#he can’t live without lucifer but has to anyway.’

[quietwingsinthesky]

anyway fucked up samifer time travel au where post-cage, in love with Lucifer but cannot reach him because he’s in Hell Sam gets sent back in time and guides his past self into opening the Cage again, so that past him and past Lucifer can be united.

[temis-de-leon]

Shy gn!reader confesses to the Demon Brothers

Characters: Mammon, Levi, Satan, Asmo and Beel (x reader, separately)

Main Masterlist

Part 1 , Part 3 , Dateables version

Anon request: Could I request headcanons for Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, and Beelzebub, react to shy gn crush confessing to him nervously?

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A/N: life became hard for 4 full days and writer's block hit me with the power of a thousand suns. Then I went to therapy and I immediately started writing. Here it is, folks, 1899 words.

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Mammon

There’s no doubt that Mammon loves to have fun. Either counting money at casinos or wildly drinking and dancing at various clubs, the sight of him with the occasional fling by his side is not a strange one for the demon folk.

He doesn’t look for it; it’s not like he needs to, anyway. After all, who wouldn’t like to be with The Great Mammon? He’s a catch!

But no, it isn’t something he needs to feel good. His heart beats for one thing and one thing only: money. Gold sparkling on his fingers and coins filling his pockets, what else is there to live for?

His brothers would never understand him. When Beel empties the kitchen it’s cute, but when he steals Levi’s figurines, Asmo’s jewellery and Lucifer’s wallet suddenly it’s a problem.

And what’s his punishment? Taking care of a dumb, weak, boring human.

You better leave him alone, MC! He’s a very important demon and he has very important things to do! Don’t you listen to what his brothers say about him! Listen only to him!

Also, pay him attention and ignore the others! He’s so much better, you know? Can’t you see by now? He wishes you did and he isn’t sure how he feels about it.

The pang in his chest, his reddened cheeks and his avoidant gaze aren’t things he’s used to, but they become the norm once he spends more time with you.

Enduring his brothers’ jokes and taunts is humiliating and he perfectly knows he would act the same if he wasn’t the one involved, but damn MC, why do you have to be the way you are? Why are you so easy to fall in love with?

You have to feel the same, right? With your stammering and your bashfulness, you have to feel the same.

Mammon thanks his Father when you invite him to your room out of the blue and blurt out your feelings. The situation is ridiculous, he’s sweating buckets and your hands won’t stop shaking.

He tries to confess back without directly saying he loves you.

Key word ‘tries’.

Leviathan

Love is not for him, or rather, he’s not made for love.

That’s just who he is. A shut-in who finds companionship in fiction, in the idealization of friendship, romance and loyalty. His expectations are set way to high, near long opening titles and uninterrupted rambles, and he doesn’t expect people to reach them. Is he even worth the effort?

He has internet friends who he met through online gaming and forums and he cherishes them very much, but it makes him feel lonely and insecure sometimes. What type of life do they have when they’re not gaming or role playing or just talking on video calls with him? Do they act like plain old normies, taking their partners out on dates or having lunch with their classmates after class?

He prefers not to think about it.

Your arrival to the Devildom doesn’t change his life at all. He’s curious, sure, but what are the chances of you sharing his interests? Also, you quickly become friends with Mammon, which says enough about yourself.

At least, that’s what he thinks at the beginning. Time passes, as well as the TSL quiz, and he immediately realizes that you’re not who he thought you were.

There’s no judgement in your eyes whenever he rants about the latest piece of media he has consumed, instead filled with curiosity and fascination; and not only you’re the sole person in the house that doesn’t make fun of him, but you also defend him against his brothers.

His romantic feelings for you grow strong and fast, but your friendship is what’s most important for him.

You’re so, so much better than what he initially thought, even when you remind him of himself sometimes.

The glint in your bashful gaze, the doubt in your words in search of the right ones and the everlasting fidgeting with your fingers. You are the perfect romantic interest from the perfect otome game and he can’t believe how lucky he is to be the main character.

When you finally confess to him under the comfort of the blue lights of his aquarium, you’re barely able to finish your sentences while looking at him, which in reality is a blessing, because he can’t bring himself to look at you either when he confesses back.

It’s awkward, but sweet. Kind of like him.

Satan

Romance is for him what a painting is to the viewer. A novel to the reader.

He understands the significance, the words, the colours. What the creator wants to portray and what the consumer interprets. Narrative rules, the significance of flowers, metaphors, history… All of that mixed with the abstract of the mind.

He understands.

He just doesn’t feel it. Not at its full potential, at least.

There had been partners in his life, years ago, and he knows he’d loved them, but he wasn’t in love with them. Whatever line kept him from going forward with his feelings is what made him stop trying alone.

Books and cats and the Anti Lucifer League are enough for him to be occupied. They also make him happy, so his views on romantic love are easily set aside.

He doesn’t think much of you at the beginning, mainly because he doesn’t expect you to last very long, but you quickly show an amount of potential he’s ready to exploit.

Diavolo dreams of unifying the three realms and Lucifer would do anything to not spoil those plans, so what better way to annoy his brother than through you?

It’s selfish and reckless and of course his eagerness screws the whole thing up, but it ultimately helps him realize he shouldn’t have underestimated you.

You are kind, brave and smart. You see him beyond his wrath and his academic knowledge, remembering him even in the smallest of details that surround you. It was such care and affection that made his feelings grow.

For the first time in his very long life he starts to relate to the characters in his books, his heartbeat increasing when the scenarios feel too familiar or when the dialogues replicate exactly what he yearns to say to you.

It’s thanks to his novels that he recognizes your feelings. The shy and endearing romantic interest quietly approaching the main lead, confession learnt by memory.

His first reaction is to be surprised. He doesn’t expect something like this to happen to him, let alone you being the one to reciprocate his feelings. How much luckier could he be?

Asmodeus

What better love exists than the one he feels for himself? He’s beautiful, charming, adorable, addictive and every other compliment in the book. He can’t get enough of them!

He’s obsessed with the idea of being surrounded by people, by their affections and their devotions, touching him, looking at him, singing him praises. Unfortunately for everyone else, his narcissistic tendencies only grow when those that fall under his charm feed into his “delusions”.

That’s how Mammon calls it, at least.

At the time of receiving, he doesn’t distinguish between romantic love and sexual attraction, although it’s more difficult for him to reciprocate the first one.

Deep down, hidden amongst his insecurities, Asmo believes no one would love him for his truest self. That’s why he insists on looking perfect at all times, following a strict sleep schedule and a well-balanced diet, going out to remain in everyone’s minds; always a trending topic, a sensation.

If his outstanding physique and impeccable personality aren’t enough for you to know he’s the best amongst his brothers, then his charm would do the work.

But it doesn’t.

When he purposefully makes eye contact there’s no sign of you falling for his magic and, suddenly, he finds himself at a loss of words.

He doesn’t panic too much, given that he is still a beautiful and powerful demon that could devour you in a second, but knowing that there’s no barrier between the two of you to protect his vulnerability gives him an unpleasant feeling of exposure.

Surprisingly enough, it’s also your resistance to his powers what centers his attention on you. You’re one of the very few people that knows him as he is, even with the ugly parts, and it doesn’t take too long for his affections to become obvious and somewhat desperate.

Asmo is elated when your behaviour around him changes. He recognizes the pattern, since he’s seen it many times in his fans, and he can’t believe that someone who’s seen him at his worst still considers him as beautiful as those who have only seen what he wanted to show.

Although you don’t really need to confess, due to him immediately wanting to be with you, hearing your feelings spoken out loud sends his heart into a frenzy rhythm.

The attention fuels his ego, sure, but it’s the veracity of your words what makes him want to cry out of happiness.

Beelzebub

He’s not really interested in relationships. There is a fling here or there, sure, he still has other type of urges, but he hardly thinks about it.

The feeling of emptiness follows him around like a metal ball and chain and the only consumption that can give him relief, even if temporarily, comes only in the form of food.  

He’s often seen as emotionless or famished and, although he knows he’s popular amongst many students, his height and muscles make him look too intimidating to engage further than necessary.

It isn’t something that bothers him at all. His love goes straight to his family and there’s nothing food can’t fix.

However, when he is told Belphie is the demon chosen for the student exchange program, the hole inside of him grows deeper and deeper. His urges go on a rampage and Lucifer has to give him a pep talk to drill into his brain how important it is that you are to remain uneaten.

It’s not like he’s very interested in you anyways, so leaving you alone doesn’t feel like a draining task.

Of course that changes when you physically put yourself between him and Lucifer. A stupid, idiotic, reckless decision that serves to prove how brave you are.

Your friendship quickly blossoms after that and, unlike many other people, you start seeing him beyond his hunger. That makes him cherish you even further, but it’s your dedication to helping his family what sparks a romantic interest in you.

Since he’s not that experienced in that regard, it feels a little intimidating, but you make it seem easy and effortless. The both of you are equally shy in your affections and there’s a mutual unsaid understanding that helps you build the base of a relationship, so the confession isn’t really necessary.

Still, hearing you say the words makes his heart flutter.

His response is short and blunt, but sweet in nature. He is blushing the whole time, not breaking eye contact with you, and for the first time in many years, he feels completely satisfied.

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Tagged: @darkflowerav

[stillnotyourmusebitch]

I can’t stop thinking of demon! Adam going through development and reaching the point of like,, doing something nice without anyone telling him to do it, purely for the sake of doing it. Something he never would have done before. Even if it’s something as small as sitting down with you while you’re watching your favorite movie or show and not shitting on it the whole time, just to keep you company. Or something like that. I dunno. I’m just a sucker for slow burn subtextual romance.

