#one step closer to the demon king

[choujinx]

MAWANGKKAJI HAN GEOREUM (2021-?) by yun-hong

[iwillfightformydream]

Looks like Yuria has required a tall mount companion.

[jimmybaeshair]

he just like me frfr

[blackhazefanblog]

Thank you sm for making this list for me! ❤ There are so many and I'm very grateful! I wanted to respond in kind with a list of my own and it took me a while as well, but I'm finally finished!

List of Manhwa recommendations by Black Haze fans for Black Haze fans!

I'll add some of my own to the list so we all hopefully have things to read to fill the void of waiting for BH's rerelease! 🙏

Since my own tastes are pretty diverse categorising was kinda impossible; but know that I'm suggesting all these based on genre, themes, or tropes being similar to Black Haze in some way (I'll mention how in my commentary after the respective synopsis). But they'll generally have historical and/or fantasy elements with little to no romance and feature friendships / family relationships.

I'll link mine straight to Baka Updates since they usually link out to other sites with official releases. Most are manhwas and I've tried to stick with them, but there'll be the odd manga or manhua if I feel like it really fits Black Haze well. Ones in pink have female leads, ones in blue have male leads and purple have both male and female lead.

They are also in no particular order bc they vary far too greatly from each other and thus I entirely failed to organise this, so treat it as a treasure hunt and maybe you'll find some gold in there somewhere!

Chang ge xing

Shortly after astrology predicts destruction to befall the Tang Dynasty, a coup d'état led by the crown prince Li's very own brother kills him and his wife and sons. Li's daughter, princess Yongning, manages to escape, but is soon declared dead alongside her family. Full of wrath, the princess who is skilled in martial arts and war tactics swears to avenge her family and take back the throne; thus she takes on different identities and traverses the world on her journey to change a world which also slowly changes her.

This is my personal fav comic after BH, well suited for those who enjoy smart and strong, capable MCs enriched by multifaceted identities exploring a historical epic filled with political intrigue and family drama with a storyline focused on character development. I also highly recommend this series for the people who like Rubymonter's character and want to see more of a teenage girlboss politician princess fighting a men's war splendidly. Also, much like BH, it has also been on indefinite hiatus for over half a decade! Yay! (Ok so that's not a good thing- but you can't deny the similarity 💀)

The Vampire Lord's greatest wife

Sylvania is a noble daughter disguised as a lowly maid named Miria. She had always lived in misery ever since her entire family was wiped out by vampires. But since marrying the mysterious Count Alaric and learning his true identity, Sylvania's life has changed forever. Who really is Alaric, and will she be able to survive politics and conflict within and without his life safely as a powerless human?

About an MC who promptly finds herself thrown into the midst of political drama of nonhuman creatures which could easily decide the fate of the whole human race itself. So she finds herself potentially the last stand for humanity, while being unsure of whether she can survive the chaos she's in herself. Also, the Vampire King has two very different and opposing personalities to him with no control over the switch from one to the other, complicating his internal and external affairs alike. 👀 One might question me recommending a story with "GREATEST WIFE" in the title, but I assure you, it refers to how nearly all of the vampire lord's previous wives have met their ends due to political schemes, and now his first human wife faces the challenge of trying to survive the dark intrigue she's embroiled in.

I tried to become a loyal sword

To save her younger sister Aria from her illness, Cassmire Crisis became a mercenary, wielding a sword and shedding blood to pay for her medicine. But when Cassmire suffers a fall one day, memories of her past life as Aria’s wicked stepsister come flooding back. Rather than take up the role of villainess again, Cassmire vows to protect Aria this time and grant her a safe and happy life, vowing to protect her as her loyal sword! But all of her sister's destined love interests also seem to have gotten entangled in her own life instead!

