#ft. beelzebub

[everymephistopheles]

[marathedemonoverlord]

Obey Me Headcanon: Lucifer has you stop Beelzebub from raiding the fridge because initially he wanted you to get killed/injured but now you're the only one who can stop Beel.

[do-not-lick-the-walls]

a devil put aside | chapter six - communion

masterlist | read on ao3

(gif via @goodsirs)

beelzebub x fallen angel!reader

summary: you have a drink with the council.

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The glasses ring when they knock together.

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

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

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

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

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

You don't say that.

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

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

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

Beez???

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You try anyway.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh.

Fuck.

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

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

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

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

"Mmmmmnnhhhnn," you respond.

"What's that?"

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

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

"You're so nice."

[simpfulclown]

entirely dedicated to and inspired by @levi4thans thank u for putting that image on my feed, hope u like it<3

original ↓

[goldenteaset]

I love Beelzebub and Belial's dynamic so much, even as I feel sorry for Bubs that he has to deal with this guy. It's like he has no choice, he has to see if this time Belial will let him kick the metaphorical football.

And every time Belial is all "C'mon Bubs, you're so big and strong, I bet you'll kick it right over the fence--ALLY-OOP~"

[isforever]

@shortpride  ♥︎'d  for  a  starter  from  BEELZEBUB  !

    “luci!  honey!"  expression  lights  up,  it  feels  like  so  long  since  she's  seen  him!  she  can't  hide  her  excitement,  immediately  eager  to  babble  and  make  up  for  anyone  lost  time.  “you  made  it!  i  like,  told  tex  you  were  gonna  show,  but  he  didn't  believe  me…  but  now  you're  here,  and  it's  been  so  long,  luci!  your  game  all  the  way  to  gluttony  just  to  party  with  me!”  takes  his  hands,  the  sin  can't  help  but  beam.  “but  you  have  to  tell  me  everything!  i  heard  all  about  your  daguhter  and  her  hotel?  you  should've  brought  her,  she  would've  had  a  blast….  you  think  you  can  handle  some  of  this?”  grabs  a  glass  from  the  nearest  table,  offers  it  to  him.  “only  the  best  for  you,  you  know  me,”  a  wink,  wings  fluttering  with  joy.  “what  have  you  been  up  to?  i  swear,  satan  is  gonna  have  a  shit  fit  if  you  don't  start  answering  his  calls!”

[spellbcok]

@mischiefxmuses asked: “ be savage, not average. ” - bee to blair

blair scoffed. "is that some sort of self-affirmation you're reciting? because surely you couldn't be talking about me. i have never in my life been average." and if anyone said otherwise, blair would make them eat their words.

[erthlyheavn]

"Only 7 ft? You all are so TINY~"

[ofbrokenhalos]

STARTER / @offallenfeathers​ (Beelzebub)

Lailah grinned as Beel approached her. “Hey, Chef,” she embraced him tightly. She’d asked Asmo to fill her in on the good things only and Beel was featured in a lot of the good things. Of course, some bad news was sprinkled in with the good like the fact that her brother was still frozen in solid gold, but perhaps that had been a blessing all things considered. She didn’t think Laute would’ve taken her death all that well. It would’ve been hard to keep him alive while tending to Nadia’s needs. And she had to admit, Beel had done a wonderful job raising her niece. “I’m glad you’re here. I was trying to make chocolate chip cooties like Nadia had shown me but…” she frowned. “They didn’t turn out right. I can’t tell where I went wrong.” She moved aside so that he could observe the lumpy cookies. 

[pillow-anime-talk]

goddess of peace.

request: can you do any record of ragnarok’s gods character with a female reader who is like zhongli from genshin impact?

# tags: headcanon; strangers to lovers or current relationships or marriage relationships; light romance; a bit of fluff; goddess!reader; calm!reader; sfw

includes: female reader ft. hades, poseidon, heracles, loki & beelzebub {ror}

author’s note: yaaaay first ror request!! gimme more

— HADES

↘ You impressed many gods with your ever calm expression and voice that soothed everyone to sleep or healed mental wounds. No matter what you said, your gentle, almost shy smile and willingness to help made everyone on Olympus and during important meetings agree with you, although you often asked them to oppose your ideas in case of objections.

↘ Many deities gossip about your marriage to Hades – Lord of Death and King of the Underworld. Hades was the man feared by the entire Greek Pantheon, a class of his own and a god who had lived in solitude for thousands of years, his only friend for eternity being himself. So how did a beautiful, gentle, nature-loving woman like you fall in love with him and decide to live in Helheim? You were, after all, the Goddess of Calligraphy, The protector of Artists.

