#demon!gold x human!belle

[dyslexicmammon]

Unwanted

Chapter two

Characters: Lucifer (Obey me!), Solomon (Obey me!) [not together]

CW// SFW, Angst, Yelling, Implied Lucifer x Mc, Implied Solomon x Mc, Nightbringer MC/attendant MC, Unhealthy coping mechanisms (drinking), You/Your & they/them pronouns used, Mammon & reader

Word count: 2,030

A/N: Hello again! Finally wrote chapter 2!~ I've had this sitting in my docs for ages i just couldn't bring myself to post it. I'm not confident in my writing but I'm getting there! I have an idea for chapter 3 but I don't know how long it will take me. I write all of my idea in one siting and painfully re-read it and edit to a point where i think its okay to post aha. I wanted to thank everyone for the notes & hits the first chapter got, it has been a big boost in my writing confidence. Thank you all!! Take care reader

Chapter 1 / Ao3 / Divider credits

“What the FUCK did you do Lucifer!” Mammon stopped the chase as soon as the shield went up. Spinning around and walking back into the foyer of the HOL. He slammed the door behind him before yelling again, so full of anger his wings twitched. “WHAT. THE FUCK. DID YOU DO?!”. Not taking into account how his own actions that day could have done the similar damage.

His anger only grew as the Avatar of Pride responded with the same tone. “SILENCE MAMMON.” Tears prick slowly in the prideful demon's eyes as he quickly makes his way back to his study. Ignoring the screams of his younger brother calling his name.

As he walked down the hallway, the smell of a meal not yet enjoyed slowly started up on him. For the first time since the fall, Lucifer, the Pride of Celestial Realm, became overwhelmed with an emotion he deemed pitiful.

Sadness…

At first his cries were silent. Only the sounds of his breaths hitching as tears welled up in his eyes escaped him. He walked into his study and slammed the door hard behind him. Causing the walls of the House to shake. Locking it swiftly after. Not just with the physical lock but with a spell that not even Lord Diavolo could break.

Mammon yelled after his brother. Demanding he get an answer for why their attendant had just stormed out in tears. He stomped his way up the stairs and made his way to Lucifer's study, ready to give him an earful till his lungs gave out. Mammon followed behind Lucifer as the door slammed followed by a bright light flashed, blinding him temporarily. A faint outline of gold began to surround the door. The surface of the door now shines and shifts like mica powder in oil. A loud, heavenly bell began to ring. The long, drawn out hum rang in Mammons ears.

Quickly screwing his eyes shut and spinning around, Mammon rubbed his eyes hard. Trying to recover from the flash-bang.

After regaining his vision Mammon covered his ears with the palm of his hands and made a run for Levi's room. Stealing a pair of the avatars human standard noise cancelling headphones. They barely cut through the yells of the spell, but stopped it enough where he could drown it out with some music.

Mammon then sat outside Lucifer's room, leaning back and hitting his against the wall softly. He let out an exhausted, angry tinted sigh. His red face slowly dissipates as he calms himself down. Then the waiting game began. He sat outside his older brother's study till the old man had calmed down enough to ask him what the hell happened.

Once the spell fell from Lucifer's lips, he cursed himself out and began to sob. Clasping his gloved hand to his mouth, trying to calm down and keep his composure. He rubbed his upper arm and shoulders in a self soothing way. Fighting back his emotions.

Surely the attendant didn't have that much control over him? Not even his brothers could make him cry. No matter how hard the bastards try. He was stronger than this…

Then why did it hurt so much? The panic in your eyes as you met his gaze in the foyer. The strain in your voice as you yelled the lie that no one cared about you. What did he do wrong that you doubted it… doubted him? Knowing you were being comforted by someone of the likes of Solomon because of his own choices didn’t help the stinging feeling in his chest.

He threw off his gloves and coat. Painfully making his way to his desk, his chest heaving, the smell of the food you made became overwhelming to his senses again.

He looked down at the meal you made.. The tray was decorated with a little note and stickers of the two of you. By looking at the drawings he realised you had made them yourself.. All to try and cheer him up.

You had cooked his favourite stew and poured a glass of demonus for.. both of you? The more he studied the platter you brought the more he realised how bad he fucked up. Two bowls, two wine glasses full of demonus (he can tell you poured it as the glasses were almost full like a champagne flute), two sets of cutlery… Even two tiny bowls of dark chocolate ice cream that were now slowly melting from the heat of the stews surrounding them.

One of the ice creams was absolutely covered in sprinkles. It was so painfully obvious it was your serving. Plain, boring, dark chocolate was his favourite flavour of ice cream at the moment. You didn’t seem to sing the same praises but always ate it anyways. Always trying to find a way to sweeten it up and make it more palatable for your taste buds…

You always ate it with him anyway… Even when your little experiments fell through and didn’t make it sweet enough for you. Lucifer always said that you were sweet enough for him which is why he ate the dark chocolate dessert.

He couldn’t bring himself to look at the dishes any longer. Hanging his head in shame. He pushed the platter away from himself as he sat down. Just enough that he could rest his head on the table. Feeling his stomach start to churn and a lump form in his throat, he began to sob again quietly. Squeezing his hands together and pushing his nails into his skin, causing it to bruise. Trying to divert the aching pain of his heart.

Had he really been so caught up in his work he didn’t notice or care that you made dinner specifically for the both of you so he didn’t have to leave his office? Had he really not noticed the two bowls before opening his fucking mouth? Did he even look up?.. Did he really snap at you like that?..

His thoughts swallowed him whole.

He didn’t touch the food. He had lost his appetite long ago when he had returned to his study. Lucifer couldn’t bring himself to indulge in the meal you had meticulously prepared without you being here, enjoying it with him.

He did however help himself to the demonus. He drank the glass you had poured for him. Then your own glass. Then he opened a new bottle he had stashed away in his room. He poured multiple glasses, losing himself to the pain. He had gotten halfway through the bottle when his D.D.D pinged. He launched himself at his phone that laid screen down on the desk. Picking it up desperately and fumbling it in his hands. Desperately hoping it was you. Only to be disappointed when he realised it was Solomon.

The text read “They are at home and are staying with me tonight. They do not wish to talk to you at the moment and I trust that you can respect that boundary for now. I will ask them to make contact with you in the morning. Whether they do that or not is their choice.” His phone buzzed again. A follow up text coming soon after. “Goodnight Lucifer.” The words repeated and echoed in his mind till the screen went black. Reflecting the absolute mess Lucifer was back at him.

His teary eyes met his reflection. Quickly darting from place to place on his face. His cheeks were darker than the rest of his face. His hair was all out of place and disheveled. Eyelids already puffy and sore… He looked just as pathetic as he felt.

As he stared at his reflection his eyes began to lose focus and his heart became heavy. Were you scared of him? Did you not want to talk to him ever again? Had he fucked up so bad he had scared off the first person to show his ‘new self’ love?

He grabbed the neck of the half empty bottle of demonus and smashed it against his lips. The sudden feeling of cold glass on his lips made him jolt up slightly. Tipping his head back, he let the now lukewarm liquid rush down his throat. Chugging the rest of the bottle. Why was he drinking? This isn’t healthy. Surely he, the Avatar of pride, wasn't drinking his feelings away.

He wallowed in his own pity for a couple more hours. Each brother coming passed to ask him how to do something. To ask him if he's okay or to ask Mammon for his headphones back.

Beel brought up some leftovers for his brothers. He couldn't rest knowing his older brothers were in such a state. As he walked down the hall, Beel heard a loud snoring sound. His gaze met Mammon's sleeping body. He placed the plate down next to his older brother and snuck away quietly. The disgustingly loud ringing sound of the spell he cast on the door pushed them all away before they started to linger. Making sure no one could hear Lucifer's pathetic sobs of your name.

Lucifer placed his head on his desk once more with some force. Knowing he’s going to have to take the day off tomorrow.. Maybe even the next. Already feeling the headache roll in. How was he going to mend this mistake? He couldn’t just show up to Cocytus Hall and beg for your forgiveness. He didn’t deserve it.. Feeling exhausted from hours of crying and drinking. His puffy eyes fluttered shut as he passed out at his desk.

As soon as he lost consciousness, the spell on the door fell. Mammon had managed to unpick the physical lock hours ago. Now sleeping lightly outside his brother's office with a plate of food, some water and the headphones still on.

When the half silent ringing in Mammon's ears stopped. He shot up, yawning and stumbling over the weird pile of things he had managed to accumulate while sleeping. Where did this food come from? That didn’t matter. It was time he got answers out of the eldest brother.

He opened the door as quietly as he could and looked to see where Lucifer was. His eyes darted around the room frantically. The faint snoring led his gaze to the large desk where the Avatar of Pride was hunched over, out like a light & snoring softly.

Mammon just shook his head and walked over to his sleeping brother. All his previous anger dissipated as he studied the absolute disarray Lucifer's desk was in.

Gently and subconsciously he began petting his brothers back softly with one hand as he messaged Beel with his other. Asking the strong Avatar to come help him move Lucifer to his bed. While waiting for Beel, Mammon tidied Lucifer's desk. Sorting his documents out and shaving Lucifer's to-do pile down as much as he could. Prepared to take what documents he could complete himself.

He wiped the demonus Lucifer had dribbled and spilled off the large wooden desk. Once Mammon had finished, almost comically, the Avatar of gluttony walked in as silently as he could into the room. Meeting Mammon’s gaze and nodding softly. Standing on the other side of Lucifer's exhausted body. Beel picked up his eldest brother with ease, placing him on his back like a back pack. They began to walk out. Mammon walked in front of Beel, holding onto the documents and throwing the paper towel away that he had used.

After about 10 minutes they had finally made it to Lucifer's bedroom. Placing him in his bed and tucking him in. Before leaving they gently put one of his records on and placed some water and a large bucket next to the head of the bed. Just in case Lucifer couldn’t make it elsewhere once he woke up.

They both left his room as quiet as possible.

They high fived the second the door to Lucifer's bedroom closed. After saying their goodnights and goodbyes they parted ways to go to their separate rooms.

Mammon made his way to his room and stayed up for the rest of the night, doing the rest of Lucifer's office work.

[evilasiangenius]

The bell jingled as the door opened and somehow it always jingled a little more sweetly when Crowley walked in the bookshop, as if the bell knew that the angel would be pleased to see Crowley.

However, that didn’t extend to the humans.

In whatever state of interest or book reading each person was in, they found themselves setting books down very, very carefully or delicately placing volumes back where they belonged before rushing out the door in a calm and controlled panic. This happened about once every few months or so, usually no more than once a month and the regulars knew it as a time to soothe their strangely distressed souls with vanilla ice and cake, in that specific order. Though sometimes it was strawberry ice and just once, chocolate.

“Angel!” Crowley exclaimed as he strutted in, black shoes clicking snappy upon the parquet floor, humans scuttling out in his wake. The demon took off his hat with a flourish. With hat in one hand and something else conspicuously hidden behind his back with his other hand, he smiled from behind dark-lensed glasses. “I have something for you.”

“Hmm?” Aziraphale looked up from his books. Not the books that made up his shop, but the accounting specifically. His spectacles slipped down his nose and Aziraphale brought his hand up to adjust the little gold-framed reading glasses that had lenses with no discernible degree of magnification but nonetheless helped him read better, or so he thought.

“A record!” Crowley pulled the square cardboard slip out from behind his back, brandishing it triumphantly. “And not just any record, but ‘Hep Hep! The Jumpin' Jive!’!”

“That is a lot of exclamation points,” Aziraphale said drolly, taking the record and looking at the cover. “But my dear, I actually already have a copy of this.”

“...how did you-” Crowley laughed, a short raucous sound. “That’s...that’s impossible, it was just recorded in New York a few hours ago.”

“I would say then that it’s impossible for you to have this as well,” Aziraphale’s mouth was pursed in a tiny amused grin. “So we’re at an impasse.”

“Seriously, impossible,” Crowley muttered, “that every time you beat me to it...”

“Well! That being said, I already have a copy, but I don’t have one from you.” Aziraphale smiled and slipped the record out of the sleeve. “And I haven’t had a chance to listen to it yet, what with all the bookkeeping today, accounting and otherwise. Shall we listen to it together?”

x

[sassykattery]

Blue Christmas

The holidays got me feeling down so I threw together a little something.

CW: Altaira is afab oc, uses she/her pronouns. Talks about some family issues/dysfunction, depression around the holidays. Reference to having sex at the end.

Pairing: Diavolo x oc! Altaira (established romantic relationship)

Characters: Altaira, Diavolo, Barbatos, Lucifer, mention brothers.

Themes: Romance, holidays, depression, family, found family

Minors and ageless blogs DNI

18+ only

Enjoy

"Yes... Yes, this is perfect! I finally found the perfect gift for Altaira, wouldn't you agree?" Diavolo admired his work aloud, turning his head to look at Barbatos for approval.

They stood in the greater living room where the Christmas tree was, grand and tall, the topper nearly scraping the ceiling. It was decorated in the royal color palette, red, black, and gold galore. Beautiful garlands encircled the tree, spiraling down around the delicate ornaments adorning the branches. Beneath the tree were mountainous piles of presents, nearly reaching halfway up the tree.

Barbatos cocked his head. "My lord? You used the singular "gift"... You bought precisely seventy-nine for her?"

"Isn't it wonderful?! Her first Christmas as my partner! I had to surpass any and all expectations, of course. Oh, she'll be so pleased," Diavolo beamed.

"I see. And... what did you tell her that you wanted for Christmas?" Barbatos inquired, tweaking the branches on the palace Christmas tree.

"I'm going to assume you're not shopping last minute for me by asking, so I'll tell the truth: Nothing."

"Nothing? My lord?" Barbatos cocked his head again.

"Yes! I simply want to see the joy on her face as she opens every single one. I can't be distracted! Plus, anything I ever want, I already have or can get easily. This year... I just want her," Diavolo replied with a softened smile as he thought fondly of Altaira.

"I'm here, Diavolo. Let's make this quick, I have six brothers and a lone human they all feel frisky for at home to get back to," Lucifer groaned as he walked in. "Today, Mammon and Satan– hell's bell's, what is this? Please tell me..."

"It's all for Altaira!" Diavolo gestured excitedly, his smile gleaming and tone jovial.

Lucifer frowned and folded his arms. The Demon Lord immediately lost his grin and folded his arms as well, seeing the look on his friend's face.

"Speak your mind, Lucifer," Diavolo commanded.

"...Have you ever asked Altaira how she feels about the holidays?" Lucifer asked.

"I imagine she loves them much like other humans, and we do as well," Diavolo answered, a bit naively.

Lucifer sighed. "I recommend you have a lengthy conversation about that the next time you see her... preferably before you give her all of... that," he gestured vaguely toward the mountains of presents.

"She's never expressed discomfort in it before," Diavolo replied in defense.

"Sure, but she's polite to a fault," Lucifer answered.

"How do you mean?"

"Altaira knows how much you love parties and celebrating... But you and I both know she's more of an introvert and prefers to be alone in her rooms," Lucifer explained. "She's not going to deny you a holiday party."

Diavolo stewed on this, unable to deny what his friend said. "She's never told me otherwise. Has she told you?"

Lucifer smirked. "From a person in a dysfunctional family to another, she and I have an understanding. And yes, we've talked about it. But it's better if she explained it to you directly."

He began to walk away from the royals and back to the House of Lamentation.

Diavolo stared at the Christmas presents he'd bought for her, all wrapped in the finest papers and bows. Black and rose gold they were, her royal color cast with glittering embellishments and designs.

Surely she loves Christmas... doesn't she?

"Hi honey," Altaira murmured as Diavolo brushed up against her, leering over her shoulder to see what she was doing. He watched as she signed some documents as her half of the royal decrees were being made for the new year at her desk in her personal office in the palace.

"That can wait until after the holiday, my love," he murmured, observing her.

"It's fine, I don't mind working," she answered.

Diavolo chuckled. "Aren't we a pair: One of us who avoids work and the other who actively seeks it," he commented in reply. She didn't say anything else, so he continued, "Is there a reason you're working?"

Altaira went silent as she pondered his question.

"The holidays aren't my favorite time of year," she answered simply. "It's easier to work and be occupied than to sit around and think about it."

He slipped his arm around her waist, pulling himself closer, his torso pressed to her flank, his head bowed low to talk to her.

"Can I be so privileged as to know why?" He asked softly.

She put her pen down and gave it some thought.

"The holidays wear on me after a while. It's exciting at first, getting everyone gifts and sharing joy... but the closer we get, the more stressful it is. Do I have a gift for everyone? Do I need to wrap or buy a gift bag? Is this enough? What are we eating? Who's hosting? And then there's the back and forth, the arguing, the miscommunication, the fights," She explained. "It's... a lot."

Diavolo nodded along, understanding her concerns. He waited until she was done.

"I hear you... It is a lot," he answered. "And I know that you tend to be hard on yourself. You raise your expectations and feel disappointed when they're not met. As far as the rest goes..." Diavolo chuckled and put his other hand on her shoulder. "That's what you do with the people you love. You fight, talk, argue, and so on because you want them around you. If you didn't talk at all... Well, would you even call them your family?"

Altaira sighed and looked to the side. "Well... Yes. I do. A good portion of my family I don't talk to because it's just easier than fighting with them."

The prince sat with this information for a moment, getting more to the root of her holiday blues.

"Since I don't have much family around, and I don't have your lived experiences, I don't know if I can speak much on that... But I hope that doesn't turn out to be the case with your family here," he finally replied.

"Darling, I–" Altaira quickly turned to face him, craning her neck back to look up at him. "I could never, and you know why? Because you're my chosen family. You and everyone else here I chose to call my own. I don't speak to my family to keep the peace. I think if I chose to stop talking to any of you, it'd start the next Unholy Wars." Diavolo smirked, and she relaxed. "My love, no matter how agitated or irate I get, I love you so much. I can't imagine my life without you."

"I understand, and I appreciate your words of affirmation. I just hope maybe someday... things can change for you. I just want you to be happy. But I don't wish to patronize you," he replied with a gentle smile. "However, knowing all of this begs the question... Do you wish to not celebrate Christmas?"

Altaira sighed. "No, honey, I do want to celebrate it. As grinchy as I can be about the whole thing, I come to enjoy parts of it. Like being with you," she answered.

He smiled wider. "We can do that."

"I don't mind doing our parties and whatnot... don't cancel them on my accord. Just make sure I have a glass in my hand and food in the other."

"I can make that happen."

"I did go ahead and get you something," she added with an ornery grin.

His brow went up. "May I know what it is?"

"Me, with a side of Demonus and some alone time in your room," she purred softly.

Immediately, his golden eyes were alight with lust and excitement. "Is that right? I can think of no greater gift, my treasure," he answered with a soft voice filled with trepidation. He paused. "Maybe one."

It was her turn to raise a brow.

"Let me put my ring on that finger, and that'll be the greatest gift I'll ever receive," he added. Altaira chuckled and patted his chest.

"We'll see," she replied as she walked away from her desk.

Diavolo followed her out and eyed the Christmas tree as they walked by the greater living room, spying the little rose gold box sitting between some of the branches up high and out of her line of sight.

"Yes, we will."

Thanks for reading <3

Tags: @delphi-dreamin @biteable-pink-pixie @attic-club-sandwich @flemmingbamse @itsmeninerz

[demonicangelics-world]

Redamancy - Zestial X Angel!OC

Chapter One: The Parade

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

Chapter One: The Parade Next Chapter: The Extermination

word count: 4,328 

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

The sky above Heaven shimmered with radiant hues, as if the very essence of joy and triumph painted the heavens. 

On this glorious night, known as the Parade, we guardian angels from across the Earth returned to our heavenly home. Streets of pearl and gold thronged with winners and heavenborn, their songs of praise echoing through the air. The Parade was a grand spectacle, a testament to our hard work and dedication in successfully guiding countless souls to the gates of Heaven. 

I scanned the sea of radiant faces for familiar ones. It had been over a year since I last saw Aramel and Charlotte, and the anticipation of reuniting with them added an extra flutter to my wings. The golden light and the throng of celebrating angels made it difficult to spot anyone, but I was determined to find them before the gates opened.

As I maneuvered through the dense crowd, a burst of laughter caught my attention. I turned towards the sound and there they were—Aramel, his light eyes sparkling with mischief, and Charlotte, her broad smile as radiant as the heavens themselves.

"Aramel! Charlotte!" I called out, waving energetically.

They spotted me almost immediately. Aramel elbowed his way through the crowd with his usual enthusiasm, while Charlotte followed, her laughter ringing like a bell.

"Gabriela!" Aramel shouted, reaching me first. "You look like you've just stepped out of a painting. Must be that heavenly glow."

"Aramel, you're still as charming as ever," I laughed, hugging him tightly.

Charlotte joined us, her eyes twinkling. "It’s been too long! How have you been, Gabriela? Still managing to stay out of trouble?"

"Trouble? Me? Never!" I grinned, embracing her. "But you two look fantastic. How was your year on Earth?"

"Busy," Charlotte said, rolling her eyes playfully. "I swear, humans find the most creative ways to mess up their lives."

"And here we are, cleaning up the mess," Aramel added with a mock sigh. "But hey, all worth it for this moment, right?"