Hear me out guys: She is the female version of the Black Magician. Becoming a skilled mercenary at a young age hunting monsters for a living and becoming famous far and wide for her black aura, and despite hiding her identity for the sake of peace in her life she soon finds herself facing a crazy harem of guys who are obsessed with her after being saved by her. Though admittedly, unlike BH, the guys are romantically interested in her as well. But if it's any consolation she also has the romantic awareness of a brick wall and cannot tell that any of the people that are in love with her are such and they have all thus been friendzoned indefinitely. In the meantime our MC is dutifully dedicated to protecting everyone, to a worrying degree that she is disregarding herself in the process.

Nurarihyon no mago

Rikuo grew up in a house full of yokai, so he always thought they were cool. But the kids in his class talk about yokai like they're bad! When his grandfather announces Rikuo as his chosen heir to run the Nura clan, Rikuo is torn between his human nature and his duties as a yokai. The rest of the clan's not so crazy about a wimpy part-human as their ruler, particularly Gagoze, a high-ranking yokai who would rather eat a human than be ruled by one.

Features a part demon (youkai) and part human male protag who not only has differing personalities between his two sides, but also drastically different appearances. It features him dealing with the dualities of his life as a normal human school boy, while secretly being the next leader of his demon clan. I will admit, this series doesn't go as far into exploring the dichotomy between his personalities, the conflicts in his differing lives, or politics of the demons as I would have liked, but it still works with some of the same ingredients that Black Haze does.

Shuumatsu no laughter

When corruption consumed the world, a demon with 101 mouths appeared to destroy the world, but some persisted in fighting it and after seven days of struggle the demon was destroyed. Or so they thought. But immortal people bearing the mark of "mouth of the demon" began appearing in the world, invulnerable to death. A man bearing the demon's mouth named Godot, has blackmailed a town extorting food and supplies, and in exchange promises not to harm the inhabitants. One day another man also bearing the demon's mouth appears, accompanied only by a young girl whom he calls his sister, though such people are not known for having families. Claiming to be an demon eater, he promises to rid the town of Godot once and for all. Who is this young man, and what are his intentions? How does he plan to kill his fellow immortal, Godot?

Another dark fantasy featuring an intelligent and cool level-headed male protag, who fights with his wits rather than his fists and plans, prepares and takes precaution; exploring a story about humanity and what makes someone a human or demon ...including a lil' twist about which the main character himself is. It also delves a bit into philosophical and psychological elements, with an undercurrent about the theme of love, family and belonging.

Uglyhood

The world is being assimilated by a crazy religion, and to stop it I have become their satan. The religion is controlled by aliens, and people don’t have a clue. The world says that aliens don’t exist, but they are everywhere. How am so I certain? Because I am also an alien.

A series starring an OP protagonist who is wanted by an authoritative cultish organisation that governs their world, it has a lot of memes and silly comedy but underneath it all is a dark story with themes of religion, politics and psychology as the protagonist explores the reality of the world around her and who she really is. Just like the protag's fighting style, the plot packs quite the punch as it's one of those stories that will likely leave you reeling from the deep drama inside even as you're laughing over the hilarious comedy outside.

One step closer to the demon king

When the infamy of the Demon King echoes to the ocean's depths, Yuria, the king of the sea, decides to venture onto land and challenge them. However, the very act of gaining two legs robs her of all her power, transforming her into a helpless child. Now faced with this unexpected twist of fate, can Yuria rise above this setback and defeat the Demon King to claim her place as the most powerful being in the world?

An amnesic human(???) MC who has troublesomely spotty and unreliable memory but seems to be an originally strong entity currently bound by a small mortal body tries to organise and order a main cast of chaotic characters none of whom are remotely normal or sane as they embark on many hilarious misadventures as affairs gradually lead on to a more serious and dire plotline.

Lime Odyssey: The chronicles of ORTA

Lime Odyssey: The Chronicles of ORTA follows the journey of an ordinary high school student who is thrown into the fantasy world of Orta and must embark on a journey to find a magical fruit called LIME to return home.

