#dem the little demon

[inkedberries]

day 1 of oc-tober!! prompt: introduction

prompts taken from here!!

[nectaric]

@seaprofound asked: renee, would your gods rather eat a full-course meal cooked by zeus—or get in a car that has po behind the wheel? :3 ( SADISTIC CHOICE TIME )

anyone who has only watched zeus cook is picking po. anyone who has only been in the car with po is picking zeus' cooking. anyone who has endured both is choosing to throw themselves into tartarus instead.

team po: hermes, hades, probably hera, ares, artemis

team zeus: athena (barely.. just barely), demeter, heph...

[seonghwaddict]

★ DIVINE RUINATION. [ 001 ] one of them.

in which an angel falls right into the care of eight demons. and as caring they have been, things may not be as they seem…

demons!ot8!ateez x fem!fallen angel!reader. genre. fluff, angst, smut, demon au. warnings. polyamory, blood, violence, gore, alcohol consumption, manipulation, swearing, eventual smut. rating. mature.

chapter warnings. injury description (scarring, scratches), petnames (sweetheart, my dear). wc. 2.7k.

lilo’s notes. taglist is open! CHAPTER ONE RAHHHHHH as always, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated~ i'd love to hear your thoughts!! this chapter is kinda dry tbh but it's just an introduction for what's going on.

main masterlist.

your body hurts as you wake up almost a week after falling into hell.

it’s an unfamiliar feeling, never having been in pain before. but before you dwell on the thought, you notice i’m not anywhere familiar. it takes your eyes a little while to adjust to the low candlelight, realising you’re in a bedroom, your head laying against a foreign pillow as you stare up at the ceiling, the drapes of the bedposts dark and partially hiding the rest of the room out of the corner of your eyes.

you lift your head slightly, looking down as the blanket falls to the juncture of your hips, noticing you’re still in your typical white dress, hair brushing against your shoulders. you look up, your head turning as you glance around the room, freezing in place as you notice the figure of a man standing by one of the tall windows, facing away.

seonghwa had been standing in front of the window of the room you were in for a few hours now, thinking of how he would deal with you, his eyes slowly wandering to your sleeping form every so often to make sure you were still alive.

he saw your eyes slowly flutter open in the corner of his eye and turned around fully to look at you, watching as you looked around the room before noticing him. slowly walking over to the bed you were on, he sits at the edge quietly, looking down at you, studying your features.

you, however, scoot further back into the bed as he comes closer, your eyes wide and fearful as they track him, his presence looming over you overwhelmingly and making it hard to breathe for a while. your fingers curl into the edge of the duvet in your lap as he takes a seat, steeling your nerves as you try not to show how afraid you are. but he only watches as you seek comfort in the blanket, watching your fingers tighten around it, his eyes scanning your face, taking in every subtle expression you make.

seonghwa remains sitting quietly at the edge of the bed, his gaze fixed on you. it’s only after a few moments of silence that he speaks, his voice low and calm.

"calm down. i'm not going to harm you."

you still don't relax at his words, your voice quivering as you stutter out the first words the come to mind, “w-where am i? w-who are you?”

he notices that your body remains tense even when he assures you he won't harm you, making a frown tug at his plump lips. your voice quivers as you speak, filled with unease, but he maintains his neutral expression, trying to seem as non-threatening as possible as he replies to your questions. "you’re in hell. and i’m seonghwa., the oldest of the eight demon princes in this domain."

your eyebrows furrow. this can't be. you’re an angel, you’re pure and perfect and belong anywhere but hell. your mind scrambles to remember what happened before you seemingly passed out and ended up here, but it turns up empty, only smudged images of memories you can barely piece together flashing through your mind. the dem– seonghwa's words register. your heart drops and thumps anxiously at the thought of being here all alone with demons that could tear you apart if they wanted–which they probably did. “n-no… that can’t be. i’m an angel, th-there’s no way i’m in hell.”

seonghwa observes your expressions as your eyebrows furrow in confusion, noticing the conflicting emotions that are crossing your mind, his voice remaining calm. "you must’ve been banished from the heavens. dropped straight into hell."

“what...” something shatters in you as he says that, your face falling from fear to something more broken. you shift your gaze away from him, trying to come to terms with what he said. he could be lying, you remind yourself, but the empty feeling on your back, the feeling of not carrying your heavy wings, says otherwise. one of your hands shift from the blanket to touch your back, feeling around for the comforting white feathers, but only feeling brushes of the soft material of the dress and slivers of skin. you practically break down, choking back a sob as your hand returns to the blanket, quivering almost as much as your lips, “b-but i don't get it... i was always good, i-i always did everything right a-a-and now i'm here, this doesn’t make any sense.”

he watches every shift in your emotions, shown clearly on your face, as you struggle to come to terms with his words. still, he sits quietly at the edge of the bed, letting you process the news he just gave you. he can see the confusion and heartache in your eyes, the disbelief and the pain of being torn away from your home. after a minute, he speaks again, his voice soft but firm, his eyes fixed on yours.

"you may not understand it now, but you are here now. in the underworld, hell, whatever you want to call it. so, you were banished from the heavens for a reason."

you glance at him, the tears threatening to spill from your eyes making his handsome features look a little distorted. you sniffle, muttering, “y-you're pretty terrible at comforting.”

seonghwa lets out a small chuckle at your comment, the corner of his lips curling up just a little as he shakes his head slightly, letting out a small sigh. “you're in a place far beyond what you're used to. i'm a demon. we're not exactly known for being comforting, sweetheart."

intentionally ignoring the sudden nickname, you look up at him after a few more long seconds, “you're a prince, right? you and your... brothers?”

he watches as you take a bit to come to your senses, your expression hardening slightly as you look up at him, pushing back your tears. if he notes the slight pause when he calls you sweetheart, he doesn’t mention it, only nodding slowly. "yes, correct. we rule the eight circles of hell together."

“then, c-can't you send me back? you must have… some kind of authority or power…” you ask, sounding just a little hopeful, tilting your head curiously. your grip on the blanket loosens and you lift your hands to rub away the tears caught on your cheekbones with the heel of your palm.

seonghwa leans back slightly on the edge of the bed, resting his back against the bedpost to face you better, his eyes never leaving yours.

he considers your question before responding, the frown returning. "no, i can't send you back. the heavens have banished you, meaning you’re no longer one of them. there really is nothing i can do."

you’re no longer one of them.

the words echo in your head, visibly deflating at the harsh truth. you look around the room, trying to distract yourself. it's neat, a dark and classical style. the drapes of the bed match the duvet, the bedposts carved into intricate designs. there are a few candelabra placed around the room, sat on top of shelves and and the bedside table, giving the room a soft warm glow. you focus on the details—grounding yourself in the feeling of the blanket under your fingertips, the mildly sweet smell wafting through the air, the rustle of fabric as he shifts to look at me. “whose room is this?”

noticing the change in your demeanor as his words sink in and the truth of your situation settles in, he watches you kook around the room, your gaze shifting from one corner to another as you take in your surroundings.

"this room belongs to me. i didn't have you stay in any of the guest rooms as i needed to keep an eye on you. besides, i thought you might be more comfortable in here than in a plain, boring bedroom."

you glance at him, trying to think of what else to say. you’ve always been uncomfortable in long silences, despite your usually quiet nature. “i'm sorry for, um, intruding…”

his eyes are drawn to the slight fidgeting of your fingers, your digits twitching as you pinch the edges of the duvet, the fabric wrinkling on the sides. your voice soft and timid, he can’t help but shake his head lightly, his gaze still focused on you. "it’s quite alright, sweetheart. you’re not intruding—you had no control over this."

the gentleness in his tone surprises you, momentarily making you go silent again as you return to shifting your gaze around the room, easing your grip on the duvet.

“so you all live in this... house?”

the surprise in your expression as he speaks to you gently doesn’t go unnoticed by him, deciding to look out the window as you continue glancing around the room.

"yes, we all live in this manor together. all eight of us."

“so, i'm in a house with eight demons. great.” you mutter under your breath, trying to think of how you would survive this without being torn apart and eaten for lunch.

he chuckles softly at your words, hearing them despite how quiet your tried to be. amused by your comment, he responds with his laced with a hint of playful menace. "don’t worry, sweetheart. we may be demons, but we don't eat our guests. usually."

you stare at him as he responds to your muttered comment, failing to notice the playfulness in his voice and shrinking back a little, apprehensive. you open your mouth to respond, but your stomach makes an odd growling noise, making you look down at it, brows furrowed. it's never done that before, you’ve never felt an empty feeling in your stomach like that

hearing the growling noise from your stomach, seonghwa’s eyebrows raising slightly in surprise. "are you hungry, sweetheart? when was the last time you ate?"

you blink, crossing your arms over your stomach, trying to soothe the uncomfortable emptiness, “there’s food, you know… up there…”

he listens as you speak, nodding slowly in understanding.

"right, i nearly forgot about that. angels don't need food, do they?"

you shake your head, not missing the slightly bitter tone of his previously gentle voice. “we- they don't.”

it’s nothing personal, but he can't help but feel mildly resentful, his sentiments towards angels clear in his tone. “angels are nothing like demons. they're pure, perfect, untouched by the chaos and darkness of hell…” he takes a deep breath, reminding himself of his orders to keep you safe. he continues, his voice still somewhat cold, but less bitter than before. "so... i guess you're not used to being hungry, huh? i’ll ask wooyoung to bring you something to eat."

“wooyoung..?” you question, tilting your head and watching as he stands up from the edge of the bed, the mattress straightening once again as he stands up fully.

he thinks it’s a little cute, the way you tilt your head with a question in your eyes as you repeat wooyoung’s name. seonghwa takes a few steps away from the bed, turning back to look at you as he responds with a slight smile on his lips, "wooyoung is one of my brothers, one of the princes. he usually takes care of food and similar matter, though i suppose he’ll show up with san as well."

you hum, nodding slightly at the little piece of information he feeds you, eyes following him as he walks away. part of you doesn't want him to go, weirdly calmed by his presence despite his species. “so, as the oldest, are you in charge here?”

something about the way you look at him, full of curiosity and seeking answers, makes a soft sense of power flow through him. you’re a helpless little angel in a den of demons, warmth shifting in his usually cold chest at the thought of caring for you.

he gives you a small smile at your inquiry, his head tilting to the side as he responds, "well, no, not really. i do have most of the authority here, you could say."

“your name was never mentioned up there,” you tilt your head the same way as his, subconsciously mirroring his actions, “it was hong... hong-something, i don't remember. is he in charge?”

seonghwa smiles at your subconscious action, finding it oddly endearing; how you seem to copy his movements like a child copying their parent. the thought makes that warmth return to his chest.

"ah, yes, i know. that would be hongjoong, my dear. he’s more or less our unofficial leader, though we do rule all together. still, my authority predates even his."

“so he’s one of your brothers?” you ask.

he can't help but notice the genuine curiosity in your voice, a flicker of surprise passing through his eyes as you continue to ask him questions. he’s aware the other princes, some less than others, might not be as gentle as him, so is it really so bad if he’s willing to answer all your burning questions?

he nods, his expression softening as he responds, his voice still calm. "yes, he’s a couple decades younger than me."

you hum, nodding along as you watch him stand at the doorway. “how come you're not the leader then? since you’re older.”

leaning against the doorway, his body resting against the dark oak frame, seonghwa smiles at your question, his eyes fixated on you. he takes a moment before responding, contemplating how best to explain.

“leadership isn't just about age or seniority. hongjoong has the authority, and the power. i may be the oldest, but i don't want the throne to myself. i’m content with my current position."

“i see.” you nod, falling into silence as you take in all the information, not really having anything else to say.

seonghwa observes you and your silence, a thoughtful look on his face. he can practically see the cogs turning in your mind, the processing of all the information he's given you. your sense slight unease also hangs heavy in the air, but he tells himself you’ll wake up to him and his brothers fairly soon based on how you’ve been responding to him thus far.

he speaks up, trying to ease the tension, his voice soft, motioning towards the door with a nod of his head. "i’m going to go tell wooyoung to bring you some food. stay in here, please."

nodding silently, you watch as he leaves and shuts the door behind him. the click of the handle echoes lightly through the room and you wait, listening to his footsteps fade away before getting out of the bed, the muscles of your limbs and back a little sore.

the long silk of your dress's skirt drags over the wooden floor panels as you walk around the room, looking around as you wait for this wooyoung that was mentioned to come along with food.

pausing, you stop at a mirror, leaned against a wall and framed in gold, looking at yourself in the reflection. the dress was the same, the white silk and flowing tulle draping over your body and the ends pooling on the floor, obscuring your ruffled white socks; surprisingly clean considering you fell all the way here. you turn, looking over your shoulder at your back, you breath hitching as you nearly fall to your knees in despair.

on each shoulder blade, where your beautiful feathered wings once were—the wings that carried you so effortlessly, a reliable and comforting weight on your back—was now occupied by two scars the size of the base of your wings. there seems to be some kind of irritation, patches of pinks and reds on and around the wounds, a few scratches on your shoulders and upper arms.

you’re no longer one of them.

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　DIVINE RUINATION　©　seonghwaddict, 2024

tags

networks. @cromernet @cultofdionysusnet @wonderlandnet @atzhouse @pirateeznet

permanent taglist. @ad0rechuu @sankatchu @mlink64 @yeosangsbouncytits @seonghwasbbgirl

@likexaxdaydream @dreamingofyeo @yalyallic @yunhoswrldddd

@coffee-addict-kitten @thunderous-wolf @chngbnwf @okdudeiime @jjoongstar

series taglist. @woojirang @ja3hwa @woohwababes @notevenheretbh1 @demonlineslut

@yoonshiiu @adorawritesalot @holytidalwavechees3cake @10nantscompanion @wolfgurl2600-blog

@sanhwalvr @lol-imtrash2000 @mingyusloverrr @chuckychangmin @hwallazia

@yunhowooyo @iyeeeverydee @bluebirdinthesky @vampwritesstuff @shadowvampiress

@dassmyname @cowboydk @klllerwaifu

[cryptidghostgirl]

Alastor x Reader Master List

My Alastor list is getting crazy long so I am giving it it's own post just so my big Hazbin Hotel Master List doesn't get too confusing.

Other Master Lists:

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List 

Click here and leave a comment if you want to be added to any taglists or send me an ask about it.