↘ The answer is very simple though. Hades is a secretive romantic and though the flowers you got from him were always withered, they were always the most beautiful gift you could receive because you knew his feelings were sincere. So, although you often missed the view of the sky, the warmth of the sun, running deer or the view of lakes and fields stretching from Mount Olympus, life with Hades was really wonderful, and he was a gallant gentleman bravely leading you by the hand.

↘ Your aura full of peace and nostalgia for the world of the living gave the underworld colors and warmth.

— POSEIDON

↘ Your close friend was Zeus, who one day organized a grand banquet for an unknown occasion. As his good friend, the Goddess of Science and Philosophy, you sat right next to him at a huge, round table on which meat dishes, all fresh fruits and vegetables, as well as sweets and wine barrels were arranged. Right next to your left sat the King of the Seas and at the same time the older brother of your best friend. Poseidon never got to know you, though of course he heard your name more than once when he spoke to his brothers and the other gods of Olympus.

↘ You were the definition of calm and prudence; your sparkling eyes studied each guest attentively, and you listened to each story with the greatest concentration. From time to time you answered questions from other, more important gods, thanking for each compliment, remark or approval. The fair-haired man didn’t say much that evening, but for the first time in ages he stayed at the table until the end of the meeting and sometimes, without a word, offering you another glass of alcohol or fresh fruit (in his mind, throughout the party, he wrote the dishes you tasted and the sweets that made the biggest smile on your face).

↘ Poseidon was delighted with you, though he couldn’t admit it. Of course he would never do that, especially among other Greek deities. This would create gossip and unnecessary attention to him. He also didn’t want you to feel embarrassed by unpleasant questions or comments.

↘ At the end of a meeting that seemed to last for years, everyone slowly returning to their realms. You also thanked for the meal and amazing company, saying ‘Goodbye’ to Zeus and the others. Poseidon followed you wordlessly. Before the handsome god submerged into the cold water, in gratitude for the nice time he gave you one of the seashells he once found at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean. Its shell was white and sparkled like a diamond. Before you could thank him though, Poseidon disappeared into the sea foam and you blushed hardly.

↘ In the world of the gods, giving another person a gift related to the profession of a patron was equivalent to a confession of feelings or a proposal.

— HERACLES

↘ Heracles from the first time he saw you (more than two thousand years ago) knew that you would be his and would do anything to protect your beautiful soul and precious smile. You were the Queen of the Forest and Meadows, so your nature was calm, patient and also timid. Heracles, on the other hand, as a hero and a man for whom respect for a woman was in the first place, of course, wanted to show you how much you mean to him and how precious flower you are.

↘ His behavior and feelings were very visible. He was like a teenager in love with a huge smile and a fast heartbeat whenever he received words of gratitude from you or small compliments about his strength, agility and acts of heroism towards animals or people.

↘ He is literally delighted and acts like a five-year-old after receiving a candy when you agree to go on a date with him. He probably stays awake for the next week, not eating, and begs Aphrodite and Apollo on his knees to help him with his hair and clothes. He is more than stressed when he thinking about your meeting, but he does not forget for a microsecond a bouquet of your favorite flowers, which he gives you with a shy smile, telling you how beautiful you look that day.

↘ When you thank him for them and take his strong, slightly rough from fighting hand, he almost faints, but don’t worry. It will definitely be the best date in the history of the Greek Pantheon.

— LOKI

↘ You are his opposite. No one among the Norse gods (and in general all deities that exist) understands your relationship and sincerely sympathizes with you, because Loki is the biggest rascal and jester. However, you don’t think you need sympathy or sad looks; on the contrary – next to him you feel really safe and good. This boy is very considerate of you and really appreciates that someone like the Norse Goddess of Poetry took an interest in him and gave him her fragile heart.

↘ Of course, he’s still a bit mischievous towards you, but his pranks never make you angry or sad. It’s more like jokes about Loki turning into an animal or running away from your kisses, flying high so you can’t reach him.

↘ God of Mischief is like a faithful dog when it comes to you. He always stays close to you, always takes a seat to your left, always looks at your interlocutor with bored eyes, and always tries to get your attention with loud laughter, singing and questions. He is a little attention hoe.

↘ Loki, alone with you, is a little poetry expert who brags to you how many books he has read and what new achievements he has made. He is concerned when he sees your sadness – then he tries hard to cheer you up with silly faces and at the same time puts on a mask of seriousness when he sees that you need a longer and serious conversation. Of course, then he will fly away again and pretend to be a mosquito, but as soon as he comes back to you, he will give you a million kisses. After all, you have exactly eternity for your love.