One of my first manhwa, and still one of the most memorable. It stood out to me early on for featuring a more caring and chivalrous ML like Rood is, and having the plot that it did: You know the anime movie "Your name"? Yeah, the girl gets isekai'd into the body of a guy in a fantasy world... except his conscious is still there too and they are able to communicate with each other as they try to navigate their unfortunately conjoined lives and journey on a mission to make a wish to return to their own bodies. A brilliant set up for a ton of comedy, and boy don't we get it! Much like BH it makes you laugh early on at all the well-timed comedy until the rest of the plot with its tragedy reveals itself and leaves you crying and screaming in equal measure for the second half of the story. It also features unexpectedly well crafted intricate plot-twists, characters with complex motives and motivations, hidden identities, tragic bromance, and dragons.

A ranker's guide to the good life

In a world filled with towers, dungeons, and monsters, some people have awakened with special powers. While these hunters risk their lives in battle and climb the world rankings, Jio Gyeon is happy to just sit back and enjoy a simple life of leisure. But Jio has a secret—she’s the strongest hunter in the world. But when a time traveling stranger warns her of humanity's bleak future, will Jio finally take action? And what enemies are waiting for her to reveal her true identity?

This is a relatively new series and we haven't made as much headway into the plot yet, but I feel like including it due to me falling in love with the series bc the MC reminded me of Rood/Blow: Becomes the number one strongest around at a very young age but hides her identity to live a peaceful life, possesses a pet dragon, has the personality and reclusive nature of a cat, wears loose comfy clothing including lots of hoodies, possesses short black hair and eyes that glow a different colour when powers are activated. We have yet to see more of the story, but it seems like it focuses on her being the strongest person around and encountering newfound complex situations that can put even someone like her in trouble, while dealing with the mental burden of the power she has as she feels guilt of being involved with people she could save, clashing with her ideals of staying aloof and out of trouble.

Villains are destined to die!

Playing Daughter of the Duke’s Super Love Project as the easy mode heroine, Ivonne, makes charming the male characters a breeze. But once you switch to hard mode and step into the shoes of Penelope, the misunderstood villain, it’s nearly impossible to even stay alive! So imagine the shock of suddenly waking up in Penelope’s body—you know right away that your life is on the line. With love interests who will kill you if their affection meters drop too low and the inability to speak without choosing from pre-selected dialogue, it quickly becomes clear that Penelope’s chances have been rigged from the start—and this villain might just be destined to die!

Much like how BH satirises several fantasy shounen cliches, this series does quite the same with romance shoujo cliches and very much feels like the spiritual female counterpart to BH. They both feature an MC trying to survive a tragedy story while dealing with a harem of diverse psychos presenting various unique challenges to deal with, whose feelings for her often bring more harm than good due to their self-interests. Plus both stories go unexpectedly deep into realistic human relationships and themes of family, loyalty, love and trust. But not without a sensible and sassy protag bring us some comedy the whole journey!

How a mage welcomes death

For the past 300 years, Ente has fought against the dragon, Caliesto, as the reigning Magnus. When she finally slays her nemesis, she welcomes death with open arms, hoping to meet her beloved teacher in the afterlife. But instead of finally gaining the eternal rest she has long yearned for, she opens her eyes in the body of Melissa Tiony, the richest bachelorette in the empire. Ente realizes that her lifelong mission has yet to be fulfilled, as it is impossible for her to die so long as Caliesto still breathes. She must find a way to regain her magic and finish him once and for all, and the first step to doing so is attending the Academy of Magic in the city of Kastium. Ente sets out on another journey, hoping that this one will be her last.

In a lot of ways this feels like a manhwa featuring a genderbent Rood: It's about a cool and smart protag who used to be a famous OP black haired mage but now finds their soul transferred into someone else's weak blonde and blue eyed body, and then enrolls in a magic school experiencing the value of simpler things in life like having friends and fun, all while hiding her true identity and continuously trying to unravel the mysteries of how things came to be about her situation and resolving the looming danger that threatens the safety of the world. Also yes she does appear to have a love interest, but she neither knows nor cares about that (just like Rood). There also is a dragon, though it's unfortunately the antagonist.

I became the Demon King's right hand, so I'm altering the story!