"Absolutely," I agreed, feeling a surge of warmth and happiness. "I've missed you both so much.”

As the gates of Heaven began to slowly open, we stood together, ready to step into the next chapter of our divine journey, our hearts full of joy and camaraderie.

This parade occurred each year on December 31st, which mortals considered as New Year’s Eve. Over the gates, the Eternal Clock stood as a towering masterpiece at the center of the celestial city. Its hands, slender and elegant, moved with a grace that belied their immense size, each tick resonating with a melodious chime that echoed through the celestial realm. When the chime finally struck midnight, it signaled a new year and all of heaven broke into joyous celebration.

The gates of Heaven opened wide as we floated high on golden platforms through the crowded streets. Among the procession, I floated with Aramel and Charlotte, dressed in white robes and my wings gleaming with a soft, divine light. I basked in the adoration of the heavenly crowd. Trumpets blared, and a shower of golden petals rained down upon us, each petal symbolizing the purity and virtue we had upheld.

"This is what we strive for, the ultimate recognition of our efforts!” Aramel shouted over the cheering crowds, "To be celebrated here, in the heart of Heaven!"

Charlotte laughed, her voice carrying a musical quality even over the noise. "Aramel, you always know how to make everything sound like a grand adventure."

My heart swelled with pride as I waved to the crowd, my eyes catching sight of a grand banner bearing the words, "Welcome, Guardians of Light." The celebration seemed endless.

"It is a grand adventure!" Aramel declared, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. "Just think of all the souls we’ve saved, all the chaos we've averted. And now, we're back here, the heroes of the hour!"

"Heroes, huh?" I said, grinning. "And here I thought we were just doing our job."

"Hey, if doing our job means we get to ride on golden platforms and have petals thrown at us, I'll take it," Charlotte quipped, adjusting her halo with a playful wink.

Aramel nudged me with his elbow. "Remember that one soul in New York? The guy who almost jumped off the bridge? I swear, he had more issues than a newspaper stand."

"Oh, definitely," I nodded, recalling the tense moment vividly. "But you handled it well, Aramel. Your knack for talking people down is unmatched."

"Thanks, Gabby. And Charlotte, remember that time in Paris with the artist who lost his muse? You practically inspired a whole new art movement!" Aramel added, his tone admiring.

Charlotte shrugged modestly, but her smile was proud. "Well, someone had to remind him that beauty exists everywhere. And speaking of beauty, look at this place! Heaven really knows how to throw a parade."

We floated higher, the adoring crowd cheered louder as we passed. I took a moment to soak in the scene, the grandeur of the celebration a stark contrast to the moments of doubt and hardship we faced on Earth.

As we floated on, the golden petals continued to rain down, and for a brief, perfect moment, everything felt exactly as it should.

The platforms ascended gracefully, lifting us higher into the radiant skies toward the grand banquet hall. As we floated upward, the sounds of cheering and music gradually blended into a harmonious symphony. The hall itself was a marvel, constructed of shimmering crystal and gold, with vast windows that opened to the celestial vistas beyond. At the center of the platform stood Sera and Emily, their divine presence even more striking amidst the splendor.

Aramel, Charlotte, and I exchanged excited glances as we neared the banquet. “Look at this place,” Charlotte whispered, awe evident in her voice.

We touched down softly, the platforms seamlessly blending into the grand expanse of the banquet hall. The air was filled with the enticing aromas of heavenly cuisine, and tables laden with ambrosial delights stretched out before us. Guardian angels from all corners of Earth gathered, their faces glowing with pride and joy.

At the heart of it all, Sera and Emily stood in the center with welcoming smiles. Sera spoke, her gaze warm yet powerful. “Welcome home, guardians. Your dedication has not gone unnoticed.”

Emily, standing beside her, nodded in agreement. “You’ve all done incredible work. Tonight, we celebrate you!”

The crowd settled into their seats, the buzz of excited conversation filling the air. Aramel, Charlotte, and I found a table near the front, our eyes constantly drawn to the central stage where Sera and Emily presided.

Once everyone was seated, Sera raised her hand, and a hush fell over the hall. Her presence commanded instant attention, the room’s atmosphere shifting to one of reverent anticipation.

“Guardians,” Sera began, her voice resonant and clear, “Today, we honor your tireless efforts and unwavering dedication. Each of you has played a vital role in guiding souls to our heavenly home, and for that, we are eternally grateful.”

The crowd erupted into applause, the sound a joyous affirmation of her words. Sera waited for the noise to subside before continuing.

“In a world filled with challenges and trials, you have been beacons of hope and light. Your bravery, compassion, and perseverance have not only saved lives but also upheld the virtues we cherish. Tonight, we gather not just to celebrate your achievements, but to recognize the strength of your spirits and the purity of your hearts.”

Emily stepped forward, her smile radiant. “Let this banquet be a testament to the unity and love that bind us all. May you find joy in each other’s company, and may your hearts be filled with the peace that only Heaven can bestow.”

Sera raised her glass, the golden liquid within catching the light. “To the guardians of Heaven. May your wings always carry you forward, and may your souls forever shine.”

“To the guardians!” the crowd echoed, raising their glasses high.

Sera smiled, her eyes twinkling with a hint of something special. “And now, esteemed guardians, it is my great honor to introduce a special guest speaker. Someone who has guided many of you with wisdom and strength—Archangel Michael.”

The room buzzed with excitement as Michael stepped forward. Towering above the crowd, he was the epitome of divine strength and grace. His long blonde hair cascaded down his broad shoulders, catching the light and creating a halo effect around his head. His piercing blue eyes scanned the room with a commanding presence, and his chiseled features exuded an aura of both power and kindness. Clad in armor that gleamed like molten gold, he was every inch the warrior angel I had always admired, perhaps a little too deeply.

My heart pounded in my chest as I watched him, every inch of him radiating an unearthly beauty and strength. I had trained under him, learned from him, and somewhere along the way, developed feelings that I had never dared to express.

Michael raised his hand, and the hall fell into a respectful silence. “Guardians, tonight we celebrate your incredible achievements. You have faced unimaginable challenges on Earth, and yet, you have risen above them, guiding souls with unwavering faith and courage.”

He paused, his gaze settling briefly on me, and my breath hitched. “As your mentor, I have had the honor of witnessing your growth and dedication firsthand. Each of you has shown remarkable strength and compassion, embodying the very essence of what it means to be a guardian angel.”

The crowd listened intently, hanging on his every word. “Your hard work and perseverance have not only saved souls but have also strengthened the bond between Heaven and Earth. It is this bond that makes our mission possible, and it is your unyielding spirit that upholds it.”

Michael’s smile broadened, his eyes shining with pride. “As a token of my appreciation, I have crafted a special gift for each of my mentees. A weapon that symbolizes your courage and dedication. These weapons have been delivered to your residences, each one unique and tailored to your strengths. May they serve you well in your future endeavors.”

The room erupted into applause. I felt a mixture of awe and humility wash over me. Michael’s words were a powerful reminder of why we did what we did, and his gift was a tangible symbol of his faith in us.

He raised his glass, a final toast. “To the guardians, may your light continue to shine brightly in the darkest of places.”

“To the guardians!” We echoed once more, our voices filled with renewed determination and pride.

The celestial music began to play and the feast commenced. I couldn't help but steal glances at Michael, my heart swelling with a mix of admiration and longing. He was everything I aspired to be—strong, wise, and infinitely kind. And though my feelings for him might remain unspoken, I took comfort in knowing that I was among those he trusted and valued.

As I turned back to my friends, Aramel and Charlotte were already making faces at each other.

“Can you believe Uriel didn’t even show up?” Aramel grumbled, crossing his arms. “It’s like he doesn’t even care about us.”

Aramel and Charlotte were under Uriel’s mentorship.

Charlotte nodded, rolling her eyes. “Typical Uriel. Always off somewhere, doing who knows what. Probably lost in a cloud or something. We get all these epic tales, but when it’s party time, poof! He’s a no-show.”

“You two are just unlucky,” I teased, trying to lighten the mood.

Aramel leaned in closer, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Unlike you, Miss Fortunate. Not only did Michael show up, but he also made a special speech and gave you all weapons! You hit the mentor jackpot!”

Charlotte smirked, nudging me with her elbow. “And don’t think we didn’t notice how flustered you got when he looked at you. Your wings were practically glowing.”

I felt my cheeks flush and tried to wave them off. “Oh, come on. He’s just... inspiring, that’s all.”

“Uh-huh, sure,” Aramel said, raising an eyebrow. “Inspiring in a tall, handsome, heroic kind of way, right? I mean, those chiseled features could probably cut through clouds.”

I place both hands on my reddening cheeks. “Oh stop it, Aramel!” I mentally picture the description. 

I sighed, unable to keep a smile off my face. “Okay, fine. Maybe I admire him a bit more than just professionally. But it’s not like it matters. He probably doesn’t even see me that way.”

Charlotte’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Oh, please. Did you see the way he looked at you? If looks could launch a thousand ships, you’d be Helen of Troy.”

“Don’t feed into my delusion,” I hopelessly said

Aramel shakes his head in disagreement. “Hey, even if he doesn’t, it doesn’t change the fact that you’re an amazing guardian angel. He trusts and values you, and that’s something to be proud of. Plus, we all know you could outshine any archangel with your skills.”

I looked between my friends, grateful for their support. “Thanks, guys. You always know how to make me feel better.”

“Anytime,” Charlotte said with a grin. “Now, let’s enjoy this feast. We’ve earned it. And who knows, maybe Michael will come over and ask you for a dance.”

Aramel wiggled his eyebrows. “Or maybe he’ll just swoop you off your feet and fly you to the moon. Literally.”

I laughed, feeling a bit lighter. “Well, if he does, I hope he knows how to waltz.”

As we dug into the delicacies before us, the laughter and conversation flowed easily, making the celebration feel even more special. Despite the undercurrent of unspoken feelings and occasional pangs of longing, I knew I was surrounded by friends who had my back, and for now, that was enough.

Suddenly, the room dimmed slightly, and all eyes turned toward Emily as she stepped forward, her hands raised gracefully. With a knowing smile, she began to weave intricate patterns in the air, each movement creating trails of shimmering light. The room filled with gasps of awe as the lights morphed into a dazzling display of magic and fireworks.

Celestial flowers bloomed in mid-air, their petals made of pure starlight. Comets streaked across the ceiling, leaving glittering tails in their wake. The colors were beyond earthly comprehension, a blend of hues that seemed to sing to the soul. As Emily continued her enchanting performance, the hall transformed into a dreamscape of light and wonder.

Aramel and Charlotte watched in awe beside me, their faces illuminated by the brilliant display. “She always outdoes herself,” Aramel whispered, his eyes wide.

“Yeah, she’s like the Picasso of light shows,” Charlotte added, her gaze fixed on the spectacle above.

Around us, the other angels reacted in various ways. Some danced beneath the celestial canopy, their movements fluid and joyful. Others chatted animatedly, their voices rising and falling with the rhythm of the light show. Many continued to eat and drink, toasting to the beauty and magnificence surrounding them.

I glanced toward the center of the room, where Michael stood, his presence commanding yet approachable. He was surrounded by a group of angels, all eager to speak with him and bask in his radiance. My heart tugged with a mix of admiration and longing. I wanted to approach him, to share a moment, but he was already enveloped in a sea of admirers.

Aramel nudged me gently. “Thinking about making your move?”

I sighed, a small smile tugging at my lips. “I was, but it looks like he’s a bit busy.”

Charlotte gave me a sympathetic look. “He always draws a crowd. But hey, if anyone can get his attention, it’s you. Just wait for the right moment.”

I nodded, appreciating their encouragement. For now, I decided to simply enjoy the celebration. The light show continued, casting a magical glow over everything and everyone. The air was filled with a sense of unity and joy, a perfect reflection of Heaven’s eternal glory. 

Perfect. That word keeps lingering in my mind. Surrounded by the laughter and music, I couldn’t shake the feeling of being out of place. It was as if I was a puzzle piece that didn’t quite fit, a discordant note in the symphony of perfection.

Lost in my thoughts, I barely noticed when Michael approached me, his voice barely audible over the din of the crowd. It took me a few seconds to register his presence.

“Gabriela,” he said, his voice soft but insistent. “Can we speak privately in the gardens?”

I blinked, startled out of my reverie. “Oh, yes, of course.”

As we made our way to the garden outside the banquet hall, I could feel the curious stares of Aramel and Charlotte burning into my back. Their smirks and playful gestures were not lost on me, but I pushed aside their antics, focusing instead on the enigmatic archangel at my side.

Once we were alone in the tranquil garden, Michael turned to me, his expression grave yet gentle. “Gabriela, I couldn’t help but notice that something seems to be troubling you. Is everything alright?”

I hesitated, unsure of how to articulate the turmoil raging within me. “I... I suppose I’m just feeling a bit... overwhelmed. Everything here is so perfect, and yet...”

“And yet, you feel as if you don’t belong,” Michael finished, his eyes understanding. “I know the feeling all too well.”

I looked up at him, surprised by his admission. “You do?”

He nodded, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Even in Heaven, there are moments when we question our place in the grand design. But I believe that each of us has a purpose, a unique role to play in the divine tapestry. Perhaps you just haven’t discovered yours yet.”

His words resonated with me, offering a glimmer of solace amidst the uncertainty. “Thank you, Michael. That... that means a lot.”

He reached out, his hand warm and reassuring on my shoulder. “Anytime, Gabriela. You’re not alone in this journey.”

In a fleeting moment, the depth of Michael's gaze revealed a vulnerability that stirred something deep within me. It was as if he carried a secret, a hidden longing that yearned to be shared. For an instant, our eyes locked, and I felt a connection that transcended words—a silent exchange of unspoken truths and unexplored desires.

In that moment, it felt as though he wanted to confess something, to bridge the gap between us and lay bare the emotions that simmered beneath the surface. But like a fleeting dream, the vulnerability vanished as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by a mask of composure and professionalism.

“You’re one of the best guardian angels I’ve had the privilege to train,” he said, his voice gentle yet firm. “You take your work seriously, and it shows. I appreciate your dedication and your unwavering commitment.”

I nodded, grateful for his words of praise, but secretly disappointed. “Thank you, Michael.”

Michael turned his gaze to the duck pond in the garden, where the water shimmered under the soft light of the moon. Ducks glided gracefully across the pond's surface, creating gentle ripples that spread outward.

He smiled, though there was a hint of sadness in his eyes. “You remind me of someone I once knew, someone who was dear to me. I lost them a long time ago, and since then, I’ve made it my mission to protect all those under my guidance, to ensure they never fall into the same fate.”

I felt a pang of sympathy for him, sensing the weight of his unspoken sorrow. 

It wasn't a big secret in Heaven that Michael's twin brother, Lucifer, was once very close to him. Their bond was legendary until Lucifer was cast out of Heaven for causing the Great Betrayal, a moment that changed the course of history forever. However, I was created many years after Lucifer's exile and had only heard stories of those tumultuous times.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” I said softly. “And I admire your strength and your determination to prevent others from suffering the same fate.”

Michael nodded, his expression somber yet resolute. “Thank you, Gabriela. It’s a duty I take very seriously. And with guardians like you by my side, I know that together, we can make a difference.” 

We turned our attention back to the duck pond and stood together in peaceful silence, watching the ducks. 

As Michael watched the pond, I turned to admire his white skin, a signature look of the archangels, gleaming in the moonlight. The red circles on his cheeks, his signature eternal blush, stood out vividly against his pale complexion, adding a touch of warmth to his otherwise ethereal appearance. We continued to stand in silence, observing the family of ducks as they floated effortlessly on the water's surface.

I contemplated whether now was the moment to confess my feelings to Michael, to end my inner turmoil. Even if my feelings weren't reciprocated by him, sharing them might bring me some relief. The tranquil setting, the gentle sounds of the ducks, and the soft glow of the moon created an atmosphere of intimacy that seemed perfect for such a revelation

Just as I was about to confess, we are interrupted by a small sheep cherub. She fluttered eagerly towards us, her innocent face contorted with urgency as she delivered her message to Michael. 

"Michael! Oh, pardon the interruption, but there's an emergency meeting, and you're needed immediately!"

Michael excused himself politely. “Thank you, Keenie. Looks like the party's cut short for me, Gabriela, but that's the life of an archangel”  His expression was apologetic as he offered me a fleeting smile.

As he soared off to address the emergency, Keenie's innocent facade crumbled the instant Michael's back was turned, her gaze turning icy as it lingered on me. There was a jealousy simmering beneath her surface, palpable enough to send a shiver down my spine. With a pointed glare, she flew off after Michael, leaving me alone in the bustling garden, the weight of her unspoken animosity lingering in the air.

I brushed off Keenie’s hostility, and I decided to explore the garden, to clear my mind. The pathways were lined with blooming flowers, their sweet fragrance mingling with the crisp night air. Twinkling fairy lights hung from the trees, casting a soft, magical glow on everything around me. I wandered deeper into the garden until I reached the edge, where the garden's boundaries met the vast expanse of Heaven's city.

Peering over the edge, I was greeted with a breathtaking sight. The entire city was alive with celebration. Fireworks burst in brilliant colors across the night sky, their dazzling displays reflected in the rivers of golden light that flowed through the streets below. Winners and heavenborn danced joyfully in the squares, their movements graceful and free, while music filled the air, a harmonious symphony that seemed to emanate from every corner of the city.

With a deep breath, I turned away from the edge and made my way back to the banquet. The music grew louder and the laughter more infectious as I approached. I quickly spotted Aramel and Charlotte engaged in animated conversation, their faces alight with mirth.

"Well, well, well, look who's back from her little rendezvous in the garden," Aramel teased, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. 

Charlotte joined in with a knowing smirk. "Oh, don't try to play innocent, Gabby. We saw the way Michael was looking at you."

I rolled my eyes, trying to suppress a blush. "Oh, please. It was nothing. Just a conversation."

Aramel leaned in closer, his voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper. "Just a conversation, huh? With Michael? Alone? In the moonlit garden?"

Charlotte nodded in agreement. "Sounds awfully romantic to me."

I couldn't help but laugh at their playful teasing. "Trust me, it was anything but romantic. We were interrupted by a cherub."

Their eyebrows shot up in surprise. "A cherub?" Aramel exclaimed.

Charlotte chimed in, her tone incredulous. "What was the cherub doing interrupting your moment with Michael?"

I shrugged, still bemused by the unexpected turn of events. "Looked like Michael was needed elsewhere urgently. But whatever it was, the cherub definitely killed the mood."

Charlotte chimed in with a mischievous glint in her eye. "Well, if the party's over here, why don't we continue the celebration at my place? I've got some delicious red wine waiting to be uncorked."

Aramel grinned, his excitement evident. "Sounds like a plan to me. Nothing like a little impromptu gathering to keep the festivities going."

I nodded eagerly, the prospect of continuing the night's revelry with my friends too tempting to resist. "Count me in. Lead the way, Charlotte."

With laughter and excitement, we made our way out of the bustling banquet hall, eager to extend the night's festivities in the comfort of Charlotte's home.

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

Hours later, the three of us found ourselves sprawled out on a fluffy cloud in Charlotte's celestial residence, empty wine bottles scattered haphazardly around us. The room was filled with the soft glow of moonlight, casting a serene aura over our intoxicated forms.

Charlotte hoisted her half-empty wine glass in a tipsy salute. Her robe was stained with wine. "To impromptu parties and nights that'll make the cherubs jealous!" 

Aramel chortled, clinking his glass against hers with a slosh. His face was red and happy. "A-men tuo tha-t! *hiccup* Let's shope our librers can forgib ush in the mornin'”

I joined in with a hiccup, the euphoria of the evening making me feel like I was floating on, well, a cloud. "And here's to never forgetting the night we got so drunk, we mistook stars for pillowcases!"

As we drifted off into a drunken slumber, the echoes of our laughter mingled with the gentle rustle of celestial winds, a testament to the enduring bond of friendship that had brought us together on this unforgettable Parade night.

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

Thank you for reading the first chapter! The other chapters are also available on AO3 !

Next chapter: The Extermination

[niftybucklesblog]

The Children of Lir

Today’s topic at #FairytaleTuesday on X is on Siblings and what better siblings than the children of Lir an Irish folktale.

Art by Sheila MacGill-Callahan

THE CHILDREN OF LIR: AN IRISH LEGEND

There was a time in ancient Ireland when the people believed in magic and in druids and spells. These were the days of the Tuatha De Danann tribe, the Goddess Danu and of Lir, the lord of the sea.

Lir’s wife, Eva, had given him four beautiful children. The two eldest, Fionnuala and Aodh, went swimming in a small lake. But these were no ordinary swimmers! They possessed gills for breathing and webbed feet as they were, after all, the offspring of ‘the ruler of the land beneath the waves’.

They met a messenger who told them that they were wanted by their father. They went home immediately only to find their father disturbed.

‘What is wrong father?’ they enquired ‘Your mother has given birth to twins’ he replied ‘….and has gone off to rest’ ‘What do you mean father?’ they asked

Lir explained that this was what humans called ‘death’ but that since they were immortal that their mother had gone to recover, possibly for a thousand years or more. The children were to look after the new brothers, Fiachra and Conn.