— BEELZEBUB

↘ He was horrified when he realized you were more than just a friend to him. He decided to distance himself, but you quickly knocked that idea out of his head, proposing a conversation. Of course, your calm voice and small smile immediately soothed the God of Darkness and made him believe that he would be happy with you.

↘ Being the Goddess of Light and Life was completely at odds with who you married after many years. You were like a beautiful tulip and he was a dried chrysanthemum. Extremely different, but perfectly complementary in terms of your characters and feelings. Your calm nature always soothed Beelzebub’s racing thoughts and his sad eyes, which still seemed not to understand why you gave your precious heart to the one possessed by Satan.

↘ However, you were happy with him and although his hand was always cold and his face was pale and often without a smile, you thought that he was the man you wanted to live with until the end of the world and one more day.

↘ Beelzebub had to admit it – he was damn in love with you and your beautiful aura was what honestly illuminated his previously bleak life. From the moment he met you, the man wanted to live and develop again. With such a queen by his side, nothing could destroy him.

[everymephistopheles]

[goodomenshq]

📚The Good Omens graphic novel Kickstarter mega post 📚

As we enter the last hours of the Good Omens graphic novel Kickstarter, here’s a recap of ALL the items you can get and how to get them. We’ll also answer some of the main questions you’ve had.

Get yours here!

*

TIERS

THE HUMAN TIER (£25 GBP) includes one copy of the Good Omens graphic novel. All of the stretch goal embellishments (foiling, ribbon, foreword, afterword, extra pages, etc) cover every level (including early bird). Every backer also gets a bookmark. This also includes the foreword and afterword by Michael Sheen, David Tennant, and Jon Hamm.

*

THE SERPENT TIER (£40 GBP) includes one copy of the Good Omens graphic novel, a dust jacket* featuring an alt cover by Frank Quitely and Loot Pack #1*, which is full of goodies. *Stretch goals have added to these items, full info below.

The alt cover dust jacket is now reversible, with the other side featuring this by Rachael Stott in b&w.

✔️Serpent gets the dust jacket for your graphic novel.

✖ It does not have a print of this image. The colour version is available as an add on.

Loot Pack #1 originally featured 2 x Colleen Doran prints (including a brand new piece), a postcard and bookmark. Fans have unlocked additional Colleen prints, some colouring pages, as well as *many* prints from other artists… You have unlocked prints from Rachael Stott (different to the alt cover image), Sarah Graley, David Aja, Mark Buckingham, Tanya Roberts, Paul Kidby, Alice Oseman and Anna Morozova, as well as the Frank Quitely cover as a print.

We’ve been asked a lot about Alice Oseman's prints, so to clarify: if you back the Serpent Tier or above, you will get Alice's print featuring Aziraphale, as well as the newly commissioned Crowley to complete the pair.

*

THE HELLHOUND TIER (£120 GBP) includes the prior tiers + Loot Pack #2, ft. Crowley and Aziraphale enamel pins, stickers, and a pack of the Good Omens trading cards. These will be playable. Tier backers can also get rare cards in their order at random.

*

THE WITCHFINDER TIER (£200 GBP) has all of this, plus an exquisite map by Julien Labit. Dimensions will be approximately 594 x 841 mm.

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THE DEMON TIER (£320 GBP) is a creative punch from head to toe, with five additional enamel pins (including Dog), some snazzy socks, and two creator themed notebooks, one for your inner Pratchett, the other for your inner Gaiman.

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THE HORSEMEN TIER (£500 GBP) is the Demon Tier + A3 Giclee print from the graphic novel, signed by Colleen Doran, plus the exclusive Beelzebub enamel pin, and Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett collector's enamel pin set.

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THE OBSIDIAN TIER (£3k) builds on the Horsemen Tier with copies of the new, limited Obsidian editions (GO illustrated edition, graphic novel & William the Antichrist), signed by Neil Gaiman & artists, and a one-of-a-kind trading card by Colleen Doran.

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For booksellers, we have two options: The Small Bookshop Tier (10 copies) and The Bookshop Tier (20 copies), both of which offer a 50% trade discount. There are also add ons of 10 and 20 copies for shops looking to order more.

*

ADD ONS

The campaign itself ends at 11.59pm UK time on 31 August, so there’s still time to get your pledges in. Let’s move onto the add ons via Kickstarter...

How do you add more to your pledge? This link on Kickstarter should help. You effectively re-select the tier you’ve chosen, and then it will take you to the add on section. This works even if your tier is sold out, or was time sensitive (Nightingale).

Unlike tiers, you are not limited to one choice with add ons. You can get additional copies of the graphic novel, mugs, slipcases, the graphic novel oversized edition, and more. Rachael Stott's Eternal Encounter print is available also.