List of Things I Won't Write

Series are marked in purple

Requests are marked in pink

Suggestive are marked in orange

NSFW are marked in red

Make You Wish Master List -> Y/n has known Alastor since she first ended up in Hell. When he disappeared? She thought her life was over. Seven years have passed since then and slowly but surely, the 1950s housewife turned murderer has made a life for herself, full of good decisions and some bad ones. What will happen when Alastor turns back up again, sending the world as she has made it into chaos once again?

What Can I Do For You (Alastor x Reader) → What if the deal Alastor made that is controlling his power was with Y/n?

Understand (Dark!Alastor x Exorcist!Reader) → Y/n has been using the exterminations as a way to try and search for the soul of her earthly husband for years. What happens when she actually succeeds in finding him?

→ Caged Bird (Dark!Alastor x Exorcist!Reader) -> Reader wakes up in Alastor's room at the Hotel after the events of Understand.

Wrath (Alastor x Overlord!Spouse!Reader) → Y/n’s anger in finding that after seven years, their husband has returned to Pentagram City and decided not to tell them.

Unrequited (Alastor x Reader) → It is too late for him to change things now. It doesn't matter what else has happened, that he's gotten to know her, seen her light. Some broken things can never be fixed. 'You came' 'you called' but make it sad.

→ Unrequited Pt. 2 -> Reader steps in when Alastor is attacking Husk.

→ Unrequited Pt. 3 -> Alastor refuses to let Y/n be present for the battle against Heaven and will do whatever it takes to keep her safe, even if she hates him for it.

Fuel and the Fire (Alastor x Wife!Partner-in-Crime!Reader) → Alastor and Y/n have a deal with Lilith where until a soul is redeemed at Charlie’s hotel, Y/n is under her control. Alastor will do whatever it takes to get his wife back, but that doesn’t mean he won't get a little sad a lonely along the way.

Loving You (Alastor x Gn!Reader) → Valentine's day special :) The story of how Alastor and Y/n realized they had feelings for one another.

Sweet (Alastor x Chubby!Reader) → Hurt//comfort. A random demon insults the reader and Alastor comes to comfort her, later dealing with the demon in a typically Alastor way of handling such a crime.

Cover Up (Human!Alastor x Human!Reader) → Fake dating trope. Y/n and Alastor met when they tried to kill one another, how could they not end up at least a little bit in love?

-> Cover Up pt. 2

→ Cover Up pt. 3

Till Death Do Us Part (Alastor x Mad Scientist!Reader) → Y/n just wants to watch the world burn. Being married was a boon at first but later, rather inconvenient. When she died, she did everything she could to avoid her husband and continue her work but fate had other plans.

→ Till Death Do Us Part pt. 2

→ Till Death do us Part pt. 3

Prepare for Battle (Platonic!Alastor x Platonic!Cat Demon!Reader) → Alastor and Y/n have been engaged in a prank battle for decades. What happens when just a few days after Alastor reappears in the Pride ring, Y/n joins him at the Hazbin Hotel?

Rhapsody Master List → Gn!Reader. Alastor and Y/n have been taking down the overlords of Hell together for years but Y/n has had a secret and Alastor knows it. They each go their separate ways because of this but what happens when years later their paths intersect once again. Loosely inspired by Raine and Eda in The Owl House.

The Guilt (Alastor x Reader) → Y/n was the one person he never meant to kill, but Alastor didn't have a choice. Years later, much to his surprise, they run into one another in the depths of Pentagram City.

Pretty Bunny (Alastor x Chubby!Rabbit Demon!Reader) → Alastor catches Angel and Y/n getting ready for a night out and stops Y/n from going. Hurt/comfort.

I Myself am Strange and Unusual (Alastor x Living!Addams family!Reader x Lucifer) → Y/n is bored and summons some demons. 

The Love (Alastor x Reader) → Alastor is drunk and Charlie asks him if he has ever been in love.

Frostbite (Alastor x Reader) → History repeats itself in odd and uninvited ways. Life cycles on even in death.

→ Day Lilies (Alastor x Blizzard demon!Reader x Angel!OC)

Humanity's Most Favored Fantasy (Alastor x Reader) → It wasn't love. Alastor didn't feel love, not anymore. He'd lost that part of himself the day he died so it couldn't be love, could it?

→ Humanity's Most Favored Fantasy pt. 2

Mishap of Magic (Alastor x Chubby!Rabbit Demon!Reader) → Alastor’s magic backfires and Y/n is there to help. Who would have guessed that a situation such as this would give him the last push he needed to tell her how he felt? 

Destruction//Creation (Vox x Alastor's Ex!Reader x Alastor) → Alastor refuses to let the past die and Y/n would rather pretend it never existed.

The Thing (Alastor x Gn!Reader) → Alastor meets his shadow.

Masquerade (Alastor x Angel!Exorcist!Reader) → Y/n is sent to the Hazbin Hotel as a spy.

Downfall (Alastor x Chubby!Rabbit Demon!Reader) → Y/n see’s Alastor talking to Rosie and thinks she is what he wants in a woman. Little does she know, he was meeting with Rosie to ask for advice on how to talk to Y/n.

What it Means to be a Person (Alastor x Cyborg!Reader) → Y/n gave an arm and a leg to the fight against the exterminators and feels she has lost her humanity by the bionic replacements Lucifer and Charlie gifted her in return. Alastor reminds her that not all is lost, she can still dance, after all.

Spicy Sienna and Berry Naughty (Alastor x Chubby!Gn!Reader!) → Alastor likes the fact that Y/n has begun matching their lipstick to their nail polish -- loves it, in fact. What he doesn’t like is that other people have started noticing. (this one is a bit… weird so I am marking it as suggestive.)

Burn (Human!Alastor x Human!Gn!Reader) → What happens when Alastor spots his ideal target, Mimzy’s newest hired talent? What happens when they evade his capture? What happens when, slowly, he begins to realize -- Alastor doesn’t want to kill them? At least, not anymore.

Drawing Down the Moon (Alastor x Ancient Roman!Witch!Reader) → Alastor reencounters an old friend.

[cosmicstarlatte]

Flirting With Others (Obey Me!)

━━━━━━━━━━ ✦ ━━━━━━━━━━

You and your favorite demon have a "will-they won't-they" thing going on and you got tired of it. You and another demon student flirt around. Your favorite demon sees this. How does he react?

»Characters: Demon Bros, Diavolo, Barbatos

»Tags: ⚠️ (for themes) *Self indulgent tbh, Possessive, Jealousy, Yandere for some, Toxic, GN Reader, Diavolo my beloved, swooning over beel

»Note: How did I forget this in my notes!? AAAAAAA♡♡♡

Lucifer:

He was on the way to his student office when he saw you two

Why are you smiling at them like that?

His eyes widened when he saw the other demon lightly touch your shoulder

He's not irritated, nope not at all

He takes it out on everyone for the rest of the day

Barely speaks to you for days

Why would you have eyes for someone else when he's more than available?

Saw you with that lowly demon again in the hallway and he just wasn't having it anymore

He called you to him

"We are going on a date tonight at 7. Be ready. Don't make me wait."

You seemed confused but very excited

He was too and just smirked at the angry demon behind you

Mammon:

Was waiting outside for you to go home together and he saw you from the distance with the demon

What's the human doing blushing like that?

Not one to ignore situations like that

Gets closer to investigate

Did...did that demon just touch their arm?

Seriously, why are you acting all happy and giggly with them?

He can't bare to watch...it....it kind of hurts

Before he knows it he's getting in between you two

"What? You wanna be food or somethin'? C'mon." He growls and drags you away angrily

The other demon tried to protest but Mammon slid into demon form in an instant so they backed off

He held your hand all the way home but he was silent until you got to the door

"Don't ever do that again...ya hear me? You're definitely mine, got it?"

Levi:

Couldn't wait to show you his new video of funny anime clips he made

He made sure to include some of your favorites, he knew you'd love it!

He went looking for you around lunch

Who is that demon...why are they so close to you?

They're getting too cozy...

He saw the demon wrap their arm around your waist while you laughed

TOO COZY

Before he knew it he slipped into his demon form and went yelling at the two of you

He grabbed you and dragged you away yelling about normies and his time

The other demon barely had time to say anything since Levi shot them a death glare

He kept mumbling angrily and finally stopped when you two were away from everyone

"You can't do things like that! I won't allow it! You're my player two, okay!? And...and tonight is date night!"

Satan:

Went to go meet you at the library

Noticed you were talking to a demon he was seeing around more often

Decided to spy just a little...was curious is all

Went from chill to "chill 🙂" when he saw the other demon kiss your hand

He rushed over and cleared his throat and offered a not so friendly hello

The demon didn't leave...great

When you went to the restroom Satan threatened them

"If you know what's good for you, I suggest you stay away."

Don't catch his paws

The demon had heard stories about Satan's wrath so they complied

He explained to you the other demon had things to do

"Hey while I have you here...would you like to go on a date this weekend?"

Asmo:

Was on his way to class but got nosy when he saw you were with someone that wasn't his brothers

He stayed back to check if you were safe

A small flame erupted when he saw the other demon lightly brush your hair with their finger

Ha! As if he could ever be jealous of someone like them!

But they were getting all your attention...

Sauntered over and introduced himself

He suggested the other demon leave since they would never be good enough for you

You seemed embarrassed but also delighted by the turn of events

"Sorry it took long...will you go on a date with me♡?"

He can't have anyone scoop up what's his 💅

Beel:

Went to look for you after school

Saw you with another demon in an empty  classroom

Saw the demon take both your hands

You were blushing and they were giving you a flirty smile

Before Beel knew it he was in front of you both and took the other demons hands off you, who protested

Beel bared his fangs and they backed off

"Lets go." Beel pulled you away angrily and carried you home

Why did he do that?

Was nervous/upset when he thought about you meeting with that demon so he was clingy for a few days

He froze when he saw the demon hanging around you again

pout

He put two and two together and realized he was jealous

He asked you out in front of the other demon and admitted he didn't want to see you with anyone else

Belphie:

Thought he was having a nightmare when he saw you and another demon flirting in class

What do you mean this isn't a dream

Belphie.exe has stopped working

Murder.

Murder on his mind.

You will be his. You are his.

He silently made his way towards you both and faced the other demon

punch

"Dont think you can get in my way." He warned the unconscious body

You seemed upset yet moved by his action

He grabbed your hand tightly and muttered about annoyances

"You're mine, no question. Everyone will know this now."

Diavolo:

He eagerly seeked you out after classes ended and came upon a crushing sight

You were laughing in the arms of another demon in the empty hallway

He must behave professionally

He must behave

He must-

"Who's this nuisance my little lamb? 🙂"

Oh shit was he in demon form too?

Why do you make him so weak?

He was pleased to see the other demon cower and excuse themselves quickly

The black aura probably helped warn them of the danger too

He apologized for his appearance but remained truthful with you

"Forgive me, I should've said this long ago. You are mine, let me be clear about that now."

He carried you home and from then on, everyone knew you two were officially dating

Barbatos:

Was on his way to Diavolo's office when he saw you and a demon skipping class and looking friendly...

Surely not you? No, not at all-

Not a fan of this new development but chose to ignore it, he had bigger things to focus on after all

Tried to continue to Diavolo's office unnoticed

It wasn't until he saw the demon wrapping their arm around you that he really snapped and walked over

"Ahem. Excuse me to interrupt..."

Pulled you away to the nearest empty classroom

Pushed you against the wall, his gloved hand held your face gently

"I apologize for not making my intentions clear before. We are together, starting now. I did not like what I witnessed and know that won't happen again."

⬦You might also like: Manhandling Them

[dreaisgrayte]

HEHHEHEHEHEH WHATS UP MY BBG? I hope you have had a good day/night! I have this idea in my head that I'm ITCHING to get out but you can feel free to ignore❤️

Can you do what would happen and what would Sanemi, Giyu, Tanjiro, and Obani do if reader got turned into a demon during a battle?

LIKE I SAID FEEL FREE TO IGNORE!! YOU DA GOAT BBG❤️

GEHEHE I'M DOING SO GREAT! 🫶🫶I HOPE YOU'RE DOING EVEN BETTER THOUGH 😡🥹 It was raining here all day and I was a worrisome parent and got soaked going to check on my kitties🥰🥰. (also why would I ignore such an angsty request MWAHAHA😈)

Includes: Sanemi Shinazugawa, Giyu Tomioka, Tanjiro Kamado, and Obanai Iguro CW: pretty much reader dies in all scenarios, but... yeah no my heart hurt writing these so there's no hope for any of us. Death, angst, sadness.

Sanemi Shinazugawa

The demon’s claws slice through you, tearing your skin apart. You fall to the ground, crumpled and bleeding

“San-Sanemi,” You choke out, the life draining from your beautiful eyes.

A vengeful scream erupts from his throat, burning his very vocal cords as he rushes the creature

Its head falls to the ground with a gruesome thump, Sanemi dropping to his knees next to your corpse. “YN...I’m so-”

Your eyes, they’re open and your pupils pull into slits. His next breath catches in his throat. “Sorry,” He breathes, his eyes stinging with hot tears

He picks up his nichirin blade, using it to help him into a standing position. Sanemi’s choked sobs echo through the forest valley. The glint of fresh sunlight reflecting off of his blade as he plunges the tip into your heart. The sun is cresting over the mountains in a new dawn.

Your garbled noises nearly drive him to the brink of whisking you off to a shadowy haven, but you wouldn’t want to live out your life being the very thing you fought so hard against. 

As the ashen belongings of your body blow past him he feels like he’s just stabbed himself through the heart.

“Sorry…so sorry.” He cries, but the sunlight dries his tears. 

Giyu Tomioka

He was by your side one second then cornered off by a second demon. He wants to remain close to you and protect you, but as he lands the final blow to the demon in front of him he catches the tail end of the demon lifting you by your throat. 

His blood runs cool, the demon’s features twisting in a cruel sneer as it makes you lick up the blood from his wounds. 

Too late, too late, too late

Just like with Sabito, Giyu was too late to save you. His head spins, running through possibilities to somehow not fuck up again

Tanjiro and Nezeko were a special case, who’s to say Giyu would break through to you? And when he didn’t? Would his heart finally go numb? The risk was too great.

The demon has dropped you and ran off, leaving you panting on the ground. You touch your throat, hacking up the blood it tried to feed you. A glimmer of hope sprouts in Giyu’s chest. Maybe you had saved yourself? You meet his gaze, tears rolling down your cheeks.

