#fuck push doors

[obsessedwithlute]

The Circle of Vengeance - Chapter One

Here's an angsty Guitarspear fanfic! Let's see how many chapters I can write of this before y'all get tired of my insanity! Chapter Summary: Lute makes a choice and Charlie loses her shit. Also push doors play their role as the eighth deadly sin.

Lute heard the news from Saint Peter. Sera had let it slip that Adam had been reborn- as a sinner. As a demon.

It couldn’t be right; there was no way Adam, her Adam, could possibly be in Hell.

Except that it was Adam, and that alone made it make sense.

But- she couldn’t think that. There had to be a mistake. God must have- No. No, it was impossible. God didn’t fuck up.

Well, this time he must have, because Adam didn’t deserve to be in Hell.

He’d killed people, but on Heaven’s orders, and he was the first man, for fuck’s sake. Didn’t that count for anything?

Lute needed to do something to fix this. She couldn’t discuss it with God, but Sera- she reported directly to Sera now, and the angel had decided they needed to have weekly meetings now. To make sure everything is running smoothly, was Sera’s excuse. The lieutenant knew the truth, though. To keep Lute in line.

Lute looked down at the spear she gripped tightly in her hands. The spear that had killed demons, earning her Adam’s favor and praise.

They’d never really defined their relationship. Boss and employee? Co-murderers? We’re totally just friends, but, like, I’d fuck you if you asked?

All of the above?

Lute made her way to Sera’s office, grinding her teeth together, hoping this would go over well.

She braced her hand on the cobalt doorknob and pulled it open.

The door was locked.

The fuck…?

Sera never locked her door. Not once in the many millennia of Lute’s existence had Sera ever locked her door.

Lute slammed her body against the door, mentally screaming at the damn thing to stop being so annoying, and it flung open.

Fuck, Lute, it’s a push door! Why do you keep forgetting that?

Every. Fucking. Time.

“Commander, there you are,” Sera said. She sat at a bronze desk, with two chairs made of the same material on opposite sides.

There used to be a third for Adam.

Lute clasped her hands behind her back and inclined her head. “Your Majesty.”

“Sit down, Commander, we need to speak about these incident reports,” the Queen of Heaven ordered.

Commander. Lute still hadn’t gotten used to that.

“Your Majesty, I actually have… a different matter of business that I feel must be discussed with you,” Lute said, lowering herself into the chair.

“Go ahead,” Sera told her, waving her hand.

“I heard about what happened to Adam,” Lute murmured. “I was wondering… if you knew why?”

Sera burst out laughing suddenly. “You don’t mean to tell me you’re surprised?”

“Well… I am, Your Majesty,” Lute said. “I am confused as to why someone in such a high, respected position as Adam would be allowed to…” “Become a sinner?” Sera finished. Lute winced. “It’s quite obvious. He has committed almost every sin there is. The confusing thing would have been if he’d wound up a winner!”

“But, Your Majesty… isn’t there anything we can do?” Lute asked.

“Do?” Sera repeated, her face twisted into a shocked expression.

“Yes, he is the First Man, there must be a way to… make an exception?” the lieutenant presumed.

“There are no exceptions,” Sera scoffed. “Adam said it himself, the rules are black and white.” “But-” “Lute, I am sorry that your fuckbuddy- boyfriend- whatever he was to you-”

“Boss,” Lute hissed.

“-Got himself cast down to hell. But unless you plan on taking the same path, I expect you to put that pretty little righteously sadistic smirk back on your face, remember your place, and make a plan with your Exorcists for how to exterminate the last of Hell, like you told me you wanted to.” Flames burned in Sera’s eyes.

“Your Majesty, please, there must be a way…” Lute begged, but it was to no avail.

“Do not question Heaven, abomination, or I may decide that you are no longer worthy of it!”

“Then fucking do it!” Lute screamed, her voice hoarse. “I know exactly how low you think of me, it’s only been a matter of time!”

“Oh, no, ‘Commander’,” Sera cooed. “You didn’t think I’d make it that easy for you, did you? I’m giving you a choice. You can never speak of Adam again or you can join him. What will it be, Lute? Adam or God?”

To anyone else, the answer would have been obvious. Her shitty boss or everything she existed for?