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A.Z. FELL & CO ADD ONS. Includes: Bookmark, mug, socks, tote bag. The bookmark is different / higher end than those included with every copy of the graphic novel.

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TRADING CARDS. You can get a trading card booster pack. These will have at least six cards. The Hellhound Tier is where to get the larger, playable base pack. Base packs will be available down the road via the new merch store, but cheapest via the Kickstarter.

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ENAMEL PIN ADD ONS We have two pairs of Aziraphale and Crowley pins (£10 per set). We also have mystery packs of three available (£12). You can see the full pin information and designs so far at http://goodomenshq.com.

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While pins #005 onwards will be part of the mystery packs, they may pop up at events or in flash sales of specific items. We will give fans as much notice as possible when these exciting events will happen.

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BOOKSHOP ADD ONS. Bookshops who have backed either of the retail tiers will be able to add packs of 10 or 20 additional books onto their pledge. These tiers must be delivered to a bookshop address. These are also at 50% trade discount.

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OBSIDIAN ADD ONS. While the Obsidian Tier collects all three books, you can add the Obsidian Edition of the Good Omens illustrated edition, the Good Omens graphic novel, or William the Antichrist - signed by Neil - to pledges at any level.

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Add ons are available for every tier level. Add ons will also be available after the Kickstarter, however will be cheapest via the campaign. We know a lot of people have been asking, so if 31 August is too short notice, worry not!

*

FAQ

Q: Will the graphic novel be available after the Kickstarter finishes? A: Yes. It will be available via PledgeManager, and subsequently on goodomenshq.com when that becomes the wider merch store.

Q: Will tiers be available after the Kickstarter finishes? A: Yes. Some will be available for an additional time on PledgeManager to allow those who couldn’t access the Kickstarter for a variety of reasons. This will go live at some point after the project finishes.

Q: Will the add ons be available after the Kickstarter finishes? A: Yes. Though Kickstarter will be the cheapest way to get the add ons, these will be made more widely available at a slight price increase after the campaign ends.

Q: I couldn’t back the Kickstarter due to payment issues. Can I use Paypal / other methods? A: We believe PledgeManager will be able to integrate the wider payment methods, including Paypal, for those who couldn’t back with a card. This is TBC. Longer term, this will be an option on goodomenshq.com when it opens as the official merch store.

Q: Shipping is charged after. Why do we not have the final numbers yet? A: We’ve been working across the campaign to bring estimates down further; the page will have new numbers as we have them pre-31 Aug, however we will be working over the coming months to get the best price for backers worldwide once the weights are locked in. Our goal is to get the best value for supporters and not overcharge by locking in this early.

Q: If it will all be available later, what difference is there in backing the Kickstarter? A: All backers get an individual discount code for the Good Omens HQ merch store when it opens in the future, so you can get money off further items. We’ve got some fun things that we’re planning to do via backer updates post-campaign too. More on that… later. You’ll still get plenty of ineffable joy either way though!

Q: Is there anywhere I can sign up for updates? A: Yes! Good Omens HQ will have a mailing list. You can sign up here.

Get yours here!

[do-not-lick-the-walls]

a devil put aside | chapter two - angel's advocate

masterlist | read on ao3

(lovely gif by @goodsirs!)

beelzebub x fallen angel!reader

summary: after saving you, beelzebub attempts to convince their dark council to give you a chance.

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

warnings: strong language, smoking, some religious themes

-----

This meeting has been going on for two hours, and in that time, astoundingly little progress has been made, even by Hell's standards. This may actually be a new record for Least Gotten Done In Two Hours.

Beelzebub has spent these last two hours leaning back with their feet on the table, fiddling with their cufflinks, and losing their mind.

An odd (and, frankly, unpleasant) cocktail of feelings swishes around inside them. One moment it'll settle in their chest or lower spine, only to be reanimated at the slightest thought and go back to sloshing through their body. Some of it, they understand---boredom, irritation, both good friends of theirs---but some of it is unfamiliar. Or, at least, estranged to them.

Amongst those usual, dull emotions that often accompany Dark Council meetings, there's an uncomfortable fluttering of the heart. An urge to shift in their seat, to leave, as if they're afraid, or... no, not afraid, just... something adjacent to it.

Whatever this is, Beez is quite sure they're not a fan, and the way it's roughing up against the sound of Dagon wasting time is starting to get torturous.

Are we really sure it's her?"

"For the last time, Dagon, yes. It's her."

"How do you know?"

"I saw her face."

"Faces can change. You change yours."