“Giyu,” you smile, the one he’d grown accustomed to seeing every morning when you greeted him. “Giyu, I need you to be strong,” you start, but he can’t hear you. He doesn’t want to.

“No, I’m not strong,” His voice is trembling. His body aches with the knowledge of what you’re about to request of him. He couldn’t do it. You meant too much to him and he was a selfish man. When everyone else ignores him you see through his suffering to the little boy underneath, scared of being seen for the fraud he was. 

There’s that smile again. “Giyu. You’re a Hashira, you’re more than strong – you’re kind. You know what you have to do. Please, before it’s too late.”

Giyu’s body feels limp as tears mix with his sweat. He was too weak to save Sabito, but he could still save you. He yells into the night, a pained scream that rustles the birds from their branches.

Your head thumps to the side, fanning into dust as he sinks to his knees, sobbing over your remains. Turns out – he wasn’t numb after all. 

Tanjiro Kamado

You’re bloody, a demon standing over you, it’s foul stench dripping round droplets onto your wound

“Let’s see if you have the heart to kill one of your own, slayer.”

Tanjiro had been through this before, with his younger sister Nezeko and things were turning out alright with her.

Would his bond be strong enough to snap you out of the demonic craze? You had acted like an older sibling to him, watching over his progress and always cheering him on. Often he thought the gods had blessed him with you so he would have someone to look after him when he had no one. 

“YN!” He screams, the demon slipping away into the night. “YN talk to me. If you can still talk that means there’s still time.” But the veins on your face bubble and contort your expression to one of hatred.

Tanjiro falls back on his hands, heart loudly echoing in his ear. “YN, please… it’s me…your little brother.” But it’s far too late to work on your once human heart. As you rise to your feet Tanjiro stumbles to his as well

His katana is shaking in his grip. You were a demon, but also his friend. He can’t see through his blurry vision. 

“Pathetic,” you spit, then before Tanjiro can will his heart to do what he knew he couldn’t, you spill into the shadows

His vow to cut the head from Muzan Kibutsuji’s body grew a thousandfold that night

Obanai Iguro

You had been on this mission for weeks now, fighting side by side. Obanai had grown fond of you.

That was until a demon stole you away, reminding him that fondness sprouted weaknesses. However, he tracks you down regardless.

The demon had set up in a cave, the dawn making this rescue mission easier, but as he steadily slides into the heart of the cave he finds you’ve been tied up, dried green blood on your lips

“Fuck,” Obanai hisses into the darkness, searching around for the creature that did this to you

“It’s gone Obanai…” You drawl, your voice raspy and strained. He winces at the state of you.

He rushes to untie you, hoping it’s not too late and the insect Hashira can work some miracle cure on you. If Obanai was fond of you he couldn’t even imagine how the corp members felt about you. 

It had been a while of your fighting off the urge to turn, there had to be hope for you. If only he could get you back to headquarters fast enough…

As if reading his mind you shake your head solemnly. “Please, let me see the sunrise one last time,” you croak, gaze drifting to the sunlight filtering in from the cave’s entrance. 

Obanai squeezes his eyes shut, the electric buzz of his heart making it hard to fulfill your request. He was stagnant, breath quickening as you pleaded with him.

He offers you his hand, willing his chest to return to steel. He leads you to the outside world and your grip tightens as you step into the sun. Obanai’s body aches with unrelenting sorrow. If only he’d kept a better eye on you.

Soon enough, a faint ‘thank you’ blows past him on the wind, and he rushes away from the spot, not willing to look at what he had so carelessly taken for granted. 

[jhdanes]

Mini-comic: welcome to night vale ep 1 dem demons be bitches! Loved this podcast since i was little, the first lgbt horror themed show i heard and still to this day i love it. Here you have old woman josie and the anggies erica and cloude. #minicomic #comic #webcomic #fancomic #welcomtonightvale

[unusualtfs]

Marvelous Corruption: Captain America

heads up, this story contains lib to con tf as its main focus, so you might want to skip this one if that's not your thing. as a disclaimer, this story is in no way intended as a glorification or endorsement of conservatism or the republican party! that being said, i hope you enjoy the ride...

Crazed cultists weren’t the types of enemies the Avengers typically fought, Steve Rogers mused as he battled his way through waves of hooded henchmen, but he supposed there was a first time for everything. Apparently this particular cult was worryingly close to summoning an actual demon, so it fell on Captain America to put an end to their plans. Not just Captain America, too — Iron Man, the Hulk, and Thor himself were there as well, racing to the center of the complex to stop the ritual before it was too late.

Sometimes Steve missed the relative simplicity of his original time. Sure, the 21st century had smartphones and polio vaccines, but it also had alien invasions and, apparently, demon summonings. But he didn’t let those thoughts distract him as he threw his shield out in front of him, clearing the path forward.

Eventually, the four superheroes reached the central chamber, where numerous cultists chanted in front of a glowing red pentagram.

“Hey Cap, look at that — a star inside a circle. I think these guys are trying to steal your style,” Tony quipped before leaping into battle, the rest of them following suit.

Steve had thought the battle was going well, but just before he slammed his shield into the last cultist standing, the circle on the floor flared with blinding light, forcing the Avengers to avert their eyes. When they were able to look again, they were faced with the sight of a muscular man with ruby-red skin and hair vaguely shaped like devil horns. Steve’s first thought was that the hair was a little on the nose. His second was that they had failed to stop the ritual.

“Mephisto,” Thor growled. Evidently, the Norse god recognized this demon. Still, he made no move against him, instead idly swinging his hammer in his hand — perhaps he was waiting to see what Mephisto would do.

“Indeed, it is I,” Mephisto said with a flourish. “And you foolish Avengers have fallen right into my trap!”

Steve tensed, ready to leap back into action, but the demon just continued standing there.

“Uh, is anyone else not seeing the trap?” Iron Man said. “Because gonna be honest, I’m not feeling too trapped right now.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Steve saw Thor slightly shaking his head. The four heroes stood there, wary of what the demon was planning, but it wasn’t long before the Hulk apparently had enough. With a mighty roar, he charged at Mephisto, aiming a green fist directly at his red face.

Moments before impact, Mephisto did something, and Hulk’s clenched fist stopped inches away from its target, surrounded by a faint crimson aura. Steve moved to assist his teammate, but found to his chagrin that he too was frozen in place — as were Iron Man and Thor. He struggled and strained, but it was no use. Despite the super strength granted to him by the serum, he was powerless against the demon’s occult magic.

“My, such anger! Such violence!” Mephisto taunted. “For all that you claim to fight for good, there is evil in your hearts, Avengers. Such beautiful darkness…”

Fear slowly crept into the back of Steve’s mind. Whatever this guy’s deal was, he might be too much for the four of them to handle, he realized.

Mephisto continued his monologue. “Why not embrace the dark? If you let the corruption take hold, you’ll be rewarded with pleasures unimaginable. In fact…” An eerie smile spread across the demon’s face. “…By the time I’m done with you, you’ll be positively eager to cast aside all that useless morality.”

Steve couldn’t abide by this. “You’re wrong!” he growled, struggling to overcome the immobilizing enchantment. “We’ll never give in to you!”

Mephisto turned to look directly at him, and Steve felt those demonic eyes boring into him. “Ah, Steve Rogers. Captain America himself. You’ll enjoy this process the most, in the end.” Steve felt a renewed sense of foreboding as Mephisto’s sickly smile grew wider. “After all, the brighter the light… the darker the shadow. As you’re about to find out.”

Quickly, the demon muttered an incantation as he aimed a burst of crackling red energy directly at Steve. He only got a brief glimpse of the horrified faces of his friends before his surroundings shifted impossibly around him. Although he remained stuck in place, he felt himself falling faster and faster, until eventually the world around him stabilized. Suddenly released from the spell, he stumbled forward and warily examined his new surroundings.

It looked like he was in an office, and a fancy one at that. In the center was an ornate mahogany desk neatly outfitted with stationary and all manner of documents, accompanied by an expensive-looking leather chair behind it. It was flanked on both sides by large bookshelves filled with books and binders of varying thickness. The office was decorated in a way that clearly indicated the owner’s immense wealth, from the exquisite rug on the floor to the opulent paintings placed tastefully on the walls. Currently, the far side of the room was covered by velvet curtains, which Steve opened to reveal a large floor-to-ceiling window. Through it, the Capitol Building could be seen, and much further in the distance, the Washington Monument.

“I’m in Washington?” Steve muttered. “Why would he bring me here?”

It didn’t matter, he decided. He’d simply exit the office and navigate to one of the Avengers’ safehouses. Hopefully his teammates could handle themselves without him. But that plan quickly ran into a fatal error: the door was locked. It refused to budge no matter how hard Steve jiggled the doorknob, much to his consternation. What kind of door couldn’t be unlocked from the inside?

Well, it was no matter. He’d tried doing things the easy way, so it was time for the slightly less easy way. Holding his shield in front of him, he braced himself, sent a mental apology to whoever owned this office, and then charged full steam ahead at the locked door. He expected it to fly right off its hinges, no match for his super soldier strength. Instead, it stayed stubbornly put, sending waves of pain through his arm as his shield crashed futilely into it.

Befuddled, Steve looked down and clenched his fists. How had that not worked? How had he met his match in a simple door? But that was when he noticed something odd. His gloves had disappeared, fully exposing his hands. And his hands…

Steve gasped. Before his very eyes, his hands seemed to be aging, piling on years of wear and tear every second. As if he was watching a timelapse, he could only stand there in horror as a patchwork of veins and arteries became visible over newly wrinkled skin. Before he knew it, his hands had become gnarled and leathery. These weren’t the hands of a superhero in the prime of his life. These were the hands of an old man.

Shocked, he stumbled over to the window, dreading what he’d see reflected back at him. He tore off his helmet and threw it aside, not noticing that it faded into nonexistence before ever touching the ground. Sure enough, the face he was greeted with was vastly different from the one he’d woken up with. Oh, his facial features were all the same, but they were now accompanied by a wide array of forehead creases, crow’s feet, frown lines, and more. Every type of wrinkle one could imagine was now present on Steve’s face. Making matters worse, as he gazed into the window, he could see his hairline rapidly thinning and receding like an ebbing tide. Concurrently, his blond hair was being shot through with gray; soon enough, it had become entirely silver.

That was enough for Steve to start panicking. What had that demon, Mephisto, done to him? Had he extracted the super soldier serum from his body, made it so that the years spent under the ice were finally catching up to him? Would he soon be nothing but a frail old man? He felt his legs beginning to quake from the stress, so he quickly collapsed into the nearest thing he could find: that leather office chair.

As if a switch had flipped within him, Steve felt himself calming the moment he came into contact with the chair. It was a heavenly feeling, the way the soft leather hugged his ass, allowing him to sink into it the perfect amount for maximum comfort. That comfort paved the way for his next changes as an insulating layer of fat rippled into being all across his body. It started with where he was sprawled in the chair, with his back sagging under its own weight and his ass becoming as soft and cushioned as the chair itself. From there, it spread to his arms and legs, which threatened to burst out of his superhero gear due to their newfound width. His hands grew meaty with fat, larger now than they’d ever been. His torso was blessed with the presence of his newfound flabby moobs and perfectly round musclegut. Finally, the fat reached his face, framing his square jaw with stately jowls. He should have been freaking out, but strangely, he found he didn’t mind the changes. Enjoyed them, actually. His muscular figure hadn’t disappeared — he could still feel its power underneath the added weight — it had just been enhanced. He may be turning into an old man, but with his physique, no one would ever think of him as frail, he thought with no small satisfaction.

Strangely, the sense of comfort was beginning to extend beyond the chair to encompass the entire room. The office felt strangely familiar to Steve, and he wondered if he’d been in here before. It certainly felt like somewhere he’d spent a lot of time in — as if it was his base of operations, his seat of power, almost. Was that weird to think? No, he didn’t think so. The more he considered it, the more he could distinctly remember fielding calls and hunching over legal text in here.

Lost in his reminiscence, he didn’t register anything abnormal when the color began to fade from his uniform, becoming monochrome — pure white above his waist, pure black below. His clothes were changing in other ways, too. His pants weren’t designed to hug his no-longer-muscular form anymore; instead, they became black slacks that hid how his fat legs jiggled whenever he moved. They were soon joined by spotless leather dress shoes and a belt with a simple, but elegant, buckle. Meanwhile, his upper half was soon covered by a perfectly ironed white dress shirt, and that was soon covered by a woolen black suit jacket. A tie in matching black whipped into existence, wrapping itself around his collar to form a perfect Windsor knot. Finally, his shirt tucked itself into his pants, beautifully framing his round belly in the most flattering way possible. Steve couldn’t help but love the sensation of his belt buckle digging into his belly. It made him feel masculine. Powerful.

Speaking of power, something shifted within him as the strength granted to him by the serum was redirected toward a different purpose. His physical capabilities were diminished to the level of an ordinary man of his musculature — which was still far greater than average, but nothing more. But he was still just as powerful as ever. It was just that now, he used his power in subtler ways. Beating up bad guys morphed in his mind into humiliating his opponents every six years. Motivating his teammates with inspiring speeches shifted into winning the support of skeptical voters with empty promises and divisive rhetoric. People looking at him in admiration transformed into people gazing upon him in fear and envy — a change that made him swell with pride. Somehow, these new memories were so much more pleasurable than his old ones, so he embraced the new ones.

Steve didn’t even stop to question where these memories had come from, as the more he thought about it, the more he realized he already knew the answers. After all, he couldn’t have served in the Senate for this long without becoming a master of the game. Coming up on the end of his seventh full term, he had seen it all, and he had thrived in this world of smoke-filled rooms and underhanded deals that weaker men recoiled from. He had rapidly climbed the ranks, going from backbencher status to national prominence in no time at all, aided by his ruthlessness and total lack of morals. His appearance was swiftly updated to match his newfound personality, as his face became capable of exactly two expressions only: a mean, unpleasant scowl, and an arrogant smirk. Meanwhile, a golden Rolex appeared on his wrist, and he fondled it lovingly — it was just one of the many “gifts” he’d been given over the years in exchange for his full-throated support for one bill or another. 

But as much as his cutthroat personality had helped him gain power, it was ultimately his ideology that endeared him to his colleagues. After all, without their support, Steve could never have become the Republican leader in the Senate. Selfish, conservative ideals rushed into Steve’s head like a tidal wave, drowning out any previous convictions he’d held beforehand. With them came even more memories, which felt more real — and more pleasurable — than ever.