But Adam wasn’t just her shitty boss.

He was her motivation, and she was his. He was the person always pushing her to work hard, but also to lay back, to relax, to enjoy her existence for once. And she was always there for him, the nights when the memories of Eve and Lilith came back too strong and he would try to drown himself in alcohol. And Lute was always ready to give Adam an ass-kicking when he needed one.

But Lute had a purpose in Heaven. Yes, that purpose was killing, but it was still a reason to wake up in the morning and suffer through another of sweat and Sera and unruly Exorcists.

But killing Adam?

She’d mutilated Vaggie because she couldn’t do her job properly.

But could Lute do her job, now that Adam was a sinner? Now that she was biased? This was why they didn’t let winners become Exorcists. Over ninety-five percent of them had someone they cared about who was a goddamn sinner.

And sinners were trouble incarnate.

But what if just one exception could be made…?

Vaggie didn’t get an exception.

…But why should Lute not?

Lute was more diligent than Vaggie, more adept at her job than Vaggie, more worthy than Vaggie.

Right? So then why did Vaggie get to be with Charlie? Why did Vaggie get someone who loved her, even though she was an angel? Even though she was a murderer?

Everyone loved Vaggie and everyone hated Lute.

Except for Adam. Adam and Lute had always been on each other’s sides, even when one or both of them inevitably fucked up.

When Adam had broken into hell unauthorized to steal porn films and booze and generally shit on Lucifer’s good time, Lute had taken half the blame and shared Adam’s sentence.

When Lute had accidentally stabbed another Exorcist during the exterminations, Adam had defended her to Sera and used the “one out per century” the Seraphim had told him he could get due to his First Man title to get her charges dropped.

Adam would never want her to sacrifice everything in her life for him.

But Lute didn’t know if she could live with herself if she didn’t.

To never see Adam again except at the end of her spear, to never even have his name escape between her lips again… it sounded more like Hell than anything Lucifer could create.

To lust was a sin, to want more was a sin.

But Adam had lusted and bragged, boiled over and envied, and everything else in the book that for anyone else, would pretty much be an automatic slam of the pearly gates in their face.

Adam, you stupid fucking idiot, I miss you more than anything and I don’t want to lose you.

“Make your decision now, Lute. Adam. Or. God.”

In the movies, it came out as a scream of wrath and disgust and confidence.

In the movies, there were tears streaming down the character’s face as  

they spoke.

In the movies, there was no doubt in their eyes.

This was the opposite of a movie.

And Lute’s suddenly shaky voice was so quiet she could barely hear herself as she rasped, “Adam.”

—

Lute gripped her nails into a brick building, trying to keep herself upright and conscious. The blood from where her wings used to be was drying on her back. Sera had ripped her prosthetic arm off as well, and Lute missed that already too.

She had no time to sit around and weep. She’d made her choice; there was no undoing it. Now she had to find Adam.

Fuck, she missed that whiny little asshole.

She couldn’t exactly come up with a good plan of how to find him, though. Yell his name through the streets of hell like he was a lost puppy?

Somehow, Lute didn’t think that would yield the best results.

She pulled herself off of the wall and started walking down the streets of Hell, searching for Adam, ignoring the warm, sticky blood coating her body.

Her feet dragged down the pavement as she searched, wondering where the actual fuck he was and what he had gotten himself into this time.

“Lute?” a voice exclaimed behind.

She whirled around, hoping, pleading-

It was Charlie. No, please let her be hallucinating, anyone other than Vaggie’s girlfriend-

“The fuck are you doing here?” the princess demanded.

“What does it look like?” Lute asked in a condescending tone, gesturing to her missing wings and prosthesis.

“It looks like you got what you deserved,” Charlie hissed.

“Wow, demon princess, you’ve changed a lot since we last met. I kinda like it,” Lute remarked.

“You tried to kill Vaggie. Twice!” the demon screamed.

“Oh, yes, where is she, by the way? I thought you two were glued at the hip, how I never see one without the other!” Lute said, laughing a bit.

“Like I’m going to tell you that!” Charlie shouted.

“Do I look like I’m in any position to be fighting someone right now?” the angel said.

“Lute, I know you, you’re always in a position to fight everyone!”