"Yes, but---" Beez groans, pinching the bridge of their nose in an attempt not to smite their coworker. "Why would someone else have her face?"

"I don't know!"

Dagon's insistence on checking, double-checking, and deca-checking everything is exactly what makes her an excellent Lord of Files-slash-Master of Torments, and a real pain in the ass during emergencies. Everything's a trap with her, something she's got to unravel between those pointy teeth.

"She could be a... what's that human thing? Trojan Goat! She could be a Trojan Goat!"

"What the heaven are you on about?" The smoke off Hastur's cigarette curls, and Beez's insides go swimming again as they're reminded of your smoking wings.

"Upstairs could just want us to think she's Fallen," Dagon explains, "How do we know she's not an angel in disguise?"

"I literally found her smoking, wings broken, having smashed through the damn ceiling, remember?"

"I went to see the damage," Hastur says, "It was rather impressive, actually."

"How is that relevant?" Asks Dagon, Lord of Irrelevant Questions.

Beez throws their hands up. "Because if she wasn't Fallen, there wouldn't be a huge fucking hole in the ceiling!"

Had this meeting been about anything else, Beez would consider Dagon's point. It's a smart one. But you aren't a Trojan Goat. You just aren't. And this entire conversation isn't even really on topic, anyway.

They take a breath.

"The question we're trying to answer right now is what to do with her."

It's the fourth or fifth time Beez has coraled them back to this topic, in the hopes of getting their idea on the table, getting it agreed upon, and then getting themself out the door. So far, it's proven a massive failure every time. Probably because the council is made up of Dumb, Dumber, and Dagon, all of whom make getting off-track into an art form. But they can't exactly give up, here.

"I think---"

"Well, I could arrange eternal torment for her, or we could throw her in a really deep pit, or we could---"

"Actually, Dagon," Beez looks up from their fiddling. "I'd quite like to train her."

"You wot?"

Usually, Beelzebub cares about what their council has to say. They did hand-pick these three to advise them. But right now, after the events of tonight, Beez is resenting that they can't just decide shit themself sometimes. It's never that simple, is it? They've got a plan already forming, but instead of putting it into motion, they have to sit here and convince their own subordinates into a majority vote.

"I said I want to train her."

Dagon chews on her pen. "Beelzebub, with all due respect, that idea is absolute shit."

"And why's that?"

"Because she's a fucking angel!"

"Technically," Ligur finally joins the conversation, for better or worse. "She's not. Anymore."

"Still, you don't find it at all suspicious that a Seraph just fell out of nowhere? After six thousand years? Nobody's fallen since we did."

"I'm well aware of that, Dagon." Beez's voice starts to buzz with irritation, and they swallow it back down.

Ligur whistles. "She must've done something bad to get the boot after six thousand years."

"Thank you, that's what I've been trying to say, but Dagon here can't seem to get it through her thick skull---"

"Falling doesn't make her one of us, though," Hastur joins Dagon's team. "Who knows what her motives are?"

(Beez would hazard a guess that your motives include safety, comfort, and possibly revenge, if they're lucky, but they doubt these three would understand that.)

Ligur nods, making his chameleon wiggle. "She didn't side with us the first time, after all. And she's not someone to just be lettin' run amok without allegiance. Do you remember what she was like in the war?"

"Yes, I had an... unfortunate encounter with her on the battlefield." Hastur grimaces. Beez doesn't blame him. "Had a lot of wings. Felt like she could see me even when she wasn't looking. Probably could, now that I think about it." He shrugs, blowing a puff of smoke that once again sends their heart into that uncomfortable patter. "Does she still have all the wings?"

"No, just the two. Dunno what happened to the rest."

Beez remembers the wings. You had six of them, or maybe eight. Huge, when they were unfolded all the way. They remember you, even from before the war. They used to see you around sometimes. Ever-smiling, ever-playful.

You were radiant. And strange. Something just a little bit incomprehensible, even to other celestials. All Seraphim are like that. But you, in particular, Beez always thought you somewhat... ineffable. How could you not be? You made the prophets, every one. Nostradamus and Cassandra and Agnes Nutter; all blessed by you, fed with knowledge passed down from God herself. Beez only ever looked on you from afar, but part of them always wondered if you knew they were watching. If you saw them with all your hidden eyes.

And in the battle, Satan, in the battle, you were...

"Probably a good thing, makes her easier to contain." Hastur takes another drag. "I wouldn't care so much if she was a nobody, but considering..." He shakes his head. "Power translates. 'As above, so below' and all that. Best to be rid of her before she gets a handle on whatever she's got now."