He remembered voting against expanding healthcare, because he’d used the payout from the insurance lobby to buy a second summer home in the Hamptons. He remembered voting to fund increased coal mining and fracking operations, because it would be so much better for his stock portfolio that way. He remembered railing against the immigrants and the queers on the Senate floor, frothing with rage, because they weren’t real Americans, not like him.

He remembered all this, because he was no longer Steve Rogers… He was…

Wait, no!

For a brief second, his old identity reasserted itself. He wasn’t some curmudgeonly, conservative politician; he was Captain America, dammit! Desperately, he held on tight to the very pillars that formed the core of his identity as Steve Rogers: his childhood growing up in Brooklyn, his time spent fighting HYDRA in World War II, his commitment to looking out for the little guy, his loyalty to the American ideals of liberty and justice. But all of those rang increasingly hollow to the man he was becoming.

Why would he have fond memories of Brooklyn? He was a real American, born and raised in a small Missouri town — he felt nothing but contempt for that woke shithole, he thought as his hairline receded an inch farther.

How could he have fought in World War II? That was decades too late for him, and in any case HYDRA was small potatoes next to the real threat — communism. As he mentally reaffirmed his commitment to his rancid ideologies, the wrinkles on his face deepened by another year.

Why would he look out for the little guy? Unlike the so-called “little guy,” he had worked hard to reach his station in life, and he saw no problem with doing whatever it took to maintain his place at the top of the pyramid. Freed from the burden of caring for others, his greed and ego reached new heights, causing another pound of fat to be piled onto his portly frame.

And as for liberty and justice? He scoffed and cast them aside, feeling a wave of euphoria wash over him as he did so. That wasn’t the America he believed in. No, his America was one that revolved around himself, one that allowed him to line his pockets and ascend the ranks of power while closing the door on anyone who wanted to reach those same heights. Reacting to this redefined America, the shield that had served him so well in his life as Captain America floated into the air and flung itself at him. By the time it reached him, though, it was no longer a shield, but a small metal American flag pin attached to his lapel.

But still, throughout all this, a small piece of Steve remained within the new, old man, fighting desperately to hold on against the barrage of corrupt conservatism. Despite everything, he refused to give in to the alluring pleasure that tormented him. But then a familiar voice made itself known in his head.

“See Steve Rogers, didn’t I say you’d enjoy this? Like I said, the brightest lights produce the darkest shadows,” Mephisto said. “And your shadow is dark, indeed. Don’t you think it’s time to embrace it? Embrace him?” His voice lowered to a seductive purr. “You don’t have to fight it. Tell me you want it, and it will be yours.”

Steve tried to shut the demon out of his head, but his words echoed in his mind. Combining with his memories of life as an unscrupulous politician and his immaculate clothes and his fancy office and his burly old man physique, it all coalesced into a cascade of pleasurable pressure. He tried to resist. He tried to want to resist. But…

His wealth. His power. His personality. His body. The temptation was too much for Steve to bear. “Yes!” he shouted desperately. “Yes, I want this!”

And that was all Mephisto needed to hear.

Finally, his identity as Steve Rogers detached itself fully, unable to hold on in the wake of the corruption he was experiencing and embodying. He gleefully cast his old self aside. He wasn’t Steve Rogers, not anymore. No, the old man thought triumphantly as he allowed his new personality and memories to settle into their rightful places, he was someone far superior. He was Senator Roger Stephenson.

Roger breathed deeply, satisfied, as he grounded himself in his new life. Not that he had ever experienced another one, he thought as he mentally went over his biography.

Roger had been born in 1943 — ironically on the very day his former self would have received the serum if he hadn’t been deleted from reality — and many said his outdated policies hadn’t changed much since then. Consequently, he was celebrated as a hero by the American conservative movement, and equally reviled by those on the left. His approval ratings were among the lowest in the country due to his blatant corruption, and yet it was thanks to that corruption that he always won reelection comfortably. He was well-known as a slimy, cantankerous old bastard — that combined with his aggressive jingoism had earned him the moniker of “America’s Ass” — and he was proud of it. 

On a whim, he turned in his chair and gazed out upon the cityscape outside, feeling a surge of intoxicating power wash over him. Sure, the President got all the press and the credit. But up here on Capitol Hill, Roger was the one in charge. He decided which bills passed and which ones failed before ever reaching the floor. His endorsement was widely coveted, and with his mountains of cash he could swing elections however he wanted. He had all of Congress, all of the country, wrapped around his fat, wrinkled finger.

Speaking of which, he took a glance at his schedule for the day. This afternoon alone, his office would be visited by a couple of junior lawmakers, a team of auto industry lobbyists, and even a foreign dignitary or two. All of them were coming to grovel at his feet for his support, and he would give it to them… so long as it enabled him to garner more wealth, more influence, more power. To do so was his god-given right as an American.

Roger smirked. God bless America, indeed.

[harryforvogue]

Bringing the Queen Home*

hi yes hello. this fic is about persephone being a late to returning to hades!harry, so he decides to take matters into his own hands. 6.5k words and, as always, happy reading :)

tw: mention of child passing away

***

Hecate and Hermes glance at each other as Harry stalks past them again, the look on his face murderous. The effects of his rage have been prominent from the trembling of the palace walls and the cold air shifting through the gardens. His arms are behind his back as he paces, hands in fists.

Hermes is the first one to speak. “Er, my king. Perhaps we should look into communicating with Dem–”

“Say her name and I’ll kill you.” Harry’s growl is demonic. He turns his black eyes to Hermes, daring him to say more.

Hermes (tries to) stand his ground, but he shifts back towards Hecate against the corridor wall and murmurs, “Your turn.”

Hecate doesn’t bother. She’s been around an enraged Harry too many times to interfere. Whatever plan he comes up with will be his own and then he can’t go around blaming other people for the hole he digs for himself.

“A week,” Harry’s muttering to himself. “What could have made her so upset that she’s late for a week. I understand a day. Maybe even two. But 7 entire days is ridiculous.” He runs a hand through his hair, gripping it tight at the base of his neck.

Harry paces in the dimly lit hallway outside his bedroom for a little longer. And then, suddenly, he stops. Hecate knows he has a plan from the way he lifts his head sharply, eyes returning to their normal color.

“We must go up and get her.”

Hermes groans. “You’re still technically barred from leaving the Underworld, remember?”

It’s true. Last year, he’d been visiting Persephone after a particularly terrifying dream about his father, and only wanted solace in his wife. Persephone had kept it a secret very well, and had cradled his head to his chest while waiting for him to calm down. But as he was leaving, disguised as a black snake, Helion, the traitorous bastard, had identified him and alerted Zeus. And as a result, Hermes was sent to “guard” the king of the underworld to ensure he did not break the clause in his contract that (paraphrased) stated, “Do not be stupid and leave the Underworld while your wife is gone or I shall fry you on the spot.”

Also as a punishment, Zeus placed Hades on something that the mortals had made up. “House arrest” he’d called it, looking quite pleased with himself for thinking of it.

“I’ll be invisible,” Harry says.

“It will not be enough!” Hermes groans, his head in his hands. “You put me through so much stress. If I were mortal, I sure would have one of those things. Those heart conditions. The, er. Heart…heart…”

“Heart attack,” Hecate mutters.

“Yes. Precisely!”

Harry is unfazed. “You will cover for me, and if you should refuse, I will keep you as my personal servant and messenger for the next five years.”

Hermes looks up, horrified. “Five years? You’d be that cruel?”

“Quite. Do you want to defy me?” Harry’s voice is low and challenging. 

“But your brother–”

“Will never find out. I must get my wife.” Harry prowls closer to him, power radiating off him. His eyes are growing black around the edges again. “Hermes. What is your answer?”

When Hermes is all but backed to the wall with a looming, murderous man above him, he yells, “Fine! Fine! I won’t tell!”

“Good.” Harry doesn’t look away from Hermes. “Hecate.”

“Yes, my king?”

“My chariot.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And, Hecate?”

“Yes?”

“You must stay here and look after the kingdom.” Harry finally pulls away from Hermes when the other deity starts cowering under the dark glare. “I will be going tonight.”

Harry steps back and looks at both of them pointedly. They nod back, and then Harry disappears into his room, slamming and locking the door behind him.

***

There’s nobody else capturing her attention, Harry tells himself as he removes his crown from his head. He’d dressed up well for his wife’s return, adorned in jewelry and the finest material. He turns the crown in his hands. There’s nobody more important to Persephone than he. There can’t be.

So why is she not home?

Harry pinches the bridge of his nose, falling down to his shared bed. He tosses the crown away. Could she be upset with him? So filled with rage that she doesn’t wish to see him? Was he not writing back to her well enough? Was he not telling her enough, how much he loved her? How he ached to touch her? Kiss her? Was it not enough?

Is he not enough?

Does she not wish to be his wife anymore?

His chest tightens, and Harry thinks it’s all too mortal of him to feel the physical ailments of his agony.

Persephone loves him. He knows that. He does. So why does he–?

Harry stops himself. He stands up again and fixes his clothing. He then prepares for his journey, hiding sheathed bronze weapons in his suit, tucking his invisibility cap close to him as well. It matters little of the reason for her reluctance. He will bring his wife home.

Before he leaves his chamber, Harry looks at himself in the mirror, a picture of terror. He forces his face to relax. Persephone always tells him not to be so severe. He can feel her soft fingers pull apart his eyebrows that she swears are connected. He can feel her lips on his jaw, kissing away the tension. My love, she murmurs, arms around him tight. I just want to see you smile. Please?

So then it is decided. Whatever the reason for her hesitance is, he’ll deal with it. Whether it’s a duty, or another man. He will be rational.

***

Harry is anything but rational, he finds.

Because Persephone isn’t with her mother at her palace. In fact, Demeter’s already weeping and grieving and all that fucking bullshit. The earth is cold, winds picking up as he leaves the palace.

Persephone isn’t with her mother. Persephone isn’t with him. She’s elsewhere, and now he’s angry at her. 

Now that the familiar feeling has returned, Harry wants nothing more than to quickly identify where his wife is and demand answers. So after a brief break within the trees, he stalks out of the woods then, and closes his eyes, willing himself to calm down so that he can grasp the connection between him and his wife. 

He might have felt even a flicker of something if he weren’t so angry. He opens his eyes and begins walking in the usual direction Persephone takes to return to him. Demeter has previously expressed that she doesn’t like seeing Persephone leave the way she comes because it’s “too close to home” so Persephone usually goes a town over before returning to him.

Harry’s footsteps against the earth are hard, and he catches himself caught up in his rage when the trees around him begin to shake.

What could have been so important that she refused to return home to him? 

The town over is quite far, and Harry uses the long walk to try to calm down. He doesn’t want to be raging when Persehone sees him for the first time in six months. 

By the time he reaches the town, Harry’s feeling lighter. He’s said a few mantras to himself — which Hermes told him before he left — and taken a few breaks in between miles. He’s done well, he thinks. At least by the standards of the King.

He walks on the town’s cobblestoned pathway, winding between makeshift houses and temples. At nearly every door, he stops and closes his eyes, trying to feel his wife’s presence. But everytime, he comes up short, devoid of any trace of her. He doesn’t immediately give up even though the irritation returns. Instead, he walks to each establishment, including the pubs and hotels, hoping he can feel her.

It isn’t until he’s about to leave the town and angrily trudge to the next one that he violently stops, turning his head.

There. He feels her.

He slowly turns around and scans the land. The town is busy preparing for winter, several men walking in front of him with wood on their backs, the women carrying baskets of vegetables into their homes. Some of them are bandaged, some of them limping.

But despite the excitement. Harry can feel a faint glimmer, and it tugs at his heart. He looks around. She wasn’t in the house. Not the shops. Not the pubs. She’s–

The infirmary. His eyes narrow in on the small hut-like building made of remaining bricks and wood, barely put together. His feet begin to walk him in that direction.

She can’t be hurt. She’d heal immediately if she was. 

But that reminder doesn’t make him any less worried. Suddenly, he feels stupid for being angry. Never once did he consider she could be hurt. He just assumed she’d be able to take care of herself.

It’s not a busy infirmary, though. There are a few children laying on cots with their mothers near them, but aside from that and the one healer, the room is empty.

Harry walks through it, careful not to make any sound. He hovers over the children, their pale faces flushed with fever. With a tight jaw, he holds his hand over them and reaches, removing their pain. He can’t completely heal them, but he figures anything will help. The children, barely of ages 5 or 6 he assumes, relax into their bed, eyes fluttering shut. To their mothers, it looks like they’ve fallen asleep.

He steps away and then turns back towards the room, glancing around.

The healer is dressed in all white, tall and kind. She is currently busy with helping a child enter, taking the baby of barely six months in mortal time from its father and resting it on her hip. She cradles the baby’s head to her chest and sighs softly, gently bouncing. “It’s okay,” she whispers. “You’ll be just fine.”

The mother rushes in, eyes filled with tears. “I did as you asked, Miss. Only natural milk. As you asked.”

“Yes,” the healer says softly. She brushes her fingers over the baby’s full cheek. “And you must leave the rest to me. I assure you, she will be well in a day’s time.”

When the healer turns around, Harry stops.

Persephone. Wife.

Harry immediately goes to her, but stops when she starts walking in his direction. She’s disguised herself well, the opposite of what she really looks like, but her gentle eyes remain. Wholly focused on the baby. She brings the child to the cot closest to him and lays her down gingerly, reaching for a wet cloth. The baby has miraculously fallen asleep, no doubt Persephone’s work, and she puts the cloth over her eyes.

She stands again to address the parents. The father has his arm around his wife, holding her tight as she cries against him. “She will be okay,” Persephone whispers. “I promise you.”

Some more reassurance and then Persephone steps back to let the parents sit. She goes around to the other cots, nodding when the parents thank her for her help.

And then she’s finished with her round. She stands at the back, her hands clasped in front of her, a look of determination on her face. But her eyes. Her eyes look sad.

Harry steps closer again, wary of coming into contact with her. He can’t reveal himself. Not here. He’ll have to wait until it’s dark. Or at least until a few candles have been extinguished.

So he busies himself. He too walks around and removes the pain from the children, incrementally taking away the parents’ sorrow. It goes on for several hours. He’d never known parents could feel such hurt over their children, but then again – how would he know?

And he also watches his wife flutter around. Persephone makes stew over the fire and pours it by the ladle for her patients, passing the bowls around to the children and their parents. She sits with them, whispering even more kind words. Pretends to their food.