An office lady falls from a building is reincarnated into another world where she ends up at the Demon Kings castle. The Demon King was her favourite character from the novel that made her days bright in the past, can she save his future from the destined tragic ending she read before?

For all the Blow fangirls who wanted to jump into the story and save yo man from the tragedy tag, this is for you! That the Demon King in the story looks a lot like our own is the icing on the cake! I myself had a blast reading this because the FL's feelings were something waaay too hilariously familiar to me in how her monotonous everyday life brightened by reading this fantasy comic where the Demon King is her favourite character and is horrified to find out he's going to die hated and misunderstood in the end. More than once I've wished I could get isekai'd into Black Haze to help save Blow and it's great to see someone else living out that dream.

The children's teacher Mr.Kwon

A gangster boss from the city decides to lay low and go to a rural school to teach a class of five young children, oblivious that his past may get in the way of their future.

Ever considered what BH might be like if Blow had to lie low by going undercover as a teacher instead of a student? WELL! Look no further! I would have to say Kwon is more like the Demon King himself as the MC though, as he's a powerful overlord of his people who doesn't show much emotion but gets attached to the people around him without realising it and consequently doesn't know how to deal with that very well as he feels unworthy of being near the people closest to him. Much like BH it kicks off with a ton of comedy hijinks to make you laugh before dropping lore, drama and tragedy to tug your heartstrings.

Dadadadan!

One is super shy around girls. The second just hates them. The third couldn't care less unless she’s 2-D. Welcome to Dadadadan, a slapstick school life comedy following the antics of three males and their troubles with the enemy – females. Though the trio can’t stand to be near the opposite sex (either out of hate, disinterest, or difficulty), the girls themselves have no problem migrating to them!

If you enjoyed the main Helios Idun trio's comedy slice of life antics living together at the school dorms and wanted to see more, this is for you! Easily one of the best comedy manga I've ever read, starring one of the most iconic all-boys OT3s. Much like BH it's extremely chaotic bizarre in the situations they find themselves in despite being entirely logical, and some of the stories go on to explore deeper and darker drama on occasion. (I would also like to mention that though it looks very shoujo-y on the surface, it's just the art and the series itself has no actual romance at all.)

If you try out any of these and liked them, please do let me know! 👋

List of some of webtoon and manhwa recs.

First of all I should probably say that my favorite type of stories (so the type you might find in the list bellow) is ’tragedy comedy adventure’ without any romance, but possibly a lot of bromance | tension (ok some BL slipped by me into this list). And rather self destructive mc for the sake of their goal (often to the utter despair of the people who care about them xd). Bring forth conflicts and battles of will and rising against destiny !

@blackhazefanblog I did this for you! It took a while. Even if I think you’ll find the ones in [The Fantasy Kind] are the most likely to have similar vibes to black haze. : D

All summaries are from Baka-Updates or WebtoonLine. The links are either towards WebtoonLine, or towards the original official site (or official english translation if i found it).

The Fantasy Kind

Black Haze (Ongoing)

A long time ago, a portal to another world was opened, and those who acquired special abilities along with marks began to be called mages. After the incident known as "that day", the first-class mage from Ophion, known as "Blow", has become very famous. One day, he receives a very special mission: to protect the second son of the Artian family, who suffers from being called a "monster" at the magic school "Helios"! Thus, Blow enrolls in Helios under the name "Rood Krisch" to hide his true identity...

My all time favorite. I learned english thanks to it < 3. And it just group so many of my favorite tropes in one story ☆.☆

I’m not that kind of talent (Ongoing)

A talented individual who is respected by many and welcomed anywhere? Not at all! A bloodthirsty battle fanatic who knows no defeat? Couldn’t be further from the truth! In reality, Deon Hardt is a sickly human who coughs up blood from receiving the tiniest bit of stress and gets sunburns from standing in the sun for ten minutes. But due to an unfortunate misunderstanding, he becomes “Demon Arut,” the notorious 0th corps commander of the demon army and the demon king’s joker. Caught in a war between humans and demonkind, Deon must find a way to survive!