The children kissed their mother for the last time and then left.

As the children grew Lir’s spirits declined until one day he met Aoife, the sister of his wife. Aoife was possessed of magical powers and soon enough it was known that she and Lir would marry. The new family thrived under the influence of their new mother but not for long as guilt and jealousy about the children’s real mother took its toll on Aoifes health. She fell into sickness for a year but recovered only to start to become old before here time.

Aoife was a changed woman now and one day suggested that she and the children should visit their grandfather. On the journey they stopped by a lake and she encouraged the children to go for a swim. The four children played happily in the water, not noticing that their stepmother was now standing at the waters edge wearing her fathers magic cloak.

‘For too long you children have stood between your father and I, but not for much longer!’ she cried

‘We cannot be killed by you…’ Aodh replied, ‘…we are the Children of Lir and if you harm us our ghosts will haunt you!’

‘I’m not going to kill you…..’ she shouted ‘……but I am going to change you!’

At this she bowed her head and started an incantation. The children looked at each other in fear as they saw a red and gold circle envelope them on the water. They saw Aoife open up her cloak from which the great light of a fireball emerged and hurtled towards them, burning all in its wake.

The fireball hit the water and caused masses of steam to rise about the children and they soon lost all feeling in their legs, arms, shoulders and head. They soon regained their sight only to see Aoife laughing at them. Aodh tried to attack her and flailed his arms about furiously but nothing happened except the splashing of water. He turned to look at his brothers and sister only to see that they had all been turned into the most beautiful swans ever seen.

Aoife scowled at them again and told them that they were to spend nine hundred years as swans, three hundred on Lough Derravaragh, three hundred on the Straits of Moyle and three hundred on the Isle of Inish Glora. To end the spell they would have to hear the bell of the new God.

‘I leave you with your voice however, and the most beautiful singing ever heard’ she said.

Lir searched for his children that day, but Aoife told him that they had been attacked and killed by wild boars. Fionnuala, now in swan form, approached her father and told him what Aoife had done. Lir was furious and banished Aoife into exile as an evil demon of the air.

Lir faithfully visited his children and the power of his love ensured that their time on the lake was one of bliss. He knew though that the 300 years of the first phase had passed and that the next phase of the spell was about to begin. The swans left for the Straits of Moyle, never to see their father again.

Their time on the Northern Straits of Moyle were not so joyous, with frequent storms separating them, only for they to join up again. Another 300 years passed but they had survived together.

They departed the cold straits and made their way towards Lough Derravaragh. They flew over the land, hoping to find their father’s fort, but it was now nothing more than ruins. They wept because they knew the time of the Tuatha De Danann was gone.

They travelled West to the waters of Inish Glora and found refuge on a small saltwater lake where time passed slowly. One day an old man named Mochua visited the lake and the children enquired of him if he was a follower of the new God. The startled man asked if they were the children of Lir and they told him that they were.

‘Are you a holy man?’ asked Fiacra. ‘I am…’ came the reply.

The children knew that to break the spell that they would have to hear the bell of a new God toll in their own land.

Mochua told them all about his new God and all about Saint Patrick who had brought his faith to their country.

The children became excited as they knew that this was the new God their stepmother had told them of. They stayed with Mochua for many years who gave them sanctuary in a small chapel which he had built. He intended to make a bell and collected old swords, shields and other metal to make it. The bell was now completed and was about to be rung when another disaster occurred.

A Warrior dressed in armour entered the chapel. He had come for the children who were famed for their wonderful singing.

‘I am Liargren, King of Connaught’ he shouted, ‘My wife desires those swans and I will have them. Give them here or I will tear this building down.’

Fionnuala looked at Mochua and then said that they would agree to go away with this King. Liargen was amazed to hear her speak but soon composed himself and ordered his men to take the children away. They were being loaded onto a carriage when suddenly, the church bell tolled loudly.

Time seemed to stand still, but in another instant a great white mist had been blown off the nearby lake and enveloped the children as it had done 900 years before. The mist changed into all of the colours of the rainbow before a great wind gusted it away.

The children had at last been transformed back into human form.

Liagren fled immediately, never to return. Mochua baptized the beautiful children who had begun to age rapidly and so it was that the children of Lir, the last of the Tuatha De Danann died soon afterwards, their legend to live on forever.

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[emospritelet]

Communion - chapter 3/4

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4 Ch 1] [Part 4 Ch 2]  [AO3]

81: “Come sit by the fire”

x

Belle was disoriented when she woke, the bed at the inn harder than she was used to and the grey light of dawn coming from the wrong place. It took several minutes before she realised it was Christmas Day, and she ran her hands over her face with a yawn. Going to the window, she could see that fresh snow had fallen in the night, a smooth layer of pristine white over what had already lain on the ground, and she shivered a little. The sky was clear, the sun just starting to rise, and it looked as though the day would be fine, if cold. Perfect for going to see the father of her child to discuss what they were going to do to plan for its arrival. Which according to him included lessons in Latin and the identification of poisonous fungi.

She had slept poorly, mind working through what Gold had said to her about who and what he was, and what their child would be. Shock. It must have been shock at the news. There was no other explanation she could think of for what he had said, other than him deliberately making fun of her, and she hadn’t thought he was that sort of man. Hopefully a night to digest her news would have made him more inclined to have a serious discussion about the future.

Taking a shower made her feel better, and she dressed in a warm woollen dress and thick tights above heavy boots, brushing out clean, shining hair. She was too nervous to feel hungry, but she was aware that the baby wanted food, even if she didn’t, so she ate some toast and butter and drank three cups of tea. The diner was quiet, the only other occupant a stocky man with a bristling beard. He was ploughing his way through a plate of eggs and bacon, a cup of coffee steaming by his side, and had the heavy eyes and surly expression of the hungover. Belle elected not to disturb him.

When she stepped out of the diner, the air was cold enough to make her catch her breath, and she shivered, pushing her chin down into her scarf as she walked. She was surprised to find Gold’s shop locked and silent, and after peering through the windows with no sign of him, chewed her lip in frustration. He had said he would be doing inventory, but perhaps his late start was a nod to the holiday. Or perhaps he was at home, wherever that was, quietly panicking over becoming a parent.

It was too cold to stand around and wait, so she decided to explore the town a little before trying the shop again, and set off at a brisk walk. The street of shops gave way to tree-lined avenues, and a pleasant, snow-covered park. A church poked its steeple out of the trees, a rough stone wall surrounding a cemetery. Belle could see a pretty old building beyond, which she expected was the home of the priest. She pushed her hands deep into the pockets of her coat and walked on.

“Lacey! Lacey!”

Belle glanced around at the sound of running feet, and yelped as a man skidded towards her on the icy sidewalk, tripping and almost falling into her. They grasped at one another to keep their balance, and she found herself looking into an earnest pair of brown eyes in a thin face, brown hair flopping over a forehead creased by lines of worry. The man who had collided with her was dressed all in black, except for a priest’s white collar, and was smiling at her.

“Lacey,” he said breathlessly. “I thought it was you.”

His accent was very Scottish, even more so than Gold’s, and there was an air of excitement about him, an energy that was almost infectious. He was beaming at her, and it made her want to smile back, even if he had mistaken her for someone else.

“Oh, I’m - I’m not Lacey,” she said, and his smile widened.

“You’re going by Belle again?” he asked. “No matter. Your choice, of course. I didn’t realise you were back in Storybrooke.”

“I…” She was about to say it was her first time, but he cut across her, excitement making his words bubble over.

“I just wanted you to know that ever since we met, my life has changed for the better in so many ways,” he said. “I stopped drinking! Just - just stopped, like it was nothing! I never thought I would do that: I was always too scared to try, but ever since - well, ever since—” He pulled a face, looking awkward “—ever since you, I haven’t touched a drop!”

“Er…” Belle was at a loss for words. “Uh - well done!”

“And it’s just made everything so much better,” he went on. “I was feeling so - so lost, like I told you, and it’s like you helped me find myself again!”

“That’s - that’s wonderful!” she said, feeling desperately awkward that he was pouring out his soul to the wrong woman. Perhaps she and this Lacey looked similar, and he had met the other woman while drunk. It would explain why he had them mixed up. Whoever Lacey was, she must have been a force for good, to help this priest find his way again.

“I have to go,” he said, glancing back at the church. “I have Mass at ten.”

“Oh, of course,” said Belle. “Don’t wait around in the cold on my account, Father.”

He grinned broadly, white teeth shining in the morning sun, breath steaming in the air.

“Thank you!” he said fervently. “I mean that, Lacey - uh, Belle - from the bottom of my heart. Thank you!”

He cupped her face with freezing hands and kissed her forehead. 

“Thank you,” he whispered, and then he was gone, hurrying up the street to the church.

Belle gazed after him, brow wrinkled in confusion. This is a very strange town.

She walked on, past the cemetery and towards the edge of town, where the trees grew thick, the bare trunks of birch and maple in amongst thick evergreens. In the distance, the sound of a car engine grew louder, an unpleasant, low roaring in the peaceful morning, and Belle glanced at the road ahead, eyes widening as an old black car she didn’t recognise came swerving into view. There was some sort of rock music blaring from it, which cut off abruptly as it squealed to a stop on the road just ahead of her.

Belle wasn’t sure who she had expected to step out of the car, but it certainly hadn’t been Roni and the blonde woman she had seen in the bar two nights previously. The blonde had a determined look on her face, and she fixed Belle with the light of fervour in her eyes. Roni’s expression, in contrast, was somewhat resigned and wary, and she kept glancing around nervously as she drew nearer.

“Belle,” said the blonde woman firmly. “I don’t believe Roni introduced us the other evening. My name is Emma.”

“Uh…” Belle glanced between the two of them. “Hi?”

Emma smiled warmly, reaching for her hand, and immediately let out a yelp as a spark of electricity snapped between them.

“What the heck!” she spluttered, shaking her fingers.

“Protection spell,” said Roni. “I thought as much. Don’t touch her again, you’ll only hurt yourself.”

“Huh?” said Belle, bewildered. “Protection what now?”

“Belle, please listen to me,” said Emma urgently. “After a great deal of persuasion—” She frowned at Roni. “I managed to find out what happened to you, and I want you to know we’re here to help.”

“Hey, leave me out of this,” said Roni hastily. “I agreed to give you a ride, that’s it.”

“What - what is it you think I need help with?” asked Belle, confused.

“The child you’re carrying,” said Emma. “You know it’s not human, right?”

“I - what?” Belle shook her head. 

“Oh, real subtle,” said Roni sarcastically, folding her arms. “You said you’d break it to her gently!”

“Do you have a better way to tell someone their child is a demon?”

“I don’t know, maybe at least sit her down and make her a chamomile tea first?”

“You think chamomile tea is gonna soften the blow?”

“No, I think a decent shot of whisky would, but you can’t exactly give it to a pregnant woman!”

Emma threw up her hands, clearly frustrated.

“Why did you even agree to come here with me?”

“Because you can’t damn well drive!” snapped Roni. “And you have no idea what subtlety is! Left to your own devices, you’d probably turn up at Gold’s house with a bunch of angels and try to fucking smite him!”

“I would not!” 

“I thought if I brought you here myself, maybe we could sneak in and sneak out without him finding out,” Roni went on. “You seem intent on making everything ten times harder!”

“Roni, you’re being no help whatsoever, do you know that?”

“May I remind you that coming here was your idea?” said Roni. “And that it’s me who’s trespassing in this town? I told you how our kind reacts to territorial incursions, right?”

“Yeah, but I figured you were over-reacting!”

“She wasn’t.”

Gold’s voice, flat and deadly calm, made them all jump, and Belle shook her head in disbelief. He had appeared out of nowhere, a faint mist swirling around his feet as he glared at the two women. There was a faint hint of sulphur in the air, and she could almost see his hackles rise as his eyes found Emma. They were dark with fury, boring into her as she faced him down.

“Get out of this town!” he hissed. “This is my domain, angel!”

“I don’t see your name on it, demon,” said Emma, raising her chin. “There’s a convent here. That gives me equal footing with you.”

Gold let out a hollow laugh, mouth twisting in a nasty smile.

“You think the righteous outnumber the rest of us, do you?” he said. “Please. I could tell you tales about that convent that would give you nightmares. At least I don’t pretend to be a force for good.”

“No, you just pretend to be human.”

“I’m more human than you, dear,” he said acidly. “I came into this world just as any human does. I enjoy the pleasures this world offers, just as any human does.”

“Oh, I just bet you do…” 

“But there again perhaps such things are beneath you, celestial being that you are,” he went on. “Probably survive on nauseating self-righteousness.”

“I’ll take self-righteousness over evil any day of the week,” she said witheringly, and Gold showed his teeth.

“As I thought,” he drawled. “Every bit as judgemental as all angels I’ve had the displeasure to meet.”

“You’re a demon, it’s my job to judge you!”

“Everybody stop talking!” shouted Belle.

There was a moment of silence. All three of them turned to face her, and the look of rage drained from Gold’s face, his expression turning soft and sad-eyed. She put her hands on her hips.

“What the hell is up with everyone?” she demanded. “Is this some elaborate joke I’m not in on? Why the hell are you all talking about angels and demons and good and evil and - and my baby not being human?”

“Belle.” Gold’s voice was gentle, and Emma gave him an odd, sideways look. “I’ve been trying to tell you that. I told you what I was.”

“Stop it!” she snapped. “It’s not funny! I’m - I’m pregnant, and - and it’s Christmas, and - and somehow you’re all making fun of me, and it’s mean!”

“We’re not!” protested Roni.

“I don’t understand what’s wrong with you people!” she went on. “Just - just stop being weird, all of you! Right now!”

Gold sighed, and exchanged a glance with Roni, who shrugged in a defeated manner.

“Show her,” she said, and he winced.

“She won’t like it.”

“You ashamed of what you are, or something?” said Emma dryly. “Because from where I’m standing that would seem like personal growth.”

“Oh, I moved past that a long time ago, angel,” he said, his tone very even. “I’m just very aware of human aesthetics, and I doubt Belle’s idea of the perfect human form includes me.”

“How do you know?” asked Roni. “She went to bed with you, didn’t she?”

“Yes, like this!” he snapped, waving a hand up and down himself.

“Like I said.” Emma curled her lip at him. “Ashamed.”

“Easy for you to pick up on, is it?” he said snidely. “Shame is your stock in trade, is it not?”

“Just as - as lust is yours!” she countered, and Gold grinned.

“Well, I know which I prefer.”

“Would you two stop sniping at each other?” snapped Roni. “Gold, don’t pretend you’re suddenly suffering a crisis of confidence. Maybe you’ve been in human form so long you’ve forgotten how pretty your other form is.”

“Oh, I’m sure that humans are known for their love of wings and tails on romantic partners,” he said sarcastically. “You know as well as I that no one but our own kind finds that attractive.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” muttered Emma, and Roni gave her a sharp look before turning her attention back to Gold.

“I told you from the first that you’re underestimating her,” she said. “Belle is - unique. You saw that about her, right?”

Gold smiled slightly.

“True.” 

“Stop talking about me as though I’m not here!” said Belle petulantly. “And - and stop talking nonsense! Are you all drunk?”

“Dammit, Gold, just show her, would you?” snapped Roni.

“Show me what?”

Belle felt like stamping her foot, her heart thumping with a mix of anger and frustration, and Gold let out a sigh, turning on his toes to face her.

“Belle,” he said gently. “I have to show you something.”

“Yeah, so I hear!” she snapped. “What the hell is it?”

Emma snorted, and Roni gave her a flat look. Gold sighed heavily.

“Don’t be afraid, alright?” he added.

Belle folded her arms.

“I’m not afraid,” she said evenly. “I’m annoyed. Whatever it is you have to show me, bloody well get on with it.”

Gold muttered under his breath, then shrugged out of his suit jacket, tossing it to Roni, who caught it and narrowed her eyes as he went to work on his tie.

“Seriously?” she said. “You’re getting naked in the freezing cold? I really doubt that’s gonna add to the impressiveness of your physique.”

“This is an expensive suit,” he said in an aggrieved tone.

“So just poof it off.”

Gold’s hands stilled.

“Oh,” he said, and glanced over his shoulder at Emma. “Best avert your eyes, angel. I’d hate to tempt you.”

Emma made a gesture that was far from angelic, and folded her arms.

“Just wanting to point out that I’ve already seen you naked,” said Belle dryly. 

“You have,” he said, lifting a hand and spreading his fingers. “But not like this.”

“Like what?”

Gold swept a hand down the front of his torso, and a cloud of red smoke enveloped him, making Belle jump in surprise. Her heart was pounding, her breath coming hard in her chest, and she watched the smoke thin and drift apart, wisps clearing to reveal what was unmistakably Gold, and yet not. His skin was covered from head to foot in tiny golden scales, his fingernails black, his eyes gleaming gold, reptilian and ancient. Two large, bat-like wings unfurled behind him, stretching outwards as though stiff from lack of use, and a long, tapered tail lashed the air. Belle stumbled back, eyes wide with shock, and her arms flailed as she lost her balance and toppled backwards into the snow.

“Belle!”

Immediately he was by her side, cradling her in his arms.

“Are you hurt?” he asked anxiously.

He was himself again, once more immaculate in his suit and tie, his skin as soft and pink and human as it had ever been. Belle struggled in his grip, and he released her, squatting on his heels as she pushed to her feet and backed away from him, her breath coming in rapid, frightened pants. Her heart was thumping painfully, pulse throbbing in her ears and behind her eyes, and her outstretched finger wavered as she pointed at him.

“You,” she said haltingly. “You - you…”

“Yes,” he said quietly.

She shook her head.

“No,” she said. “No. No no no.”

“Yes.”

His voice was a whisper, a breath in the air, and she went on shaking her head, as though that would somehow dispel the strange dream she appeared to have wandered into. Gold rose to his feet slowly, as though swift movements would scare her, and extended a hand to take hers. Belle pulled away abruptly, almost jumping out of reach.

“I can’t,” she said. “I - I can’t…”

She turned on her heel, walking blindly back towards the town, her mind a maelstrom.

“Belle, wait!”

She held up a hand, fingers splayed, a blocking motion shutting them all out.

Gold watched her go, feeling strangely powerless, and Roni inched closer, until she was standing by his side.

“That went well,” she observed, and he shot her a sideways look.

“Are you still here?”

“Looks like it.”

He waited for her to say something, but she simply stood there in silence. It was almost as though she pitied him. Or at least that she could empathise. He glanced over his shoulder at where the angel was looking down her nose at him, and turned his back one more.

“What are you doing hanging out with a bloody angel, anyway?” he demanded.

“Oh, like you cornered the market in cross-species relationships, or something?”

“Yes, but an angel?”

Roni shrugged.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but we happen to share a number of common interests.” She glanced around. “Look, Emma’s probably not gonna leave town until we’re sure Belle’s okay. Is that going to be a problem?”

Gold turned slowly, swivelling on the toes of his shoes. The angel - Emma - raised her chin defiantly, blonde hair gleaming in the winter sun, and he sighed, shoulders slumping. I don’t have the energy for this.

“Just stay out of my way,” he said wearily, and disappeared in a plume of red smoke, leaving behind the faint smell of sulphur.

x

He had intended to spend the day in his shop, but instead he went home to pour himself a glass of brandy and brood. Belle was still in town, he knew that much. He would feel it if she left.

Thinking about it logically, he wasn’t sure what he had expected, but Roni was right: he had seen something different in Belle. He was the first to admit that picking up on human jokes was something he had never been very good at, but his conversation with her in the bar had felt genuine. After all, he had heard countless tales of humans who enjoyed the thrill of bedding a demon, who would willingly let one into their dreams, and later into their beds. He had met many of them himself, over the years. None of them wanted to see the demon’s true form, of course, but they still got off on the danger. He hadn’t thought Belle one of those shallow creatures, but he hadn’t realised that she had thought him fully human either. 

There was something about her, he reflected, something that went far beyond her beauty and intelligence, and her kind heart. Something that held his interest far more than any other human he had met. She was different. Even if she didn’t fully realise it yet. Most humans could sense the darkness in him, and avoided him, even if they didn’t understand why. But Belle had sought him out. Belle had wanted him. Perhaps he simply needed to give it some time. Perhaps she would return.

x

Dusk had fallen when the knock came. 

He glanced up, brandy glass hanging from his fingers, his body grown stiff from the length of time he had been sitting in his chair. The knock came again, and a spark of something like hope took life in him. It wasn’t Roni, and it wasn’t the angel either, he could sense that much. Hopefully they would stay out of his way for the duration of their visit; he really wasn’t in the mood for a showdown. Which left only one possible visitor.

He pulsed out of his chair, rolling his shoulders as he walked to the hallway. The third knock was rapid and insistent, and he quickened his pace a little as he reached the door. 

It had been snowing again, and Belle was covered in a light dusting of flakes, her cheeks pink with the cold. She was bouncing on her toes, looking nervous, but she fell back on her heels as he appeared, her expression shifting between caution and relief.

“Hey,” she said, and he smiled faintly.

“Hey,” he said. “You must be freezing.”