THAT, and the reader seeing his face beneath the mask, looking him the eyes, and smiling a little. Even if they say nothing. I feel like that would stick with him.

Exactly. Demon!Adam lives in my head rent free now. I know this weren't a request of sorts but I kinda wrote something for this

random ficlet below

Demon!Adam x GN!reader (Fluff)

DemonSinner!Adam is something that plays on my mind a lot. He still doesn’t believe in the whole redemption shit that Charlie is laying down but if it gets him a glimpse of seeing heaven again he is willing to try.

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Adam was bored and needed something to do that would put off the inevitable “therapy” session with Lucifer’s brat later. So that must be why he finds himself outside your room. He knocks lightly on your door. You didn’t answer, he knocked again louder this time. Still no answer. So he opens the door and peers in.

“Hey errr (Y/n) Charlie asked me to check on you.” A blatant lie but he won’t tell you that.

He sees you’re watching TV.

“Huh? What no shitty nickname this time?” You mumbled around a mouthful of popcorn. Adam walks over and flops down on the couch next to you.

“Oh yeah, nah I didn’t really feel like it.” He grabs a handful of your popcorn.

You quirk a brow.

“Also Charlie said nooo giving nicknames to people that demean them and also who don’t want it and people were given names to be used blah blah blah.” He shoves the popcorn into his mouth. “So what are we watchin?”

“I'm watching a movie I really like so if you're staying either shut up or fuck off.” You sink back into your blanket cocoon.

*10 minutes later*

“What the fuck! This guy clearly likes her but she goes for the other bozo. Is she blind . . . . as well as ya know hot.”

You choke on your drink. You didn’t think that this would be his kinda thing but here he was emotionally invested in the film you had picked. You had really wanted to just wallow in your depression by binge watching trashy romcoms but what was really making you feel better was watching the ‘dickmaster’ himself rooting for the underdog to open up about his feelings to the lead woman.

You go to grab some popcorn but see the bowl is empty.

“Gotta pause.” You go to stand but he stops you.

“I got this.” He hides the good deed by quickly saying “And I need to piss anyway.” You pass him the bowl.

“Not in the popcorn I hope.” You rearrange yourself back in your blanket burrito.

“HAA, You nasty but don’t watch without me. Coz that is a dick move.”

“You know all about those.” You mutter into the blanket. But Adam had gone to the hotel kitchen to make popcorn.

You chose to scroll on your phone until he got back. There were a few messages but you didn’t really feel like answering them. You flop on your side. You can always move when he came back.

While you waited in silence for Adam. You think back on how he really was getting better. After seeing him slowly open up to Charlie’s ideas and seeing that he can be a good guy when it suits him. You smile to yourself.

Your door slams open.

“Okay I’m back bitch.”

Nevermind looks like he has thrown up his walls again.

He lays out the armful of snacks and the bowl of popcorn that looks way bigger than the bowl he left with. He sees you on your side.

“You comfy down there?”

You groan and slowly sit up again. He sits back down but wraps an arm around you and hugs you into his side and nothing more.

“Okay we can continue now.” He grabs the popcorn and rests it on his lap.

You set the movie going again and snuggle just a little bit closer. For popcorn reasons of course not that Adam was nice and warm and you felt safe next to him.

“Clearly she don’t know a good thing when she sees it.” You pipe up after about three minutes into the film again. You had seen this film so many times but there was one scene that always brought out annoyance in you.

“Right!! She needs to open her eyes this guy clearly loves her for who they are and not some fake ass bs that other . . . what?” Adam stops mid-sentence looking down at you resting against his chest.

You blink a few times before realising you are staring “Huh oh nothing.”

You focus back on the screen in front of you.

The climatic end of the film was approaching and the main lead were confessing their love and as the credits role you can here someone crying. You glance up and see Adam wiping away tears.

“You okay.” You sit up and reach for the tissues on the table to hand them to him.

“What!!! I’m fine. Of course I’m fiiiine. Shut up bitch.” He grabs the tissue box from you.

“If it helps I cried the first time I watched this movie.” You wrap the blankets tighter around yourself.

“I . . . ah . . shit.” He saw you curling further in on yourself. He feels guilt crawling into his stomach. “Sorry, I’m . . .Ugh. Look I’m bad at these feel your feelings crap that Charlie spouts. But it was a good film and yeah I cried but . . .”

“It don’t make you any less of a man.”

“Yeeeah I know. Of course I know. I’m the first man.”

“Huh back to that are we.” You bump shoulders with him, making him laugh.

He pulls you back into his side “So what are we watching now?”

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I really didn't mean for this to be as long as it was. I'm sorry

[ifearzombies]

Headcanons about living in the HOL

My personal headcanons about living in the House of Lamentation. This is based on me being the second eldest of like 10 kids. So some of this is based off my personal experience.

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- There is. No. Privacy. There is ONE bathroom for everyone who’s not Asmodeus. If you’re in there, you’re more than likely sharing. If you’re in the shower/bath and someone needs to pee, tough luck. You’re hearing someone pee.

- Your room is below the brothers. That means you hear Asmo’s bed creaking, Levi’s music and dancing, and Mammon tossing and turning in his sleep. You get used to it, but Levi’s music and dancing has led to creative ways to make him shut the fuck up when you really want sleep. You go upstairs, flash him, and make him pass out in shock before going back to bed.

- There’s lots of yelling in the house. Even with no one angry. Sure they text a lot, but they also will yell from outside their rooms to each other if needed. It’s a LOUD house. But you love it anyways.

- Things are borrowed/missing all the time. Some of it’s Mammon’s kleptomania. But most of it is actually the fact that this is a family. And sometimes, families borrow without asking/thinking. Asmo has your blouse. You have his leggings. Belphie’s got your fuzzy socks. You have Lucifer’s shirt. So on and so on.

- You use each other’s shampoos/body washes/lotions, etc. Mammon’s out of shampoo? He’s swiped yours. You’ve run out of body wash? Beel’s smells nice.

- The chore chart is... flexible to a degree. Asmo hates dishes. They ruin his nails! He’ll take laundry if Beel does dishes. Beel hates sweeping. He’s so tall it hurts his back a bit. Levi’s tail is useful. Lucifer does approve any swaps to make sure no one’s taking over too much from someone. You have noticed that the brothers really like when you cook though and always offer to swap for you to cook.

- There is a closet with futons and blankets on the lower level. You’ve all gotten into a habit that at least once a month, you all haul the futons out to the planetarium and have a big old family cuddle pile. Satan sleeps pretty far from Lucifer most of the time. But... not all of the time

- There are stashes of snacks in various places around the house. Beel is always hungry and sometimes he can’t make it to the kitchen, so the brothers have random places around the house that house snacks for him.

- Movie nights happen often and you’ve informed the brothers they can buy giant bags of popcorn in the human realm (like garbage bags full- this is true). Beel is super happy and you’ve set up a schedule of who picks the movie so everyone gets a turn. The angels, Solomon, Diavolo, and Barbatos have started joining in and have been added to the roster.

- Lucifer taught Levi to waltz and now he’s teaching you. Once a week, you and Lucifer have dance lessons where he teaches you to waltz for when Diavolo hosts formal parties. The brothers all take turns leading and it’s turned into a dance night routine.

- You’ve all started to get in the habit of texting goodnight in the HoL group chat before you all go to sleep. 

- If you go out to eat, you order double what you normally would so you get a full meal after Beel eats off your plate. You’ve started applying this to the servings you get at dinner time when you eat at the HoL since Beel’s bad habit tends to leave you hungry (He always feels SO bad when this happens).

[molly-ghuleh]

Honeysuckle - Mountain x gn!reader

Mountain's rut is coming up soon, and the only thing he can think about is you.

~*~

Contains: smut, MDNI!! ghoul heat cycles, masturbation, breeding, oral (both receiving), penetration, knotting, soft Mountain uwu, pining

Notes: Reader is intended to be gender neutral, so I tried to use non-specific anatomy as best I could. Enjoy!~ AO3 link

It’s hot. Too hot, and Mountain can’t sleep. He always gets like this just before his rut–as if his body is saying, in case you didn’t have the whole week blocked off on the calendar already, it’s happening soon–and more often than not, he ends up jerking himself off anyway.

Dew and Swiss call it his ‘pre-rut nut’. 

He feels all the aspects of a rut. His body burns, his dick is sore, and his tail whips around faster than usual, but he doesn’t have that animalistic urge to breed anything that walks yet. 

Yet. 

Hence, pre-rut nut. 

Mountain sighs and throws the thin blanket off his body. The cool air from the window flows over his bare chest, raising goosebumps in its wake. His nipples pebble slightly at the sensation and he shudders. He can live with hard nipples. 

His aching cock, though, is a different story. 

When he’s this close to his rut, he has to jerk off every night. During the day he can assuage his urges, distracted by his duties. But at night when he has nothing else to do, the full force of his unholy urges hit him like a tidal wave, a near-orgasm in and of itself. In the days before his rut he edges himself all day without even realizing it. Usually it’s his pants constricting around his crotch just right, or he sees a perfect ass filling out a pair of pants that makes his dick twitch, but lately… Lately, the only thoughts making his dick twitch have been of you.

Oh, Lucifer, he’d made his way down to the gardens this morning and had been greeted with an eyeful of your ass as you bent down. The sight nearly made him trip over his own tail. He just wanted to grab your hips and– 

His cock jumps in his boxers and he groans. He slips his legs out of the material but keeps them close, so he can clean himself up after he blows his load to the thought of you. 