Harry’s anger is gone. All he feels now is a tremendous amount of love for his wife. He cannot name a single other god or goddess that would do such a thing for mere mortals.

At nightfall, Persephone goes around and blows out the candles. She leaves only two and then she gathers herself, exiting the infirmary. Harry trails after her, and once she tells her replacement the updates on the children, she turns the corner and rests her back against the brick wall, staring out into the night. He sees her lips moving silently as if praying. 

His heart gives a start in his chest, the bond between them growing tight.

She’s talking to him. 

Harry approaches carefully. He removes his cap, walking in the shadows to avoid any lingering eyes from the distant town. 

Persephone sees him from the corner of her eye. She wipes her hands on the front of her dress, pulls a happy face on and then turns to him. “Good evening, sir. How can I–” She trails off when Harry steps into the dim light of the lantern perched outside. “Harry.”

“Wife,” Hades greets, eyes running over her face. He hesitates, suddenly feeling ridiculous standing so far from her with his hands tucked into his pockets. This is their reunion. He should be grabbing her. Kissing her. 

Scolding her for not sending a message.

Persephone must see it all on his barely lit face. She suddenly crumbles, her shoulders dropping. With a glance around to ensure nobody is watching, she waves a shaky hand over her face, revealing her true appearance. Harry’s heart aches at the sight of her, his hands flying out of his pockets to grab her face.

“My darling girl—”

“Harry.” Her lips tremble. 

“Yes. Yes, Kore,” he whispers, pushing her back against the wall. Her own hands grip his shirt. Every thought in his head disappears when he brings his mouth down, draping his body over hers. He kisses her hard, 6 months of sadness rushing out of him. “My love. My wife.”

Persephone’s hands trail up to his face. Then his hair where she knots her fingers in his curls. “I should have told you,” she says softly. “I know. I should have. But I couldn’t– I didn't think –” she suddenly cries and throws her arms around him, hugging him fiercely to her. “Harry. I’m so sorry. I’ve missed you so. I’m so terribly sorry.”

“Did you think I wouldn’t understand?” he whispers, cradling her head as she’d done for the baby. He feels himself crumble when her body trembles with sobs. “I would have. I would have, love.”

Persephone shakes her head. “You were angry. I felt it. The ground shook and I knew it was you. Oh, but Harry. I couldn't walk away from this. They needed me. The poor children. The mothers. The fathers. They’ve suffered so much already. My mother did it. I left and she– the storm. It ruined houses. Everyone was hurt or sick. The healers did their best but there weren’t enough of them so I–”

“Shhh.” He turns his head and kisses her hair. “It’s okay. It’s okay now. They’re doing well.”

“I lost a few. Got here too late and now they’re–”

“We’ll see to them. Once we’re home, we’ll see to them, I promise you.”

Persephone raises her head. Tears slide down her cheeks, desperation in her eyes. “We will?”

“Of course.” He wipes her face gently. “They’re your people. And you are their queen.” He presses his thumb to her lips when it looks like she’ll keep crying. “I love you, Kore. I was worried about you. And yes, I was very angry too. But I understand now.” He cups her face. “So let’s fix everyone and go back home, please. I’ve already lost a week with you and I would hate to lose more.”

Persephone sniffles and nods. She wipes her face and kisses him again, sweeter and softer this time. “Okay. Yes. I love you. I want to go home.”

Harry doesn’t let her go for some time. He kisses her until she can’t breathe, and then kisses her tear streaked face, her neck, and shoulders. Anywhere he can reach. And he holds her tight to him, making up for lost time.

“I love you,” he rasps against her cheek. “My wife.”

The only thing that breaks them apart is a sudden shriek.

They jerk apart, glancing at the infirmary and then each other. The other healer who replaced Persephone rushes out, wildly looking around. When she spots her, Persephone is already in her disguise, and Harry stands several feet away, invisible.

“What is it?” Persephone demands, running into the infirmary with the other healer. “What?”

“The babe,” the healer says miserably. “He’s gone. The one with the fever from yesterday. He’s…”

Harry follows behind them. The parents of the boy at the end of the line of cots are crying, huddling around their son. Persephone runs to them, meeting the family from the opposite side of the makeshift bed. She tends to the son, but Harry knows, and he knows that she feels it too. As the King and Queen of the Underworld, they’re too accustomed to death to not feel it.

He sees it on her face. The grief. The sudden sadness. The anger.

The other healer is trying her best. “I was only checking him. He looked flushed. I was just–”

Persephone raises a hand, quieting her. “Please.”

“I couldn't have–”

“I know. I know.”

Harry watches his wife stand and stare down at the now incomplete family. For several long seconds, she lets the family cry. And then she raises her eyes up to stare at where Harry is, piercing him with her gaze despite his invisibility.

He slowly nears, beckoned by her. Harry carefully places a hand on her shoulder and then reaches for his cap. Persephone’s eyes close, tears dripping down her face, hands tightened into fists.

Then, she opens her eyes and looks at the healer. “Thank you,” she whispers. “For your help.”

“I should have done more,” the healer tries, crying. “I should have done more, miss.”

“No,” Persephone says. “You did well. Please. Take a rest. It’ll be okay.”

“I can’t–”

“You will.” Persephone’s voice hardens slightly, though it still shakes. “Now.”

The young healer holds a hand to her mouth to stop her mouth and leaves the infirmary.

The parents before her are still crying loudly. The other children and parents are waking, but Harry cannot have that. He releases his cap and walks to each cot, waving a hand over their faces to put them back to sleep. It’s not a power he’s familiar with so it takes more energy out of him than usual, but soon, they've all returned to sleep and all is silent except for the cries.

Persephone dims the candles and then nears the parents. She kneels before them. Harry’s beside her again. She reaches out to touch their hands.

“Listen to me,” she says quietly. “You must listen to me.”

The grieving parents glance at her shakily. Harry can’t look at them for too long. Even the King can’t bear this type of suffering. 

“My baby,” the mother gasps, digging her fingernails into her skin. Her face is red and blotchy. “My-my only baby.”

Persephone looks behind her and nods. Harry removes the cap from his head, revealing himself. Two pairs of widened eyes slide over to him, horror growing on their faces. The mother shrieks, throwing a hand over her mouth, and she goes to rise out of fear, but Persephone’s honey voice keeps her still.

She reveals herself afterwards, but it only makes the parents shudder, their mouths opening to scream. Persephone shakes her head and pats their hands calmly.

“My name is Kore,” she says softly, power radiating from her. “And this is my husband, Aidoneus. It’s okay.”

Terror sprawls over the young parents’ faces. They grip each other tightly when they look at Harry. He can feel the intense spike of emotions when they do. He’s used to it, and normally he’d enjoy it, but now’s not the time.

Harry walks forward and kneels before them as well, putting his hand over his wife’s. “Your child is safe.”

A king on his knees. If Zeus were here, he’d rage. Perhaps Harry would too, if Persephone weren’t besides him leading.

“Yes,” Persephone says kindly. “Your child was a good person. And he has passed onto our realm. But we promise to treat him well. I shall ensure his happiness. He shall wait for you until you, too, are ready to come.”

Hades and Persephone give the parents time to understand. Their breaths stutter, chests blooming with ache, knuckles white, but they remain still, simply looking at the pair of them. The mother seems to have trouble breathing, the father absently rubs his wife’s back.

She is the first to recover and move. She throws herself onto the floor before Persephone and Hades, her forehead touching the hard ground. “Take me now, my King and Queen. Please. Take me now!”

The father is still frozen in his seat. Harry levels his eyes at him while Persephone tends to his wife. It’s better that way. Harry’s never been all that great at calming mortals, not even the dead ones.

“It is not your time. Not yet. And that is not our job. But when the right moment comes, you shall see him again.”

The mother continues to sob, clutching Persephone’s toga. “No. Please. I can’t bear to live without my baby. It took years to conceive him. I cannot. I cannot–”

“You’d do best to calm your wife,” Harry says to the father. “Mine only speaks the truth. You will be reunited and that is my oath to you, my humble worshipper. You must be patient. Do you not trust your King and Queen?”

“O-of course,” the father stammers, shakily reaching for his wife. He roughly draws her to his chest. “Darling. We trust them. We trust them with everything, don’t we?”

It takes some convincing to get her to start agreeing. She hides her face in her husband’s shoulder and softly weeps. “We do.”

“And I thank you for it,” Persephone says. “We must get going, but fear not. Just wait for the day you’re reunited.”

“Yes, my Queen.” The father watches Harry and Persephone rise. “We will. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you so much.”

Harry takes his wife’s hand and tugs her closer, slanting her a look. “We have no choice but to leave now,” he murmurs. With a nod of his head, the crying parents suddenly grow tired, and then they lay their heads down on the bed, falling asleep. 

Then, it’s just Harry and Persephone. She squeezes his hand and nods, looking around the room. “The rest of them should be okay. He was our sickest child.” Persephone sighs. “My mother will have to answer about this.”

“They’re mortals,” Harry reminds her gently, taking hold of her chin. “Demeter will not suffer any consequences.”

“But they become our people once dead. She should care about that, if anything.”

“My love.” He holds her face a little tightly. “We will see to it once we return home. Yes?”

Her eyes are troubled as they look around at his face. “Yes.”

“Good. Now come.” He begins to lead her out of the infirmary, slowly so that she can scan her eyes over the cots once more.

Outside, Harry takes his invisibility cap and puts it on her head. He bends down to kiss her and then transforms into a snake, dropping by her feet. Instead of slithering on the cold ground, he wraps his body against her warm leg and nestles his head on her thigh. Though she’s invisible, he knows she’s looking down at him fondly.

“Home,” Persephone whispers wistfully. “Let us go home.”

*** 

Later when they’ve settled, Hades watches Persephone thank Hecate for keeping things running while both rulers were gone. And as soon as Hecate has left, Harry crosses the throne room to her.

Persephone’s eyes widen with happiness when he wraps his arms around her and picks her up, spinning her around. 

“Harry!” she giggles.

He doesn’t put her down right away. He holds her flush against his chest and looks up at her, eyes dark. “Shall we go to our chamber, my darling beloved?”

Her eyes turn golden and she catches her lower lip between her teeth. She nods, kicking her legs behind her. Harry moves her, throwing her over his shoulder before beginning the ascent up the long stairs to their room.

“Harry!” She’s hitting his back. “Careful!”

Once the door is locked, Harry pulls her back down and tosses her onto the bed.

Persephone laughs, a beautiful fucking melody, leaning back on her palms. She takes in her devilishly handsome husband clad in his typical all black attire with a tilted gold crown resting on his brow. “You always do that. Throw me on the bed whenever I come back.”

She watches him unbutton his shirt slowly. “Oh yeah?” he murmurs. His voice is so deliciously velvet, she grows warm. 

“Even did it on our wedding night.”

Harry’s dimple shows. “What a night that was.”

“I think I still hated you.”

“And I shall be the one to let you know that I was utterly, completely…” he leans down to kiss her, voice just barely a whisper, “and pathetically in love with you.”

Persephone loops her arms around his neck. He focuses his weight on his hands. After the brief trial of the kiss, her eyes appreciatively ogle at his thick arms, and soon she’s pushing the shirt down and off the floor. Her hands make quick work of his pants.

“As you still are,” she says, blinking up at him with innocent eyes.

“As I still fucking am.”

She’s still in her toga, so it’s easy to get her out of it. Once it’s off, Harry pushes her down on her back so he can take her in. She shivers under his dark gaze. Harry removes all his clothing and then joins her on the bed. Before he touches her, she reaches for his crown, carefully removing it from his hair and setting it on the pillow beside her. She does the same with her own. 

And then she takes his hand, curiously looking at all the new rings. Harry remembers how she’d compared their hand sizes on their wedding night. How she’d stared up at him with wondrous, lust drunk eyes after tracing his long fingers. He suppresses a shiver at the reminder.

“I’ve got you some new ones too. Cut them from the finest stones,” he murmurs, holding the back of her head as he kisses her feverishly.

“You can’t keep these on,” she tells him in a small voice, her eyes lit with something he adores. “Shall I take them off?”

Harry’s mouth grows into a smirk. “Go ahead.”

Her eyes remain on him as she brings his hand closer to her mouth. She brushes a kiss on his knuckles and then slowly turns his hand to the side and bites down on the ring on his middle finger.

“Fuck me,” he breathes, growing harder.

She slides the ring off carefully and then holds it in her mouth until he places his other hand below her chin. She drops the gold into his awaiting palm.

She continues to do the same for the rest of his rings, but when she gets to his wedding band, she presses a kiss to it and then grins up at him.

“All done,” she murmurs, tongue poking out from the corner of her mouth. 

Harry surges forward and grabs her face, leans down for a breathtaking kiss. Her tongue licks into his mouth, and she grinds up against him, gasping at his hard thigh against her core.

“If I were alive,” he whispers. “That alone would have killed me.” Persephone has the audacity to smile sweetly, fluttering her lashes against the bridge of his nose. “I want to taste you,” he says, holding her face tightly between his now ringless fingers. He drops the rings onto the side table, and then lays down, getting himself comfortable between her thighs.

“Yes,” she gasps. “Yes, I want–”

Persephone’s breath hitches when he glides two fingers through her folds, hands reaching out to grab his hair.

“So wet,” he murmurs, pressing kisses to her thighs. “So fucking pretty. Is this all for me, wife? Tell me it’s all for me.”

“S’for you,” she says softly, cupping his face gently. “It’s all for you. Just… Could you–”

He slowly presses the two fingers inside of her, watching them sink in. She always takes him so well. Wary of their time apart leaving her unprepared, he takes his time opening her, tilting his fingers up and rubbing until she cries out.

“There! There. Yes,” she groans. “Oh, fuck!”

Harry grips Persephone’s left thigh, keeping her legs apart as he leans down and drags his tongue against her. She jolts again, and Harry has half a mind to raise his head and grin at her. The idea goes out the window, however, when her fingers in his hair tighten and she raises her hips to meet his mouth.

“Fuck.” She looks down at him, her eyes golden. The black sheets on their bed are rumpled, and with his wife sprawled above him Harry doesn’t know if there could be a better reunion. “It’s so unfair.”

Harry turns his head to press kisses to her soft inner thighs. “What, my sweet?”

“This,” she whispers, running her thumb over his cheek. “Having to be away from this.”

He smiles and laps her up again, crooking the fingers already inside of her. She cries out, body shuddering from the relentless thrusting of his middle and ring finger. 