“Yeah.” She sniffed. “I - uh - went for a long walk.”

“And you found your way here?” he said. Belle wrinkled her nose.

“Everyone in town seems to know where you live,” she said. “But they were pretty reluctant to give me the address. Kept telling me to stay away, like I’d suffer some terrible fate.”

“That sounds about right,” he said wearily, and she shrugged.

“Yeah, well, no one decides my fate but me,” she said. “Can I come in?”

Gold smiled, and stepped back, holding open the door.

“Of course,” he said. “Come sit by the fire.”

[princessasmosprincess]

Charmed, I'm Sure

Chapter 7

Summary: No human has ever avoided Asmodeus's charm. Except for you.

Pairing: Asmodeus x GN Reader/MC

Genre: Drama, angst

Warnings: Blood, suggestive content.

***

You trailed behind Asmo, dazed. There was blood on your face that wasn't yours. Blood on your wrist from Asmo’s hand.

“I hope you know I ruined my new outfit for you,” said Asmo bitterly. “Demon blood doesn't wash out of clothes easily.” If he could get his laundry to the Demon King’s castle, maybe Barbatos could get the stains out. But Barbatos would be sure to tell Lucifer. It would be better to ditch the clothes before going home.

There was a fountain in the middle of the square with a statue of a three legged crow. Asmo swirled his hands in the water to clean off the blood.

“You didn't kill him, did you?” Your voice trembled as you asked the question.

“No,” Asmo smirked. “Should I have?”

You shook your head.

“I’m sorry,” you said. You looked into the fountain. The water seemed to glow bright blue. “He caught me off guard when I was trying to find you. I didn't think he– he would– I shouldn't have–” your lip started to quiver and your vision blurred. Asmo’s handprint in blood still circled your wrist so you plunged your hand into the water to wash it off.

“Ahh!” The water was almost boiling hot, it shocked you out of your panic attack.

“What are you doing?” Asmo shrieked, pulling your hand out of the water.

“I was just trying to clean the blood off like you did!” You held your hand close to your heart, anticipating for the pain to start any moment now. “I didn't know the water would be so hot.”

“It’s the Devildom,” Asmo said, as if it should be obvious. “We’re right next to Hell, everything is hot here.”

You blinked back tears.

“Stay here.” Asmod ordered, looking away from you. “And don't touch anything.”

He ran across the street to Hell’s Kitchen, coming out a few moments later with a plastic cup full of ice.

“Here,” he said gruffly as he shoved the cup into your hands.

You reached your hand into the cup, allowing the ice to cool your burned skin.

“Thank you, Asmo,” you said quietly. “For saving me back there. And for the ice.”

Asmo sat on the edge of the fountain, admiring his reflection and fixing his mussed hair. “I did it for Mammon. He still owes me 150 Grimm, and I’ll never get it back if Lucifer kills him.”

“Well,” you shrugged, sitting down beside him. “Thank you for saving me anyway.” You wrapped your still trembling arms around yourself.

Asmo dipped his handkerchief into the water, then he shook it out for a moment to cool it. “Tell me if it’s too warm,” he said, touching the cloth to your face as he gently wiped the spots of blood away.

You just stared at him. For all his complaining over having to watch you, Asmo was being so considerate. This wasn't at all how you expected a demon to act.

“Falling for me?” He smirked again, but then his eyes shifted back to the crow on the fountain.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” said Asmo. “Actually, let me look at your hand, MC.”

“Ok,” you set the ice cup down on the ground.

Asmo gingerly took your hand in his own, his elegant fingers probing the red, angry skin. His touch was so gentle.

Neither of you breathed for a moment.

“There doesn't appear to be any blistering,” he said softly. “Does it hurt to move it?”

You wiggled your fingers slowly, “Not really,”

“Good,” Asmo stood up abruptly. “So we can go to Majolish.”

“Why?”

“You have Grimm right? Now that I’ve saved you twice today, you can make it up to me by buying me a new outfit.”

***

When you arrived at Majolish, most of the lights were out.

“Is it even open?” you asked. According to the chime of the city clock, it was almost midnight.

“Probably not,” Asmo pressed his hands to the door until a little gold flash erupted under his palms. “But I know the witch who owns it.” Asmo held the door open for you.

A witch sat at the front desk, flipping through tarot cards. She looked up as the little bell on the shop’s door sounded.

“Lisette!” said Asmo.

“Asmo! I had a feeling you would be coming in tonight.” She kissed Asmo on both cheeks and he returned the favor.

“Did your cards tell you?” He asked.

“No, Astaroth messaged me.”

“Oh…”

“He said something about a fight at The Fall? That’s not like you, Asmo.”

You and Asmo shared a look. The news had already spread so quickly. It was only a matter of time before Lucifer and the others found out.

“Just a suitor who was way out of line,” said Asmo coolly. “This is MC, by the way. They’re one of our human exchange students at RAD.” He pushed you forward.

“Pleased to meet you,” you said politely.

“The same to you, Dear,” Lisette smiled. She was young and pretty, but you'd noticed her eyes, as she’d looked you over, held the wisdom of hundreds of years. “I assume you two came in to buy some new clothes?”

Lisette eyed you and Asmo. Your own clothes were covered in demonus, but the blood stains were minimal. Asmo’s on the other hand… It looked like he had killed a small animal with his bare hands.

“Of course,” he checked his hair in a nearby mirror, messing with his bangs. He actually winked at his reflection. “I can't go home wearing these.”

“Well then look around to your heart’s content. I’ll stay open as long as you’re here.” Lisette sat down at the desk and looked over the cards she had pulled.

“Wonderful!” Asmo started walking deeper into the store. He turned back for a moment. “Lisette, do you happen to have a first aid kit on hand? MC had a little accident on the way over here.”

As Asmo tried on outfit after outfit, putting on a little fashion show, Lisette helped you wrap your hand with gauze after applying magical burn ointment.

“What do you think of this one, MC?” Asmo asked, posing dramatically.

“It looks great. Just like the last seven.” You were tired and you wondered how you would be able to stay awake during class tomorrow.

“Hm…” said Asmo. “I like this top but I think the pants on the last one show off my butt better.”

“Whatever you say,” you yawned.

“Yes I do think I’ll go with the other pants.” Asmo twirled in front of the mirror one last time. “It’s your turn, MC.”

You were starting to fall asleep sitting up. The adrenaline rush from earlier had subsided leaving you exhausted. Asmo looked like he could keep going for several more hours.

“Could you pick out something for me?” You asked him.

Asmo's eyes lit up. “Of course, Darling, do you have any particular style in mind?”

You shrugged. “Whatever you think will look good on me, I guess.”

Asmo clapped his hands. “This is so exciting! I won’t let you down, MC.”

Off he went, looking through the clothing racks and singing to himself.

You leaned against the desk, hoping Asmo would be quick. You didn't know if you could stay awake much longer.

Lisette shuffled the deck rhythmically as she looked over the three cards she had pulled. “Hmm…”

“What is it?” You said. “If you don't mind me asking.”

“These cards I pulled. The future I'm seeing is not mine.” She looked at you and then back at the cards. “I think they’re for you.”

“Really? But you pulled those cards before you even met me.”

“The future reveals itself in mysterious ways, my dear. I just relay what the cards, and the spirits, tell me,”said Lisette. “If you wish, I can read your fortune for you. Otherwise I’ll shuffle these cards back into the deck and you can let your future be a surprise.”

You stared at the cards for a moment. The middle card were big bold letters spelling DEATH. You had to know what it meant.

“Alright,” you said, “What do the cards say?”

“I will remind you, Mc, that the future is not set in stone. You always have an opportunity to change it with your choices. That being said, I've never done a reading that didn't come true eventually. Is this all ok with you?”

You glanced at the ominous card one more time. “Yes.”

“Then I’ll get started.” Said Lisette. “Your hand please, MC. I want to get a feel for your energy.”

You obeyed, placing your uninjured hand into Lisette’s. She closed her eyes as she interlocked her fingers with yours. Your pulse thrummed in your wrist.

Lisette’s eyes snapped open.

“Ah-ha,” she said, almost to herself.

You watched her expectantly.

Lisette held up the first card. It showed three swords plunging into a red heart. “I see heartache. A rejection of some sort has happened. Do you see the storm clouds behind the heart, MC?”

You nodded.

“A tempest is building up below the surface. Jealousy, perhaps. Or maybe fear.”

This was already off to a great start, you cringed inwardly. Lisette laid the card back down on the table and she picked up the next one. It was the Death card.

“Many people are frightened of this card, but it does not always indicate a deadly outcome.”

You weren't sure how that was possible. The illustration on the card had a distinct sense of foreboding. It showed a skeleton knight riding a horse through a field of the dead. A man, woman, and child knelt in front of the horse, pleading for their lives.

“Death often signifies change, a moment of transition. Something will tip the scales for you, and you must be ready for it. And MC…” she trailed off, as if trying to decide whether to tell you something. In the end she pressed on, “I do sense danger in your future.”

The third card showed a person standing before seven cups, each one containing a unique treasure. Lisette stared at the card for a long time, nodding to herself as she studied it.

“A choice must be made,” Lisette said. “Whether you decide to be selfish or selfless is up to you, MC.”

“I’m just trying to survive the school year,” you said.

Lisette looked you in the eye. “And survive you will, but only if you can see past the illusions before you.”

“What does that–”

“MC!” said Asmo. “I have the perfect thing for you to wear, come here.”

When you looked back at the desk, Lisette had swept up the cards and was already tucking them into a wooden box. It was clear she would not tell you anything else.

You followed Asmo to the 3 paneled mirror by the dressing rooms. He stood behind you, holding his outfit choice in front of your body.

“What do you think? Isn't it perfect?” He had chosen skin-tight jeans and a black and pale pink striped crop top. “I thought these hair clips would look just darling on you, as well.”

“I think…” You stared at your reflection, your eyes flicking over Asmo’s hopeful expression. “I do like it, only…”

“What?” Asmo frowned.

In truth, the outfit would be perfect for clubbing, but after tonight's incident you thought it would be a while before you returned to The Fall again. “Isn't the crop top a little much, or rather, not enough? We're just going home, after all.”

“I told you it’s always hot in the Devildom.” Said Asmo simply.

“How about we compromise,” you said, reaching for something on a nearby rack. “I’ll keep the jeans, but I’ll wear this top.”

You handed him a black sweater. The material was delicate but strong, and you liked the pattern woven into it.

Asmo raised an eyebrow, taking the sweater. He held it up in front of you as he had done before.

“Fine,” he said, looking over your choice. “But you're keeping the hair clips too.”

“Great,” you started to slip away but he wrapped his arms around you. It wasn't an unpleasant feeling.

“I could always help you get dressed,” He purred, his breath tickling your neck. “You don't want to injure your hand anymore than it already is.”

You blinked at him, displaying your gauze-wrapped hand. “I wasn't hurt that badly. I think it will go much quicker if I do it myself.”

You took the clothes from Asmo and got dressed quickly like you had promised. With a little magic woven in the fibers, everything fit you perfectly, as if it had been custom made for you. As you paid for the clothing, Lisette gave you a knowing look.

“Good luck,” she whispered as you and Asmo left Majolish.

***

Cross-posted on AO3

[yandere-sins]

Charred

Horrortober Day 7: Shock “You look like a deer caught in the headlights.”

Ah yes. Angels. Complicated beings, I love them. Randomizer sure gave me an interesting combination for this day, but I am not complaining :D Also, if you are one of the people leaving a comment on my posts, please just know you are everything. I love you ♥ Even if they are in the tags, I am so happy to read your thoughts and feelings, it really helps so much to stay positive and motivated! ;;

Warnings: Yandere, Kidnapping, Corrupted Angel, Mild violent outburst Characters: Simeon x Reader

Angels aren't human.

How could you have forgotten?

Running through this godforsaken hallway, you were constantly blinded by lights. Little remnants of Simeon's power, one you didn't know he had. "I should have known better," you thought as you shielded your eyes from another flash caused by an orb to your left. If only the holy magic Simeon was able to use wasn't that harmful to your vision. If only he wouldn't use it on you. If only you never let it come this far.

But how could you have known? You thought you two were friends and like-minded people when you got closer to Simeon as you two attended RAD as exchange students. You weren't that kind of sinner; you never gave yourself hope there could be anything beyond friendship. And you weren't looking for it either. But to dismiss his exalted status as well, that one was on you. Of course he could use magic that was dangerous to you, especially with how little Simeon could understand human emotions.

Sure, he could crack a smile at a joke, show sadness, and give comfort, but he only did what he learned to do, feigning his sympathy. He didn't mean to hurt anyone with it, but it just wasn't in him to feel as humans do, or else it was threatening to defile them. Angels aren't human, they couldn't feel emotions like you did, and when they did, well, this is what happened.

Simeon was a mess. He was beside himself, trying to figure out what was wrenching his body. Ironically, it had been Lucifer who warned you about this. He kept himself brief when talking about angels and corruption, not wanting to open his own wounds. But he still made a point to tell you that it was overwhelming and maddening to have lived for centuries and only then regaining an emotional conscience. It war pain. Suffering. A change that would take months and years to overcome.

And it was all the scarier how quiet it made Simeon.

He didn't tell you what was happening, and you didn't notice it, busy with your duties and the brothers. You should have seen it! You blamed yourself for not being more careful as his friend, but it was already too late. When he started to demand more of your time and attention, glaring at the others for taking up his space by your side, it should have rung some alarm bells. It was almost painfully obvious that him getting more touchy when you were together and antsy when you pulled away was a warning of what was to come. Maybe you chose to ignore it. Perhaps you thought your friendship could survive him being irrational and angry, snapping at you and others at times.

But by the time Simeon became what he wasn't supposed to be, he had already kidnapped you somewhere strange and magical, just as twisted and scary as he was now. It was like an endless dark, ancient castle. Rooms with high ceilings and tall windows looking into the nothingness around the building. The insides were decorated, but the colors everywhere were constantly shifting, nauseatingly so. Sometimes white, sometimes grey. Gold accents, then copper. The temperature was hot when you were awake and cold when you slept. You knew it was magical and tied to Simeon, but that made it all the more uncomfortable and scary. You didn't want to experience this. You never asked for it! Part of you knew what was going on, and it made the realization worse.

There had been moments of clarity in his eyes when you pleaded with him to get a grip, but they fogged over with emotions an angel shouldn't have. When you tried to reason with him, he got jealous over the argument that others would come looking at you. "You're mine!" he screamed, and then his eyes cleared as he regretted his words, leaving you alone abruptly before you could say another word. He was ashamed and scared, you had seen it in his expression, but he still came back as if nothing happened.

On the surface, he was still the Simeon you knew. The one you loved. But he was so quickly offended and angered by now that you only grew more worried every day. Suddenly he started locking your room or would sit and watch you sleep, and you were scared of this angel that wasn't an angel anymore.

So… you ran.

At the first opportunity, you ran. The hallway seemed endless, and you didn't know where you were going. Flashes went off every few steps, and you ran into a few amenities blindly. Even if it was pure madness and wouldn't help either of you, you couldn't do this. The longer you stayed, the worse Simeon got. You needed to find help for him—and for you. That was the only way. The others would know what to do! They could do something for Simeon that you weren't able to, give him stability and support him in these hard times. You were just a human and didn't know if Simeon could remain an angel after all that happened, but if he could, that's what you wished for him from the bottom of your heart. You never intended any of this to happen, and secretly, you didn't want to be the reason for it.

"AH!" with a loud shriek, you were caught by a slice of light right in front of you. It was like a slit opening up, but even brighter than the orbs that had exploded before that. You could recognize magic when you saw it by now. Simeon's magic. Flashy, dazzling, unbefitting of the tumult he was going through. Simeon was far stronger than you expected him to be, but you realized now that you took his calm and sweet demeanor for weakness, when really, it was mercy.

Tumbling backwards, you landed on your side, your arm throbbing as you slowly tried to get up again. It should have shocked you more to see the person slowly stepping out of the light, but you could barely see anyway, only recognizing the voice as he spoke up. "My, you look like a deer caught in the headlights."

Finally, the light shining at you terrifyingly bright vanished, leaving only you two behind in the warped hallway. It took you a few blinks to recover from it, tiny sparks flying through your vision when you looked up at Simeon. Other than the dark corridor, Simeon was wearing his pristine, white clothes. Pure and amiable. Nothing like the inner tumult he was battling, and still, he looked nothing like the Simeon you knew. The kind Simeon. The one you loved.

You feared he was already gone.

Around you, the colors of the castle shifted to nightmarish black while accents turned into a deep red, all while you and Simeon never broke eye contact. He was walking towards you, hand on his chest and smiling in greeting. You once loved his reassuring smiles, the encouraging message they delivered. But this one was menacing and cold, as was his voice when he spoke up again.

"Where are you going?" he asked curtly, right to the point. Biting your lip, you only looked away. You wanted to argue, but good could come out of that? When you cracked your room's lock, you thought it would take him longer to find out. Long enough for you to form a plan, but it only now crossed your minds that the lights you encountered could have been like security cameras for Simeon to check in the case you ever did break out.

"There is no leaving this place, my dove. You know this. Why are you testing me."

"Why are you keeping me here?" you asked the same question he ignored so many times. Though this time, he indeed had something to say to it.

"It's dangerous out there. Demons will get to you, blemish your skin with their marks and rob you of your life. Aren't you worried at all?"

"I'd like to see for myself what I can do out there," you retorted firmly. "I think you're losing it, Simeon. You are nothing like you were when we were students."

Confronting him may not have been the best idea as his once so kind eyes turned moody, smile turning into a frown as you mentioned the past. "No, I am better. I can protect you now. I take care of you. You owe me more respect if you think I've gone mad. The only thing making me mad is you!"

Gulping, you looked at him. He was prideful now too. It was painful for you.

Simeon was slipping further and further. Every passing second was destroying him.

"Simeon, please," you whispered, pleading with him from the bottom of your heart. "I want to help you! B-But I don't know how! I need help to help you, I need to get out!"

"You're not going anywhere," he decided, cutting his hand through the air in a gesture signaling finality to his word. Kneeling down before you, he pulled you roughly into his chest, pressing your head against him. If there was any good that came out of the change, perhaps it was how open he was now to touches. You longed for this, for something longer than just a hug when you two met. But your heart was throbbing out of devastation now, rather than jumping from joy.

"Please get help," you pleaded, gripping his clothes. "I won't leave you, but please ask the brothers or Lord Diavolo for help, Simeon!"

"Never say their names again," he hissed at you, an unfamiliar hostility in his voice that brought you to tears. But Simeon held you as you cried into his chest. His comfort wasn't helpful, but what else did you have to cling to? If not for him, you would be alone and abandoned in this realm, and you had to painfully admit that he was indeed taking care of you. Good care. In his own, twisted way.

While you were still crying, Simeon carried you back to your room, laid you in your bed, and tugged you in. He did so with a frown deeply lodged on his beautiful face, the wrinkles so unfitting for an angel. But a small hope remained inside of you that you crying would make him see reason. Instead, he sat by your bedside as you two stared at each other, eventually muttering that he was going to get you some food before leaning down and kissing your forehead. You hated this affection. Actually, you hated that it was under these circumstances.

When Simeon got up, he left you without another look back over his shoulders, and you sniffled, the tears never drying out as you looked after him. So cold, so… lonely. He was in pain too, he must have been. If only there was a way to reverse it. To make him see reason and to calm his aching. You wished you could have helped him, at least a little bit. As a human, was there nothing you could do? Maybe just take some of the sins he was living through! As normal as they were for you, they were killing him from the inside.

The intense light from before flashed up as he opened the door to your room, blinding and stinging in your eyes. Still, you were already crying, and it was hard to avoid your gaze from Simeon even now. It was the first time you noticed his wings, usually concealed by magic, but as he used them, they came into plain view. You had believed until the last second that maybe there was a way to help him. To save him from this. But you were a little wiser as you looked at the feathers sprouting from his back. His beautiful, large wings. 

Charred-black.

[nastybuckybarnes]

Hoist the Colours  -  1/3

Pairing: Pirate!Bucky X SeaGoddess!Reader

Summary: Bound to your human form and cut off from the sea, your life is exchanged from pirate to pirate, until a ship of the King intercepts a sale, taking you onboard and saving you from a fate worse than death. 

Warnings: Language, Angst, Fluff, Kinda slow burn

Word Count: 2.2K

A/n: I’ve had this sitting in my drafts for so long so I figured meh, what the hell. It’s mega inspired by Pirates of the Caribbean: At World’s End cause Calypso owns my uwu and I love the story of her and Davy Jones. Um, I hope you enjoy! 

~*~

His hands gently caress your skin, gentle with you, a stark contrast to the man who rules the seas. He treats you as if you're delicate, though he knows you're not.

His touches are so, so tender.

"I love you, my (Y/n)."

Fingers skimming over your back, trailing over your spine and down your legs. His hold on your body is soft, while the hold on your heart is strong.

"I love you, James.  My love for you will never die. You hold my heart in your hands." He holds the back of your head with one hand, tilting you back a bit so he can look into your eyes, crystal blue depths pouring out emotions while saying few words.

"You have my heart, and you shall continue to have it until the day I die."