Mountain knows it’s wrong of him to think of you this way, but sweet Satan, he can’t help it. Not when your scent is the most tantalizing thing he’s ever smelled. Whenever he’s around you, your essence wraps around him and inside him, tugging at his heart as if you know it beats only for you. Just the smell of you, so strong and enticing beneath your perfume, is enough to bring him to his knees, and it has. The first time he’d smelled your scent after a day working in the gardens together, he’d pinned one of his pillows between his knees and rutted down into it like a rabid dog. 

He briefly considers doing that now, but he decides against it. He’d ruined his pillow so thoroughly that he had to throw it out. 

Mountain wants to ruin you instead. 

He brushes his hand down his neck, over his collarbone, and down to circle one of his sensitive nipples. Oh, he just knows you’d treat him so well. Your hands, so small and soft compared to his, would explore every inch of his skin as you exposed it. Your hands would accidentally brush his nipples as you unbuttoned his shirt, but when you heard how his breath hitches at the touch, you’d do it on purpose. Maybe you’d even tilt your head down to take one of them into your pink lips and pull just to see how he’d react. Ah, the sweet little sound you’d make when Mountain’s hips grind up into yours…

Mountain palms his length, only applying a light pressure. No fingers yet, no–in his mind you’re still wearing clothes. He can’t slide himself inside you before he’s made you cum at least once. He knows his size is daunting. He’s been humbled in the past by potential partners who’d gotten one look at his hard cock and fled for the hills. But you would see it as a challenge. He can practically hear you purring into his ear, Come on Mounty, how many inches do you think I can take before I beg you to stop?

Mounty, Mounty, Mounty…

You’re the only one who calls him Mounty. Satan, it makes his knees weak. He wants to know how it sounds in his ear, against his neck, in his mouth. He wants to know how it sounds muffled around his cock. He wants to know how it sounds when he drags it out of you, the last syllable spilling from your lips in a pathetic little whine. He just knows you’d take him so well, all the way to the hilt, and past it when he’d knot you– That thought makes a low growl erupt from his chest. He finally, finally takes himself into his hand, giving himself a few slow, firm strokes. He can’t decide if he wants to imagine it’s your own hand, your lips, or your dripping hole wrapped around him, but his mind lands on your mouth. You’d insist on trying to take him as far as you can down your throat. That’s another challenge you’d pose–how long you can keep him in your mouth until your jaw starts to ache. If you can even fit him. 

But Mountain would only let you touch him after he gives you pleasure first. He wonders how you would taste at the first lick. A little salty, maybe? After your first orgasm, you’d be sweeter, slicker, and because he knows you would be so good for him he’d give you another one. He’d make you scream for him, beg him with incoherent little pleas of your nickname for him. Oh, he can almost hear you in his mind. Oh sweet Satan, Mounty, please… 

Only then would he let you test your little theory. Such a sweet thing for him, crying and drooling around his thick cock and telling him you can take more. 

Mountain grips at the sheets underneath his naked body as his hand slides languidly up and down. He knows he needs sleep, but the visions of you are too delicious to rush. No, you deserve to be revered. Worshiped like the unholy being you are. He prays to you, kneels at your altar, communes with your divinity through his lascivious fantasies of your body under his. He wants to make love to you. He wants to take you so, so slowly at first, stretching your muscles around his dick when he enters you for the first time. He wants you to feel every thick, prodding inch of him inside you. He wants to watch your body arch under him when his tip drags against the spot on your inner walls that will, eventually, make you scream his name. He wants to swallow your moans and whines of discomfort with his lips and shush you and tell you that it’s alright, the stinging stretch will go away in a few seconds. He wants to lean down to your ear and whisper that he loves you, and he wants you to say it back. 

Lucifer, he hasn’t even kissed you yet. 

Mountain would wait until you say you’re ready for him to move, and then he’d pull out nearly all the way just to angle his hips upward and push back in. He imagines the way you’d gasp in surprise that the uncomfortable stretch has turned into pleasure. You’d wrap your arms around him, tugging at the hair on the base of his skull the way you know he likes. Your fingers would brush against the base of his horns by accident. He’d shudder at the contact, rutting his hips into you harder than he meant to, and then you’d do it again on purpose. 

His free hand absently raises to his head to touch his horns the way he imagines you would. The hand wrapped around his leaking cock begins to stroke faster, harder. “Oh f-fuck, petal, that’s so good…” 

His own words echoing in his room make him blush. Mountain knows you like it when he calls you petal. You haven’t explicitly told him so, but he notices the way your eyelids flutter and your mouth quirks up whenever he says it. Once, he’d groaned with soreness from kneeling in the gardens all day and said, you’re killing me, petal. It had sounded more lewd than he’d meant. He had to pretend that he couldn’t smell your arousal suddenly flaring up in you after he’d said it, but oh, you smelled delicious then. He’d had to excuse himself for a few minutes just to rub one out to your lingering scent before he came in his pants. 

Mountain knows you like him, too. Your scent has started to change over the last few months, after you’d started working in the garden with him. You smell sweeter now. Sweeter means your heart pounds a little faster, a little harder whenever you see him. 

The endorphins your body releases at the sight of him make you smell like honeysuckle. 

He grips the base of his horn tighter and pulls. He can picture you riding him like your life depends on it, holding onto his horns for stability and because you’d know he likes that. Your lovely hips would feel so plush and warm in hands when he digs his fingers in to drag you up and down his length. You wouldn’t have to do the work, no... Mountain would take care of you. He’s the biggest, strongest ghoul, but also the most gentle. He’d lift you like you weighed nothing and guide you back down onto his cock without you having to put an ounce of effort in. He’d treat you so well, petal. So well. 

He fists his cock faster now. He can tell he’s going to cum soon, but fuck, he doesn’t want it to be over so soon. Not when his mind is conjuring such sweet pictures of you. 

The ghoul wonders how you’d sound when you get close. Are you loud? Would you get louder? Would you start to beg him to make you cum, or would you go silent? Would you whine out his name for him? His full name or the nickname you gave him? Could you cum from just his cock, or do you need him to help you? Do you need his hands? Oh, sweet thing, you can have his hands. 

He meant to tell you. He wanted to tell you how he feels about you, and then show you, and show you again. But he wants your first time together to be slow, passionate. He wants the only thing on his mind to be you. When he’s in his rut, he can only focus on his primal need to breed, and he doesn’t want that for you. Not yet. Would you like it, though? Mountain imagines what you would sound like begging him to breed you and his knot begins to swell at the base of his dick. He wants to explode inside of you, over and over, until your belly is swollen with his seed. One of his loads will take, right? It must, after he’s fucked his cum into you more times than you can count. His thick knot will keep it inside you until it takes. 

Pre-rut nut, his ass. 

Mountain moans your name like a prayer. He’s sure the other ghouls can hear him call out for you, but he doesn’t care. “Yes, petal, take my knot. I—fuck—I know you can take it all, sweet thing. You’re so good for me, taking my knot so well—”

He imagines you crying out for him, cumming on his cock so hard like he knows you can. He’s not finished yet. Not yet. Just a little longer, please—

You would bring his head down to yours and kiss him so tenderly while he thrusts into you like a man dying. You’d whisper in his ear that he feels so good, fucks you so well, and that you want him to cum inside you. Inside, Mounty, you’d plead, gasping and moaning from his cock still dragging over your walls. He obliges. 

Mountain cums with a loud groan. His hips buck up into his hand and spurts of his viable seed—wasted when it’s not buried deep inside you—land on his stomach and chest. The shocks of pleasure roll through his limbs, making his toes curl and his back arch off the mattress. He wishes he had your body to hold onto when he cums. You would anchor him to the world, even though you were the one to send him to space with pleasure in the first place. Briefly, Mountain squeezes his knot with his hand to imagine what it would feel like stuck inside you, but it’s bittersweet. The rest of his dick is exposed to the cool air of his room. No, it wouldn’t feel like this. You’d hold him inside like a warm, soft cocoon. 

He opens his eyes and the illusion fades. He’s alone in the ghoul dens without you, with drying jizz on his stomach and a rut that came two days early. 

He wants to hold you. 

He wants you close to him, to soothe his aching muscles in between the long periods of fucking you. He wants to massage you too, because he knows he’s big and you’ll be sore for days after his rut ends. Next year, he thinks ruefully. Next cycle, after he properly confesses to you, and then properly makes love to you, many times. He wants to make sure you know he adores you before fucking you like some feral beast. 

Mountain sighs and cleans himself up with his discarded boxers. He doesn’t bother putting another pair on.

[2d-reality]

Little Things (The Envious Thirdborn)

characters: Leviathan, GN!MC navigation: Lucifer | Mammon | Levi | Satan | Asmo | Beel | Belphie content/warnings: little things you do for the brothers, out of love. fluff. established relationship (implied you are dating all seven brothers equally with the exception of mammon whom i love more) word count: 1334, this one got away from me a little notes: Each brother has their own part, linked above. I am still my own editor and I loathe editing, so please forgive any mistakes!

Adrenaline pulses through Levi’s veins. His hands shake with it, even as he sits back in his gaming chair, and cold shock ices over the hot rush of blood in his veins. 

A Sucre Frenzy collectible has slipped from his grasp. It was a limited-time run, only live for a few minutes, given how quickly stock had sold out. He’d been watching the drop for days, even though the band had only posted vaguely to something happening, with a link to a blank webpage with a countdown. No one had known what it was they were hinting at, and even though Levi had what he thought was every e-commerce website preloaded to ensure a fulfilled order no matter what website hosted a flash sale, the limited edition merch he’d coveted since the launch went live was now nothing more than a distant dream. Maybe he didn’t click fast enough. Maybe the slight error in the shipping address that had forced him to re-enter his details had pushed him out of the running. Maybe Sucre Frenzy knew that he was just a worthless shut in, and didn’t deserve the special treatment. Maybe he just wasn’t good enough after all. He should have known.