There we go!  Beez pounces on that sentiment and twists its neck to their advantage. "Exactly. Power translates. If we do this right, we could have another Duke of Hell."

The point goes whooshing directly over Ligur's chameleon. "What's wrong with us?"

"Did I SAY anything was wrong with you?"

"We could always give her to Satan," Dagon chews thoughtfully on her pen. "He likes a snack every now and again."

"Or feed her to the hellhounds." Adds Hastur.

Ligur shakes his head. "We can feed anyone to the hellhounds, seems a bit of a waste."

Good, good, somebody's getting it---

"Feed her to some of the lesser demons, then. Throw 'em a bone. Morale's been low."

What the fuck, Hastur.

"Morale's always low, we're in hell." Ligur snatches Hastur's cigarette and takes a drag. He then hands it to his chameleon, who also takes a drag.

"We're not feeding her to anything!"

"Alright," Dagon narrows her eyes, folding her hands under her chin. "What's your plan, then?"

Finally.

"Like I've been saying: We make her into one of us. Properly."

In one motion, Beez swings their feet off the table, stands, and leans in.

"Hastur, you said it yourself. Powerful angels make powerful demons. You want to waste whatever chaos becomes of a Fallen Seraph?"

The council is silent for the first time in over two hours. Beez takes this as a sign to continue.

"I'd train her myself. With help from you all, of course, and whoever else as necessary. Think about it. We have a powder keg here, and one we can mold into whatever we need. You said morale's low, we could... I dunno, make her into head of... whatever that is. Or a new Lord of Temptations, or Master of Hellhounds, or whatever! The possibilities are endless, really."

That seems to finally crack the brick wall that Dagon's put up around her brain. But she's a fish of habit, and there's a variable that Beez hasn't addressed yet.

Here goes.

"How do we know she'll cooperate? And more importantly, not stab us in the back first chance she sees?"

This is, by far, the flimsiest piece of Beelzebub's argument. There's no guarantee that you'll even sign on, let alone become loyal to the cause. But Beez is nothing if not a good bullshiter, and the thought of you becoming dinner is making that fear-adjacent thing whirl around in their chest again, so they sit back down, and prepare to save your life via two of their greatest skills; false overconfidence, and making shit up.

"She'll cooperate."

All great bullshit begins with part of the truth. The trick is to build outward off of that truth, make it sound like more than it is. Beez has three pieces of not-really-evidence-but-close-enough at their disposal to spin off of. If they play their cards right, they can appeal to all three councilors.

"Three reasons."

Beez looks at each of them. Dagon, cautious and objective; Ligur, dense but thoughtful; Hastur... whatever Hastur is. But who first...

Ligur.

"One: I just saved her from being torn apart by those assholes over in Accounting. And I fixed her wings. She'll trust me, probably even feel indebted to me after that. She even said she trusted me before I left."

Ligur strokes his chameleon's tail, a gesture which usually means he's managing to make his brain work. The chameleon fades from green into blue.

Got 'im. He's always the easiest to sway with pure logic. Beez feels the smirk start to creep into their mouth. They push themself out of their chair to pace around the room---well, as much as somebody can in this stupid, cramped space---height gives an extra kind of authority, and they want all the help they can get. Plus, they're not sure how much longer they can sit still with this coil all wound up inside them.

One down, two to go. Dagon needs established proof, Hastur needs some kind of emotional push. Beez glances back and forth between them, and decides to save Dagon for last.

"Two: she wants revenge on heaven. She obviously wasn't very happy with how it was running if she did something bad enough to get kicked, and she's definitely not happy with them now. Fuck's sake, she was cursing the bastards the whole time."

Hastur laughs. All it takes with him is a go at the angels. Two down.

And now, for the hard bit...

"Three. She just cooperated perfectly for me. Did everything I asked without batting an eye. Seriously, she takes direction like she was born to it. Or, well, made to it. She's already proven herself a good follower, and she doesn't even know us yet. Think how malleable she'll be once she's fully under our influence."

Dagon thinks for a minute, spinning her pen idly. Come on, Dag. You know you want to.

"Alright."

Gotcha!

"But."

Shit.

Eric chooses that exact moment to show up with the hellfire they ordered thirty minutes ago, nearly hitting Beez in the face with the door, mouth already open to make his usual pointless commentary. Beez is about to wring his neck, but Dagon ignores him, and continues asking her pointless question before he can start blabbering.

"Do you really think she has what it takes? To be one of us?"

Beelzebub pauses.

They think of you, broken on the floor in a pile of rubble, tears in your pretty eyes. They think of you, trusting them without second thought, placing yourself in their hands. They think of you, stumbling down the hallway in their arms, looking as if you could kill just as easy as you could die.