~

“Are we ready to set sail, Captain?” The young man looks up through his lashes, squinting against the harsh sun and the spray of the sea.

“Aye, I think we’re ready. What say you, James?” The blond man looks to his first mate, who stands by the edge of the ship, staring out across the open water with a small smile on his face.

“The wind will be with us today. Our journey will be bountiful. There’s a change in the tide, a new dawn on the horizon.” Steve grabs his friend’s shoulder, looking into his eyes.

“I can feel her, Steve. We’re getting close. I know it.” The blond smiles and looks over to the boy, nodding once.

“All hands, prepare to make sail!” He shouts, running down the stairs to alert the rest of the crew.

Steve walks over to his helmsman, patting him on the shoulder.

“Where to today, Captain?” Sam asks with a grin.

“We head for Tortuga,” he says, glancing over at James. The brunet nods, eyes focused on the sea.

~*~

“All hands! Battle Stations!”

You shift to your knees on the hard wooden bed, looking out through the tiny porthole.

“What is it?” Wanda asks, her voice scratchy and hoarse.

“The Royal Navy,” you whisper, bound hands grabbing handfuls of your dress to move it out of the way, allowing you to sit more comfortably to watch as the three ships converge on the one you’re currently imprisoned upon.

“What will they make of us?” She wonders aloud, fingers spinning dainty red circles in the air. You bite your lip, knowing too well what they’ll make of you.

“Our chances of survival are higher with them than with our current captors.” She shrugs, lying back down as cannons boom overhead.

You close your eyes, exhaling deeply through your nose and conjuring what you can.

It’s effective, and the sky is soon booming with thunder. The ocean tugs and turns, waves crashing against the ship, the fighting getting drowned by the rain.

You hear the tell-tale thuds of the ship being boarded, and you know it’s only a matter of time before you’re transferred from one cage to another. But you hope that the new cage will be slightly more comfortable.

Two sets of feet clomp down the stairs and you and Wanda both sit up.

A man wearing the signature red and gold of the King walks towards you.

A young boy, easily no older than sixteen, stumbles after him.

“Boy!” He shouts, turning to him. He cowers, clearly not wanting to get hurt.

“Why are these women in chains?” He demands. The boy looks at you, his eyes widening for a moment before he swallows hard.

“C-cap’n says that they be witches. He locked ‘em down here to protect the crew. Said it bad luck to bed them.” The King’s man stares at you then at Wanda.

“Witches? How?” The boy’s fingers tremble as he points to Wanda.

“Th-that one there, she be a true witch. With red flames and a sixth sense. She can control men to do her bidding. Cap’n locked ‘er up with them special chains, keeps her powers at bay.” Wanda’s eyes glow a fiery red as she’s reminded of the mistreatment the Captain has shown the two of you.

��And this one here?” The man steps closer to your cell door, eyeing you closely.

“She be of godly descent. Power over the wind and tide, no doubt the conjurer of the storm. She be tied to the ocean and the ocean to her. She controls the monsters, the demons that lurk in the deep. Cap’n treated her better than any woman deserves, but he stopped, got lazy. And this is her punishin’ us for it. You mark my words. She created that storm.”

The man cocks his head to the side in curiosity.

“Bring them over. The boy too. The King will want to hear about this.” The boy quickly unlocks your cells, and then you’re being ushered up the stairs and above deck.

The sky, which was dark and dangerous nought five minutes ago, is clear and blue. Dead bodies lay askew on the deck, blood staining the wood.

The men of the King stop and stare as you and Wanda are ushered towards the gangplank.

A man whistles, his hand coming to your shoulder, and you wrench yourself out of his grip, levelling him with a hard glare as a boom of thunder explodes overhead, a crack of lightning touching down on the water beside the ship.

Everyone is silent, the Captain staring at you in wonder and awe.

“No one is to touch the women,” he announces loudly, making sure all his crew can hear.

“They are to be treated with the utmost respect. Do not touch them. Do not even look at them in the wrong way, understand?”

He’s met with a series of “aye captain”s.

You square your shoulders and cross the plank, Wanda right behind you.

The two of you are then promptly led to a small office.

“The Captain will be with you shortly,” the man says, closing the doors and standing outside, his back to you. You glance at your friend and nod slightly, a silent ‘I told you so’. She rolls her eyes and looks around the room.

“He means to bring us to the King. We will no doubt be exploited for our powers yet again. There is no way we win this.” You shake your head, eyes finding a paper on his desk.

Anthony Edward Stark.

The name rings a bell, but before you can put your finger on it, the door is opening and the Captain walks in.

“As I’m sure you’ve guessed, I’m the Captain. Tony is what my friends call me. I suppose you may call me that as well. So... witches. Do you have names?” You’re shocked, and it’s obvious on your face by the way that the man laughs.

“We’re not barbaric. It’s obvious to me that you were being held captive on the HYDRA ship. You may as well get comfortable here with me.” Wanda stays standing by the door, but you approach him.

“I am (Y/n). This is Wanda. What do you plan on doing with us?” He sighs heavily and sits down at his desk, pouring himself a glass of alcohol.

“I plan on continuing my route as I was supposed to. We’re to make port in Tortuga for some business, then we head back to England.” You furrow your brows.

“Why not take us back to England now?” Wanda asks, her eyes red with suspicion.

“Because anytime away from the King is time I cherish. And I think the two of you will make excellent company.” He smiles, winking at you.

The glass in his hand shatters and he curses, jumping up and away from his desk.

“Not that kind of company! Jesus! I just meant that I would like to learn more about your powers.” You look over at Wanda, whose glowing eyes are trained on Tony.

“And how do we know you won’t treat us the same way they all did?” She asks, her voice a venomous whisper.

He sighs and looks at the two of you for a moment, his eyes lingering on your necklace.

“Because. My mother was like you two. A sea witch, born with powers unparalleled. And I saw what men did to her for it. I will not let that happen to you as well.” The two of you are surprised at his words. Silence hangs heavy in the air for a moment before he clears his throat.

“I’ll see to it that the two of you have proper quarters, as well as changes of clothes. And I humbly welcome you to His Majesty, the King’s, esteemed ship: The Avenger.”

~

“Jesus Christ,” Steve whispers, taking off his hat in respect as they approach the wreckage in the water.

Sharks are circling, picking at any scraps of human flesh that they can find. Ship splinters and rope pollute the water, and the crew instantly know that this is the work of the King’s men.

“A quick fight,” James says, watching from the quarterdeck. Steve nods, curious about the events that transpired.

“Man overboard!” Someone shouts, and all eyes are searching for the body in question.

They see the subtle splashing, the man’s body mostly on a large piece of wood from the mast.

“Haul him up!” Steve shouts, hurrying to the spot to make sure the man’s okay.

When they finally get him over, he’s nothing but coughs and water, fingers trembling as he regains his bearings.

“What’s your name?” Steve asks, patting the young man on the shoulder.

When he finally looks up, everyone gasps. “It was the witch,” he whispers, blackened eyes darting around in fear.

“Witch?” Steve asks. This piques Bucky’s interest.

“Sh-she called the storm. Dragged the ship down down down, and now she goes on the celebrate with the King.” Bucky pushes forward, grabbing the man by the collar.

“The witch, what was her name?” The man shakes his head, eyes lolling to the side.

“Never name, only a witch. Never trust a woman... she be beautiful as a sunrise but deadly as a snake. I’d rather face a siren than that witch again. She owns the seas, is one with the winds, and she has a hatred in her heart for men.” The man stops to cough up water, his eyes rolling back as he starts convulsing.

Bucky stumbles back a step, his heart pounding in his head.

“Buck?” He shakes his head, climbing up the ladder on the mainmast to the crow’s nest. His eyes strain to see anything, any sign of where he should go.

What he sees leaves him feeling more hopeless than before.

Three of the king’s ships, on the very edge of the horizon, each going in separate directions.

He takes a deep breath in then climbs back down, furious with himself all over again.

“Buck? What the hell was that?” Steve demands, grabbing his best friend’s arm.

“It’s her, Steve.” Those three words are all it takes for Steve to understand.

“Which way did she go?” He asks softly, trying to help his friend.

“I’ve got no clue. There were three ships, all heading in different directions. There’s no way to know which ship has her, and we can’t very well follow all of them.” Steve sighs, patting his friend on the shoulder.

“We’ll find her. I swear. But until then we maintain course.” The brunet nods, eyes finding the wreckage in the water and praying to the gods that he finds you soon.

~

Tears wet your cheeks as you stare at the locket, fingers stroking the cool metal gently.

“If the memories pain you so, why conjure them so frequently?” You glance over at the brunette, wiping the wetness off of your face.

“Without the pain, I would forget my hatred. I would forget my purpose and I would lose hope.” Wanda nods thoughtfully, leaning back against the wall and sighing.

The quarters you were given are lovely. Soft beds, plenty of blankets, and a door with a lock. It’s all you could ask for and more from a ship belonging to the king.

“What do you suppose he’s going to do with us?” Wanda asks, fingers spinning a quill in the air above her head.

“I’m not sure quite yet. He seems to be genuine, but I fear he has ulterior motives. Surely, he’ll bring us to the king at some point. But until then... I only hope we fair better here than our last ship.” She nods, closing her eyes and lowering her hands, the quill dropping to the floor beside her as she spreads her fingers, red seeping out of her hands and down through the floorboards.

“There’s a change in the tide,” she whispers, her eyes opening and glowing red as she glances over at you. “Can you feel it?” You close your eyes, feeling the pull of the ocean deep in your gut.

“I feel it,” you whisper, “a change in the wind. A new presence is upon the waters, a dark one. I fear they are stronger than they seem.”

[professionalsimpfor2dboys]

“Scenting” Obey Me Fluff (slightly sexual)

All demon brothers x Female! MC

Introduction: when in Devildom, MC always knew demons were very different from her human self but she never knew they did something called “scenting” until some random demons did it to her, ensuing a very possessive & peeved off demon brothers

MC sat at her desk as she normally would but quieter than usual, compared to her other classes she’d be surrounded by her demons but this was the only class that she had none of them in. Sighing out of boredom, she hunched over her desk as she waited for the bell to ring but was interrupted by a tap on the shoulder. She looked up to meet black eyes that belonged to one of the many demon classmates she had grown used to ignoring.

“Hah! I told you! She finally noticed me!” He cheered cockily at his friends that stood alongside him, each very different from the other. “Jeez, I almost gave up on getting your attention, human,” he winked flirtatiously, which MC just blinked at in an oblivious manner.

“Hey! Just because she noticed you first doesn’t mean she doesn’t see the rest of us either!” The shorter out the bunch yelled out defensively.

“Ah, sorry...? I never realized anyone was trying to get my attention. Could I help you with something?” She questioned, holding a finger to her chin. After multiple lectures from Lucifer and the others but mostly Lucifer she had grown accustomed to not conversing with other demons since she was told they wanted nothing but to eat or hurt her and what idiot was not gonna take that warning? It surprised her that they seemed overall harmless, other than a common spark in the eyes of each of the demons in front of her.

“W-well, it’s not necessarily something you can help with...” a particularly shy-looking demon stepped forward, his black hair covered his eyes like a curtain which he nervously patted at. “W-we have a slight, ahem, fascination with h-humans...particularly y-you,” he trailed off as a taller demon slung an arm around his shoulders.

“Quit beating around the bush! We like you, human! You’re pretty cute!” Said demon announced, winking then continuing to give the shy boy a noogie.

A melodious giggle to their ears erupted from her throat at the slight blushing faces of her previously unknown classmates in front of her. “I’m flattered! I didn’t think I met up to demons’ preferences,” she laughed. MC was happy to be conversing with others for once, not being isolated to just the seven brothers felt as if a weight was lifted off her shoulders which she hadn’t noticed before and the fact that they found her cute was all the better.

“Nah! Attractive up there is still attractive down here! All we really prefer is that our horns don’t get caught up with each other when kissing and since you don’t have any it’s all the better!” The first demon replied cheerily, patting at her head to get the point across as she laughed. “Not to mention, since you’re human, you have a different type of beauty ‘bout you that we’re not too used to,” he continued, boldly leaning close and tipping her chin upward with a finger.

It was MC’s turn to blush. As her cheeks dusted with a slight pink tone, she couldn’t help but giggle at her classmates’ antics. “You guys are a funny bunch. I like y’all!” she commented happily, smiling at the four demons in front of her. It felt strange to not feel afraid of anyone other than her particular seven demons but not in a negative way. Inside she hoped that this would start a domino effect of others wanting to try striking up a conversation with her, the thought made her feel warm inside. The four stepped back in surprise at her revelation, whilst blushing at her cute smile they all shared a look with one another.

“D-do you mind if we, um, s-scent you...” the shy demon stuttered out as he twiddled his fingers nervously, fearing her reply to such an intimate request. Seeing her head cocked to the side, he quickly tried to explain himself. “A-Ah! We don’t want to fully scent you! Just one rub to show our interest in you is all! We would never fully scent without an established relationship! It’s just to show that we’re trying to court you is all! Y-you don’t even have to accept!” He rambled, jumping forward out of how frazzled he was which revealed his two gold eyes from underneath the curtain of pitch black hair.

“Sorry to interrupt, but what is ‘scenting’ exactly?” She questioned, confused at what it was and why there were different types. Realizing she didn’t know what it meant, the shy demon’s legs gave out from embarrassment as the taller demon caught him, his outbursts seemed to be normal to them.

“Oh, right! You’re human so you don’t know!” The shortest realized, putting his fist in to his other hand. “Hmm, long story short it’s what demons do to show our interest in someone,” he shrugged simply, but a sly glint in his eye as well as the smirk that lifted his lips said something else, which MC didn’t quite catch. “Here! I’ll show ya!” He continued before dipped down and nuzzling his neck against hers just once before pulling away with a satsifactory grin as he inhaled.

“Hey, you’re leaving some things out-“ the black-eyed demon spoke up before the shortest cut him off.

“You don’t mind it, right? It’s completely harmless!” He shrugged, holding his hands up and shaking his head innocently. The other three waited quietly in anticipation.

“I-I guess,” MC nodded which four smiled triumphantly at. The black-eyed demon didn’t waste time in following the prior demon’s actions but with a warmer smile before the taller did the same, a flirtatious lift to his lips. That left only the shy demon to scoot hesitantly close before rubbing his neck against hers. Once. Twice. Before being pulled away by the other three.

“Hey! What are ya trying to do? Don’t be going overboard with the scenting, dumbass!” The tallest reprimanded, holding him by the back of his collar.

“I-I’m sorry! I got carried away! I wasn’t going to do anything more! Promise!” He wailed as the three pulled him out the classroom just as the bell rang, not forgetting to wave at her as they left.

“Strange. I wonder what the brothers will have to say.” She thought to herself.

-

Disappointed but not surprised that the brothers each had plans after school, she walked home alone that day. One would think at least one would stay behind for her safety, but she felt that they were beginning to get too used to having her around and often forgot she was human, which was nice she was so included and familiar to them but annoying nonetheless when she didn’t get to see anyone until dinner. Beel and Satan had after school activities, which she understood as well as Lucifer having his own duties to Lord Diavolo but the other four’s excuses were ridiculous to her. Mammon texted her to inform that he was going to be trying to break into Diavolo’s office at school with the full intent to steal any valuables in there, Levi had shut himself in at some newly opened Internet cafe and refused to even do his online classes there, Belphie had disappeared somewhere most likely in a strange spot sleeping, and Asmo was completely focused on waiting in line at a popular cake store since morning just for what he called the “perfect Devilgram post”.

By the time she had gotten home she had completely forgotten about the whole “scenting” thing and decided to take a shower. She had just gotten out when she heard hurried footsteps leading to her door. Acting quickly, she ran to the door and locked it before anyone could enter and see her in all her naked glory. This was met with a deep “oof” as the person hit the door, expecting it to open, and followed it with loud knocks when it didn’t.

“Oi! Why’s the door locked? Who ya got in there? I can smell ‘em!” Mammon’s voice berated as he incessantly banged at the door, awaiting his human’s answer. He stopped briefly to press his nose against the crack of the locked door as he deeply inhaled to pinpoint the foreign scent before starting back up again. “Oiiii! Who’s scent is that? That ain’t any of my brothers or mine!” He yelled.

“Yeah, because it’s mine! I just got out the shower! Are you a bloodhound or somethin’? Am I not allowed to lock the door or would ya rather see me naked?” She yelled back, annoyed at his questions. Obviously she’s going to smell like her body fragrance after coming out the shower, what kind of question is that?

Blushing at her remark, he stopped knocking but still cocked his head to the side out of confusion. He knew her scent so why did it smell different? Shaking his head, he brushed it off as a new body lotion or something among those lines. “I’ve told ya! Demons have got a stronger sense of smell than ya humans! Anyways, I’m on dinner duty and it’ll be done in thirty minutes so I expect ya down here right when it’s done! The Great Mammon’s food shouldn’t be kept waiting, alright?” He stated.

“Yeah, yeah! I’ll be down there when I’m ready to!” She answered angrily, his questioning from earlier and the fact that he abandoned her to try breaking into Diavolo’s office instead taking play.

-

She took her time after that, knowing fully well that dinner was ready and the others were sat waiting for their beloved human that they neglected all day to come down and eat with them. By the time she came down, they had all been seated and Beel was already on his fifth plate which didn’t take him long mind you.

“Ah, better late than never, I suppose,” Lucifer commented teasingly, noting her damp hair as her excuse.

“Hurry up and eat before Beel devours it all!” Mammon ushered at the seat in front of him, he usually sat beside her but the twins had beat him to it since there was only one seat she preferred to sit at.

Taking her usual seat, she began to eat but it wasn’t long before a faint but definitely there foreign scent emanated from her. Reaching Belphie first while Beel was too busy stuffing his face with food. It roused him from his short slumber he decided to take at the dinner table, as he inched forward towards his human’s neck. She jumped when she felt his nose pressed against her nape as he inhaled and pulled away with a disgruntled look on his face.

“Why do you smell like that?” Belphie sneered. At this point, the smell had reached Beel as well and he promptly stopped his feasting to investigate. He followed Belphie’s actions but on the opposite side, deeply inhaling before quickly pulling away with furrowed eyebrows.

“Yeah...you smell like someone else,” Beel growled, surprising her at the tone of his voice. The smell wafted towards the other brothers as well and it wasn’t long before they were all on their feet, surrounding her with quizzical expressions while each taking turns of two to sniff at her exposed neck as she sat red-faced at the attention. She knew she was a bit petty from being neglected earlier but she didn’t expect this much attention at once!

“I knew I smelt something-someone earlier!” Mammon said as he angrily took another whiff, which only peeved him off more.

“How strange,” Satan hummed, a smile on his face that she knew masked his anger all too well. The brothers tried to rack their brains from what the scent could be from before Levi suddenly gasped.

“S-she’s been scented!” He revealed before dipping down yet again to smell. “And by, what seems like, multiple demons!” He continued, an angry flush against his cheeks. All the brothers looked at each other before returning their attention back to MC, who sat looking dazed in her chair.

“Now, now, lets give her space,” Lucifer commanded, waving his hand for his brothers to step away. “Care for an explanation, darling?” He questioned, the glint in his eye and slight furrow of his forehead outing his subdued anger as he felt a crack in his pride that some lowly demon, multiple in fact, had scented his human and she allowed it. He held a threatening but gentle hand on her shoulder as she tried her best to rack her brain to recall why she would smell like someone else. A lightbulb lighting up in her brain when she finally recalled.

“Ah! I talked to four classmates of mine for the first time and they mentioned something about ‘scenting’, I didn’t really understand it and next thing I knew they were doing it so that’s probably why!” She explained, looking up at the brothers with innocent eyes that made their hearts squeeze. So, she didn’t know.

“And what did they tell you about it exactly?” Lucifer questioned further.

“Hmm, they said demons do it to show their interest in someone? Something about courting?” She replied.

“Aw, my poor darling! Taken advantage like that!” Asmo cooed as he threw his arms around her.

“O-oh, did they lie?” She asked sheepishly.

“More like gave ya half-truths!” Mammon answered as he ran a hand through his hair in a frustrated manner. “Satan, explain,” he sighed, waving his hand.

“Well, while what they said was true it was very vague and not all of it. Scenting is when a demon claims one as their own, it’s territorial and tells other demons to back off or else there’s gonna be...problems,” Satan explained in a matter-of-fact manner.

“They mentioned something about not ‘fully’ scenting. What’s that?” She asked.

“Ah, if they did that we’d have their heads,” he chuckled out evilly before resuming his explanation calmly which made her shiver. “Fully scenting is when demons claim one as their mate. It creates a tether between them more romantically intimate than a pact and is stronger smelling than normal scenting. The one who was scented on can also release distress signals when in danger and it’ll alert the other demon almost right away,” he ended.

“A-Ah, so there was more to it,” she laughed weakly, realizing how dumb she was before.

“Hm, yes. Well, it seems that we’ll have to further stake our claim on our human here. Luckily we’re powerful demons, so we can easily break this mediocre scenting,” Lucifer stated before pressing his lips against her neck and harshly sucking, causing a gasp to leak out her lips. He pulled away and smirked at the bright hickey that bloomed on her neck as well as the fading scent that was on her.