A frantic knock at his bedroom door registered dimly in the midst of his self-deprecating spiral. It isn’t until his tail, flicking anxiously behind him, knocks over the stack of manga next to his desk and he hears the sound of your voice on the other side of the door, that his thoughts grind to a halt long enough to push his body into action. 

It’s muscle memory that gets him up, still half-lost in his head, and leads him to the door. He’s speaking the other half of this week’s special passphrase before he even realizes he’s doing it. He reaches for the door handle, then pauses. For a moment, he watches his hand tremble, and hears you again. 

“Levi?”

Sucking in a breath, he opens the door, and the smile you wear nearly blinds him. You’re clutching your DDD to your chest and look fit to bursting. 

“So?” you chirp. “Did you see it?  I bet you’re excited to get it all! We don’t even know exactly what they’re giving us!” 

Us. You had managed to get your hands on the drop. Jealousy sparks in his chest, sharp and biting, and for a moment, he resents you. He was the one who introduced you to Sucre Frenzy, and now you were the competition. In the next moment, a bucket of cold shame is dumped over his head. He couldn’t be angry with you, not really, not when your eyes sparkle in the ambient light of Henry’s fish tank. The green monster still coats his tongue as he speaks. His tail swishes over the tile behind him as he grips the side of his bedroom door, attempting to shield himself from your exuberance. 

“I didn’t get it.” It sounds pathetic in his head, but comes out of his mouth as a snarl. Your expression falls. 

“Oh.” You take a step forward, maybe without even thinking about it, and he begins to shut the door without thinking either. “Oh, Levi.”

Your foot stops him from shutting himself out completely, and you slip inside. “What happened? You’re usually lightning fast.” Your gaze slides to his monitor setup, and you take a step before stopping yourself, turning back to him to await a response and permission to continue. He can’t find anything to say, but forces something out anyway as jealousy clouds his mind. 

“It’s stupid.” 

Your hand settles on his arm, soft and unobtrusive. Your brow is furrowed, and while your eyes are sad, your voice is firm. “You’re not stupid.”

Levi realizes he’d said I’m stupid. Shame shocks down his spine twofold. You hated it when he talked down to himself. Hot tears well in his eyes as he shuts his bedroom door and crowds his body against it, forehead pressed to the wood and shoulders hunched forward. Your hand slips from him in the process, and his tail curls around both of his legs. Now he had not only lost out on this once-in-a-lifetime drop, but he’d disappointed you, too. He really was a useless idiot. 

“I hope you like your merch,” he says. He means it, at least partially, but you can hear the jealousy in his voice. “Just leave me alone.”

You’re silent for a second. Levi waits for the word of encouragement you’re sure to leave before you go, holding back angry tears until he can hear the door shut behind you.

“Levi. I didn’t get this drop for me. You can have it.” 

He doesn’t believe you. He was too slow, not well prepared enough, he didn’t deserve the merch. He wasn’t quick and bright, like you. He wishes you would leave him to his misery, but it seems you’re not done.

“Not to mention, I can’t leave.”

He glares at you from over his shoulder. “Why not?”

The corner of your mouth twitches as you gesture to him. “You’re standing in front of the door.”

He is, you’re right again, and the third hit to his fragile ego is enough to shatter it. All mirth vanishes from your face as his chin quivers and tears finally spill over his lashes. 

“Leviathan,” you say, gently, and he allows you to take him into your arms. His tail wraps around you before the rest of him, and you hold him with one hand bracing the back of his neck, and the other secured around his waist, pressed as close as you can be. He buries his face into your neck, and your cheek rests over his ear. “I mean it,” you continue as he shakes. “I know you like to have one thing to use and one to preserve, so I figured I would try to snag a second set. It won’t be exactly how you want, but I really only wanted to get it at all for you.” 

A whine pulls from his throat. He knows you well enough by now to know you’re telling the truth. You’re too good to him. 

Your hand strokes his hair, nails catching on the base of one of his antlers. “Shit happens. It isn’t your fault you didn’t make it this time, but you also have your Henry as backup. I’d never let my Lord of Shadows miss out on something I know is important, if I can help it.”

You pull away, and he reluctantly lets you, but can’t bear to look at your face. Your gentle fingers brush his long bangs out of his eyes, and the hem of your sleeve brushes over his ruddy cheeks, catching a few more tears. “I love you more than any piece of merch. And who knows, maybe Mammon caught on to the hype and managed to get in to turn it at a million grimm markup. I bet I can convince him to -ahem- permanently loan it to you. Through me.” 

This makes him chuckle, and he risks a glance at you to see you smiling. Your expression, coupled with your touch still tingling on his face, soothes over the hurt like a balm. 

“Thank you, MC.” 

You set his heart pounding again by pressing a trail of kisses across his cheek, to the corner of his mouth. “Of course. Now, they leaked a new music video link in my receipt email, so we have to watch it before anyone else does.” 

This brightens him significantly. “Really? Yeah!” He breaks away to bound over to his computer. You forward him the link, and pull your matching gaming chair next to his, settling in to help him liveblog his reaction. 

You’re true to your word, and when the conspicuously large package arrives a few weeks later, you’re breathless at his door in seconds. You hold the camera while he livestreams the unboxing, and neither of you is sure who is smiling brighter.

[angelicvigilante]

Obey me characters I think would need glasses and why, because I keep thinking about my own.

Lucifer

-Farsighted, should wear glasses all the time but absolutely refuses to. Only puts them on when reading paperwork, or when someone tries to show him a video on a phone, still puts the phone miles away from his face to see it.

Leviathan

-Based on my own prescription, but with how much he stays inside and living in the devildom, he’d definitely need transition glasses and have a high light sensitivity.

Mammon

-Also based on my own glasses and sight, he needs reading glasses, not because he can’t read without them, but because it’s more helpful than not. Mixes up words and letters very occasionally, refuses to put them on ever, probably doesn’t even know where his glasses are anyways.

Simeon

-He feels like the kind of guy who’s needed glasses his whole life, like  has always had to be in front of the class and everything, but just goes “it’s completely normal.” when anyone asks. I think he’d be slightly nearsighted, not for any specific reason. I just do.

Luke

-Once again, reading glasses, will wear them to read books and recipes and somehow always remembers where he left them.

[abberant-butler]

Again. You wake up in your bed.

___ 1/2 I started this, my room flooded. I took a week off because all my stuff was in the living room. I set up my computer, worked on this, the dishwasher leaked and the pipe that flooded my room burst again when I got back from fixing a flat tire. I feel like an OBM truther with an active hit or something (/joking, very joking). Anyway, here's the first half of a Timeloop MC. The second half will happen... eventually. I'm very invested but and life and computer access keep testing me. lol ___

Waking up in your bed wasn’t the surprise. For now, there was a moment of hope. Had you done it? Had you managed to escape? Your feet hit the cold stone floor and you know that you shouldn’t get ahead of yourself. Yet. Belphegor wasn’t at breakfast. The drop in your mood is noted, but no one yet knows you well enough to ask. So that night, you travel up the stairs, standing at an arm's length.

Belphegor berates you for trusting him. You remember that it used to break your heart to hear him talk to you like that. Now, it’s just easier to get it over with.

Again.

You wake up in your bed.

Leviathan was angry that you thought you might have answers he didn’t. Enraged that, in the end, you did. Blinded by his passion and envy, he hadn’t even connected the dots of sharing space with his favorite author. In your confidence, this time, you push him past the edge.

Mammon wasn’t quick enough to save you. Yet if you’d let Levi win, he would have killed you anyway. It was something you’d already tried. Just as you’d tried this. Over, and over.

Again.

You wake up in your bed.

You’ve never lied to Asmodeus. You know his powers don’t work on you, but on one of the tries, you just let him think it does. Naturally you tell him the truth at every moment, yet in his own paranoia, he pulls out your heart- just to be sure. It’s strange to hear how quiet your body is without that heart. Without a pulse. The first time was horrible. Now, at least, you can appreciate the swiftness and the expensive perfume as you pitch forward into his arms.

You’re not sure if his brothers ever forgive him entirely, or if the exchange program goes on. It’s not like you’re someone as important as Solomon. Sometimes you think that his end is your favorite, because it’s always out of love. Twisted, scorned, strange love.

Again.

You wake up in your bed.

It’s getting old. You’re learning. Don’t be surprised by the way that Diavolo greets you. His butler is watching. Accept your place and stand up to Mammon, because he needs to know that you’ll fight. He needs to know that he’ll have a chance to get to you, when you need him, even if you already know he won’t be. 

This time, when Lucifer tells you to guard the fridge at night from Beelzebub, you fail. Everyone is asleep. There wasn’t anything you could really expect them to do. It’s part of your internal debate on whether or not they even find evidence of your fate, or just fill out the paperwork to report you missing. Again. You wake up in your bed.

Satan offers you his pact. You know it’s reactionary… … You also know there’s no ‘right’ answer. If you accept, he’ll resent you for acting on his moment of weakness. If you reject, he’ll find your rebuff a personal affront to his importance. He’s angry beyond logic, beyond reason, but this time you try once more. There has to be a way out of this. In other tries, Satan is your friend. He shares his mystery books and his academic skills to try and help. It never works, but there has to be a way.

At least, like Asmo, his fury makes your end swift. Unlike Asmo, his rage doesn’t stop when your heart does. You imagine he goes on to destroy the rest of the house, the way you’re told he did when he was young. Again. You wake up in your bed.