“I know darling.” His words are gentle, but his grip is anything but. When he brings his mouth back to her, he tastes her like he’s starved, eyes fluttering shut and losing himself in the feeling.

His little wife whines, gripping his curls tight. Besides him, their crowns are falling to the floor where their clothes are thrown in different directions. She’s breathing hard, and despite how many times they’ve found themselves in this situation, it never gets less arousing. Exciting.

Harry’s entire body is feverish. He sucks gently on her clit which makes her quiver. His hard cock is trapped between him and the mattress, but he cares little for it right now. All he knows is his wife’s desperate whimpers and pleas.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she whispers to herself. Harry feels her tighten around his fingers. Before she can come, he pauses and raises his eyes to glance at her. There’s a thin sheet of sweat on her body. Her perfect, jaw dropping body that he plans on worshiping once the initial desperation is out of his body. 

“Harry,” she begs, eyes fluttering open. “I want you inside. Please. It’s too much— It’s not— I miss you so— I thought about it every day…”

He pulls away from her, gently removing his fingers. His lips drag up, skating over her hip bones and then up to her ribs. His mouth kisses each individual rib, and then wraps around her nipple. She gasps when his tongue glides over, her fingers twitching with more need.

“So pretty,” he murmurs, kissing up her collarbones, shoulder, and then finally her neck. His hands are on either side of her head, trapping her underneath him.

She looks up at him with wide, fucked out eyes. It’s already enough to get him to spill, and she doesn’t help when her hand reaches out to wrap about his cock, giving him slowly pumps. He releases a breathy moan and continues to kiss her neck. He sucks a spot right below her jaw.

“Please,” Persephone whispers, wrapping a leg around him. “Harry. I need it. Waited for so long. I waited–”

“You did,” Harry murmurs, leaning down to kiss her mouth bruisingly. “You waited for me.”

“For months– I waited for months. I can’t– I can’t think–”

“I know darling,” he coos. “I know. You were such a good girl waiting for me. And you deserve a reward for that.”

“I do. I deserve it.”

“Even though you made me wait for an entire week, hmm?”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, my love, I should have never done that,” she sobs.

With a quick maneuver, he has Persephone on her stomach, and he hovers over her, using his knee to pull her legs apart.

Persephone lifts her hips to meet his, burying her face into the sheets. “Yes. Fuck, yes.”

Harry leans down to kiss down her spine, occasionally biting and then relieving the pain with his tongue. With a hand under her stomach, he pulls her up, just enough so he can slot himself between her thighs.

“I want you inside of me,” she tries again. 

“Persephone,” he says warmly in her ear. “Are you asking me to fuck you?”

She groans, grabbing the satin sheets tightly. “Yes, yes.”

“Tell me then, wife.” He carefully holds her hips, lining himself up against her entrance.

Persephone trembles beneath him. “I want– I want you to–” she takes a deep breath, skin hot. “I want you to fuck me, Harry.”

He smiles. “Good. And tell me this, my sweet angel. Do you want me to fuck you hard, or should we take our time? Should I fuck you nice and slow instead?”

She’s in near tears from the anticipation. “Hard,” she says, glancing at him over her shoulder. Her eyes swim with need. “Hard. I want it hard and fast.”

Harry raises his eyebrows.

“Please!” she begs.

“Good girl,” he murmurs. He wastes no time after that, easily sliding into her. He grits his teeth at the feeling, her walls fluttering around him to get readjusted to his size. It’s one of his most favorite feelings. After six months of being deprived, her body needs to accommodate him. Needs to be reminded who fucks her so well. 

Persephone drops her head back onto the sheets, her moan muffled. Harry can feel the abrupt power surge inside of her, his own body feeling electrified when she whispers a small, “Thank you.”

He grips her hips and fucks her like he’s promised. He pulls out all the way and then sinks into her again, watching the pleasure take form on her pretty face, her lips apart as she whimpers, a tight knuckled hold on the sheets to keep herself grounded. 

“Beautiful,” he mutters along with the swears under his breath. “My beautiful queen.”

Persephone doesn’t seem to be able to say much. As if her mind has shut off, all she can manage to give him are small sounds and occasional cries, especially when he snaps his hips, driving himself into her with a pace she can’t comprehend. 

Yes. This is what he’d been missing. It’s the answer to everything. Why he feels half a man for six months a year. Why he can’t seem to breathe properly. Because of her. 

His perfect Queen. 

It makes sense. Harry needs to be intertwined with her in every way. His hands on her, her vanilla scent surrounding him, the taste of her lingering on his tongue, the sight of her thoroughly fucked underneath him, and his cock deep inside of her. 

Harry drops a hand to her clit, running small tight circles. She immediately reaches back and grabs his wrist, digging her long nails into his skin. She’ll be leaving marks, that much he knows. But he can’t find it in him to care. The longer he works her, the shakier her moans get, and the sharper her nails become.

He fucks her fast, and the pleasure leaves her with tears in her eyes.

“I love you,” she whimpers brokenly. “So much. I missed you.” He feels her tightening around him. “I’m going to come. Fuck, I can’t–”

Harry holds her tight, dropping his head to her neck. He turns and kisses her sweaty skin. “Do it. Come on, baby. Come all over me. Wanna feel it. Come on, sweet girl.”

She shatters around with him with a trembling cry of “yes, yes, yes, thank you, I love you, thank you” and he follows shortly after, her walls so tight around him he finds himself barely able to breathe. He crashes against her, crushing her under his weight as they try to catch their breaths.

Harry slowly pulls out and then wraps his arms around Persephone, only loosening when she shifts around to face him. Her glazed over golden eyes take him in, lips apart. Nobody looks at Harry like that. Only his wife.

Her breasts press against his chest, legs between his thighs. He’s so big over her, covering her view of anything that isn’t him.

Harry wipes her face clean of any tears and then kisses her for a long time, rubbing soothing patterns against her side. She nestles into his side.

“I love you,” she says quietly, reaching for his hand. She laces their fingers together. She clears her throat. “I really am sorry I didn’t come home straight away.”

Harry shakes his head once, dropping his forehead to her shoulder. “Well now you know that I’ll be leaving my kingdom to go get you if the need be.”

Persephone blinks her pretty eyes at him. He leans down and kisses her eyelids. “I personally would love it if you retrieved me every time.”

“Your mother would curse me.”

“So what?” The corner of her mouth lifts challengingly. “Are you afraid of her?”

Harry takes her wrists and pushes them into the mattress, hovering over her with darkened eyes. “I’m afraid of nobody, dear wife.”

Persephone wraps her legs around his waist again, a burst of excitement striking through her. She’s ready to go for more. Already. The only person that could match his energy.

“Oh yeah?” she says coyly. “So you’ll come get me every autumn solstice then?”

His eyes narrow. Then he’s leaning down to catch her mouth in a kiss. He mutters, “Quiet,” and Persephone knows she’s won. She kisses him back, breaking her arms from his hold, wrapping herself around him until every inch of her skin is touching his.

He pulls back and holds her face. “I love you,” he tells her softly, eyes ablaze with endless adoration. He caresses her cheek. “Welcome home.”

[inkedberries]

day 2 of oc-tober!! prompt: early life some tiiiiiiiny info n backstory

prompts taken from here!!

[sugar-grigri]

This chapter is an equation 

You: ooooooookkkk Loulou not only are you late but now you see 'plus' in the chapter name so Fujimoto magically becomes a mathematician 

Well, yes, and quite simply because the main theme of part 2 is identity, and what is an identity made up of ? A cluster of facets 

So let's break it down...

Some people interpreted the fact that Denji noticed the curry buns being promoted as a sign that his identity was being devalued 

I find it interesting to bring this up because I think we need to take the analysis further 

Denji's identity isn't devalued, it's literally halved 

Chainsaw Man is part of Denji's happiness, and he starts smiling again the moment his path crosses that of a demon.

But you can take the magnifying glass and see even further, you have to deconstruct each square because there is no dialogue, the message is captured in the image 

Denji smiles when he sees this demon, caught up in his euphoria, he has the reflex of wanting to pull on his cable but stops in his tracks.

Note the cutting, Denji's finger is pointing at himself, and his puzzled look in the third frame signifies a question:

Am I the one who should intervene ?

Am I the man/demon of the situation ?

Am I still Chainsaw Man? Or should I continue to be ?

Let's skip ahead a few pages, this page still brings up Denji's dilemma: should he become Chainsaw Man or continue his normal life with Nayuta? 

Denji can no longer be Chainsaw Man for fear of losing Nayuta, so almost to make up for the half he lacks, he ingests food in his effigy. 

Far from a harmless act...

For one thing. As I've already said, Denji works with the concrete, and with his senses. Not only is food important to him, but it allows him to project himself and think. Whether to measure a proposition or even express a dream (eating steaks), but also in the question of his identity.

Not only did Pochita and Denji rub shoulders when they were both hungry, but their connection is above all sensory, even anatomical. The demon is Denji's heart, and literally ingesting Chainsaw Man allows a semblance of connection, and a re-appropriation of his identity for Denji.

But eating has another, deeper meaning that connects Nayuta and Denji. Once again, follow me into the more complicated part 

I had already analyzed the fact that Nayuta and Denji were more than brother and sister, in the sense that Makima's murder follows the stages of childbirth in reverse.  

The chainsaw, the instrument of maternity, is already busy slicing the joint of Makima's pubic bone, the place from which her power derives, the ultimate anatomical element of maternity. 

Then he becomes one with Makima, devouring her, literally holding her in his womb - the stage of pregnancy. 

These stages merely announced that Denji was pursuing a creative, even salvific act, enabling her to give life to a second version of herself. 

In my opinion, everything in this chapter refers to Makima, from the kitchen in the background to the fact that they're having fun watching a film, and even the bath scene makes sense. 

Makima had a very sensitive sense of smell; Denji had already mentioned in part 2 that he had been told he smelled like a dog.

We can see why, since he literally washes himself with his dogs, which Makima adores and which are predominant in this chapter. 

Let's take the "plus" again, plus is to be understood in a first sense. When Denji had begun to claim his dreams before fighting Makima, he had said that he now wanted more than a normal life (normal life +), that he wanted to be Chainsaw Man. 

He had claimed his full identity as + Chainsaw Man. 

But if Nayuta predominates in this chapter, it's also to evoke two meanings 

Firstly, the normal life Denji imagined had something extra that he hadn't considered when he awoke in front of Kishibe: having a little sister, i.e. + a little sister. 

Nayuta's very existence is a +1, both in Denji's entourage and in the sense that she is the second reincarnation of the demon of domination. 

But the "+" has much more to offer, so let's continue 

When Nayuta says this, the interpretation must be negative, i.e. we must remember what she means, especially in this "be happy too".

For Nayuta, there's no doubt that this normal life is more than just normal, it's a happy life. 

For her, being with Denji is the most important thing, promising to stay with him for life; for her, the fact that he has her (i.e. +1) is the literal equation of happiness. 

Nayuta's answer isn't just in her words and gestures. Despite her sleep, she tries to make the two sign, and ends by reaching out her arms to invite him to embrace her. Because a hug can only be given by two people.

That's why I brought up Makima so much, because the demon of domination pursues the exact same line of reasoning. 

Because a plus isn't just a plus, it can also be a cross (yes, it's twisted, but follow me).

We go straight back to chapters 93 to 95 with the confrontation between the demon of domination and Denji (i.e. before Makima gave birth to her second version). 

When Makima thinks she's done with Denji, she starts talking directly to Pochita. 

The demon of domination had always banked on the only entity she didn't think herself superior to (i.e. her equal, +1). 

Her source of happiness was to find an entourage, even if it was only considered by ONE being. 

I thought Nayuta's gesture was very similar to the way Makima had cuddled Pochita.

And I think her gesture is even more important than we think. 

When Makima cuddled Pochita, she did so with just one hand, whereas when Nayuta contemplates her future life, her future, she places both hands on it as if she were embracing the entity she loved completely. 

Including Pochita and Denji (+)

That's +1 compared to her previous life 

AND IT'S NOT OVER 

Obviously, the chapter isn't over, so we'll continue with this cursed plus 

With the weapons discussion

I'm just going to repeat this dialogue. Not only do the weapons fully evoke the question of their identity, there are several of them, belonging to several overlapping species (+1).

But above all 

Barem says this: 

And this is where the biggest difference lies between what Barem and Chainsaw Man think 

Barem refers directly to God, the creator (the cross is taken up again, Chainsaw Man is full of Christian references), creator also means to create, so +1

The one who creates, as Nayuta's presence literally shows, as well as the domination demon's theory of happiness, is the fact that Chainsaw Man is more capable of creating than destroying. 

Which may seem strange at first glance, given that Pochita had wiped out most of the big demons (i.e. -1). 

Except that, not only is Chainsaw Man made up of Pochita + Denji, i.e. two beings that add up, but if he is capable of eliminating beings, i.e. their death, he can also be understood as the one who dictates their birth, as Angel had pointed out. 

+ is none other than the symbol of creation, but also of connection with others and happiness. 

Barem is content to reason by subtraction; all species exist to subtract, whereas Chainsaw Man works by balance: although he can delete, he can also create.

All it takes is one + to turn this normal life upside down.

[one-britt-to-rule-them-all]

Hi!can I ask a really short gn!MC(like 140/4'8) that can actually beat everyone's ass with the side characters?Thx!idk if your ask are open,if not ignore this

They sure are, thanks for sending this in! I’m assuming you mean the four dateables when you say side characters, but if not, feel free to send this in again, so I can rectify! These got long I’m sorry.

Also, these can be read as platonic or romantic. It’s ambiguous!

They react to a really short MC that can kick ass

Genre: SFW, Crackish

Characters: Diavolo, Barbatos, Solomon, Simeon Ft. Luke

Pronouns: GN (You/Your | They/Them)

CW: | Swearing | Fights |

Requests are OPEN, guys!

Diavolo

• When you first arrived to the Devildom, Diavolo didn't seem to take notice of your short stature — not a single comment. Focused on the excitement of welcoming a human to his realm, he greeted you with open arms, a large grin that could put the bright sun of your realm to shame, and boisterous laughter that filled the council room. Nothing out of character for the prince. He was, truly and solely, basking in the fact that his passion project was about to officially take place.

• It wasn't until one of the brothers present during your arrival — Asmodeus, if he recalled — cooed about your height that he truly took notice. When Diavolo fully examined your appearance... oh, oh.