I discovered that one this year! I love comediy and tragedy mixed together, and that one fully achieved that, from making me laugh to absolutely destroying my heart seriously i am still hurting. Well this is a tragedy. Be warned. But a delicious one. (My heart TT.TT).

The Ember Knight (Ongoing)

When Nagyunn’s twin brother, Najin, is murdered before his very eyes, he vows to avenge his brother’s death by assuming Najin’s identity. But although the two may look alike, when it comes to fighting, Nagyunn lacks the talent and skill his brother possessed. In order to successfully execute his plot for revenge, Nagyunn resolves to train himself to become the prodigious knight-in-training his brother once was. Will Nagyunn be able to keep his identity a secret before others begin to catch on to his act?

Another one I discovered ’recently’ = last year. I absolutely adore the fact that the mc rely fully on wits and bluff. He will never get a cheat skill to get as strong as others- he just has to play his card rights (which happen to be a bunch of overprotective knights wishing he stopped going in front of the blade path). So he gotta bluff. A lot. Including playing betrayal at every corner, and i sure love betrayal :3. That and it’s a revenge story ~

TAL (Complete)

They walk like ordinary people, they talk like ordinary people but in fact there is nothing ordinary about them since they can materialize an image they have on their mind... They call themselves Chachaoong which also means Shaman and they do not know how or when they came to this world. It is now a time for their current king to choose the future one and so he did by choosing Yu Jin an ordinary human...? Many of the Chachaoong can not tolerate a human ruling them and now the poor Yu Jin not knowing what suddenly hit him, is trying to avoid the Chachaoongs who are trying to kill him!

This has been my second favorite after Black Haze for a long time, because I got a soft spot for escapists xd. All the more escapists with consequences catching them back faster than they can run until they’re cornered ☆.☆ Fight until the end against a fate you are doom to surrender to ~ I love it.

Catharsis (Complete)

Fear is a powerful emotion that can end up overtaking one's life. Leon thought he knew that. But when he's thrown into the demonic realm that Catharsis governs over, he'll learn that there is more to “true” fear than he could ever have imagined... But will he learn how to face it?

That one also stayed in my mind for a long time. The ending is more ’open’ than I would have wished, but well, there is no sequel yet so let’s call that an ending. Appart from that i loved the mc, and he has synesthesis which give really cool result in webtoon format (yay colors). In a world where nightmares take physical shape, the mc get attacked by nightmares and end up being recruited by the agency fighting nightmares bcs they feel smthg off about him.

Crepuscule (Complete)

Lark is different from the rest of the kids. He has red eyes, just like Vampires do, and he is bullied by the other kids for it. One day he meets Setz, a genuine Vampire of a Noble clan who is the only one that doesn't call him a monster or bully him. Eventually they become friends, but when Lark finds out he may have to return to the orphanage, Setz decides he does not want to lose his friend, so he invites him to his home... The world of the Vampires.

Another webtoon i grew up with as a teen. It isn’t my all time fav, but i still quite enjoyed it enough to reread it a few times. Must be the blond mc that reminded me of Rood xd. Or the fact that he is super weak in a world of monsters. Or the reason he has those red eyes. (Such delicious angst amidst the comedy). Are those just a trope I enjoy? XD

Godly Bells (Complete)

Divine Bells - they choose their own masters and they determine the status, prestige, and influence of the countries their masters rule. The presence or lack of these Bells also has great consequence in the lives of each country's royalty. In particular, the personal and political futures of King Hong-Ryeong seem doomed without a Bell, but at equally great peril if he obtains one. But are the Divine Bells simple magical charms, deities of great powers, or something else altogether? And when the owner of three of the eight existing Divine Bells dies, leaving them to choose new owners, where will the resulting turmoil lead?