Lucifer looms over you in the crypt, furious at your discovery with his brother and Luke. You can’t even blame him. It’s an invasion of privacy that you hadn’t even considered in context. Yet. You can’t bring yourself to really be upset, either. This only adds to his fury.

“Do you actually think I’m going to allow a lowly human that choice?! THAT YOU CAN HAVE WHATEVER IT IS YOU WANT?!”

No.

No, Lucifer, you never offer a choice.

Again.

Again.

Again.

Numbness is the only thing you can feel. There are no more unexpected turns. There are no more arguments that you’ve muttered to yourself for hours or days just to use them on the next try. Death is always the result, and it’s the only way that you can have a moment of peace. Otherwise it’s yelling or bickering or life threatening situations. Mammon tries, he always tries. You’ll forgive him every time for his greed, because it’s the only thing that’s never killed you.

You wake up in your bed.

You wake up in your bed.

You wake up in your bed.

It doesn’t matter if you roll over and sleep in or if you tear apart every piece of fabric that you can twist your fists into. It doesn’t matter. It always ends, it always begins again. It goes. Over and over. The only metric that you can measure by is how it will make you feel in that moment. Today, you are just… tired.

It’s old. It’s ancient. You’ve learned. Don’t be surprised by the way that Diavolo greets you. His butler is watching. Accept your place-... The butler is watching. Has he always looked so sad?

This time, when Lucifer tells you to guard the fridge that night from Beelzebub, you know that if you do not get out of bed, the wall will collapse in on you. It will be because Beel finds his pudding missing. Suffocation is the worst death, so you pull yourself from the warm blankets to head around the corner to at least find something swifter than asphyxiation.

The butler is there.

He has brought a feast.

It’s the first surprise you can remember feeling.

Beel eats what has been brought from the castle, and goes to bed. You stand, in disbelief, with your hands in hot water as you help wash the dishes. The Demon Prince’s servant is gone shortly after. He hasn’t said a word.

You slip back under your covers, the sheets still slightly warm from your earlier presence.

You wake up in your bed.

Again… 

You suppose. 

The new day feels different. Yet the same. 

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

Golden Rebellion.

A scene from s2 ep9.

Adam in a crater that was supposed to be a lake.

Adam, not facing with Vaggie: Don’t worry. I won’t pick a fight. There’s no Titan blood.

Vaggie, raising his spear anyway: Then… Why are you digging?

Adam, turning to her all of a sudden: Oh simple really. Sera, needs Titan blood to make a portal key. Can’t get to the human world without it!

Vaggie, holding the key that’s on her neck: There’s… Blood in the key?

Adam: And since I failed my last misson I thought, “Hey, a chance to make up for it!“ But I can’t go back empty-handed- Ahaha!

Adam, looking at the small hole he dug: Not again.

Adam: Long story short, this is *Points at the small hole*, ma grave. *Turns to her smiling painfully* Want me to make you one too?

Angel: This is getting disturbing.

Adam: Lucifer is small enough we could share to save time! Hehehe, cause we're all gonna die.

Adam face planted in the dirt.

Lucifer: No one is dying.

Lucifer internally: Except maybe me from getting the perfect view of your ass in the air.

Adam turned his head to the side: Do me a favor Vaggie and cover me with dirt.

Vaggie shrugged but Charlie stopped her.

Vaggie: What? He asked nicely.

Charlie: We are not burying anyone alive!

Adam: Why not? It'll be a more merciful death than what the Empress has in store. No one betrays her and lives......

[fanby-fckry]

What do you think Hazbin crew (Lucifer, Charlie and Vaggie included) would do if they were suddenly transformed into humans? For sinners it would be back to their human forms and for Morningstars and Vaggie it would be the "if they were ever humans" appearance

Ooh-hoohoohoo, this is a good question.

Sorry I’m late responding, but I’m gonna dig right into it, now.

Alastor:

Alastor would probably have the strongest negative reaction. He already hates the fact that his agency (and possibly his power) is limited by his Deal, can you imagine what being turned human (and therefor stripped of the majority of his power) against his will would do to him?

To be human is to be weak. He cannot be weak, won’t allow himself to be weak. He spent so long building his power, his reputation, his empire, and now it’s gone? Just like that? He’s back where he started in this measly human body that can’t even hold a smile properly?

Instant mental breakdown.

Angel Dust:

Angel’s reaction is going to be a bit strange, because I think it’d be less emotional and more sensory.

He’d be going from eight eyes to two, four/six arms to two, dropping several feet of height, hearing from ears vs hair, having different feet. He’d be grateful for the feet thing, don’t get me wrong, but he’d still have to relearn how to walk plantigrade, on top of all the other changes.

He’d go to reach for things with arms that aren’t there, stumble on feet he isn’t used to, and feel like a horse wearing blinders without his extra eyes for peripheral vision.

Charlie:

I think she’d be delighted, tbh. I’m not sure if this is still canon, but at one point, Viv said that Charlie has a very idealized version of what it means to be human. She’s never met an actual human (as opposed to a Sinner or Winner), and has never been to the Living World. I think she’d sing a song celebrating this opportunity to “experience the beauty of a human life!”

And then over the course of the story arc, she’d learn that, 1.) human bodies are fragile, 2.) humans are just as capable of cruelty as demons and angels, 3.) maybe her views of humanity were off just a smidge. And then she’d wanna go home.

Husk:

Idk how canon this is, but old-lore says Husk hates his demon form! So, I think he’d have a fairly positive reaction to getting his human form back.

Not that he’d show it, of course. His poker face is too good for that. He’s not going to let anyone know. (Angel figures it out, anyway. Alastor would’ve, too, if he weren’t so preoccupied with hating his own humanity.)

Lucifer:

Freaks out -> Tries to calm himself down by saying, “This can be a learning experience!” -> Freaks out again when he realizes that Charlie is human and vulnerable, and he’s human and weak, so he won’t be able to protect her the way he could as a Fallen angel.

Also, the no shape-shifting thing would be a bummer. In between steps 2 and 3, he’d be experiencing various mundane human annoyances that he never had to deal with as an angel.

Lucifer: How do you people live like this?

Alastor: Technically, we don’t! We’re all dead. :)

Lucifer: Sheesh, way to bring down the mood.

Alastor: I had to get it on your level somehow, your lowness.

Niffty:

Wildcard. I have no idea how she’d react.

I maintain that she was just as weird in life as she is in death, and that her demon form just gives her better ways to express her weirdness. So she’d probably still be hunting/torturing bugs, just with less efficiency now that she’s bigger, slower, and less fireproof.

Vaggie:

I think this one kind of depends on whether or not the Exorcists are Winners.

I, personally, think this would be Vaggie’s first time being human. I think she’d feel incredibly uneasy with it. Just an overwhelming sense of anxiety and powerlessness, constantly on edge and unable to do anything about it.

Bonus Round!

Cherri Bomb:

I headcanon Cherri as having lost an eye in an arson/explosion mishap, so she wouldn’t have as drastic of a sensory change as Angel Dust, but like. It’d still be an adjustment, considering her eye would be smaller and moved to one side of her face.

She also wouldn’t be able to summon bombs at will, which would be a major bummer. But she probably still remembers how to make them from scratch, so that’s not going to stop her, just slow her down a little.

Sir Pentious:

Leggies! He hasn’t had legs in over 100 years! He doesn’t remember how they work! But wow, it’s nice to have them!

Bonus-Bonus Round!

UHverse Lilith:

She hasn’t been human since Eden. She doesn’t quite know how to feel about this. It’s been so long since she’s been this woman. Since she’s been so unsure of herself, so weak.

She puts her emotions aside for now because they aren’t productive. She can unpack them when she gets home – cry in her husband’s arms for the first time in a century or so, knowing that she and her family are safe in their relative immortality again.

In the meantime, she needs to be present and looking for a way to fix this. Alastor is already down for the count and Lucifer is distracted by his strange new humanity. She’s going to have to take initiative here. She needs to protect her family and get them back their bodies, their powers, and their home.

Aaa, thank you so much for this ask! I had a blast answering it!

[delusionalwings]

can you do barbatos, mammon and simeon with a darling that’s physically weaker than most people? like they’re lethargic, can’t lift heavy things, pass out sometimes just from standing too long, etc.

― synopsis -> with a darling who's physically weaker than most

― characters -> mammon, barbatos, simeon

― gender neutral reader

― headcanons

― warnings -> yandere behavior, induced dependence on him (everyone), gambling, making you feel guilty, disregarding you (mammon), mentions of kidnapping, mentions of anger and violence, emotional manipulation (simeon), mentions of kidnapping, treats you like an object (barbatos)

hope this is fine!

MAMMON

First and foremost, he is glad that you don't have the strength to hang out with those other lower demons grrrr. You are his trophy and it will remain that way.

"Dontcha worry! The Great Mammon looks after his servants," he announces before using your ailment as a reason to borrow more money and gamble it all away.

He truly wants to make a fortune so that he can take you to a doctor and offer you a better life. As a result, however, he just invites more debt and a long lecture from Lucifer.

"Don't you look so concerned about me! I will find a way to make quick money and take you somewhere better."

Your pleas for him to stop fall on deaf ears. His schemes make you feel guilty; it makes you wish that you could do more for him. The bruises on his face that he clumsily tries to hide makes you feel pathetic. Since he is working so hard for you, you wonder what can you give him in return.

But then again, why can't your words be valued? Why can't he respect your wishes? Especially when his way is sure to fail? He seems to believe that since you can't get up and stop him because of your health, he would do his bidding anyway. It's almost as if you're a noble excuse for him to gamble more, without any restraint or fear or guilt.

