, everyone else rose and watched the approach. Even Michael paled a bit.

            “Michael,” said (Y/N). “You have been a total, total asshole.”

            “Oh, no,” said Em, wincing.

            “You have hurt a lot of people,” said (Y/N).

            “What do we do if (Y/N) starts smiting people?” whispered Amenadiel.

            “Cheer because it’s Michael?” suggested Lucifer.

            “Lucifer!” said Chloe.

            “You need to learn a lesson,” said (Y/N).

            Michael closed his eyes, and everyone braced for some Heavenly Wrath.

            (Y/N) instead undid the necklace holding the Flaming Sword together. The fire went out. (Y/N) put their hand on Michael’s shoulder. “You need to learn humility and humanity.”

            “Wha—Ah!” Michael grimaced as his wings furled back into his back. He moved his shoulders. Nothing happened. “What did you do?!”

            “I just cut off a part of your angelic nature,” said (Y/N) calmly. They looked at everyone. “I think…there’s been enough suffering. Enough death. We don’t need more.” They looked at Michael. “And as much as I don’t like you, I’m giving you a second chance. My dad made a life here. Amenadiel made a life. If you can learn to appreciate others and respect them as individuals, you’ll be a true angel. You’ll earn your wings back.” They looked intently at Michael. “Once you act like an angel, you can have all the abilities of one.”

            (Y/N) turned and walked away back to their friends. “Are you all alright?”

            “Uh, yeah,” said Em, looking at (Y/N). “You’re asking us that?”

            “Yeah. You guys are my family,” said (Y/N) as if it was the easiest thing in the world.

            “And you’re alright?” said Lucifer worriedly. What did holding God’s power mean for someone? What if it hurt them?

            “I am,” said (Y/N).

            Lucifer relaxed. “Good.”

            “(Y/N),” said Amenadiel.

            “Yeah?” said (Y/N).

            “I think you need to…say something,” said Amenadiel.

            “Huh?”

            “To the angels.” Amenadiel gestured to the crowd watching (Y/N). “You’re…God.”

            “I’d prefer Deity since I’ve met God,” said (Y/N).

            “This is so weird,” said Chloe.

            “You’re telling me?” said (Y/N).

            “(Y/N), please?” said Amenadiel.

            “I already yelled at them for fighting,” said (Y/N).

            “Just appease them,” said Lucifer. He nudged them. “You can even yell a little more.”

            “…Fine.” (Y/N) turned around to face the group of angels. “Uh, hi. I’m your new Deity.” They waved awkwardly. They looked at Lucifer. He nodded encouragingly. “I know you must all be confused. I am, too. Frankly, I didn’t ask for this. But it’s happened.” They cleared their throat. “So we all have to live with it. I plan to continue living how I want. I think you should, too. Your father and mother left with the wish that you would all move on and find new lives. You’re angels of the Silver City, yes. But you’re also individuals. You have free will. I think…I think that if Amenadiel, Lucifer, and Michael are any indication, you all need a chance to figure out who you are, to find the good and the bad parts of you and learn to live with them. I’m not here to rule you. I’m here to nudge the world in a better direction.” They smiled. “I’m here to be a Deity who loves people. And that includes you all, every part.” (Y/N) waved. “So go on, shoo, go on an adventure, try something new, meet some people who aren’t your family. God—I—know you need it.”

            (Y/N) turned back to their friends and family. “So?”

            “It was amazing, Birdie,” said Em.

            “I’m going to like this Deity,” said Olive. The rest of their friends nodded excitedly.

            “You were perfect, (Y/N),” said Lucifer, hugging (Y/N). He smiled. “I’m so proud of you.”

            (Y/N) smiled tiredly and leaned on Lucifer. “Can we go home, Dad?”

            “Of course.” Lucifer kissed their forehead. “I love you.”

            “I love you, too, Dad.”

Taglist:

@sammyscreencaps-13

@grippleback-galaxy-galaxy

@scarlettqueen190

@ziro-the-null-god

@sammy-13

@zeros-rot

@ceridwyn3

@technikerin23

@poetoflawed

@slytherinroyalty16

@ilse235

@theurbannoodle

@lookitseddie

@amberforest08

@snowy-violet

[beastsovrevelation]

I was looking through my notes for Good Omens fanfiction, and realized almost every damn story includes Crowley having a baby.

There's the one where Heaven and Hell decide to use an angel baby carried by a demon as a diplomatic tool, leading into Crowley being protected by Michael, and them falling in love.

There's the one where she leaves her baby with Anathema and disappears, which triggers all the following events - from the search, to Aziraphale's trial, and everything else.

There's the one where she has to supply the new Antichrist, which leads to her and Lucifer falling in love, and her being crowned the Queen of Hell. (Well, this one is really two stories set in different timelines, in the second one the "baby" is like 27)

In the one inspired by a dream, she does have a baby eventually, but that's far from the worst thing that happens to her. Gabriel's treatment of her after is... How the Hell will I write this damn thing if I can't even think about it.

There's no baby in the one where she gets tortured with diluted holy water.

I see I have no storyline with male Crowley just yet... Fine, that's not true. I do have some thoughts for Crowley x Fem!Lucifer... It could include a new Antichrist, too. And, Crowley wouldn't be the pregnant one for once. But, dealing with pregnant Lucifer would probably be even scarier.

[curiouspupsicle]

Good Omens is a Transformative Work

It has been since the very beginning.

NG (fuck NG) thought of a book plot where a demon finds himself in The Omen movie. But he screws up the baby switch. And the Antichrist grew up as a character in a Richmal Crompton novel. He didn't know what to do with it next. TP offered to buy the story. He changed the demon into a demon and an angel defying their bosses on the earth they both loved. He added his smart whimsy and gave the story a moral core far beyond a silly spoof. When the story was written, queer kids saw themselves in the angel and demon based on the subtext. Because they lived in subtext. Gender fluid and trans readers created stories about an angel and demon for whom gender was a choice depending on how or whether they decided to make an effort. The strangeness of fitting into a planet dominated by beings the angel and demon differed from spoke to neurodivergent readers.

Religious readers found healing after years of struggling to make sense of doctrine divorced from morality. Some ace and aro readers saw the deep and meaningful relationship beyond romance between a pair together over 6000 years. And tons of horny people from all walks of life poured their hearts into smut that made the most of beings whose bodies allowed for a range of sexual practice that would never be realistic for humans.

People who felt rejected or unloved because they were "too much" or "too little", took solace from an angel who didn't mind the gruffness of the demon who couldn't bear to be cruel. And the demon who liked the angel being a little bit of a bastard. If an angel and demon could care for and accept each other for themselves, perhaps it could happen for them too? This is why the Good Omens fandom is so special. Transformation has been baked into his story from the very beginning. Biblical fan fiction, a collaborative story by two authors, a tv show/movie brought to life by a team of actors, designers, writers... And now also entire worlds of fan fiction and art. Good Omens continues to transform itself and the people who love it. And it will always be ours as we continue to transform it for generations to come.