Another blond mc i grew up with as a teen and reread a few time. And another ’king’ who is ’weak’. It’s in a fantasy world, where divine ’bells’ give each king (and thus each country) power. The mc country hasn’t been chosen by any bells for years, so quite look down upon. Until three bells at least or smthg choose the mc. And then they become people, with their own agenda. The mc didn’t want the attention but well can’t convince the bells to drop him xd. Which is why i loved this story. Once again, can’t escape fate even when you didn’t want it ~

Aegis Orta (Complete)

Val is an ordinary high school student who dedicates his life to God. His peaceful days however have to end when he learns about who he really is..

Very much in the same vibe of Godly Bells and Crepuscule, only I discovered it later and thus have less memories of it (bcs reread it less). It’s another blond character with red eyes that get ’fate’ thrown at its face ~ well. Demon powers. Same.

---

I’m not gonna put Mxtx’s works here (Heaven Official Blessing, Mo Dao Zu Shi, Scum Villain Self Saving System), but they’re great too. If you love comedy and tragedy and don’t mind BL too much. Go for it. I usually don’t enjoy romance that much but it didn’t bother me with those works, bcs it’s presented so naturally into the story rather than harassing us every second. Phantom Paradise is also a BL, although entirely different vibe. It’s what would happen with matriarchat instead of patriarchat but all the toxicity remain - only gender roles are reversed. As for why I enjoyed it so much... I guess I am still somewhat sensitive to fan service ? XD

I also feel like I should mention UnderPrin, even if it didn’t make it all the way to my favs, kind of similar vibe to Catharsis and Aegis Orta. I’ll also mention Makai Ouji: Devils and Realist which is a manga but another blond character in the same vibe of the earlier ones, who refuse his own power XD. And Pandora Hearts because its my favorite manga ever. I even prefer it to Black Haze (but I think someone who liked one would also like the other?).

[solcarow]

.

[caffeinewitchcraft]

You are a Blacksmith

Set in the universe where your destiny is written on your arm

(The Hero and Hope) (Being Villagers) (You are the Demon King)

You are a Blacksmith.

That’s why the dragon’s fire doesn’t burn you.

“Pretty sure dragon fire is hotter than a forge,” your party’s leader pants. Kent is a veteran adventurer of twenty years to your two years and he’s seen his fair share of dragon fire before today. There are curling scars dragging the corner of his mouth down into a permanent scowl that pairs oddly with how high he has his salt-and-pepper eyebrows. He exhales noisily. “I think you’re just a freak, actually.”

“Not nice,” Sella says. The archer is your age with twice your experience. Her leather armor is well-beaten by four years running around with Kent and getting far closer to battle than an archer should. Her red hair is tied with golden thread that matches the golden charms dangling from her necklace. She adds a new one with every successful monster kill. It’s lucky she’s so stealthy or else she’d be jingling with every step. “Mande is an exception, not a freak.”

You’re a party of exceptions. Most adventurers are Villagers or Guards, common destinies that don’t always find a place within a town or village that have so many of each already. There are days you report for a mission, and you’re offered a blacksmith’s job on the spot just because of the mark on your arm.

Kent is a landless Lord. There’s a story there, you know, but it’s not one he’s ever volunteered. You can see his destiny pull at him in the remote reaches of the Kingdom, where no Lord has laid roots and the monsters run roughshod across the barren soil. Nights where you’re too far from civilization find him gazing up into the stars, his fingers curled like claws into the earth. The look on his face then is so hungry that the first time you saw it, you offered him provisions from your own pack. He’d shaken his head wryly, his scarred frown twisting, and walked off into the night by himself, only returning in the morning light.

Sella is a Guardian without anyone to look after. You knew her story before she told it to you, whispering it like a bedtime story before the end of the world. She was part of a traveling theater group. She looked after them, feeding them and retrieving those with wanderlust from their journeys before curtain call. When a monster siege led by a Demon King fell upon the city they were performing in, the Lord called his people into his castle and locked the doors.

The troupe were not his people. But they were Sella’s.

Until they weren’t.

You drag your battle hammer up and over your shoulder. Conveniently, the dragon fire has burned away the wet viscera that had been clinging to it. The metal is dark with soot, but undamaged.