But mostly, they think of you, writhing beneath them in the dark, bloody and panting, enough fight left in your body to nearly push them off.

Beez takes their cup from Eric, and downs it in one go.

"Yes."

"We talking about the angel?" Eric chimes in, entirely uninvited. "Saw her in the hall with you, Lord Beelzebub. She's got a killer glare, that one. Very scary. I'd bet on her being a good demon for sure."

"NOBODY ASKED YOU!"

"Right, sorry---"

"Get out. Before I turn you into a pile of goo."

Eric gets out. Before Hastur turns him into a pile of goo. The not-really-fear-but-close-enough continues to slosh around.

"Right. Are we decided?" Beez says, in the way that means 'we better be decided,' edging backward toward the door. The urge to get back to you is growing as the feeling whirls more insistently within their chest.

Dagon does not get the memo.

"Not quite yet, I've got some suggestions."

Dagon's always got fucking suggestions.

"Fine, whatever. suggest away."

"First, she should be submurged in sulfur and hellfire, just to be certain she's not a Trojan Goat of some kind."

"Yep, gotcha, fair enough, I'll see to it. She needs a bath anyway. Covered in blood."

"Second, we can't let her wander about freely. She could do some serious damage if something goes wrong."

Beez has got their hand on the knob. "Alright, I'll keep her on a bit of a leash for now, probably good for her own safety."

Hastur raises his hand. "If something goes wrong, can we feed her to the hellhounds?"

Ligur raises his. "Or to the IT department?"

"Yeah, fine, whatever. Sure. All in favor of keeping her?"

As soon as Beez gets an 'aye' out of all three, they're out the door before they even finish saying "meeting adjourned!"

They manage to control themself from sprinting down the hallway, instead replacing their usual stroll with something more urgent. It's a long fucking walk back, but they don't want to send any more gossip spreading. Word of you, and of them helping you, has no doubt already made its way through the hive many times over by now. This could very quickly turn into a PR nightmare if they're not careful.

But still, they can't bring themself to walk quite as slow as normal. This entire plan hinges on you liking (or at least accepting) your new climate, and if you wake up alone and locked in, it's not going to reflect very well on them. Accounting already made a bad first impression, Beez can't afford a bad second. Especially not now, after fighting Dagon for a stupidly long time on your behalf.

Before you passed out, you asked them why.

They don't know why.

They want to say it was a simple recognition of potential that made them swoop in like that. They saw an opportunity, and set themself up to take it. There's part of the truth in that: you're a living ball of could-be, covered in gasoline and waiting to be ignited into something amazing, they know it. And they want to hold the lighter.

But there's more, they can't shake it. If it had been for nothing but your possible utility, they wouldn't have been so... whatever to you. No, there's something else here. Something sitting next to that unpleasant jumpiness in their gut. They just don't know what.

When they found you, you just looked so... sad. Pathetic, yes, but it wasn't pity, exactly, that so captured them in that moment. It was more like... looking at some kind of old reflection. Somebody who they used to be. Some kind of ghost in the mirror from a very long time ago.

Whatever it is, both the swishy thing and the ghost, it's almost certainly out-of-bounds for the Prince of Hell to be feeling. For fuck's sake, they're meant to be the example, the kind of evil that the lesser demons aspire to. Feelings aren't a part of the job description. Feelings aren't a part of them.

When they healed you, you squeezed half of their wretched heart between your hands. And half is too much.

Better swallow this before it's too late.

As Beez rounds the last corner, they walk past the "WE HATE YOU" poster. It makes them feel a little better.

[devilmen-collector]

His S/O Telling Him They Shouldn't Sleep in the Same Bed

Requested by: anon :3

Ft. Satan, Mammon, Leviathan, Beelzebub, Lucifer x gn!Reader

C/W: none

Summary: You tell him you two shouldn't sleep in the same bed because you you will cling to him when you are sleeping.

Satan

"You are in Hell, and you are still reserved from just clinging to me in bed", Satan snickers before grabbing and carrying you to bed. If you are scared of clinging to him, then let him cling to you. He will make sure that you will never escape his embrace.

Mammon

"Master, I'm yours, you can touch me however much you like." He's gentle and will not force you to share a bed with him if that makes you uncomfortable. But Mammon's confident that the both of you will share a bed one day with you clinging to him and not letting him go anywhere.

Leviathan

"You want to escape my surveillance! Don't even think of it!" Levi can't stop thinking about you being with another devil if he lets you sleep separately from him, his jealousy can't stand it. You are sleeping together with him. Period.