“Aww, little princess doesn’t think she can take me in a duel?” Lute cooed.

“Little princess thinks she has something you want,” Charlie said, horns beginning to sprout from her head.

“And what would that be?” Lute asked nonchalantly.

A kick landed itself in Lute’s back, knocking her to the ground, out of breath.

The fuck..?

When she looked up, Vaggie was towering over her.

“Him.”

Vaggie turned, gesturing to the avian demon behind her. He was different, and dirtier, but it was undoubtedly Adam.

“How long have you-” Lute started, but Vaggie cut her off.

“About a month.”

Adam was bleeding, what had happened, what had they done to him? She had to protect him, she had to avenge him, what did they do-

Lute jumped up and whirled her dagger towards Vaggie, screaming something incoherent, but before she even got a chance to strike, she was surrounded by Vaggie on one side and Charlie- in her full demon form- on the other.

The princess looked ready to murder her.

Charlie’s hand pinned Lute to the ground, and her voice was bursting with Wrath as she hissed, “I won’t be killing you today. That would be a mercy. You tried to take Vaggie from me. I will do the same to you.” Charlie released her so quick, Lute didn’t have a second to fight before Vaggie stabbed her spear into Adam’s chest. Lute watched him gasp for air before collapsing to the ground.

Something came across Charlie’s eyes at that moment, likely satisfaction.

Lute crumpled, and again, the world went dark.

[payidaresque]

CHRISTOPHER PLUMMER as Raymond Swan Inside Daisy Clover (1965)

[s0fter-sin]

punk!soap metalhead!ghost brain blast!!!

ghost trying so hard to get soap out of the bad parts of the scene bc he's starting to get pulled in by the shadows, a group of wannabe anarchists that stand for nothing except themselves, but soap loses his shit; laying into ghost for daring to try and "save" him

no one's ever been there for him when he needed them; no one ever offered him support or a soft place to land, why the hell would he want ghost's help when he's perfectly fine on his own? (when he’s always had to be?)

"you think i can't make my own decisions? well fuck you, ghost, who needs a washed up piece o’ shite like you!"

he doesn’t talk to ghost for days, doesn’t let himself acknowledge the hole he’s left behind until he's getting pissed with the shadows one night in an abandoned house and graves starts waving around the gun he snuck through customs and it accidentally goes off, grazing soap's temple

he's never heard anything so loud, even at all the shows he’s attended and there’s so much blood; it's getting in his eyes, running down his neck and soaking into his clothes and he’s frozen. graves and all his shadows bolt after hearing the gunshot, worried about cops finding them and they leave him there; staring at the growing puddle at his feet

soap's panicking; half-blind, blistering pain lighting up his head and he can't think about anything beyond how much he wants ghost

ghost's been sulking at his flat since soap blew him off; pissed at soap for going off on him when he just wants to help but still worried about the punk. he doesn’t want him going down the same road as him; doesn’t want him to repeat his mistakes when he could save himself so much suffering and he almost doesn't answer his phone when it buzzes on the couch

he lets out a ragged sigh as he picks it up; raking a hand over his shaved head when he sees the bubble emoji and contemplates letting it ring out. contemplates answering with a growl; something a younger, crueler version of him would spit. in the end, he decides on silence and puts the phone to his ear just before it can stop ringing

he almost breaks it when he hears soap choke out, "i've been shot."

he's out the door in a heartbeat, running down the stairs because the lift is too slow; trying to get more information out of him but he can't get anything out beyond a repeated, "i've been shot."

he breaks every law there is as he speeds to soap's location; visions of his cold, bloodless corpse staining his mind's eye. the only thing keeping him calm are the strangled breaths from the other end of the line; he's not dead, he can work with not dead, this isn't tommy, soap won't end up like tommy-

ghost screeches to a halt outside a random alley and throws himself from the car when he sees soap collapsed against a garbage bin. he's covered in blood, soaked, just like that night, it's everywhere and he's not moving, he's not moving-

“johnny!”

he skids to his knees and fits his hand under his chin to check his pulse… but his heart beats strong under his fingertips and soap's eyes flutter open; flooded with blood but conscious and alive

the second he registers ghost in front of him, he’s reaching out for him; babbling apologies over and over, "you were right, i'm sorry ghost, i should've listened; i'm sorry, i'm so sorry."