“I agree,” Mammon monotoned as he did the same, finding her sweet spot almost instantly as he suckled and kissed on it to leave a deep bruise. “How dare they put their disgusting scent on my human?” He growled against her. She covered her mouth to muffle her voice, but Levi pulled them away.

“I don’t think so,” he tsked, nibbling at her jaw and smirking against her as she gasped at the feeling of his bite on her skin.

“We’ll be covering you with these,” Satan spoke against her, dipping to her clavicle to leave yet another hickey as he circled his tongue around it.

“We’ll put it in places you can’t cover and make it so dark no makeup could make a dent!” Asmo giggled mischievously as he aimed for where her jugular was, causing her to shiver.

Beel licked his lips at the sight of her as he took it upon himself to bite new territory, which was her shoulders. “This is better than when I wanted to eat you when we first met,” he mumbled lowly, lapping at the bite marks he left on her to soothe them.

“Ah, hardly any room for me,” Belphie muttered before taking a bite at the top of her chest, her jumping up as a reaction making him smile smugly.

Oh, how was she was going to avoid prying eyes at school tomorrow?

I’m a whore for scenting so I wanted to give it a go! I think ima make this a series since they didn’t fully scent on her just yet & will probs make a part for each of my bois, Mammon being first of course! Oh and I’m definitely gonna make them smutty because duh probably start off being some fluffy cute cuddles & then progress to absolute ravaging ;) interested?

Oh and what do y’all think of the demons I made up for this story? I kinda like their personalities & antics together idk 🤷🏻‍♀️

[eirikaanemo]

Summoning the Wind: Together

Part One: The Meeting, Part Three: The Finale

Venti x GN!Reader

1.4k Words

Warnings: Demon Summoning™, Social Isolation, Venti being dramatic

Notes: I'm posting this a day early because I have no self control

The next day you go back to school. Usually this would be a simple statement, but in this case it had consequences to go with it. People whisper in the halls, hushing briefly as you pass them. Venti floats a couple inches above your shoulder in his sprite form and people stare in a way you know their parents ought to have taught them never to do. You are now a pariah.

In a sad way, you understand. You’re a tier five summoner. Supposedly, you will never amount to anything. And in summoner schools like these, half the point is to build strong connections within the industry. No wonder no one wants anything to do with you. You’re practically worthless. And this hits you with the force of a speeding car every time someone looks a little too long or murmurs under their breath things about you.

It hurts. You’re not going to lie. It really, really hurts. The friends you thought you had made are suddenly avoiding you like the plague and you’re so, so alone. Except you aren’t though, you have Venti. So you spend most of the day interacting with him. You will talk at him, even if he can’t really reply back right now, but you know he’s listening and he reacts as best he can. And if he notices his cheerful chirps make you smile a little during this hard, hard day… well, maybe he does it a little more just for you.

You’re friends now, after all, and friends help each other. He can tell you need help, so he does what he can. It’s comforting to know that your partner is by your side through thick and thin. Even if, in some way, he is the cause of all this. But it isn’t his fault, not truly. So you could never dream of holding it against him.

Finally the school day is near its end. Your last class has a one worksheet assignment that could be taken care of quickly, and most do, but you’re putting a little more thought into it. After all, this will decide which path you and Venti will go on in the future.

“Well, we could join law enforcement and help protect people. We could work towards become summoning teachers ourselves. We could train for demon tournaments. We could-” Venti cuts off your rambling with a jingle, he’s nodding. “Uhm, the demon tournaments, right? You want to do those?” He nods vigorously. “Demon tournaments it is then,” you state, checking the box and turning in the assignment right before the bell rings.

The teacher looks over your worksheet and raises an eyebrow. “Are you certain?” The teacher asks. “As a tier five summoner, you will probably lose most battles.” You nod. “I’m absolutely certain. This is what Venti wants to do, so this is what I want to do.” You can feel the happiness coming off him in waves and your teacher gives you a smile.

“It may not be the most logical course of action, but I can appreciate the fact that you’re listening to your partner about these sorts of important things so early in your partnership.” Your teacher reaches down to pat the head of the pyro hound at their side. “Goodness knows I wish I had started listening to my partner sooner. Good on you for having your priorities in order!”

You blush and thank them before leaving with Venti. All the way home you chatter to him about what working towards competing in demon tournaments will entail and what you should do to prepare. And as soon as you get home he takes his human form again and chatters right back. The two of you plan out some teamwork exercises and do some meditating together to increase the strength of your partner mana bond.

He explains some of his abilities to you but you can tell he’s holding back. That’s okay, you decide. Your partnership is still very recent and you can’t expect him to just suddenly give you all the information you ask for. He will tell you when he’s good and ready, and you won’t let him give it to you a minute before then. You respect him too much for that.

As it gets to be evening he broaches the subject of how you’re being treated at school. “I noticed that no one’s been talking to you, just about you. And how no one wants to interact with you. And how your friends have been avoiding you. This is my fault, being labeled a fifth tier demon, isn’t it?” You shake your head insistently.

“No, Venti, it’s not your fault. It’s theirs. I don’t blame you for a second. And it’s fine, really. I can live with this, you’re here for me, after all.” At that he lets it go, but doesn’t seem very content with your answer. He can probably tell that it still tears you up inside. You’d reached a level of bond that lets you read some level of each others’ emotions earlier today, so you can’t really hide it from him.

Then the next day you start sparring classes for demon tournaments. It’s in a wide open room and against someone who summoned a tier five demon just for you to fight against. And even if you’re supposedly on equal terms with them, everyone is obviously expecting you to lose. It kind of stings, to be honest.

The referee starts the match with, “Start!” And the hydro sprite comes rushing at Venti while Venti stays perfectly still. You panic a little, worried, until he turns and winks at you before disappearing in a flash of turquoise. When you’re able to open your eyes again, he’s not in his sprite or his human form. He’s soaring in the air on hooded white wings. His outfit is white, gold, and turquoise. It’s magnificent.

“Diving Markmanship!” He calls from high in the air, sending a flurry of anemo powered arrows toward the hydro sprite. Said sprite is promptly whisked back to the demon realm after a single arrow, as all demons do when defeated in battle. It keeps them from actually getting harmed so while the tournaments may look dangerous, they’re all in good fun.

While you’re gazing thoughtfully at where the hydro sprite disappeared, everyone else is gaping at the sky with their demons cowering on the floor. Venti touches down next to you, grins when you look at him, and promptly turns back to his sprite form. Finally your referee gathers their wits enough to say something. “That… that is not a tier five demon.”

“Of course not,” one of the higher tier demons, capable of human speech responded. “That’s the flipping Anemo Archon, Barbatos. He’s the most powerful anemo demon to ever exist.” Slowly everyone turns to look at you and you turn to look at Venti. “This is news to me,” you state, lifting an eyebrow. You can feel his amusement and embarrassment through your bond and can’t help but laugh at the whole situation. What a day it has been.

Needless to say, things went a little back to normal. There’s still whispering in the halls, but at least people don’t avoid interacting with you anymore. They’re more awed than anything and you have to admit you’re a little in awe yourself.

“Why me?” You asked Venti later that night. “Why indeed,” he mused. “I suppose it is simply that our mana is a perfect match. This may be a bit of an odd situation for an archon like me to be in, some may even say it is below my station. But this is a lot more fun than I’ve had in millenia! So I’m really grateful that I can be your partner. Thank you!

“And I will admit, I wasn’t planning on revealing myself, at least not so soon and not like that. But it was really bothering me how they were treating you. Of course they shouldn’t have acted like that in the first place, but if there was something I could do to help I wanted to do it. So I did! I really do care about you, even if we haven’t known each other all that long. If not as a good human being, then as my summoner and friend. Thank you for being my friend.”

You smile at that. “No, thank you, Venti- or should I call you Barbatos?” He shakes his head. “You’re welcome. And no, Venti will do. I prefer to go by that name anyway.” You nod. “Venti it is then.”

[whileyoureinschoolidothisallday]

Love is A Liar’s Game - Chapter 1. “Hell Hath No Fury”

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: F/M, Gen, Multi

Fandom: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!

Characters: All the Brothers and Undateables, Original Main Characters, other Original Characters 

Pairings: Lucifer x F!OC, Mammon x F!OC, Levi x F!OC, Satan x F!OC, Asmo x NB!OC, Beel x F!MC, Belphie x F!MC, Diavolo x NB!OC, Solomon x NB!OC

Additional Tags: LONG FIC, multiple mcs (one is disabled, one is plus-size, and one is nb), humor, sexual humor, sexual content, implied sexual content, slow romance, enemies to friends to lovers, rivals to lovers, angst and romance, angst with a happy ending, heavy swearing, (eventual) suicide attempt and brief hospitalization resulting from it, religious cults, religious manipulation, emotional manipulation, depictions of gaslighting, deception, betrayal, violence, canon-typical violence, family trauma, abusive families, drug use, recreational drug use, polyam mcs (each mc dates three boys), and most importantly, THESE BITCHES TOXIC!!!!!!!! If you don’t like problematic characters (who do get character development I promise, but they will always remain Kinda Assholes), this is not the fic for you!!!!!

Summary:  "The Charas" are a clique of three best friends, MC, Y/N, and OC--real names redacted--who live their lives manipulating and scheming their way through life, with great success. The epitome of "Gaslight, Gatekeep, Girlboss", MC is the leader, wild child, and most importantly, a very successful business lawyer who can provide the funds (and the sweet talk) to get them out of anything, OC is a Belle-Delphine-like Kawaii Streamer/Cosplay Model/Sugar Baby with a seemingly endless amount of simps to do her bidding, and Y/N is the goth girl Intel with a violent temper who can hack her way into anything, either by computer...or with a crow bar. When MC learns of the human exchange student program at RAD, they see it as the perfect opportunity to pull off the ultimate scam: seducing the demon rulers of hell and taking the throne.

However...there might be more complications to this love game than any of The Charas bargained for.

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A/N: You ever wish the canon MC was a little meaner? A little wilder? A little less fearful and more at home surrounded by scummy demons? Are you tired of being nice? Do you wanna go apeshit? Then this is the fic for you!

anyway WOW I'M SO EXCITED TO SHARE THIS!!! This is the first long project I've posted that isn't my main WIP in YEARS!!

So, my friend Akina got me into the game Obey Me back in May '21 and, at the time, the MC of the game seemed so passive and either scared or uninterested in being in the Devildom, and we would joke that that was completely the opposite of how we felt like playing it, like....yes of COURSE we wanna seduce demons and run Hell, hello???????? At the same time, when we would play together, we would be making a lot of funny jokes and commentary that I thought was writing gold tbf. So, instead of making self-inserts like I literally always do in my fandoms, I decided to challenge myself and combined the two ideas to create--as Kina affectionately calls them--"The Powerpuff Girls of Sin". Three MCs that are simultaneously badass icons but also terrible people that would feel completely comfortable and unbothered surrounded by demons. Y/N and OC are both their own characters and also avatars for Kina and I to project some of our funny gameplay and narrative wants (and of course specific demon brother thirst :p), whereas MC is completely original and their own unique character. I named them "The Charas" and made their initials the common Dating Sim placeholders mostly just to make a funny tongue-in-cheek fandom joke. Most of the ideas for these characters came about just because I thought it'd be fun, so I hope you have fun with me! ^_^

On that note, there are a few things I'd like to address from a writing standpoint. First, I have a lot planned for this fic. My goal is for this to take place throughout the entirety of season 1 and hopefully season 2. As such, plan for this to take me awhile. I mentioned before that I have a main WIP, which is a mainstream YA series I'm working on publishing, and it does take priority in my life, so unfortunately updates for this fic may take awhile. In the tags, it warns of a suicide attempt, but that won't be until very close to the end of season 1, so you have a bit before you have to worry about that. I plan on putting a warning on the chapter before it happens as well as the chapter of, so you'll have ample warning. I'm also gonna do my best to write it in a way that you can skip the chapter all together and still know what's going on after.

Another thing I wanted to address because I'm concerned that people might misinterpret: While I write the Charas and refer to them as toxic people, I want to say right now that no one is toxic because of the job they have, identities they have, or recreational activities they enjoy. I consider them toxic because of their actions toward other people. OC being disabled and a sex worker, MC's very active sex life, and Y/N being plus-sized and a drug user are not what makes them shitty people and I'm completely comfortable telling you that none of those things are changing during their character developments. There are stories that exist where people get "fixed" in order to signify positive character growth, but I assure you that if you're expecting something like that here, you've got the wrong author. I included those things into their characters as either things I interpret as badass and empowering or things I interpret as being completely neutral but deserving of more fun rep!!!!!!!

Last thing I promise: MC uses she/they pronouns and I'm trying something a little different to depict that! MC typically refers to themselves with 'she' pronouns, so internal narration will reflect that when the chapter is supposed to follow more of their pov, but they prefer other people refer to them with 'they' pronouns, so all the other characters (and preferably me and the audience!) will be using those. I don't know if this will stick! It's honestly my first time trying duo-pronouns, so that method might be too confusing! We'll have to see how it goes! This is one of the things I'm open to feedback on, so feel free to let me know what's working and what isn't.

Alrighty, I'm gonna stop talking now! I promise the other notes won't be this long, but thank you for reading if you got this far! Once again, I hope you enjoy the fic. I'm very excited to finally introduce these characters, as they're quickly becoming some of my favorites I've made in my writing journeys, and I can't wait to ramble about them with you further within the fandom!!

Have fun!!!

(also you can read on ao3 here!!!)

“Are you satisfied

with an average life?

Do I need to lie to make my way in life?

Are you satisfied

with an easy ride?

Once you cross that line,

will you be satisfied?”

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There was nothing MC loved more in life than a little revenge.

The rush. The catharsis. It was all a divine experience. But her most favorite part would have to be the look on her victims' faces. Lawyers, doctors, politicians. They all thought they were so smart. They thought their secrets were safely guarded to their chest. But everyone talks too much when they're high on the right stuff, or on the edge of an orgasm, or when they thought they were in love. And everyone of them—no matter how prideful, successful, or powerful—crumbled with the same face. Hopeless. Despair. A sniveling animal trapped under her heel. Her banking firm would own them and their assets until the day they died. Sometimes even longer. It never failed to make a girl need a change of panties.

She couldn't wait to see the Demon King and his Court with the same expressions.

The bright light of the sun danced against the glass windows of the quaint outdoor cafe they'd found along the docks. For her plan to work, MC would need both of the other Charas on her side. She could never run a full scam without her Soul Mates after all, as she lovingly called them. Y/N, the middle member of their clique, stared at her flatly from across the table. Despite the dark sunglasses shielding her round, fair-colored face, MC could feel the cool judgment of her grey-green eyes. Their last remaining member would be pulling in on a yacht shortly. Until then, MC had taken the time to convince the most skeptic of their group to her plans.

Y/N ashed her cigarette on the ground. "So, I have a question."

"Shoot!"

"Are you out of your fucking mind?"

MC frowned, her full, glossy lips sagging into an exaggerated pout. "You don't like it?"

"I'm sorry. Did you think I would be thrilled to go to Hell and try to run a scam on literal bloodthirsty monsters?" Y/N said. "I know you think you're immortal, Em, but they actually are."

"Oh, please, anyone who's watched a horror movie knows a Demon's weakness." MC rolled her eyes.

"A lesser Demon. You wanna go after the fucking King!"

"Prince, actually." MC smugly popped a french fry in her mouth. "My sources tell me the King's let his son take the reigns while he plays dead for a little while or something. Perfect time to strike."

"Who do you have looking into this? Em, if you're traced—"

"Girl, please unclench," MC groaned. "Do I look like an amateur? All I did was date some occult fanatic for awhile. They info-dumped the whole thing."

"This isn't a game."

"Everything's a game, love. And I always win." When Y/N gave her another flat look in response, MC huffed and aggressively dipped another fry in ketchup and mayo. "Y'know. Speaking of occult fanatics. I'm surprised you're being so negative about this when I've never known anyone as obsessed with it as you. Your goth ass has been thirsting after a pact the whole time I've known you."

Y/N's pentacle necklace glistened against her black turtleneck-and-dress combo. She had her elbow up on the table, with her face propped against her hand. "That's why I know what they're capable of."

MC's face suddenly darkened. "And I don't?"

A tense silence fell between the two of them. Y/N's face softened, and she awkwardly picked at the few cheese curds remaining on her plate. When she spoke again, her voice was quiet.

"...I didn't mean it like that." Ah, the Ennie special. An indirect apology. It was the best her pride would allow.

A small smile returned to MC's face. "I know. It's okay. I just don't want you to think I haven't been putting work into it. This is all I've been thinking about, and I really believe it's the right thing for us to do."

Y/N sighed, but turned back to her unfinished plate thoughtfully, absently popping a lone cheese curd in her mouth. Before the silence could get too oppressive, she spotted a large yacht pull up in the corner of her eye. It was giant, gaudy and sleek, as compact as a yacht could be—the telltale sign of a wealthy man in a mid-life crisis. OC's specialty. With an eye-roll, Y/N nodded toward the obnoxious vehicle.

"Cece's here." She rose from the table with her announcement. MC clapped her hands excitedly and moved with much more enthusiasm.

She tossed some money on the table—much too much for what they ordered, but she couldn't be bothered—and lead the way toward the docks, Y/N trudging behind her. Once the boat pulled in, a lady in a very tacky looking maid outfit—roughly about their age. Maybe slightly younger--anchored it and stepped onto the dock.

"Friends of the mistress, I presume?" Her tone was perfectly polite, but her tight smile made it obvious she did not get paid enough to put up with this. When the other Charas confirmed, she nodded. "I'll let her know you're here. Please follow me."

The two of them stepped onboard and followed the woman toward the deck. There were already mimosas waiting for them, along with cozy seating and ocean views. MC didn't waste time making herself comfortable. Y/N loitered around a bit, checking out all the bougie features. The woman cleared her throat.

"The mistress will be out shortly." And with that, she returned to the interior, closing the glass doors behind her.

As soon as she was gone, Y/N turned to MC. "A maid outfit!?"

"Listen, she doesn't date them for their class." MC was hardly bothered. She sipped lightly on the drink while not-so-subtly trying to catch another glimpse of the maid.

Y/N noticed and scoffed.

"You are unbelievable. Truly."

"Aw, Ennie. Jealousy's a disease. Just cause you're not getting any..." she sipped her drink coyly.

"I'm not jealous," Y/N snapped. She dug in her purse until she found a lighter and something else. "The only companions I need are Sal...and Larry."

She took out a vape pen and wiggled it fondly. “Or Chibi-Larry, in this case.” It was designed with one of those cartoon girls she was always watching. Annie Mae? MC tended to tune out when she started talking nerd. Y/N took a rip from the pen, and by the time she blew out, the last remaining Chara was finally posing in the doorway.

"Hiiii!" She already had a mimosa in one hand while her other rested on the joystick of her wheelchair. The maid was right behind her, albeit irritably.

"There she is!" MC grinned.

"What's with the get-up?" Y/N nodded toward the youngest's outfit, or lack thereof. She was wrapped up in a fluffy white rob and fuzzy slippers, with her dark coily fluff of curls tucked away in a towel.

"I just got up." OC shrugged, moving to park at the table with the others. Now it was MC's turn to raise an eyebrow.

"It's 4pm."

OC smirked. "I worked an all-nighter."

Y/N made a sound of disgust while MC snickered knowingly. OC pulled a cell phone from her pocket—her holy grail—and started typing at a rapid rate, her pastel acryllic nails tapping against the screen, all while taking another sip from the champagne glass. The pink cover of the phone was decorated with cutesy decos of cupcakes and candy. Today, anyway. She changed it as often as her hair and nails.

"So," OC spoke while typing. It was unlikely she'd look up from the screen again. "Where're the goods?"

Y/N cleared her throat and glanced carefully toward the maid. She kept a polite distance in the doorway, but she watched the three of them like hawks. They could see her unamused expression from here. OC finally looked up to follow their stares.

"Oh! My bad," she said. She waved her hand dismissively. "That'll be all, Jeeves! You can go."

The act fell sharply from the woman's face. "That's not my name."

"Whatever it is, then. Buh-bye!" OC waved again, this time with a plastic smile. Her face suddenly lit up. "Oh! But actually, could you make us some pancakes? With whip cream, strawberries, and lots of maple syrup and butter? Thanks, you're a doll."

By the worsening look on the woman's face, she must've preferred 'Jeeves'. "Ma'am, I do have to say that the master had specific instructions not to move far from his original docking space. And I don't believe you were permitted to keep visitors."

"Truly, Cece, have some compassion! The woman's only trying to do her job," MC spoke with fake outrage, sliding out of her seat. She walked to stand in front of the maid, once again taking her wallet out of her jeans and presenting a ridiculously fat stack of cash.

She could hear Y/N hissing at the table, "Why do they just carry all this cash on them?!", but she ignored her.

"How about a little incentive for all the hard work you do? I'm sure whatever geezer she's shackin' up with doesn't pay you nearly what you deserve." MC held the money temptingly. She also coyly looked the woman up and down. "I wouldn't worry about your boss. Whatever he's paying you, I could double it, easy. I could probably think of a few ways we can get you out of that silly outfit too. If you're interested."