That's how he starts returning to you with a downcast face every single day to confess the amount that he lost while you lie there, feeling mentally exhausted too, blaming and cursing yourself.

BARBATOS

Hmm... It does pose a problem but since every problem has a solution and Barbatos knows them all, he solves your dilemma too.

All you need to do is smile for him and help him relax during the rare times he is free. Other than that, worry neither about making a living nor about having any kind of freedom. So it doesn't matter if you are incapable of extreme physical exertion. There shall be no need for that when you have magic and Barbatos.

You will be provided for and get your condition checked by the best doctors and magicians. If anything, you are in very capable hands so you can just sit back and let him make all the decisions for you. Focus all your energy in resting and thinking about him till you are needed to act like you are living.

When he tells you to get up, you will get up. When he orders you to entertain him, you will obey. But be assured that he won't go out of his way to torment you physically. There's no merit in it when you can't help yourself. But you will mentally stimulate him, even when your mind is in shambles because of physical pain. You will need to push yourself often with Barbatos. It's your voluntary obedience that he desires and he will take it.

You need to learn proper etiquettes in his presence. He is your master and you need to be perfect wherever you can.

He is at ease knowing that you won't run away anytime soon so he can perform his own duties in peace. Still he is always on the watch.

SIMEON

You have your angel at your beck and call. Leave all the heavy lifting to him. All the housework is his job anyway. What else can one do when they have taken you away from the entire world? You are his duty now.

Sit down, lie down and give him cuddles, validate him, love him. He is still shy about holding you close but he enjoys your warmth and wants to get more familiar with your touch. So instead of spending the time working, take rest and let him take care of you. And when he returns tired each day, be a sweet angel for him.

It isn't like you are completely unable to use your body. A little movement here and there actually helps but Simeon doesn't believe that. Why are you getting up? No no, you will get sick. He is overcautious, to the point of hysteria.

What will he do with you if something happened to you? What will you do without him? Work yourself into some life threatening ilness!

An angry Simeon is bad news and you learn about it when you find yourself in a situation where you can't even run away. You are trapped and exhausted, scared and alert and you never escape without bruises. Sometimes he only fumes over your unconscious body before turning around.

Despite that, he always apologises, asks you to understand that it is your fault for pushing him so far. If only you had listened to him, he would have maintained his composure. Then he applies ointment on your wounds and tells you to rest. You will listen to him this time, won't you? After you saw what he is capable of otherwise, you must.

He is already upset about hurting you so he wants you to rest till you feel better. If you feel bored or want to get out of the house, he reads you various books so that you can imagine the wonders of the world. Even if you can't visit these places because of your health, you can always picture travelling there with Simeon. Imagine Simeon guiding you to the ends of the world. Always there to pamper you.

[journey-to-the-attic]

3rd anni req 7: mammon / rain + hug

ao3 link

note: this takes place during chapter 14, after ik loses her hand but before she wakes up properly - i.e. during the same general period that lucifer's pov section in chapter 15 takes place in! since this slots right into that (and since ik doesn't remember this anyway) this could now be considered canon to jtta!

i combined two separate prompts - 'hug' and 'rain', with hand-loss scene being from the rain request, since i felt like they worked well together, i also did a bit of a play on the rain prompt - requesters, hope you don't mind!! ^^

∎ ∎ ∎ ∎ ∎

It occurs to Mammon that he’s never held someone so small before. He doesn’t remember his brothers being little enough to gather in his arms so easily.

In the beginning, he’d imagined that humans couldn’t feel that different from demons or angels - after all, they’re pretty much the same thing, just in different sizes. And he’s had to pick IK up several times already, but this had been different.

Everything after stepping into the tomb is a blur. His memory only sharpens into focus after Diavolo intervenes. As the prince shouted himself hoarse, he’d looked up, and seen the three of them - big demon, little angel, scarily still human - huddled by the wall.

There had been Luke, barely disguising panicked tears, and Beel’s face had been set and pale. For a moment, it felt to him as if he were watching his brother cradle a corpse, with a mess of smoking wounds where its right hand should have been.

He sits now by Beel’s bed, where he insisted IK rest, and finds himself staring at the haphazardly wound bandages around that same wrist. He wrapped them himself, even though Solomon had told him they were unnecessary - perhaps more for himself than for IK, who isn’t conscious to appreciate the effort.

He’d been the one to carry her up from the tomb, too, insisting despite Beel’s assurances that he could do it himself. That’s the part that sticks with him even now.

It was frightening. IK, as he has learnt, should be lively. She’s a bundle of contradictions, of course - defiant in the face of monsters despite being afraid of loud corridors, bold and brave despite that instinctive polite nervousness - but, out of everything, she is never silent and still.

“Idiot,” He mumbles in the silence of the room. No one hears him - Solomon and Beel are both downstairs, and Levi’s stalked back off to his room.

“...mhh…”

His head snaps up. IK’s eyes are wide open.

The relief is tantamount to being dunked in ice after spending a year in the desert. He scrambles out of his seat, unable to bite back a grin. “Took y—”

Then he stops. Something isn’t right.

IK glances at him without moving her head. There’s something unsettling and robotic about the way she blinks.

“Good morning,” She says vaguely.

It goes without saying that the room is dark. He tries to play along, wondering if he should shout for help - did she hit her head? “Yeah, mornin’, sleepyhead. Finally up, huh?”

“Huh,” IK mimics, and this is where she’s supposed to laugh. She doesn’t. “Hey… what’s your name?”

He feels his heart sink. He tries not to let it show. “You forgot? Honestly. It’s Mammon, duh.”

“Mam-mon,” IK repeats, stumbling, as if the sound is foreign in her mouth. “Ma…mon.”

“That’s it. Good job.” He watches her face scrunch up in discomfort. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Hot,” She mumbles, and she sounds younger than he’s ever heard her. “Ow… ow!”

“Hey, hey—” He springs forward without thinking, using his hands as barriers so that she can’t suffocate herself on the pillow. “—shh, shh…”

Her cheeks feel red-hot against his palms. There’s something he’s supposed to do for that, right? He glances to the side, then remembers the basin and towel on the nightstand.

“Alright, kid—” He makes sure she’s listening. “—I need ya to stay still. Can ya do that for me?”

“Hurts,” IK mutters hoarsely, and he feels something damp trickle over his knuckles. “Mammon…”

“Shh,” He repeats, quieter. It’s strange how naturally it comes to him. “You’ll feel better soon, alright? Won’t be a second.”

He moves as quickly as he dares, dunking the towel in the cold water, then wringing it out again. He turns on the lamp while he’s by the table, and IK’s little tear-stained face is thrown into sharp relief. It just about breaks his heart.

“Deep breaths,” He says absently, and lays the towel across her forehead, like he’s seen Solomon do. “One, two, three…”

He watches the anguish melt from her face, but the relief only lasts a moment - because now she’s blank again, and it feels like she’s staring right through him. IK blinks once, twice. One last gathered tear slides down her face.

She reaches up - with her left hand - and touches her face. “...it’s raining.”

“Sure,” He agrees quietly. “It’s raining.”

It might as well be. The strange, static-y sound in his ears is just like any downpour he’s ever heard.

IK lifts her right hand and reaches for the ceiling - for those umbrellas the twins strung up for whatever reason, years and years ago. They’ve never been used the way they’re supposed to.

“I can’t reach,” IK mumbles. “I can’t… hold anything. I can’t feel my fingers. I don’t have…”

She stares at the white bandages around her wrist. Mammon suddenly wishes he’d done a neater job. From here, in the dim lamp-light, it looks like jagged bone; he can’t decide whether that’s better or worse than the web of dark scars beneath the clean gauze.

He can’t think of anything he could possibly say. Slowly, IK lowers her hand again.

“Did I make him angry?” She asks. She looks tiny. “Did I… did I do something bad?”

He shakes his head firmly. “No. No way. Lucifer was just being an idiot.”

IK’s eyes widen a little. “You can’t say that. He’ll hear you.”

“So what if he does? I can say whatever I damn well please,” Mammon mutters, thinking that he should’ve socked him properly while he had the opportunity.

IK is smiling at him now. It’s small, almost ghostly, but it relieves him all the same. “You’re cool.”

“Duh. Ya only just noticed?” He tries not to look too pleased. She seems more comfortable now, so he decides to remove the towel.

Her eyes are a little red at the corners. He gives them a dab, then chucks the towel back into the basin, and pats her face dry with his sleeve.

…feels like he’s playing house. Has he ever done something like this before? Even back then, he wasn’t exactly responsible enough to be playing nurse.

“Mammon,” IK says, voice small again, “Am I dying?”

“What?!” It comes out louder than he means it to. He quickly lowers his volume. “What’re you talkin’ about?”

“I’ve seen this in movies,” She mumbles. “I feel like… I’m going somewhere. Somewhere really far away. Or maybe you’re going…?”

“I’m right here, kid. Nothing’s gettin’ rid of me.”

And he makes his next decision on a whim. He carefully tucks some of the blanket out of the way, slides his arm beneath IK’s shoulders, and pulls her into a hug that - conveniently - keeps him steadied enough on the mattress to still the trembling in his arms.

IK barely moves, remaining unnervingly still throughout it all, but she hums as if to say thank you. So he stays there until her eyes close again, and for a little while longer after that.

She’ll be alright - IK’s a strong kid. Any human who makes it in the Devildom has to be, but especially one capable of stepping in front of a seething Avatar of Pride, and insulting him to his face, according to Solomon’s account.