ghost just gently hushes him, cupping his face heedless of the blood. "that doesn't matter now, johnny. we're gonna get you all fixed up, yeah?"

soap’s hands fist in his shirt, clinging to him. "i got shot, ghost," he says again; lost and smaller than he's ever heard from his punk and it's been years since he's felt this kind of rage but he doesn't let a drop of it touch his voice

“i know, lad. i know. gonna let me take a look at it? make it right?"

soap finally nods, his stuttering apologies coming to a halt and ghost runs back to his car to get a towel. he presses it to soap's skin, trying to soak up as much as he can so he can get a proper look; cooing assurances as soap absently hisses in pain the closer he gets to it

it's only a graze and something in his chest unravels; old fears and grief settling as the shallow wound continues to gush into the towel

ghost slumps, pressing his forehead into the top of soap's head and takes a second to just breathe. “‘s’alright, johnny; it’s not even that bad, not even that bad,” he promises, low; spoken more to himself than soap

his hand starts to grow damp and he forces himself to his feet, gathering up soap and getting him into his car. he puts the towel in his hand and presses it against the wound, trying to coax him through his shock to put pressure on it so he can drive

soap curls up in the passenger seat; eyes distant, seeing nothing and ghost has to tighten his grip on the steering wheel so he doesn't turn around

soap is the priority

he has to get him home; has to get him cleaned up and safe

then he can go hunting for the gutless shadow that hurt his punk

[ravencromwell]

Fuck, just had a hell of a Holland realization, which everyone else probably realized years ago but indulge my horror: The Danes have their stone statue garden of traitors. And the only thing we've ever seen in WL that can turn people to stone is As Staro. The command Holland used to kill his fucking brother. The idea of him having to replicate that kill over and over with the traitors the Danes wanted to make sharpest examples of, and then walk past those kills every fucking day? I have nothing else to say except it's a fucking crime Holland didn't get the same sort of triumphant, bloody fight against the Danes Lila got against the earth mage who tried to kill her in the tournament, because to say he deserved it so much more is the flimsiest possible understatement.

[goldiipond]

shadow is 11 years old and i still have to tuck him into my bed before leaving my room otherwise he will start wailing and shredding the doorframe like an angry toddler who is actually a middle-aged man

[wormshirt]

The Doctor needs one of those classes they give to expecting/hopeful parents but for humans. Get their ass enrolled in a parenting course. And everytime they get a new companion he has to retake the course.

[fake-married-my-dead-fiance]

Eun Dan-oh of Extraordinary You is the best because she's so tiny but she manages to manhandle every single super tall member of A3:

She is tiny and she is powerful

[bibleofficial]

since i’m not allowed to have feeders - BUT HAVE ALREADY TRAINED THE BIRDS TO ASSOCIATE MY WINDOW W THEM - i’ve just lined the windowsill w feed & the birds are getting comfortable w just coming directly to the windowsill regardless of if it’s open lmfao

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

If the landlord doesn’t want me fishing around in their shower vent and cold air returns, then they shouldn’t make them stink like rotting garbage. You painted over the screws so they’re hard to open? Cool. I’ll drill holes into them and get them out with a power tool because the town next to me is having a citywide garage sale and I’m sure there’s some Ryobi in there at a decent price. Your vents are coming off motherfucker, and if I find anything I swear to fucking god I am going to have both your vents and your bank account cleaned out.

[thedarklyblue]

this year is for standing up for myself in the little things too. and if that means i need to send a politely firm email about student org behavior making me uncomfortable then by god i am going to do that.

[swagging-back-to]

first thing my housemate does when she gets back is literally scream at me because i didn't get any of her calls -- because i don't have an activated phone --- while i was driving back from putting my mouse to sleep.

and then continue to slam doors

[nyxronomicon]

ok I have to do yard work today so who is fueling my Toji gardener fantasy

[gingerbreadmonsters]

MANIFESTING PRODUCTIVITY 🙏🙏🙏

[rolandkaros]

hate my living situation i have to say.

[gregmarriage]

this was meant to be a funny post, but then it got deep imao

not a relationship person, but i believe in their beliefs

[zappedbyzabka]

Racer bfs😍