The woman's eyes were already wide at the bribe. "Yeah, okay." Her professional act dropped, and she snatched the cash out of MC's hand. But at the flirting, while she didn't look particularly impressed, there was an undeniable tiny smirk on her face. "But I'll stick to the cash for now, thank you very much."

MC smirked back. "Have Cece give you my number if you change your mind."

She turned back to join the other Charas while the maid pocketed the cash. The woman closed the glass doors with a considerably more friendly face. "Enjoy your meeting! I'll start working on those pancakes right away, miss."

As MC sat back down, OC briefly glanced up from her phone to frown at her. "Do you honestly have to fuck the help every time I get a new sugar deal?"

"Do you honestly have to pick the scummiest fucks to work with?" Y/N said back.

"But scummy fucks bring in big bucks!" OC spoke in a sing-song voice.

"What's this clown's name anyway?"

"I don't know, I just call him Daddy."

"At least me sleeping with the help gives them incentive not to snitch on you when they catch you stealing his shit," MC teased.

"Hey, Chara rule #8, it doesn't count if you're stealing from rich people."

"We are rich people," MC said.

"Speak for yourself," Y/N whined.

"Oh, don't worry, Ennie! A couple more months modding my streams and messages, and we'll get you back on track!" OC patted her friends' thigh encouragingly. Y/N leaned her head back against the chair, so she was staring at the sky.

"If I gotta read one more of your simps' pathetic, cum-soaked messages I'm gonna throw up."

"Well, if someone wouldn't have needed a fancy lawyer..." MC teased. "How are those anger management classes treating you?"

"I will kill you, Em."

She giggled playfully, a daring gleam in her eyes. "Not good I guess. All the more reason for us to go through with this!"

She pulled a piece of paper out of her purse and slammed it on the table. The others leaned closer to get a better look. It was the application to the freshly announced student exchange program for the Royal Academy of Diavolo, the university all demonic denizens of the Devildom were required to attend. MC already took the liberty of filling out their information. According to the televised announcement, the goal of the program was to finally bring the three realms together after eons of isolation. They wanted two students from each realm: two Humans, two Angels--and each new student would be spending a full year down below. The ultimate goal? No more borders. Humans, Angels, and Demons would live in harmony. Their kind would have full access to the Human world for the first time in existence.

And MC would sooner die.

All that was needed to complete the application were Y/N and OC's signatures. OC clapped eagerly. Y/N pulled the paper closer, inspecting it thoroughly, as expected. MC pulled two pens out of her purse and layed them neatly on the table. OC grabbed one immediately.

Y/N's eyes snapped up. "You're already ready to sign?"

"Em had this amazing idea about expanding my brand to the Devildom while I'm in the program! Did you know they go feral over streamers like me down there?" OC's smile was wide with the prospect of fresh exploitation.

"Yeah. Probably literally."

Her syrupy brown eyes flashed with another wave of greed, her expression nearing euphoric. "I could add a hazard tax to any live appearances!"

Y/N turned her glare at MC. "You know she can't resist when you put dollar signs in front of her."

"Hey! Rude!" OC protested. MC smiled.

"I have no idea what you mean, dear Ennie."

Y/N leaned back in her chair, twirling the pen in her hands. "Well, I'm not folding so easy. I want the pitch."

MC's shoulders slumped. "You're being a real pain in the ass today, you know that?"

"You want us to put our asses on the line. It's only fair."

"It's like I said earlier. I think it's the right thing to do."

"But since when do we give a fuck about that?"

MC sighed through her nose. But eventually she stood up, with her hands leaning against the back of the chair. The playful banter that had been surrounding the group of friends slowly dissipated. OC looked up from her phone. Y/N kept her face propped against her fist, but sat up a little straighter. MC took a deep breath to steady herself.

"We all know I have a nasty history with demons. It's not a secret," she began. A somber look briefly fell across the other girls' faces. "After what they did to me and my family, I would rather die than share space with them in our world. I know what they're capable of. Nothing good will come from this."

She picked at her hands absently. "But...I would never ask you to do something this risky based on my own motivations alone. The Charas aren't exactly heroes, and I'm not trying to make us into some."

She quirked her head slyly. "The perks heroes get, however..."

Y/N's eyebrows raised slightly. "I'm listening."

"It's not much different than the scams we've run in the past." MC moved to lean further against the chair. "During the program, one Human exchange student will be staying with the Angels at a place called Purgatory Hall, while we'll be staying in the House of Lamentation with the Seven Demon Brothers of Hell."

Y/N suddenly perked up. "The Brothers of Hell?"

OC groaned and stared impatiently. "Could the two of you explain to those of us who aren't unhealthily obsessed with the supernatural who the fuck that is?"

"They're the Avatars of Sin. Pride, Greed, Envy, Wrath, Lust, Gluttony, and Sloth," MC explained. "Prince Diavolo rules over the entire kingdom and his word is law, but the brothers are sort of like...the foot soldiers. Or maybe advisors. They're the faces of Hell. Their job is to carry out Diavolo's will, while also following their own agenda of corrupting and tormenting souls. They're the most powerful Demons in the Devildom, after the Prince of course."

"Lucifer is the eldest brother and leader. Yes, that Lucifer." Y/N added, to which OC made a sarcastic 'oooo!' sound and waved her fingers. Ennie slouched back into her chair. "Em's main character syndrome has finally inflated their brain to the point that they think we can run a scam on the literal fucking Devil."

OC made a turtle face. "High risk, high reward. Am I right?"

"Exactly right." MC had a wicked gleam in her green eyes.

"And what 'reward' would that be?" Y/N pressed. A daring smirk slightly spread along MC's lips.

"Power."

The perpetual boredom on Y/N's face flickered. For a moment, her eyes brightened. For as long as they'd known each other, there was one concept that Y/N could never turn down. One thing she was constantly chasing, no matter how apathetic she became. MC knew she had her now.

"The plan is dangerous, yes, but it's simple," she began, her shoulders squaring even more confidently. "We go down there, play good school girls, and seduce all seven brothers and Diavolo into making pacts with us. Then, we'll not only keep the demons from invading our world, but we'll have both the Celestial Realm and our world eating out of the palms of our hands. They'll give us whatever we want."

The shock caused Y/N to inhale her vape too quickly and go into a brief coughing fit. "A pact?! You? You do know that's permanent, right? Your souls are bound to each other until death. You would be stuck to a Demon your entire life."

"And I'd also get full access to their powers and have them at my every beck and call," MC replied. "Turn a few demon kings into pets, become Queens of Hell...I'm not seeing a down side."

At the mention of 'Demons' and 'pets', OC's eyes lit up with exaggerated stars. "I bet they'd look so good in a leash! EEEEEEE!!!!! Ennie, I need one!"

"Oh, Jesus," Y/N rolled her eyes.

"Well, I guess that's settled," MC laughed. She smugly stirred her drink with her French-tipped finger. "Unless you wanna be the first one to try and tell OC no."

OC emphasized her point by staring at Ennie with an intense pout, which the middle Chara grimaced at. The others started quietly chanting her name, slowly growing in volume the longer her decision took. But any further deliberation was just to soothe her own pride. Em was right—she always was. As soon as power was mentioned, Y/N was on board. A pact with even one of the Demon Brothers was more than she ever hoped to achieve with her limited occult studies, let alone all seven. With their power, there would be no more being pushed aside. No more coming in second. No more watching others gain with ease what she endlessly struggled for. No more rules and asking permissions. She would never have to be without again.

She would never lose again.

MC held the pen out in front of her, a knowing smile on her chiseled, ambiguously brown face. Y/N rolled her eyes only to keep up her act of apathy.

"Gimme that shit." She snatched the pen and proceeded to sign her name on the dotted line. The others cheered.

"Me next, me next!" OC was practically bouncing in her seat. She hastily signed once Y/N passed the document to her. She kept her face low to the paper, like it was simply a replacement for her screen. "Hey, by the way, do you think Hell's accessible?"

"Please, if they're gonna go through all the work to accommodate Humans in a realm full of hungry Demons, they better be able to work with a goddamn chair," MC said. Her tone was the typical playful sarcasm, but she was eagerly leaning forward to see the final product.

"Or get me some throne carriers at least," OC joked. She finally passed the application to the leader, who snatched it so fast it almost ripped off a nail. "Hey! Extra much."

MC didn't acknowledge it. She gazed along the signatures with a bright grin. Finally. Everything was working exactly as it should. She could always rely on her best friends. Her sisters. Finally, this nightmare would come to an end.

Finally, Righteousness would Reign.

"It's perfect," she said. Her grin softened to something much more adoring. "Thank you. I'm gonna owe you big time. If anything else, it'll help me sleep a lot better at night."

After a shared moment of mutually affectionate gazes, OC was the first to break the silence, pretending to fuss over her impossibly smooth, golden bronze skin with the camera function of her phone. "Please. I'm only in it for the payout. Obviously, I'm already the only Queen among you bitches. It's about time we made it official."

They all laughed. MC carefully began folding up the application. Her heart pounded, and the infectiousness of her excitement was contagious to the other two. OC couldn't stop gushing over the many business prospects that were about to open for her. Even Y/N was chatty over occult knowledge through the vape smoked she puffed out. Life had gotten boring lately. For OC, scamming the usual simps was losing its luster despite the steady revenue, for MC, there wasn't anyone worthy of a challenge, and for Y/N there was simply too much scrutiny to do anything worthwhile. A payout like this would make sure none of them would ever be unsatisfied for the rest of their lives. MC only listened with a grin.

"Hey, wait a minute," Y/N said thoughtfully. "How are we convincing them to take all three of us when they only want one Human each?"

"As always, you just leave the negotiations to me, dear Ennie." MC finally finished folding the application and carefully tucked it down the front of her cropped red tank. Raising her glass, the sly smirk returned to her face. "Ladies! This is about to be so much fun."

With one more cheer and the clink of their glasses, their journey was set. MC sat back down with her legs crossed.

"Now. Where the hell are our pancakes?"

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

Later

All that could be heard on the midnight streets of Hollyhock and Silver were the dull humming of street lamps and the confident clacking of heels.

MC knew the way well. She took it every day, after all. The golden trim of the Solis Arch Law Firm glistened in the looming moonlight, standing tall against the shadows of the night, as it always should. Her heart was still pounding like it was earlier on the yacht, fluttering against the paper still laying flush against her chest. She had changed her outfit before she came to something more work appropriate. She paused to check herself out in the car door mirror. Black and gold trimmed pants suit perfectly pressed. Makeup changed to a more natural shade. Dark hair hanging loosely instead of tucked in the black cap she was wearing earlier. Light green eyes adorned with lashes, ass fat, melanin poppin'. This was the start of the most important day of her life. It would be horrendously off brand if she didn't walk into glory slaying. Her heart thumped even harder the closer she got to the front door of her building. She bit back a squeal as she swiped her security card.

Admittedly, the inside of the Firm was always a little unsettling at night, no matter how many times she had to appear for report. But the thrill of the current task was stronger than any sense of unease, and easily pulled her steps forward. She was in the elevator with a few simple strides across the hall. The one in the far back, past all of the others, decorated with a brilliant sun rising underneath a bold arch, all painted in gold. To clients and any of the uninitiated, it looked as though this was just for show, without any device visible to open it. But if you pressed the farthest corner of the wall, and knew what sequence to push the resulting buttons...voila. The gold-adorned gates opened. MC pressed the only button presented inside the shining elevator walls and began the descent.

Despite her eagerness, she forced herself to keep her poised posture. From this point on, there was no privacy. Eyes were everywhere. The Children of Enoch were MC's family. The only real family she had left. But she would be a disappointment to their teachings if she let her affections blind her to their most important rule: We Relinquish Control to No One. Showing her excitement, her passion, her burning vengeance, would be revealing a weakness, and weaknesses put your life in the palm of someone else's hand. She would die for this family, but she wasn't naive. The honest parts of herself were too valuable to be seen by just anyone.

The elevator doors opened. The hall that awaited was a much darker maroon color than the rest of the building, but with the same glossy shine on the walls. Gold fixtures stood proudly beside all the office doors. On more than a few, there were also various weapons to indicate every individual's rank and specialty. Everything still had the same air of refinery MC had come to love so much, even with the ominous undertones. She only stopped walking when she approached a door decorated with another sun and an eye in the middle.

A voice answered after she knocked three times. “By the Light of the Guardians, Heaven and Earth will join once more.”

“And by the Blood of our Enemies, the Children will inherit all of Creation,” MC recited in response. There was an unlatching sound, and then the door gently opened.

“Welcome back, dear Child.”

Waiting at the desk was a man with salt-and-pepper hair, dressed in black robes. His lightly tan skin was slightly weathered with age, but his eyes still sparkled with the vitality of a skilled Hunter. Tonight, Elder Silas was on night duty. He was always her favorite—much less stuffy or crabby than the other Elders. He'd been the first to comfort and care for her when tragedy struck, and was always the one with the most faith in her, even when her more wild streaks took center stage.

He smiled warmly at her, gesturing to the chair in front of him. “I sense you have some good news for us.”

She took the document from her shirt and held it proudly. “As always.”

“Ah, the girls were in agreement! Excellent!” the man clasped his hands together. “I won't lie. When you suggested the family commission the help of your outsider friends for such a serious task, we were a little concerned. They've always seemed somewhat, erm...well, certainly not as disciplined as you.”

“They've always come through for us in the past. We all know they're not Hunters, but they are the other two Guardians after all,” MC said, moving to sit in the chair. “I knew even I couldn't handle this on my own, and there's no one else I'd trust to handle this kind of responsibility with me. We can trust them.”

“Well, I'm glad it worked out!” Elder Silas said. He leaned forward to pat her once on the shoulder. “We should all know better than to doubt our best Hunter's judgment by now, hm?”

MC smiled at the compliment. The Elder gestured for her to hand over the application, but she didn't move. The paper stayed firmly in her hand. Elder Silas raised his eyebrows curiously.

“Just to clarify,” she began. “Cece and Ennie are only helping because they're under the impression they'll have full access to demons that will grant their every wish. When this is over, they'll still be properly compensated, correct? And safe?”

“Yes, absolutely!” Elder Silas grew a little more somber, to respect the severity of her question, but his lightheartedness still shown through. “As soon as the three of you secure the eight demon pacts, we will open a portal and bring you back home. You'll have the full year of the program to complete the mission, but you may finish at any time. Once you're safely back here with us, you will summon the demons, one by one, and we will slay them, thus ending their cursed rule and allowing humans, the rightful heirs to Creation, to take the throne and finally rid the Realms of the demonic plague.

Upon their death, you will be released from the pacts, and the Family will be sure to reimburse everything the demons granted all of you, and then some. You'll get the rewards your due. You have my word.”

Elder Silas cleared his throat. “Assuming none of you get corrupted, of course. The plan would remain the same, but...unfortunately become a tad more messy.”

“Please. Don't make me laugh,” MC scoffed. “The Charas manipulate, we don't get manipulated. Rule #1. We Relinquish Control to No One.”

“Excellent. So everything's in order, then?”

Once again, Elder Silas held out his hand expectantly. MC's expression visibly softened. She passed the application into his hand.

“Splendid, splendid!” Elder Silas exclaimed. His eyes briefly scanned the paper before he stood from his chair and moved to stand close to MC. “Now, you and the others don't have to worry about anything else on your end. The Family will finish all the other arrangements and make sure this is the application Diavolo chooses. The deadline is coming quite soon, so be ready to leave within very short notice.”

Elder Silas paused to open a drawer and pulled out a mid-sized dropper vial. Inside it was a silvery-purple liquid. MC watched as the liquid danced behind the glass. The swirls were almost hypnotic.

“From now on, you and the others will need to drink three drops of this daily,” he explained. “It's a magical solution that will shield your minds from any of the demon's Charms, higher level or otherwise. It's tasteless so you won't need to worry about the girls becoming suspicious.”

MC took the vial and carefully placed it in her bag. “I'll start taking it tonight. Is there anything else?”

Elder Silas sighed, pleased, another bright grin appearing on his face. “No. No, I think you're set.” For a moment, he stared at her with a beaming expression, like he was the proudest father in the world. It made MC feel like she was golden. The man placed both hands on her shoulders and squeezed affectionately. “This is the opportunity the Family has been waiting centuries for. The three ancestors of the Guardians of Lilith, finally fighting alongside us to liberate the Realms from evil. We're almost to the end, my dear. I always believed you would lead us to success. Soon, your fears will be a distant memory. Righteousness will Reign.”

She nodded, determination overtaking her soft expression. She'd been training her whole life for this moment. It wasn't an accident that she became the top Demon Hunter in the Children of Enoch. What else was she supposed to do? After being kept awake, night after night, the bloody images of her family—mother, father, baby brother and sister—lying slaughtered on the floor permanently imprinted into her mind? As the eldest, who else was left to avenge their name? Who else was left to continue their legacy within the Children of Enoch? When the Sages revealed that she was one of three ancestors to the Guardians of Lilith, she knew there was no other destiny for her. She cut her teeth on human scum during the day, and by night she let her vengeance rage on the nearest lowly demon. Now, it was finally time for her thirst for vengeance to be satiated by the real thing.

“I won't fail.” MC's voice was low. “Righteousness will Reign.”

[wisteriashouse]

stray.

pairing: rengku kyoujuour x reader

genre: fluff

word count: 1123

remarks: written for @redgokus​’ event!! im sorry it was so short but i woke up late and now i have to go for work TT this seems like it’d be able to shape up into a long story so if i have time i might go back to it!

An entire month passes before Kyoujurou can leave the estate on his own.

Some days, Senjurou insists on accompanying him, and while Kyoujurou deeply treasures his brother’s company and appreciates his efforts in trying to cheer him up, there are simply days where Kyoujurou wishes to be alone. Saying something like that out loud would likely confuse and hurt kind Senjurou’s feelings, however, so Kyoujurou waits for a day when his younger brother is busy preparing lunch in the kitchen to slip silently out of the back door. He’s left the note in a place where Senjurou would surely stumble across if he were to look for his older brother.

The air outside is cool and crisp, the gentle rays of morning light settling over the trees lining the path and setting them aflame, turning russet red to burnished gold. The path to the town market is one that he’s walked on countless times since he was a child, but before he’s even halfway there, he’s forced to stop by the ache in his stomach, hands gripping his walking stick hard as he tries his best to regulate his breathing. Shuffling to the side of the path, he leans against the sturdy trunk of one of the trees to catch his breath. 

When he tilts his head up, the crimson and golden leaves have already begun to fall.

He doesn’t remember the leaves being this red the last time he stepped out of the house the last time he was alone, nor does he recall the air being cold enough to hurt his lungs with every breath he takes. An entire month has truly passed while he’s been stagnant and recuperating at home. One of his hands reaches down to press lightly against his belly, and he bites back a wince - the area is still sore even after so long. Even though he knows he should be glad that he’s just alive after an encounter with an upper moon demon, a certain frustration builds up in him every time other slayers still in active duty visit him. Muzan still has not been defeated, and demons still roam the world, devouring humans.

Kyoujurou was born blessed with the strength to help the weak. Now, that strength has been taken away from him.

“You were born strong to help the weak, Kyoujurou.” He remembers his mother’s words more clearly these days. But how is he to do that now that he’s been reduced to this?

There’s a bitter taste at the back of his mouth. Part of him wishes that he could still train - it’s a difficult habit to abandon, after having spent his entire life dedicated to becoming stronger - but Kochou’s threatening smile and the ache in his belly are reminder enough that those days are already behind him. Now, he struggles to finish a simple bowl of porridge, or to even take a short walk without his cane.

His fire had burnt vigorously, brightly, beautifully for a few short years - and it had reduced him to ashes in the process. And now, he is at a loss for what to do with the embers he’s left with.

A self depreciating chuckle leaves his throat as he reaches up to smooth down his eyepatch. This is why he hadn’t wanted Senjurou to come along. There was no point in letting his younger brother see him so downcast. With a sigh, he pushes himself to his feet once more, ready to continue his walk when a dark blur streaks down the path.

Kyoujurou’s good eye widens - the black shape leaps straight at Kyoujurou, and he holds out his arms instinctively to catch it. In the blink of an eye, a ball of fur is curled in his arms, little paws scrabbling against his kimono before it curls itself into his chest with a meow. For a moment, Kyoujurou merely stares at it, stunned at the strange turn of events. 

He reaches up with one hand to rub the silky fur of its head instinctively. The cat lets out a pleased purr, tail swishing back and forth. So soft. He’d always wanted a pet, but his father had never liked animals.

“Where did you come from, little kitty?” Kyoujurou murmurs, voice soft so as not to spook the cat out of his arms. He tilts his head to study it a little more carefully. Its fur is soft, shiny and well taken care of, and it doesn’t look like a stray. A simple collar with a silver bell rests snugly around its neck. “Did you escape your owner?”

The cat only meows again, butting his hand with its head when he falters in petting it. 

“There you are!”

He gets his answer a few seconds later when he catches sight of someone running up to him, your cheeks tinted bright pink and your chest heaving. Perspiration dots your brow, and when you come to a stop in front of him, you’re forced to hunch over to catch your breath for a few seconds. When you finally do look up, your glare is heated, almost furious.