• You were so tiny. All demons present in the room towered over you by quite a lot, even Asmodeus, despite being the shortest of the seven brothers. Honestly, Diavolo wondered if they had accidentally summoned a teenage human, going as far as to subtly lean towards Barbatos, asking if they had summoned the right human.

• But no, there had been no mistake, you were the human that had been picked for the program.

• As Lucifer took over, explaining the premises of the program, Diavolo’s grin didn’t falter, and he didn’t let it show in his posture or facial expression that his thoughts were running a mile a minute.

• Fear. Worry. Nervousness. Utter bafflement. The man nearly had an existential crisis on the spot.

• How?? How were you going to survive a full year down here? To Diavolo, you looked like a wee, fragile little thing. He was so worried that you’d be targeted by some of the rowdier demons. I mean, Beelzebub could make a midnight snack out of you under five seconds — Diavolo knew that the sixth-born wouldn’t, but still!

• Even though you were under the protection of the seven brothers, worry still ate him up. He would consistently check in with Lucifer, wanting to know how you were adjusting to the Devildom.

• Diavolo didn't know how to handle you at first, and it was quite comical to everyone around him. Should he bend or kneel to your level when talking to you? Should he talk softly, as if speaking to a frightened kitten??

• Nearly looked up 'How to talk to small human' online.

• Really, he was just afraid of frightening you. Diavolo knew just how stuffy and stiff others were around him due to his status, and he genuinely and wholeheartedly wanted you to feel comfortable around him. He was aware of how tall and broad he was, and how intimidating his power and title made him.

• And although he was relieved when he figured you weren't afraid of his presence and even enjoyed his company, he still acted as a worried mother hen. Keeping a watchful eye on you, analyzing every interaction you had with demons that weren't the brothers and keeping tabs on you by asking Lucifer for some reports, or directly checking in on you by text.

• With all of his stalking observations, of course Diavolo caught on to that one demon who looked at you hungrily. He could practically see them salivating at the thought of devouring your soul every time you walked by.

• The demon prince did not like that. Not one bit. Not only was this demon clearly having thoughts about harming a precious exchange student, but they were also thinking of harming someone who had grown to be personally precious to Diavolo himself.

• Luckily for the demon — and your safety — they had never actually been bold enough to attempt harming you, but still Diavolo remained vigilant.

• That luck ran out at one of Diavolo's many parties at the castle. It was a more casual party, and so demons of all social status were invited. Of course, you were there, accompanied by your seven friends and bodyguards closely trailing after you. However, there had been a point where you needed some fresh air to decompress from the crowd, and so, you sneaked away from the brothers, heading to a balcony.

• What you didn't notice that Diavolo had, was that the demon that had been stalking you at RAD was present at the party, and upon seeing you wander away from the party and the brothers, followed you to the balcony with a ravenous look in their eyes.

• And, oh no, that would not stand. With his face hardened and wings flared threateningly, Diavolo took quick and strong strides after the demon.

• He had made it to the balcony at the moment that the demon grabbed you by the waist, spinning you around and baring his fangs at you, muttering about how they 'finally had you where they wanted, and that you smelled absolutely divine.'

• Everything that happened afterwards was a blur; it all happened so fast. Your surprised expression contorted into a hardened glare before you gripped the demon's wrist, turned around as you flipped them over your shoulder in a fluid, effortless motion, and then dangled them in the air off the balcony.

• Diavolo was floored. He watched as the demon shrieked pleas and apologies, begging for you to spare their life, while you remained poised and silent. Eventually, you yanked them back up with enough force that had the demon falling to their knees as they panted from the frightful experience.

• When you noticed Diavolo's presence, you panicked. Bowing to him and spewing apologies about your 'inexcusable behaviour.' He had to raise his hand to stop your tangent, and he swore his heart melted when you looked at him with expectant, glossy eyes.

• It took Dia a while to get his bearings, but when he did, he crossed his arms and let out his signature, boisterous laughter; his once tense posture relaxing.

"Well now, that was most certainly unexpected. And here I was worried that your life would be in constant jeopardy down in the Devildom. Was I ever wrong? There is no need to apologize, you were acting in self-defence."

• The demon who had attempted to attack you tried to sneak away, but they were stopped by Diavolo's hand holding a harsh grip on their shoulder. Although his grin didn't falter, they could feel the sinister aura emitting from the prince.

"I believe that a little chat is in order, don't you think?"

Barbatos

• Barbatos knew what to expect of you when you first came to the Devildom and was most likely the least surprised or affected by your height. Don't be mistaken, he did find you rather cute, looking all meek on the floor as your wide, hesitant eyes glanced at the various demons towering over you.

• And although the royal butler wore his usual nonchalant expression, he certainly felt a tinge of amusement as he watched Diavolo slowly have an internal meltdown, thinking you were a goner before the program even began.

• Barbatos found it funny because he knew.

• After all, he had been tasked with looking into parts of your past and future, gauging you as a person in order to make sure that you were a rightful pick for the program. Barbatos had seen your capabilities within various timelines. He knew that, despite appearances, you were a storm waiting to ravage villages, given the right circumstances.

• While others panicked about your well-being and wondered how long you were going to survive looking as weak as you did, Barbatos held absolutely no fear, for he knew that you would be just fine.

• But he didn't tell anyone. He didn't feel it to be necessary. After all, they would be finding out for themselves rather soon. And wouldn't it be so much more amusing to see Diavolo and the seven brother's faces when it did happen?

• Barbatos, being Diavolo's loyal butler, often listened to the prince rant about how worried sick he was about your safety. To which he would politely nod with a small smile as he tried his best to reassure him to the best of his abilities.

"Fear not, my lord. I'm quite certain that no harm will befall them. In fact, I am confident that they will be okay. Besides, under the protection of the brothers, the chances of them getting harmed are quite slim."

• Of course, although Barbatos knew you could stand your ground in a fight, he still looked after you from afar. He wouldn't let his knowledge of your skills get in the way of fulfilling his duties as one of the demons in charge of your safety. After all, demons were still rather strong and unpredictable creatures, were they not? Even lesser demons could hold their own against a professionally trained human, so yes, despite your strength, he didn't turn a blind eye when it came to your safety.

• When Barbatos caught wind of a classmate of yours harassing you, his ears perked as he kept a watchful eye.

• Barbatos could tell that your patience was wavering with the demon. What had started as petty name-calling had evolved into bumping their shoulder into yours in the hallways, as well as purposefully tripping you. Barbatos could see the way you attempted to restrain yourself, preferring to let Mammon tell off the offending demon while you practised breathing exercises to stay calm.

• Honestly, Barbatos had to tip his hat to your restraint. Many others would have snapped far earlier, should they have been in your shoes.

• But when you finally snapped, well, what a beautiful display that was!

• It happened in Diavolo's office, where he, the prince and Lucifer were holding a small meeting. Barbatos had just sat down after pouring cups of his famous tea when the door to Diavolo's office suddenly burst open. No, that's not accurate. The door had been completely knocked off of its hinges, with the wood bursting into shards under the sheer force of the blow.

• The sudden ruckus had Diavolo and Lucifer springing to their feet as they stared at the demon that lay on the ground, groaning in pain and nearly unconscious. In the doorway stood your form, in all of your 4'8 glory, looking absolutely livid. Behind you was a small crowd of passing demons who gaped at the scene, with Mammon's jaw nearly hitting the floor as he stared at you in wide-eyed disbelief.

• As Lucifer demanded answers from you, Barbatos calmly took a sip of his tea. He knew.

"Oh my! Shall I arrange for repairs right away, my lord? A nurse, perhaps?"

• Upon realizing what had happened, you immediately snapped out of your rage and began profusely apologizing for one, disrupting their meeting; two, busting the door, and three, getting into a fight with another student.

• Hey! In your defence, it was self-defence. You explained that this demon, who had been targeting you for weeks, had decided to grab you by the shoulders hard enough for his claws to draw blood. And so, you responded accordingly: a surprise uppercut to the chin, followed by a swift yet strong kick to the demon's midsection.

• At the revelation, Lucifer could only pinch the bridge of his nose, grey hairs visibly forming, while Diavolo... well, he calmly told you that although you should avoid bringing harm to fellow students, you were just defending yourself. Barbatos could hear the absolute bewilderment in the prince's voice.

• "I must say, (Y/N)," Barbatos said, "While catching a glimpse of your strength was intriguing, witnessing it with my own eyes is far more fascinating. But please, do come to us should you encounter another pest."

"You knew all along, Barbatos?!" Diavolo said.

• The butler could only offer a small, cheeky, close-eyed smile. Of course he knew.

Solomon

• Upon first meeting you at RAD, Solomon didn't have a strong opinion about your height. Of course, he took notice, but he merely glossed over it with a subtle quirk of his eyebrow after looking you up and down. Sure, you were a cute little human, but that was about as deep as his thoughts ran.

• From his perspective, why would your safety be in any kind of danger when you had the avatars and the royals to back you up? Should a problem ever arise, you always had someone trailing behind you, usually Mammon, and he had noticed Lucifer's watchful eye.

• So, no, Sol wasn't bothered by your height, nor was he concerned for you. At least, that was his opinion up until he got to know you better and you managed to earn yourself a soft spot in the sorcerer's heart.

• Don't get him wrong, even after you became close, Solomon still didn't fear for your well-being. After all, you now had one of the most powerful sorcerer added to your roster of bodyguards. No, that wasn't how his behaviour towards you had changed. Instead, your height had become the butt of all his teasing, as Solomon was definitely the type to lovingly bully his close friends.

• Solomon, that shady bastard, is an absolute menace. As a fellow human, he knew all the best 'short people' jokes in the book, and dear God, he would absolutely milk them. He truly revelled in the frustrated expressions you pulled at his continuous teasing. You looked about as threatening as a small child when you looked at him like that.

• "Solomon, could you please give me my DDD back," you said.

"Hm?" He said, pretending to be confused as he dangled the device above his head. "It's right there. Nothing is stopping you from taking it."

• He has bought you kid clothes before as a joke, but the joke was on him since you not only fit in them, but you also looked hecking adorable.

• "Hey, Solomon, I've got a question about this spell. See, this part right here is kinda confusing to me, and — hey! Are you even listening?"

With a confused expression, Solomon looked around the room. "Hm? I could have sworn I heard a voice..."

You sighed, shaking your head. "Oi, down here."

"Ah, (Y/N)! There you are! You're so small, I didn't even see you come into the room."

"Bastard."

• Solomon sometimes pats your head and coos praises in a baby voice whenever you make progress with your magic, and he has definitely taken a liking to bending to your level to make eye contact when he speaks to you. He comes across as condescending, for sure, but you're at the point in your relationship where it's just a 'you and him' thing. If another attempted to do nearly half the things Solomon did on a near-daily basis, there would be hell to pay for the disrespect. 'I can bully you, but others can't,' type of guy.

• But despite it all, Solomon is smart. He knows your limits and boundaries and won't push, and he knows to read the room and wouldn't tease you if he knew you weren't in the best of moods.

• Unfortunately, not all demons in the Devildom had his smarts. Especially not this particular demon, who jumped at every opportunity which sorcerer wasn't by your side to pick at you. They were a demon that you had once been paired with for a spells project, and the bullying had begun then. You believed the catalyst had been when you pointed out a few mistakes in your partner's part of the work. After all, they were a lesser demon of pride.

• Cruel remarks about your species, picking apart your appearance, and even threatening harm on you since you 'looked so breakable.' But the coward would casually walk off with a shit-eating smirk plastered on their face whenever Solomon or one of the brothers walked in your direction.

• Solomon let you vent your frustrations to him about the pest, even offering to put a curse on them. Y'know, teach them a lesson or two. Or five. Who was counting?

• Eventually, you snapped, and Solomon had a front-row seat to the show.

• Class had ended, and as the classroom was clearing out, leaving behind only yourself, Solomon and the demon, the demon came up to you. Seemingly forgetting that Solomon was present at the back of the class, they began taunting you, which you chose to ignore. Not even gracing them with a glance, you acted as though they didn't exist, which most definitely shot an arrow through the demon's pride.

• When the demon held your wrist in a vice grip tight enough to leave a hand-shaped bruise, Solomon was ready to throw hands. However, it seemed as though you had beaten him to the punch.

• Solomon watched, utterly fascinated, as you reeled your unoccupied hand back, delivering a sucker punch that had Sol wincing for the poor soul on the receiving end.Then, in an astounding display, you lifted the demon above your shoulders as though they weighed nothing before slamming them into the ground. Adding salt to the wound, a swift kick to their ribs had a sickening crack resonating throughout the classroom.

• Well, colour him pleasantly surprised! And a little turned on, not gonna lie.

• Solomon followed you out of the class, stepping over the demon who was writhing in pain on the ground, but not without muttering a few words underneath his breath.

• "Now, where did such a little human such as yourself conjure up so much power? Absolutely fascinating, dear."

• Let's just say that Solomon was counting his blessings that you were on his side, and that he had never pushed you over the edge. In no way did he want to be on the receiving end of such a smackdown. But he'd be lying if he said that he didn't want to see this side of you again. For research purposes, of course.

• And that demon? Well, let's just say he was stuck in the bathroom with a rather violent stomach bug for a good week straight. Strange.

Simeon

• Sweet Simeon truly didn't want to underestimate you. He didn't want to offend you by doubting your capabilities, but... well, he just couldn't help it! You were such a sweet human with the purest of souls.

• A caregiver by nature, Simeon immediately worried about your safety. There was no doubt in his mind that your height, making you look as meek and fragile as it did, would make you a prime target for hungry demons looking for easy prey.

• Sure, you were taller than Luke was, but Luke had the saving grace of being an angel, therefore, not completely defenceless. You, on the other hand, were a human with no magical capabilities.

• He trusted that the brothers would keep you safe, but what if you were caught during a split-second where you were left unattended? That's all it would take for a demon to jump you.

• And so, you had gained yourself a guardian angel who silently yet aggressively fretted over you. If a brother couldn't accompany you to class, he happily fulfilled that role, even waiting for you to be safely seated before taking his leave. He constantly asked how you were doing, trying to subtly gauge whether you had gone through some troubling experiences. You did tell him anything negative, if you had, Simeon wasn't sure if he would take it up to Diavolo and Lucifer, or if he would confront the problem himself.

• Nevertheless, Simeon made sure that all demons knew that, not only were you under the protection of the avatars, but also a high-ranking angel. Considering angels could easily go toe to toe with demons, most seemed to get the memo, not glancing in your direction whenever Simeon hung with you.