It confuses him a little. If he had a spirit like that, he’d be on top of the world, but IK carries herself more like an inconvenience than a presence.

Right now, that presence is small, warm, and alive. She’d been limp and still as he carried her up here, the chill of the tomb clinging to her clothes - small, stiff, each breath laboured, as if they might stop at any minute. It’d been like holding a puppet whose strings had broken.

He doesn’t know when he started caring so much - doesn’t know why he keeps this weird little human nestled in his arms - but it scares him. If something like this happens again, he just might die.

[cas-kingdom]

Supernatural Masterpost

Main Masterpost

one shots

A Brother Like No Other (Sam x Dean) - Sam sometimes forgets that he’s not the older brother.

Toast (Sam x Dean x Castiel) - Castiel makes toast for the first time.

My Humans (Sam x Dean x Castiel) - Dean sticks post-it notes to his brother’s back, and Cas is one confused angel.

Louder Than Thunder (John x reader) - John helps you overcome your fear of thunder.

Sunset (John x reader) - You and John have a picnic and watch the sun set.

Tears (John x reader) - You talk to your dad before he leaves to go on a hunt.

A Father’s Love (John x reader) - “No man in this world can love a girl more than her father.” You learn this after having a pretty horrible argument with Dean.

Ladybird (Gabriel x reader) - Gabriel. A brother, a protector, a survivor. And most importantly, your best friend.

Into Battle (Gabriel x reader) - You’re about to enter the biggest battle you’ll ever face. A snowball fight.

A Light in the Dark (Dean x Crowley x reader) - Part of being an older brother means chasing away the nightmares. That’s what Sam and Dean’s been doing since you were a little girl. Now, it’s Crowley’s turn.

All That Matters (Sam x Dean x reader) - You lose against Dean in a wrestling match. What could get worse than that?

Get Some Sleep (Castiel x reader) - When you refuse to go to sleep, it takes a certain angel to remind you who’s the boss.

To Annoy an Angel (Castiel x reader) - There’s no better way to pass the time than annoying Cas. Cas, on the other hand, has a different opinion on the matter.

Fade Into You (Castiel x reader) - Sometimes, you just need a hug, and Cas is all too happy to oblige.

Bring Him Back (Gabriel x reader) - Gabe was here, but he wasn’t… here. Not your Gabe, anyway. But don’t worry, you’d bring him back.

Hey Brother (Dean x reader) - You were meant to be home six hours ago. Dean’s not happy. At all. Or: Even when you’re alone, your brother is always there.

Living (Sam x Dean x Castiel x reader) - Cas walks in on you and Dean sliding along the hallway in socks. It’s all fun and games until someone breaks their ankle.

Nobody Knew (Lucifer x reader) - People forget that the Devil was once an Angel.

Gimme a Kiss (Crowley x reader) - Crowley wants a good night kiss, and he’s not letting you leave without one.

I’ve Got You (Crowley x reader) - You’re injured, and the first person you go to is Crowley.

About a Dog (Sam x Dean x Castiel x reader) - Even dead, Gabriel still finds ways to make you happy.

Learning to Love (Sam x Dean x Castiel x Jack x reader) - A nephilim asks an angel for dating advice. What could go wrong?

Archangels and Austerity (Gabriel x reader) - After Jack asks you out on a date, Gabriel turns up… and he’s not happy.

Toro (Dean x reader) - He looked like a bull about to charge. And what do you do when you’re faced with a bull? You run.

A Memory (John x reader) - Jack has disappeared, you haven’t heard from Cas in a while, and you’re starting to miss how things used to be.

Taken (Sam x Dean x Castiel x Jack x reader) - The blood of a virgin is needed in many a spell, and Sam and Dean have become accustomed to turning to you. However, after one particular night, they’re about to find out they’re going to have to turn to someone else from now on. And it can’t be Jack.

Real (Dean x reader) - While Michael’s possessing Dean, he says things to you that make you think.

Soldier (Gabriel x reader) - Gabriel finds out you’ve been keeping something from him, and he’s not impressed.

Locked In (Sam x Dean x Castiel x reader) - Jack’s locked in the box, and you’re only just finding out.

A Little Unsteady (Jared Padalecki x reader) - You have to get a cavity filled, and it’s your first one. Naturally, you’re quite nervous, and who better to help calm those nerves than Jared Padalecki?

drabbles

John x reader (“I was just worried.”)

John x reader (“You can’t give up something you haven’t even started.”)

John x reader (“Remind me never to play this damn game with you again!”)

Dean x John x reader (“Are you really reading right now?”)

John x OC (“I shouldn’t have to tell you how dangerous that was!”)

John x OC (“You did this to get my attention and now you fully have it. Let’s hear it.”)

Gabriel x reader (“I don’t care when you go to bed, but do you have to wake me up in the middle of the night with your loud music?”)

Chuck x reader (“You forgot to say the Magic Words.”)

Sam x Dean x reader (“What are you running from?”)

Dean x reader (“Give them back.”)

Chuck x reader (“Don’t make me come get you.”)

Sam x reader (“You don’t scare me.”)

Gabriel x reader (“Move over!”)

Dean x Ben x reader (“Seriously, have you seen how old he’s gotten?”)

Castiel x reader (“That’s against the rules.”)

Crowley x reader (“When am I going to join your little game? Hm. Never.”)

Bobby x reader (“Could you stop throwin’ that damn ball against the house?”)

Gabriel x Chuck x reader (“Wanna build a tree fort?”)

Dean x reader (“Sorry, I can’t help you.”)

Dean x reader (“How long will this take?”)

Castiel x reader (“Oh? You want me to tickle you that bad?”)

Gabriel x Chuck x reader (“Now, let me watch the freaking movie in peace!”)

Dean x Sam (“You’re okay, Sammy.”)

Dean x reader (“I love you.”)

Dean x reader (”Don’t tell Sam?”)

[shallowseeker]

Hey shall, what's your favourite/fun headcanons on why cas keeps getting resurrected at first I tought it was cause god/chuck liked him (like remember when ppl in the destiel fandom talked about how chuck ships them... good times) Then yea, that just didn't turn out to be true lol

Ohh, this is fun. I have some nice uplifting ones and one very evil one. I could probably come up with a ton of these, and I'm not feeling super eloquent this week, but have my mental popcorn instead:

CHUCK/NETWORK NEEDED CAS -> Popularity ...and it bit Chuck in the ass because he accidentally allowed Cas to grow more and more powerful, even when he (and the writers) worked so hard to weaken him and kill him off. I don't have the exact quotes, but I know there are numerous instances that imply the writers worked hard to weaken Cas.

When the writers have to work to make Cas weaker, and to make Dean and Sam stronger, it shows that Cas is the bigger threat, in terms of cosmic power.

Emotional consequences: Because Cas is important to Dean, Cas is often resurrected specifically because Dean loses hope without him. After his first death, Cas literarily functions as The Lost Husband/The Animal Bridegroom/The Artificial Husband for Dean specifically. Unlike characters like Sam's Amelia (season 8), Dean is obsessed with clinging to his loved ones, saying to CAS: "I did not leave you!" and to NAOMI through CAS: "Take it! But you're gonna have to kill me first. Come on, you coward. Do it. Do it!" In his insistance to look for Cas in Purgatory and keep not giving up on Cas, he sets himself apart from his many mirrors. He's a lot like the human consort in many of the “supernatural spouse” tales, brave and insistent in his trials, even when death separates him from his lover. NOTE: Amelia Novak also becomes a heroine in this regard when she decided to go looking for her "lost husband," Jimmy Novak but becoming ensnared and dies in season 10. ANYWAY, Dean and Cas tend to die when the other isn't around, and they both get so depressed it makes for pretty abysmal watching. Chuck doesn't like Cas, but he needs Cas because Dean needs Cas. Dean won't behave unless he has Cas with him. DEAN from 13x03: "This life, hunting, monsters, there’s no joy in it. There’s nothing but pain, horror and death." And DEAN from 13x05: BILLIE: Maybe you’re not that guy anymore, they guy who saves the world, the guy who always thinks he’ll win no matter what. You have changed. And you tell people it’s not a big deal. You tell people you’ll work through it but you know you won’t, you can’t and that scares the hell out of you. Or… am I wrong? DEAN: What do you want me to say? Doesn’t matter. I don’t matter.

///

TETHERED TO A BROTHER or TWIN -> Functions as a thrown lifeline; i.e. one shield must fall before the other can

Not Cas-specific, but so long as your "tethered" twin is alive you cannot die. We see this with Amara and Chuck, that taking out Chuck requires killing Amara. This appears often in SPN, like with Charlie and There's No Place Like Home and the Wizard. It makes you wonder if Michael and Lucifer are similar. If you squint, Chuck does not seem able to kill Michael in 15x19 until after Lucifer has been killed. Makes you wonder if that was his intent on having them kill each other all along. That by having one kill the other, he could finally take out the son-rivals, as in the style of archetypical God-father who, because of their immortality, sees sons as threat to power. So what does that mean for Cas? Not sure, but he could be tethered to an angel that's still living. Maybe jack himself? (Or Dean's soul, for that matter.) It's assumed that Jack wakes up Cas, but there's juicy potential for it to have been Dean doing it all along, something Jack tapped into when Dean was screaming in grief during the Sam fight: DEAN: He manipulated him, he made him promises, said, ‘paradise on earth’ and Cas bought it and you know what that got him? It got him dead! Now you might be able to forget about that, but I can’t! [JACK looks distressed outside the room.] JACK: Castiel. [JACK’S eyes glow gold.]