“You little bastard!”

Kyoujurou’s mouth falls open in shock. 

What did he do to deserve this?

You must notice the way his face falls at your words because you hurry to clarify, your expression instantly softening. “Oh no, I wasn’t talking to you! I’m very sorry about that, sir.” You bow in apology, before you turn your glare to the cat in his arms. “You mangy stray! Come back right this instant!”

Kyoujurou blinks. “This is your cat?”

The cat in his arms lets out a yowl, claws digging into the fabric of his kimono. It doesn’t seem as if it wants to leave. 

“Oh yes,” you nod, your expression completely exasperated. “It hates me because I have cold hands.” The cat hisses at you when you reach out to take it, and he can see the little claw marks on your arms from where the cat must have scratched you earlier. “Come on, you silly cat! Stop bothering the nice man!”

The cat only buries itself deeper into his arms.

“I’m fine with it.” Kyoujurou says quietly, scratching the cat gently behind the ears and it purrs, long and loud. His lips twitch up in a smile as he looks up at you. “I could carry your cat to your home, if you’d like?”

Your eyes widen. “You’d do that? Thanks a lot, that’s really nice of you.”

The cat hisses at you, and you hiss back at it. Kyoujurou has to bite back a sound of amusement. 

“It’s no problem at all.” He says. 

The cat in his arms purrs loudly, as if agreeing with him.

[marbelcrossovers]

Gojo Satoru x Yokai!Todoroki Enji

*JJk Shibuya Arc Spoilers *Follows Chap 12 of my Gojo x Endeaovr fic *Little bit of nurarihyon no mago vibe

The curses and curse manipulators trapped people inside of Shibuya, little did they know that they also interrupted the yokes who were having a party and them killing all the humans plus destroying infrastructure really pissed the yokai  off. Most yokai had moved to live out of sight from the humans because of the rise of technology and they find both humans and curses annoying. Gojo is taking care of the curses in the train station and their fight is interrupted by the yokais’ clan leader--Enji. He has lived very long and he ordered his subordinates to kill the curses and modified humans because they were making a mess of things.  Gojo is excited. Gojo is intrigued. This yokai looks exactly like the man that his sons from a parallel world said was his lover. And the story goes from there. Most Yokais live in a separate dimension created from their power that is connected to the mortal world. They usually have entrances that’s in remote places or with less foot traffic (like in deep mountains or cracks/tiny spaces in cities). That is why most sorcerers and humans haven’t seen them around. Some of them still live in the mortal world but set up barriers or try their best to merge in. They get easily mistaken as curses, which they find insulting. They especially don’t appreciate Getou’s Hundred Demon Parade. Yokai!Enji: -Short red hair and striking turquoise eyes. -Wears a black kimono with a red yukata, carried a smoking pipe with the tip tinted gold and there is a red tassel hanging off its end, connected to a gold bell and jade beads. Keeps his right hand sling out of his kimono. -Isn’t as bulky as Canon Endeavour but still the same height -Enjoys watching the little/weaker yokais mess around while he hangs out around a window or somewhere comfortable. Will drink and lazily listen in on gossips about the human world occasionally. -Sometimes come over to the human world with his subordinates to ensure things on this side isn’t out of hand. -His territory is the entire eastern side of Japan.  -Mostly ignores Gojo’s courting attempts, but will mess with him or blast him with some fire if the human is over his head.  

[thedemonstherapist]

The Colour Of Trust

Summary: To demons, humans are a feast in every literal sense. You make no exception.

Wordcount: ~1000 

Pairing: Implicated demon brothers + Barbatos + Diavolo x GN!MC/Reader 

Warnings: None to note (if necessary, let me know)

Author’s Note: Popping in from my Hiatus to deliver you this. Not edited nor proofread, just an idea I’ve been working at. Colourful wordvomit.

To demons, human emotions are palpable. 

They’re colourful. Bright reds, deep shades of green, melancholic hues of lilac. Dark blue pearls off a figure like drops of water, or glows from under the skin of a palm. There��s sunny yellow, vibrating in the throat. Soft pink, painted along collarbones and shoulders. Humans are a rainbow of every colour, shifting, as a chameleon would, from one to another in seconds, mixing orange with black, brown and blue, grey and purple, silver, green, gold, white, red, pink, becoming something new entirely. They’re always noticeable to a demon’s eye, lavish, alluring, opposing, annoying, pleasing. 

They’re tasteful. Happiness dissolves on the tongue, or becomes harder to chew the more you try. Sadness can have so many variations - one time, it’s salty, the next, bitter, then sweet. Generally, the sinful, negative, hurtful, painfilled ones are the most delicious to the demon kind. Jealousy is sour, delightfully so, mingled with anger it becomes an explosive sensation of acidity. Lust tastes overripe, foul with sweetness, dripping down the neck and hips. Wrath is pungent, sometimes wet, sometimes solid, always overwhelming and intense. Greed is addicting, citrousy, never filling, always lacking some edge, something more. Gluttony is the opposite - too much, too much, too much of it all, assaulting the senses, lucious in its entirety. Pride, pride tastes like expense, gnawing on stone or metal, but honeyed. Sloth is familiar, cinnamon and lavender, nostalgia but past that, tart and obnoxious. Smell is often washed away by taste, aligning with it, but barely traceable.

It is rare to be able to hear them. To hear the deep, sonorous bell of blame. The high, melodic song of adoration. The fluttering caution, the whine of grief, the rustling of excitement. Hate is roaring, anxiety ringing, both constantly shifting in pitch. They are so inditing, if you manage to catch them, but most get hidden behind the body’s sounds, heartbeat, breath, gurgling, vibrations, tearing. 

Humans are a feast of emotion. Many demons partake in it, lick the sourness off their skin, watch neon pink and green draw lines through faces, listen to quivers, chimes, cries mingle and fade, if they can. 

Most learn to control it, to heighten and lower their perception as they please, but it is fundamental, bred into their beings, to see emotion and to act upon it, to lure depending on which shade of colour, taste, smell, sound is most prominent. 

So how could they not notice it on you too?

As much as they collectively try to act as though they couldn’t, that they didn't know what rushes through your mind and body at a moment's notice, they’ll inevitably fail. They can’t be human, as much as they would like to be that for you. And their own desires flourish when yours become more obvious, never able to hide. 

The problem is, you become addicting the second you allow them to partake in their senses. 

It’s difficult to keep their hands away when you visibly crave affection. To not rile you up further when anger flavours the air around you. To reassure instead of patronise you, just to keep watching that beautiful glow of colours shift. 

And as to their individual sins - well, that’s a battle they’ve already lost. 

Satan loves, indulges in that one type of wrath you feel when nobody listens to you, so fiery, velvet on his tongue. Belphie can never help but tempt you to fall into laziness, just to hear that contented humm of self-blame and undeserved satisfaction. Mammon lusts after that specific shade of yellowish golden that appears in your eyes, and he will do all to bring it forth. Asmo could carelessly sink his fangs into you, if only it meant to taste the sugary syrup that lust brings with it. Levi, usually so shy, would a thousand times show you up, only appeased once bright orange radiates from your veins. Lucifer is consumed by the rhythmic pulse of your overconfidence, even the playful type has a mesmerising melody. Beel would rather run his lips along your cheek, breathe in that delectably heavy, intense aroma, than attend the royal banquet. 

And the royals? Diavolo and Barbatos, what flavour, what song, what shade, do they prefer? 

Nothing less than your absolute surrender.

That desire doesn’t escape the brothers either - The Lords of Sin, as they are. To see you crumble, falter under it. To give up morality, good will, patience and virtue, to become that royal blue, sickly sweetness, loud buzz as the only thing you are. They want to see you writhe in pain and pleasure together and still crave more. To abandon all to become nothing and everything. 

To give them the thing that tastes the best, the thing that made you human. 

It hurts to know you’re never safe from that, that you might not be more than dessert to them. That they could snap, become more infatuated with what you can’t control than who you are, bend you to their will with little effort. But still, there is seduction in danger, some deep, dark desire that only rises when fangs get bared, wings flare, tails smack the floor. Loss of restraint, whether by lust or love. 

Maybe the reason you stay is not despite it, but because of it. Maybe it’s the reason you give them more than you have to. To allow boundaries to slowly fall, to engage in tiny parts of their desires, then more, then more. The moment you know you could never hide feelings is seperate from when you begin to stop trying to. They are demons, after all, but they’re your friends as well, maybe more. 

It’s a mess, of course it is. Nothing stays straightforward and easy. But that’s what makes it beautiful to them - colour, sound, taste, forming to paint you in what you feel, continuously different, never the same. 

Always a masterpiece. 

You wonder what colour trust has. 

[realityhelixcreates]

Lasabrjotr Chapter 77: Like a Good Old-Fashioned Barn Raising

Chapters: 77/?

Fandom: Thor (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe

Rating: pg

Relationships: Loki x Reader

Characters: Loki (Marvel),

Additional Tags: Post-Endgame: Best Possible Ending (Canon-Divergent), Party Time

Summary:  Buridag begins!

Loki was awake long before you were, getting preparations ready, loose ends tied up, last minute orders sent out. He allowed you to sleep until you woke on your own, having removed his little illusory alarms from you some time ago.

Sometimes flower petals still rained upon you, and perfume rose from your footsteps, but no more snakes in the bath.

So you rose slowly, stretching and yawning the grogginess away at your own pace. Time was very hard to tell by looking out windows at this time of year, but when Loki entered the room carrying an egg sandwich, a little pile of fresh potato chips, and a glass of coffee, you placed yourself firmly within brunch territory.

Loki flicked on your sunlamp, gestured at the chair, and handed you your brunch once you'd taken your seat.

You munched your food and absorbed your light while Loki laid out the day's plans. You'd get dressed in a ceremonial outfit that included your armor and helmet, and join the parade that was gathering even now.

They were initially going to put you on Sleipnir. You had asked them not to. Sleipnir was magnificent, but you had no connection to him, nor to Leynarodd, who was the second choice. Your sweet, stout, shaggy little Acorn was who you preferred, a horse that belonged to no one initially, but who had formed a trusting bond with you.

Your clothing was, predictably, green, the underdress and apron a dark mossy color, hemmed on all edges with fine gold braid, embroidered with stripes of delicate knotwork, and your mark, also in gold. Over the top of this went your quilted tunic, in it's shimmering jade, and then your armor; the breastplate, the tassets, the bracers, pauldrons, greaves, and poleyns, though the last two were not visible. They went on over the leather trousers you'd been given to wear under your dress. They were sleek things, made of tough black leather, pleated in diagonal patterns, just like something Loki would wear. You thought the pleats had the advantage of putting more leather between you and any danger, and were flexible as well.

There were actually places where your familiar oval brooches could be fastened, your strings of shining beads strung between, your chatelaine dangled. Your belt was tooled leather and brass findings, hung with a leather purse, your Yggdrasil phone case, a small drinking horn carved with your mark, and of course, your knife. A little burst of deep pink against all the gold, green, and black.

You wore a minty-green velvet cape, a gift from Andsvarr, and your beautiful helmet to top it all off. You truly looked like something out of a fantasy novel, someone who looked like they should be standing next to the legendary figure that Loki currently cut.

He looked enormous, with his many asymmetrical layers, and molded shoulder guards, his billowing cape and hair spilling from beneath his magnificent curling horns. He shone with nornbein, and his cloak, shot with silk, shimmered subtly.

“You're so beautiful.” you mumbled. Loki smiled, and leaned down to adjust your cape, cheeks dusted with pink.

“Thank you.” he said, “I make every attempt. Though I think I will fade into the background under the power of your radiance.”

Warmth rushed to your face.

“Um, I know we've got to hurry and get Acorn, but I want to ask you a favor, Loki.”

“Anything. Tell me what it is and I'll make it so.”

You took a deep breath.

“I need you to stop trying to impress my father.”

The pink on his cheeks transformed into bright red.

“Ah. Yes, I rather hashed that, didn't I? I apologize. I thought that was still standard procedure, but your father, uh, explained otherwise.”

“Mhm, I'll bet he did. Look, I know you wanted to surprise us, but when it comes to things like that, you really oughta run it by me first. I could have told you that wouldn't work out the way you thought it would. You know, saved you from being chewed out like that. You can let me save you sometimes too.”

“ Like with the Huldra.”

“Kinda. Dad's not as bloodthirsty as she was, but he's a lot more stubborn.”

“Like father, like daughter, hm?” he teased.

“You have not seen me be stubborn yet.” you warned, and he gave you a quick smooch.

“A blessing, I'm sure. Very well, I agree. Surprises get run by you. Anything to save me from another tongue lashing. That man truly does not hold back.”

“I mean it though.” you persisted. “I'm not saying that you can't have any surprises at all, but talk to me about big stuff like that. If it's something that Asgardian law or custom would demand, but would be insulting to a human, we can maybe hash out an alternative that would satisfy both. That's the point, isn't it? Please, I really don't want to deal with anymore trouble between you two. Don't get hung up on impressing him, he has every reason to reject it, and he will. No more gifts, no toasts, no calling attention to him in public, nothing. He hates being the center of attention. Just let him be a guest, and see, without interference, that his little girl is doing fine on her own.”

“I really didn't mean to make him so angry.” Loki said, a little crestfallen. “And the more I tried to explain, the angrier he became. I just wanted him to know how much I value you. I wanted you to know too.”

“Material culture is different where I'm from. There are places in the world where that would have been understood and appreciated, but we've stopped doing it. In the same vein, fathers don't make all the decisions for their daughters anymore, so you don't actually need his approval. But...I need you to understand, it's not just that you took away his child, though that's bad enough. It's that I'm the only family he has left. My grandma only had one kid, and that was my dad. And she's dead, and so's my granddad, before I was even born. And then my mom died, and Beth too, and so I'm all that's left for him. And I have this giant Sword of Damocles hanging over my head all the time, and he's had to worry about that for my whole life. Most of the women on my mom's side all died from this, but occasionally, rarely, there's one that doesn't. I'm starting to hope that might be me. Maybe the magic is protecting me. But he's not going to be able to accept that so easily. I'm all he had left, and you took me away. That's all that's going to be important to him. You didn't even have to do the things you did in New York, this is the worst possible crime you could commit, in his eyes.”

Loki heaved a sigh of remorse. “And I cannot even return you to him. It seems there is one more thing I cannot set right.”

“The best you can do is make sure I'm okay. And don't bother him anymore. And maybe let him come visit more often. The more he sees me living my life and being fine, the more confidence he will have that I'm actually safe here.”

“I shall endeavor to help you thrive.” Loki promised.

“All right, so if that's settled, we should go get our horses.”

                                                                         ******

Acorn was, like you, a bit overdressed in your opinion. Long tabbards and blankets covered her from nose to rump, green and gold, embroidered with oak leaves. They were so long, they almost brushed the ground. Ribbons were braided into her wild mane and tail, and bells jingled with every movement. Like you, she could barely be seen under her splendor. But she was probably warm, and happily accepted a carrot from your hand. Placid as always, she let you up on her back, and fell into step behind Leynarodd, who likewise, followed up behind Sleipnir, whose hooves still rang like bells even over the thin layer of packed snow that covered the recently cleared streets.

There was a whole procession of people-this was a parade after all, and Thor, on Sleipnir, was preceded by the twin Valkyries, carrying Asgardian banners, as well as several musicians, and Beli, who chanted an ancient epic on the exploits of Buri.

Saga had translated the chant for you a while ago, and it sounded something like the sensationalized, self-aggrandizing boasts of pharaohs, or Mesopotamian kings-the kind that claimed to be rulers of the world, or rulers of the heavens themselves, to have battled armies of demons, killed giant lions with only a stick-that sort of thing. But when Beli called out those verses in such an ancient dialect of Asgardian, the words themselves felt powerful.

Thor followed slowly, Sliepnir plodding along, both of them absolutely huge. Loki and Leynarodd came right behind, only slightly smaller. And then you and Acorn, almost comical in your stature, diminutive by comparison. You were keenly aware of it, but either all of Asgard was too polite to say anything about it, or they simply didn't care.

The human guests, corralled in roped off areas, whooped and cheered when when you passed. Behind you, more musicians played, and a circle of Seidkonas walked in silent dignity. Then came more banners, the rest of the Valkyries, representatives of each noble house and guild, and the rest of the Aesir in Asgard, provided they didn't already have another position in the parade.

After them, the gathered Asgardians began following, lengthening out the procession, bright balls of magical light bobbing overhead. The sun had barely peeked over the horizon, and would be slinking away in a mere three or so hours, so the mage lights sparkled everywhere. Helpful Einherjar herded the humans to the next specially roped off area, so they could follow the parade as well; you caught a few amused faces at the playful rowdiness displayed by celebrating humans.

That was just how humans were when they were excited about something. Humans loved to holler, to jump, and dance, and clap. Some of them were even trying to keep time with the music.

You weren't actually able to pick out your father or Tara in the crowd, nor anyone else you knew, so you just kept your head forward and your back straight, trying to look as dignified as you could.

You'd only ever seen a few of what you considered 'proper' parades: in a small town a parade mostly consisted of people waving from the backs of neighborhood pickup trucks and tractors, maybe decorated with balloons or paper chains, blasting music from dusty old speakers. In the autumn, there might be pumpkins and corn stalks, and usually hayrides. But never anything like this spectacle.

As you got closer to the construction site, the apprentice mages responsible for all the floating lights started throwing sparks from their hands, like colorful sparklers. The gathered Asgardians began lining up in their designated areas, ready to play their part. The foundations had already been dug, and everything that needed to go into them was already there. All that remained was the pouring.

Thor, Loki, and yourself dismounted as close to in unison as you could manage, the horses carefully lead away to a temporary enclosure. You headed to the stack of decorative bricks, and took your place among the Asgardians there, while Thor gave the order for the cement to pour.

While this went on, Beli gathered his students and skalds in front of the Huldrastone to recite a modern epic. Within the first few verses you realized that it was about the Huldra's attack, and your confrontation with her.

Of course, the poem was much cleaner and more elegant than the actual events had been, but certain things had still been included. Your ears burned beneath your helmet when Beli reached the part where you had 'bestowed upon the fallen prince, a gentle sacrificial kiss, knowing that to trade life for life would grant him breath once more.'

You had finally spotted your father and Tara in the crowd; he crossed his arms and glared upon hearing the verse, while Tara gave you a cheezy grin and thumbs up.

As the poem reached its conclusion, the cement finished pouring, and a new recitation began. As Thor and Loki knelt and began scratching ritual runes into the wet cement, Beli's current group of student came forward and began telling the story of Beli, while apprentice mages illustrated the words with colorful, stylized illusions.

There were harrowing battles against huge stone people, the construction of the original Bifrost, which at that time connected a fleet of alien ships to one another. The illusions showed the gathering of construction materials, the building of a platform in space, and the grand revelation of the crystalline platform upon which Asgard slowly grew. Mountain and plain, river and ocean, building after magnificent building rose into the sky. Their ships captured and carved an asteroid, then set it in orbit as a bright new moon. All this was accomplished by the use of a glowing, icy blue cube that was difficult to look directly at. It was compelling though; it caught and held your attention with its beautiful, sparkling light.

You knew what that device was: you had learned about it in your lessons with Saga. It was the object known as the Tesseract, a four dimensional creation meant to house the incredible energy of an Infinity Stone. Perhaps that was why it was simultaneously fascinating, yet hard to perceive. Your curious human brain was drawn to its uniqueness, yet equally unable to fully fathom it.

That device was the key to Asgard's existence and eventual success. It was unthinkable to you that Odin had just lost it on Earth, as Sagas histories had proclaimed. It must have been a terrible loss.

Thor and Loki completed their carving, and began the process of imbuing the foundations with divine power. Goosebumps rose on your arms, and there was a pricking in your sinuses, like you were about to sneeze. There was almost a flavor to it.

The actual blessing didn't take nearly as long as the rune carving ritual, and soon, the two brothers stepped back, to allow others to begin their work. More mages worked a spell together that lifted the water out of the cement, drying it within moments. People came forward with wires and pipes, floor and wall supports, insulation, hammers, plaster, bricks, and mortar. In rotating lines people laid flooring and installed fixtures, scraped grout and assembled frames. Every now and then youths moved through, sweeping up dust, always away from you.

It suddenly became clear that that was why you were so far back in line, why you'd been assigned a decorative brick, something that would be placed near the very end of the construction. There would be no dust then. Gratitude swelled in your chest, but you said nothing. There was singing now, simple, repetitive melodies that sounded like work songs.

Every hour, volunteers carted huge, heated cauldrons around the lines and groups of human spectators, dipping out hot drinks like witch's potions, and it was possible that there was a simple sort of magic in things like hot chocolate, strong coffee, and buttered rum on a cold day.

The building went up faster than you thought possible, the widows, doors, and lights being set into place as auroras began ribboning across the sky.

Finally, there was one brick left. You lifted it up, as the singing seemed to intensify, scooped some mortar from the pail, and fitted it all into the only remaining slot. Giving the brick a light pat to make sure it was secure, you turned back to the assembled crowd.

“We did it.” You said, and the cheering began.