The things you smith can’t be melted by any fire except your own.

The skeletal trees make the scene of this final battle oddly silent. Ash drifts from the sky, carried by a wind too high to feel. You can hear your party sniping at each other behind you and the gentle gurgle of the beast’s body settling comfortably into death.

The red dragon is beautiful. Its scales gleam and sparkle like rubies in the late afternoon sun and its talons shine like obsidian. Each part of the creature could make an average family rich for a month. You consider it from an arm’s reach away. You chew your bottom lip as you think. Your adventures have taken you across the continent from the southern coast you call your home, to the western land of rivers, to the northern desert and then here, to the eastern dry lands. After all your travels, you find yourself still thinking of home often. Crab is a delicacy where you’re from despite being so close to the water. The preparation can be tedious which makes it a dish reserved from significant occasions. Cracking the shell was always your job…

“Oh,” Sella says faintly. She makes an attempt to rise and nearly tips over in the process. If it weren’t for her bow, she’d be on the ground. Her knees shake as she uses a combination of a tree and her bow to pull herself up. “Mande, rest first! In an hour I can help you—”

You bring your hammer down on the jaw of the dragon. The bone shatters after just two blows. It’s best not to think about how beautiful it looked flying overhead or the intelligence in its eyes. You’ve always had a single-minded focus and you rely on that now.

“Leave her to her dismantling,” Kent grumbles. He’s now curled up on the ground is if in his sleeping roll, hands tucked neatly under his chin. It can’t be a comfortable position given his full suit of armor no matter how peaceful his expression. “If she’s got the energy for it, who are we to argue? Just keep the ribs intact. That’s what the client wants.”

Smash!

“It’s our turn to do the dismantling,” Sella says. She glares down at Kent. “Mande already did last week’s gryphon and the hydra. Get up!”

Smash!

“I’m an old man who needs his nap time.”

“You’re an irresponsible leader who needs to do his part.”

Smash!

“Once Mande stops swinging that thing around, I will.”

“She won’t hit you—”

“She hit me last week!”

“And I apologized for that,” you say through gritted teeth. You let your hammer fall by your feet. Your last blow sent tremors through your arms. The dragon’s jaw is like glass compared to its skull. “Sincerely.”

Sella makes a gagging sound when you fall to your knees next to the cracked skull. “Mande, don’t put your hand in there, that’s – oh, that’s so gross.”

“The book I read said it’d be…aha!” Your fingers graze something cool and metallic. You abruptly feel like crying. It’s been seven months. Seven long months of endless missions and danger and being away from home. This entire dragon is priceless, but you’ve forfeited your share for this. You blink rapidly to keep your tears at bay. You aren’t going to cry. Not until you’re sure that you’ve really found it. “Quick, hand me my waterskin.”

Your urgency gets even Kent up and bustling towards the dragon’s corpse. With trembling fingers you accept the water from Stella, pulling out your prize. It’s smaller than you thought, only about the length of your arm or a third the length of the dragon’s skull.

With bated breath, you gently trickle water over the length of it. Your party kneels beside you, watching just as raptly.

“What is it?” Sella breathes.

Kent is wide-eyed as, inch by inch, your treasure reveals itself.

“A dragon’s silver wit,” you say. The silver is mottled by the dragon’s black blood and grey brain matter. “The last ingredient I need for a Hero’s Sword.”

-----.

“You can’t just make a Hero’s Sword,” Kent is still saying a week later. He throws his hands up to the sky. “Heroes make them from air and magic and righteousness. Blacksmiths just repair them!”

You didn’t ask for Sella or Kent to follow you home. In fact, you assumed they wouldn’t. The slaying of the red dragon marked the end of your time in the Adventurer’s Guild. Now you’re ready to return to your position as the southern port’s best blacksmith and you thought they’d be ready to return to the best two adventurers the Capital Guild had.