///

MANY OF CHUCK'S REBELLIOUS CHILDREN ARE ACTUALLY CURSED TO BE RISING-AND-DYING GODS

As to quote Gabriel, "they are like cancer," he has to eradicate them, as they represent wars of old which are no longer needed. I know the rising-and-dying deity motif is something of a modern configuration, but since it appears in Remember the Titans, you have to wonder if this is a nature intrinsic to Cas himself. As angels are unable to sleep, they are unable to die. From 8x16: ZEUS: Tell me, has Prometheus experienced the child's death yet? [HAYLEY gives a nod.] How did he take it? Did he hurt? [HAYLEY nods again.] Good. ...I never get tired of watching you die. [ZEUS, holding SHANE up, says it right into his ear.] Your boy is going on the mountain. (Interestingly, the mountain forward-references to the episode Moriah.) From 14x08: COSMIC ENTITY: Stop interrupting! Start paying attention. I'm taking him. And where I'm taking you is worse than Hell… because at least Hell is something. Ohh. Ohh, God, they look scared. Does that hurt you? Good… because I want it to. In this interpretation, the Shadow is a higher God, and it has cursed Castiel for helping humanity the same way Prometheus helped humanity. It uses similar linguistics!

///

EVIL CAS/SHADOW MEANING -> God's most trusted double agent

Cas is resurrected by Chuck because he's secretly an intractable agent of Chuck, God's most trusted, analogues to how Ruby was "the best of those sons of bitches." This would take on a Christian overtone, that Chuck and Jack are the same person. Evil interpretation where Cas having been an agent of Fate all along. With this shadow meaning, "Cas helped" from 15x20 becomes especially ominous. But there's also "it's not the bait, it's the fish, I think they're beginning to anticipate me" from 15x06 right after Dean accuses him of being "the something that always goes wrong." There's something eerie in the idea that Chuck and Jack are in fact the same person, and Castiel is loyal to Him above all. "This lie won't hurt them," from Gimme Shelter etc etc. This would make Dean, like Sally in "Last Call" the real symbolic fish. If hunting is recklessness, fishing is patience, and Cas/God/Jack were being patient and fishing Dean's soul all along, baiting him with Love. Cas as a honey trap is a frightening thought, honestly, and although I don't prefer this shadow interpretation, it IS scary if someone wanted to explore it or have Dean simply fear this possibility, you know? Dean has an inherent fear of large powers, like Godstiel, and Jack's power, and he's right to fear it. At the end of the story, Cas and Jack are the only main characters still alive, so there's a real possibility that it is Cas who won the long game, not Chuck.

edit - there’s also cas has a soul theory, that he cannot sleep in the empty the sand way jack becomes aware of heaven in byzantium

[leviathans-watching]

mfil - 25

-` ♡ ´- m.list | no taglist | next | wc: .5k

-` ♡ ´- a/n: ap exam cram time :)

*NOT CLICKBAIT!!!* when asmo learns that you, the newest exchange student has a youtube account and following somewhat comparable to his own, he decided right then and there not to like you. however, after an unfortunate (and misleading) exchange goes viral, he has no choice but to fake date you in order to save face. will asmo crush you and put you into place like you deserve? or are those funny feelings in his stomach not hate, like he had thought? like, subscribe, and maybe fall in love (with this smau) to find out!!

despite your reservations, you find that you and asmodeus actually work quite well together. you’re both able to do your own thing without much direction from the other, and before you know it, you have everything divvied up and a research plan made. your progress journal actually has an entry in it, something you’d never thought you’d see.

“perfect,” asmodeus says, shutting his laptop with a crisp snap, “just in time for my live stream.”

“what are you even live streaming about?” you ask, beginning to pack up your things. it’s idle curiosity really, not genuine care.

“some dumb brand sent me their products to test so i have to do a review and everything,” he replies, nodding to a box in the corner of his room. “i think it’s makeup.”

“you don’t know for sure? and geez, what would the brand think if they knew you called them dumb?” you ask wryly, and he rolls his eyes.

“whatever. unless you’re secretly recording the conversation–you’re not, right?–then they won’t ever know.”

you don’t deign him with a reply. honestly, you can’t quite fathom being so blase about a brand sending you stuff to test. maybe that is the true indicator of the difference between your and asmodeus’ positions.

or of your characters, you think, and hold back a snort.

“well, i better get out of your hair,” you say, standing. “thanks, i guess, for working with me on this and not making my life any more difficult than you already make it.”

“hey!” asmodeus says, affronted, “that’s my line.”

“please,” you say. “out of the two of us, you’re definitely the bigger headache.”

“you’re just jealous,” he says.

“sure, whatever helps you sleep at night.”

and though you’re arguing like you’ve done countless times in the past, it seems to lack some of that vitriol that had been there previously. maybe forced exposure to one another was actually working. sure, asmodeus is still a huge insecure jerk, but he’s not totally un-standable all of the time.

“alright, you can leave now,” he says with a huff, bringing ou out of your thoughts. “unless you’re too stunned by my charm, wit, and beauty.”

yeah, you take back everything you’d just thought. “in your dreams," you snort, slinging your bag over one shoulder and not looking back as you leave his room. you hope his live stream goes terribly.

it takes you some time to find your way back downstairs (seriously, the house is more of a maze than diavolo’s castle is), but when you do, you run into his brothers, who are all in the living room.

“are you leaving?” satan asks, jumping up when he sees you. “so soon?”

“well, asmodeus kicked me out,” you shrug. “and anyway, it’s about my lunchtime anyway.”

“why don’t you just stay here for lunch?” Beelzebub asks, exchanging looks with belphegor. you don’t really want to do that, but know it’ll piss asmodeus off, so you agree.

“as long as i’m not an imposition.”

“nonsense,” lucifer waves you off. “it’ll give us a chance to all know one another better.”

you get the sudden feeling you’ve just walked right into the clutches of a wolf pack, then brush it off. “that’s really nice of you. of course i’ll stay. let me just text diavolo and let him know so he doesn’t worry about me.”

leviathans-watching's work - please do not copy, repost, or claim as your own

[liamgallaghermpreg]

jeremiah 8:20

– for @wincestwednesdays prompt: blood

Deanna’s never been the best at keeping track of her period, though in her defense her cycle has never exactly been regular. There’s always something – constantly swapping between fake insurances, going on and off the pill. A poor diet. Stress. Etcetera.

But in Detroit, she knows it’s been too long. A couple months, maybe three. She can’t remember. Can’t remember the last time she’d woken up with stains in her panties or the last time Sam had looked up from between her legs to say uh, I think it’s time to stock up on tampons, Dee. Everything in the past couple months has run together between God and the Devil and the angels who want to kill them and keep them alive and she just can’t remember jack shit.

She can’t even remember when this might have happened. Her and Sammy haven’t screwed much since she'd died and come back again, but clearly their sex life hasn’t suffered enough for them to not have fucked raw at least once these past few months.

She doesn’t bother to tell anybody. Bobby, Cas – they have enough on their plates, and Deanna’s just told her little brother to go ahead and offer himself up to Satan. Sorry, Dad. Couldn’t keep Sammy safe. Couldn’t keep him from knocking me up, either.

Deanna can’t have a baby, no matter how many secret domestic fantasies she harbors. Holding it, rocking it to sleep and passing out in a handmade chair. Sammy coming to find her and lifting the baby from her arms and putting it in the crib all gentle. Going days on not even her requisite 4 hours of beauty sleep. In another life, maybe. She can’t have a baby and she especially can’t have a baby with Sam, so maybe it doesn’t matter.

“Did you know?” Deanna asks Cas, driving away from Lawrence all those hours later. Maybe days later. It’s all run together; she’s doing 80 in a 55 easy, and the trees that line the highway pass as nothing more than brown-grey-green blurs.

“Did I know what?” Castiel asks. He won’t look at her and well, that’s just fine. Her eyes are on the road and her grip on the wheel is so tight that she can feel all the folds and impressions in the leather making divots on her palm. She’s not looking at anybody.

“Don’t play dumb, Cas. That ain’t you.”

Castiel sighs, and then he’s so silent that she thinks maybe he’s gone, the bastard. Never was very good at goodbyes.

“It wasn’t a choice.”

“Huh?”

“When I healed you,” Castiel says. His breathing is even; if he had a heartbeat Deanna is sure it would be steady. She feels like her whole esophagus is going to be ripped out from her throat any second, can feel a wave threatening to crash behind her eyelids, and here he is with his even cadence and his abiding faith in God. “When I healed you, it – I healed everything. I didn’t get to pick and choose.”

“Right,” she says. The mile markers and exit signs pass too fast for her to read them. “Right, I knew that.”

Castiel's voice sounds so gentle when he says: “Lucifer had beat you nearly to death. It was already dead, Deanna.” She hates it.

And aren't these things supposed to end in blood, anyway? Shouldn’t she have had this one last thing, one last moment of watching a part of her brother bleed from her, one last bit of Sam to have and to hold and to lose? Shouldn’t she have felt that singular pain, sharp in her gut, heavy in her cunt? Shouldn't she have bled for all those months she went without? It shouldn't have ended in nothing but a touch to the forehead. Everything she’s ever had, all taken away by God; fucking God and the Devil and all the angels who want to keep her alive. She’s not sure there are any left who want her dead, and maybe she wishes there were.

“Well, that’s just bullshit,” she says. Castiel doesn’t point out how thick her voice sounds. He doesn’t point out how it cracks over the sharp punch of the shit. With a flutter of wings, he’s gone. It doesn’t matter. She can’t have a baby, and she especially can’t have a baby with Sam. She’ll go live this apple pie life because that’s what Sammy wanted, and she’ll do it with somebody else’s kid.