Beelzebub

"Ok, then let me cling to you. Problem solved." Beel says and winks. From then on, whenever you two share the bed, he will not let you be outside of his arms. And it's a given he will sniff you while he is at it.

Lucifer

Lucifer always has a "holier than thou" aura around him that would make you not want to cling to him on bed even more.

"Child of Adam, stay with me." The king of pride will have his way, he will convince you to sleep on the same bed with him and he will give many reasons for it, like he needs someone to check his wounded wings at night and it would be troublesome for his nobles or Jjok if he asked them, or he needs someone to help him place his horn through the hole of the pillow at night (and again, it would be a bother to the nobles given their amount of work and special conditions bla bla).

The moment you fall asleep, he will pull you into his arms, no need to wait for you to start clinging first.

[azareel-writes]

sub!demon brothers/reader headcanons ♡

chara. by appearance: mammon, leviathan, asmodeus, beelzebub, satan, belphegor, lucifer ft. afab!MC / afab!reader ♡ no gendered terms used for reader except "mommy" ♡ 18+ under the cut

nightbringer has reawakened my love for obey me! when i first started OM, one of my things was deducing what demons brothers are subs and now i know my answer is all of them. might expand on this later!!

mammon: mommy kink. it's canon, trust me. mams is so down bad for his mommy. a service sub w bratty tendencies but his dick always wins the battle between continuing to be difficult or being obedient and cumming. loves when you pull him by the hair no matter the context. to get his attention? yes. making out? obviously. forcing him to look at you while he's on his knees? the dumb baby might cum in his pants.

leviathan: two ways to deal with our lovely snake boi. first, degrade him. make fun of him for being a dumb virgin, spank him, bite him. humiliate him by stripping him completely but keeping most of your clothes on. or second, praise him. treat him so gently like one of his priceless figurines. kiss him all over before you lay a finger on his cock. reward him for staying. levi isn't used to affection but that can be solved by handcuffing him so he can't cover up his pretty body. by degrading him or being super loving, you're being sooooo mean to him it's not fair :((((

beelzebub: praise kink and i refuse to relent in this. for the love of everything holy and infernal, someone praise this boy. do i have to make the argument for oral? he's ecstatic to have you ride his face and will do so for hours if you let him. a well behaved boy - the best of his brothers - with a ton of stamina! loves the size difference between you two. you're a human and so small and so fragile compared to him. but you can make his brain go all fuzzy and make him feel small. your soothing presence brings him to his knees, eager and ready to please.

asmodeus: he's not the avatar of lust for nothing! will switch things up on you whenever he feels like it, just to keep you on your toes! sometimes he's a power bottom, sometimes he's the eager service sub. into some light kitten play! just an excuse for asmo to dress up for you. (though you might want to get him out of it quickly~) cat ears, pretty lingerie, thigh-highs and garterbelts, a tail plug to match... or maybe a classic bunny suit? low cut corset suit with a tail, fishnets, heels, and always ready to serve you.

satan: size queen. anything goes until he safewords. relatively well behaved - he is more impatient than bratty. his chest is super sensitive, he's never walking away without hickies. doesn't say it but he likes it slow. running a hand through his hair, kissing all over his face. he wants to feel like he's yours and yours alone. subspace really calms him down. outside of sex, he curls up to you, staying glued to you. he will get quiet or nonverbal but don't worry! he's in a good mood, so let him lay in your lap and dote on him a little.

belphegor: brat. big big brat. the type of brat that needs to be broken. edge him into oblivion then force him to cum over and over again — that is what the little brat wanted, now he's begging you to stop? maybe he's learned his lesson, but he loves pushing your buttons too much to kick the habit. can only manage to stay up 3–4 minutes after; he believes the post-sex sleep is amazing when he's sore and satisfied. loves to lay on your chest while you rub his back and play with his hair. 

lucifer: experienced doms only: hard mode!! everything is discussed beforehand with a very detailed contract - kinks, limits, curiosities. calls you master in bed. loves when you use your pact on him (consensually). pretty obedient boy, as are the terms of your contract. big shibari fan. imagine having the avatar of pride tied up in red ropes like a present looking up at you. that sight alone will make you feel like the strongest being in all three realms.

[isforever]

@lvndrhzd ( loona ) @ beelzebub : ( text ) : i’m sorry about all the inappropriate shoe throwing.

[ text : loona ! ] babe , that was the funniest thing ever , don't even apologize ! [ text : loona ! ] that girl was totally killing the vibe , too bad a shoe flying at her didn't fix it for her but !! [ text : loona ! ] tex was so right about you , and i like ... want to see sooooo much more of you ! [ text : loona ! ] how's the hangover tho ? trying some hair of the hellhound ?