• Of course, there was the occasional demon who seemed to think that the small human was fair game to harass. If Simeon ever caught wind of it, he'd help you defuse the situation peacefully, protectively standing in front of you as he cast a disappointed glance to the offending demon. Simeon had this sort of presence where one would shrivel in shame if the angel looked at them in disappointment.

• Thankfully, none had attempted to bring physical harm on you, and Simeon sincerely prayed that it would never happen. It was bad enough to him that you had to deal with the occasional insult, he'd never be able to forgive himself if the human he had grown so fond of got hurt while on his watch.

• Simeon was pretty stoked when Luke joined him on the '(Y/N) protection squad'. One more friend and bodyguard! Because despite being a small child, Luke was still an angel with holy abilities.

• Besides, Simeon thought that it was just so sweet, seeing Luke get all protective over you. The young angel seemed to see you as an older sibling, and that made Simeon's heart melt.

• In turn, you became quite protective of Luke yourself. Simeon didn't blame you, as he knew that the majority of humans had quite the instinct to keep children safe from harm.

• However, you tended to put yourself in harm's way for the sake of defending Luke's honour. Sure, you were only biting back with colourful insults whenever someone picked at Luke, but it definitely made Simeon's hair prematurely go grey. After all, some demons were quite easy to set off, and he didn't want you to accidentally start a fight.

• He cradled your hands into his, soothing your knuckles with delicate strokes of his thumbs.

"My dear, I very much appreciate you looking out for Luke, but you mustn't endanger yourself. Please, promise me to watch out for yourself. I don't know what I would do if something ever happened to you. And I'm sure Luke feels the same way."

• That pleading, worried look in Simeon's eyes broke you, and you didn't have the heart to argue with him.

• Things had settled down for a while after Simeon had a talk with you; you opted to reach out to him if you felt Luke was being treated unfairly instead of meddling. Which Simeon very much appreciated. You were still watching over Luke, but in a way that didn't compromise your safety. Everyone wins!

• Of course, just when things had settled down, you threw Simeon for a loop.

• It was the first time a demon had attempted to bring physical harm to Luke. Students were sidestepping as the poor, crying child ran at full force down the hallway as a lesser demon chased after him.

• Searching for a saving grace, Luke spotted you walking his way, and without thinking, he immediately darted behind you for security and comfort. You, being you, didn't ask questions as you saw the demon approaching. Your brain went, 'child in danger, must protect child.' And so, consequences be damned.

• Simeon was sprinting down the hall with all his might after hearing gossip which involved a demon chasing the young angel. He felt his heart stop as he saw both you and Luke standing in the demon's path, the latter not stopping in his chase, even with you standing protectively in front of Luke. To the demon, that was just an extra target, after all.

• But then, Simeon stopped dead in his tracks, staring wide-eyed and gasping as he saw your next move. With deadly precision, you had grabbed the demon's wrist, and with force he didn't know humans could even achieve, swung your arm behind you, effectively throwing the demon into the distance. There was a loud thud where the demon's body landed, followed by a pained grunt.

• Regaining his bearings, Simeon ran to you and Luke before the demon could get back up. He didn't think that he would. Those cracks sounded painful. He pulled you and Luke into an empty classroom, away from the public eye. While you were busy fussing over Luke, trying to comfort him and hush his tears, Simeon didn't know who to fuss over for a moment, still gobsmacked from what he had just witnessed.

• Eventually, he joined you in the Luke comfort squad. You both looked like a couple of worried parents after a close call with their child.

• "Haha. Forgive me, (Y/N). While I was busy worrying myself sick over you, you were perfectly capable of holding your own all along. I misjudged you; that was impressive. But please, never again, I nearly had a heart attack."

• When Luke had calmed down, he became your number one fan. Seriously, Simeon and Solomon would be hearing about it for the next month. Not that Simeon was any better; he'd be praising you for a lifetime.

• Don't judge a book by its cover, huh?

[shadowgale96]

Clara’s Mom (Mrs.Valac) Was a Dem-dol

Evidence:

1) They look strikingly similar.

They both have green hair with similar volume and fluff.

They're cloths are the same color scheme of white and green.

The cloths are even the same style with the puffy upper arm sleeves.

They both are sporting a green bow.

Pointed ears (but sure most demons have pointed ears)

Similar completion/skin

Clara's mom has ram horns, but she could be hiding them under her hair or using magic to conceal them.

Plus, we've already seen that Kerori wears fake horns to hid her real ones in order to help conceal her identity.

2) Clara's mom constantly breaks out into song.

The show isn't a musical, but whenever the Valac family is on screen, it's almost a guarantee that a song number is about to happen. Breaking out into song seems to be a very normal thing for their family. She's obviously encourages singing and dance choreography. The fact that this family is so chaotic yet dances in sync is incredible.

The family even breaks into song on stages and preforms for everyone.

3) She has Dem-dol qualities.

She has cute and charming qualities that are expected of a dem-dol and speaks in a very calming manner.

She has 6 children, most of which are very high energy, but she holds their attention and keeps control over them almost effortlessly. Which would make sense if she's had a career as a dem-dol controlling hundreds of rowdy demons at once.

She also strikes poses when singing.

4) The timeline is plausible.

Time line wise, Kerori watched the green haired dem-dol preforming when she was a little kid. Clara is roughly the same age as Kerori so if it was a live performance Mrs. Valac would have had at least 2 kids at the time of that performance which is perfectly plausible. Plenty of female singers have kids and preform. if this is what happened she likely left around when her other sons where born, wanting to spend more time with her family.

Another possibility is that Kerori was simply watching a re-run with her grandmother of a performance, which would easily explain why the dem-dol looks so young if it is Mrs. Valac.

In summery, Clara is most likely the daughter of a dem-dol.

[idolysa]

†⃨⃰‧̍̊ ◟ ͜ ͜ ͜ ◞　@rwuffles Inspired SNPTs｡ ♡

🍪 、System Names ； The love-driven Pups, Valentines’s demise, Sweet hearts, Hounds of Love, Puppy Love collective, Street Mutts, Adorable Villains, Maidish puppies, The sweetest mutts, Kindness’ Doggy/Doggies, Stray Cuties, Devilish ‘n Adorable, Sweet Saviors, Baby Lambs, Sacrificial Puppies, Cutest little Doggy/Doggies, (The) Eldritch Frankenpups, Demonic sweethearts, Oceanic pups.

🐶 、Names ； 貴 (quý), 娟 (quyên), 慧 (huệ), 紅 (hồng), 志 (chí), 安 (an), 嬌 (kiều), 光 (quang), 艷 or 琰 (diễm), 緣 (duyên), 麗 (lệ), 愛 (ái), 真 (chân), 瑾 (cẩn), 恭 (cung), 嘉 (gia), 好 (hảo), 侯 (hậu), Huyên, 康 (khang), 謙 (khiêm), 敬 (kính), 亮 (lượng), 日 (nhật), 寧 (ninh), 昌 (xương), 王 (vương), 偉 (vĩ), 慧 (tuệ), Lãng, Loi, Ngoan, Nhạc.

These names are Vietnamese and are sourced from behindthename.com, please tell me if there are any mistakes.

🐾 、More Names, but Exclusive to bửu’s use ； Amitai, Ammiel, Armon, Asher, Azrael, Baruch, Dror, El/Eli, Elazar, Elihu, Elior, Elishua, Habakkuk, Hallel, Ira, Ishmerai, Jaasiel, Jadon, Yafe, Mehamem, Nathaniel, Lev, Liron, Eitan.

These are Hebrew names from my own Culture, do not use these if you aren’t Jewish. Xuân has exclusive Permission from me to use These.

🦴 、More Names, but I Pulled them out My Ass ； Pupangel, Sweetmilk, Pupysia, Pupdoll, Sweetener, Sacrifysa, Bitez, Kyutie, Wolfymp, Oceanari, Loserpup, Sweetooth, Mupup, Dogmu, Murian, Mumin, Sharum, Divimu, Lovimu, Mulentine.

🐑 、Pronouns ； H♡/H♡m, H☆/H☆m, He/Heart, Heart/Heartbeat, Ki/Kind, Ki/Kiss, Lo/Love, Pu/Puppy, Mu/Mutt, Wu/Wuff, Ar/Arff, Swe/Sweet, Beau/Beauty, La/Lamb, Cu/Cute, Kyu/Kyute, Dem/Demise, Ocea/Ocean, Sea/Sea’s, Aqu/Aqua, Shar/Shark, Dea/Dear, Cha/Charm, Exci/Excite, Wag/Wag’s, He/Hero, Sacri/Sacrificial, Swo/Swoon, Lo/Loser, Boy/Boyfie, Pat/Pats, Paw/Paw’s, Oup/Ouppy, Li/Little, Ange/Angel, Ble/Bless, Gi/Gift.

💌 、Titles ； The Heartbeat of My Heart, The Genius sweet tooth, Prn who’s Tail Wags Excitedly/Happily, The Sweet-toothed Hero, My Beautiful puppyboy, Prn’s sacrificial Demise, The Oceanic mutt, Prn who’s just the Sweetest, The oh-so Charming Boy/Pup/Hero, Prn who has Swooned (Prn’s Villain), The kind-hearted Hero, Prn’s beyond-adorable Obliviousness/Excitement, The cutest Mutt, Prn who’s full of Love, The Prettiest Boy ☆.

[autism-sprinkles]

BUT ITD BE FUN!!!

@gravestone-sys @the-astral-fairgrounds chip tuber agreed but said 1am mt (2am cdt) was too late for it how does an hour or two before sound.

[m-jelly]

Hello, Jelly! How are you?

What about demon prince! Levi? The reader is a witch who must give her soul to the Demon King, but he does not accept this payment.

Instead, he asks for her hand in marriage for his only son, the demon prince Levi. Levi is lonely and his father is worried about him, so he thinks that finding a mate for him is a good solution.

The reader agrees to this, which results in Levi and her falling madly in love. Levi is happy that he has found the love of his life, just like his beloved

@ladycheesington <3

Spell veil

Levi x dem!reader

Royal AU, demon Levi, witch reader, fluff, romance, arranged marriage, falling in love, love at first sight.

You're meant to offer your soul for power to the demon king, but the king is concerned about his lonely son. Instead of losing your soul, the king offers you marriage to his son. You meet the prince and the two of you fall helplessly in love with each other.

@ladycheesington @levisbrat25 @nyxiieluna @li-anne @galactict3a @youre-ackermine @thebobaprincess @2moth-anon2 @cypidity @nbinairyn @bts-spnlvr12 @darkstarlight82 @notgoodforlife @demonic-bird

"I decline, but I do have another offer."

You stared at the demon King. "You decline? Is there something wrong with my soul?"

"It's too nice." He chuckled. "Nothing wrong with that. I just need something different."

You pouted a little at the handsome King. "So, what is this other offer?"

He released a long sigh as he considered his offer. The wooden throne creaked when he rose from him. A thudding from his boots echoed in the room when he descended the stairs. Even though he was tall, he had this kind and soothing aura about him, it was hard to believe he was the demon King.

A gentle smile spread on his lips. "You are really cute and you're talented."

You frowned. "Thank you?"

"Are you single?"

"Yes..."

He clasped his hands together. "Wonderful! So is my son! He is very handsome, strong, kind and he has a lot of love to give." He ushered you along and through his grand halls. "He is hardworking as well. He's normally drinking tea and working on some papers in his office or the grand greenhouse." He stopped a maid. "Where is my son?"

The maid bowed. "His Highness is in the greenhouse."

"Thank you!" He dragged you to the greenhouse that took your breath away.

The greenhouse was like an old Victorian one. A large water feature was in the middle. Grand flowers and trees decorated the walls. Near the edge of the greenhouse was a cosy corner with blankets, seats, cushions and a very handsome man sat with papers.

You gasped as heat spread over your cheeks. "Wow."

The king chuckled. "Told you he's handsome." He strolled over to his son and left you standing there. "Levi! My boy. I have someone for you."

Levi looked up from his papers. "Mm?"

"You've been lonely and I said I would find you a wife, so I found you this cute witch!"

Levi leaned a little to look around his father at you. Hopes were not high in Levi, but as soon as he locked eyes with you his heart raced in his chest. To him, you were beautiful beyond words could describe. Instinct took over. He rose to his feet and approached you. A gentle sparkled filled his eyes as he gazed at you.

Your heart skipped a beat when Levi smiled a little bit before caressing your cheek. You bowed your head and hummed. "Y-Your Highness."

"Levi, please." He lifted some of your hair and kissed it. "What is your name?"

You stammered your name. "It's lovely to meet you."

"You too." He gulped hard, he didn't wat to mess up his chance with you. "Would you like to join me for tea?"

"Please."

He escorted you to his little corner and poured you a drink. "Tell me everything about you."

Maids and butlers moved out of the way of the prince while he stormed his way through the halls. Months ago they used to clear the path because he was always in a mood, but then the King brought you into his life and Levi had changed.

Levi was on a mission and this time it was for love. He knew exactly where you were and he knew very well his father did it on purpose. The grand doors of the throne room appeared before him, he was here for you. With a swift kick, the doors slammed open to reveal the King, Queen and you.

The King smiled at Levi and waved. "Hello, son!"

Levi looked at what was going on, it seemed you were showing them a few spells. He hurried over to you and scooped you up into his arms. "My fiancée, mine."

Your cheeks burned as you felt a little flustered. "Levi, the king-."

"Is my father and I'm your fiancé. I want you." He pouted so sweetly. "Ignore my father."

You smiled a little. "You want attention?"

"Of course." He carried you away from his parents. "I'm a very demanding demon. I desire my fiancée's full attention."

You hugged him tightly as he carried you through the halls. "You have me. So, where are we going?"

"To our corner in the greenhouse."

You kissed his cheek causing him to blush. "Did you ever think that you'd be like this with someone years ago?"

"No." He smiled down at you. "But I'm so glad you tried to offer your soul to my father because now I have you." He lay you down on a bed of blankets. "Mine for eternity."

You gasped at the thought. "You're right, we'll be together for eternity."

He leaned over you and began kissing your neck and face. "Does that make you happy?"

You cupped his face and smiled sweetly. "Very."

He played with your hair as you lightly played with his pointed ears an then his horns. "I love it when you touch me as much as you do."

You hummed a laugh. "You're just so soft and warm."

He called your name. "My little spell bunny, I love you."

You smiled at your handsome fiancé. "I love you, Levi."