“I’ve heard legends about it,” Sella says. She’s walking backward. You’ve already warned her that the roads this far away from Capital aren’t as smooth, but she’d scoffed at your concern. Now it’s pure stubbornness to prove you wrong that has her continuing to walk backwards despite nearly tripping twice already. “Excalibur was manmade.”

“The legend of Hero Arthur is manmade,” Kent retorts.

“If you believe that,” you say, “you really don’t need to come home with me.”

Kent blinks. “Well,” he says slowly, “on the off chance it’s not a fairytale, I desperately want to see it.”

“Then shut up and follow Mande,” Sella says. She elbows him and mutters under her breath. “Or else she might not let us stay at her house.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m sure the dragon fetched enough coin for the both of you to get your own rooms at the inn.”

“Sure,” Kent agrees. He grins wickedly and the expression makes him look ten years younger. “But we’re not going to do that, are we Sella?”

“Nope,” Sella chirps. She loops an arm through yours before you can protest and squints at the horizon. “Is that your hometown over there?”

A hazy line of blue and white roofs is barely distinguishable in the fading light of day. Sella has better vision than you. You’re sure she can see the masts of ships in port, the green and yellow flag waving over the chief’s house, maybe even the orchard that creeps right up to the edge of the bluffs.

You can’t wait to see it yourself.

You aren’t sure how long you’ve been smiling, but your face hurts by the time you find your voice. “Yes. Yes, it is.”

----------.

Mom hurls a loaf of bread at your head when you walk through the front door, Kent and Sella in tow.

Kent catches it an inch from your face. “Whoa, whoa!” He waves the bread as if unsure whether he should drop it or throw it back. “It’s your daughter! Mande! Put down the bread basket!”

“Mande and friends,” Sella says cheerfully. She waves at your Mom, Dad, and little brother. “Hello! I’m Sella.”

“I threw it because I know who it is,” your mom says. The grey streaks on either side of her temple are wider. Her round, kind face is pale with anger. “We thought you were dead.”

“We got your letters,” your dad says before you can ask. His hair hasn’t changed; he’s bald. He’s wearing his leather apron from the forge at the table. He takes a bite of soup. “All three of them.”

“Not nearly enough,” Mom snaps. Then, “And they could have been forgeries.”

“Who would forge a blacksmith’s letters home?” you ask in exasperation. Is that why she never replied? “Mom, please.”

“Don’t giveme that when you’ve been dead for seven months,” she says. She stands abruptly. “Three of you? Sit down. I don’t have enough soup, but bread will fill anyone’s stomach.”

“I’m Kent,” Kent blurts out before Sella can push him into a chair. He sits with a thud. “Sella, it’s rude to sit before introducing yourself!”

“Ruder than not knocking or coming for dinner without an invitation?” Sella hisses at him. She turns a charming smile on your little brother. “Sorry to intrude. You must be Axton. A pleasure to meet you.”

Axton doesn’t return her greetings. His eyes are fixed to the package strapped to your back. “Is that…?”

You swallow hard as your family’s eyes turn to you. You carefully pull the cloth-wrapped rod from your back. Your little brother isn’t so little anymore. You can see he’s taller than you as he stands in unison with Dad to clear a spot on the table. His long, thin hands make quick work of the ties.

There’s complete silence as the burlap falls away to reveal gleaming silver.

Axton’s throat bobs. He’s barely eighteen with the soft look of a fawn hovering around the edges of his jaw and cheekbones. Mom and Dad have done a good job feeding him while you’ve been gone. Seven months ago your brother looked like a wraith, all the light taken from him as if it all came from his hero’s sword.

“You’re going to make me a sword,” Axton says at last.

You’ve thought about this moment for seven months. You imagined you would say something like it’s okay now or maybe big sister fixed it. When his hero’s sword was taken from him, you thought about all sorts of things. It took a month for you to set out on this quest rather than one of revenge. It wouldn’t have helped Axton if you’d forged a hundred weapons of war to punish those who’d hurt him. It wouldn’t help Axton to pretend you fixed anything.

So instead you tell the truth.

“It won’t be the same,” you say. “It won’t work the way you want it to. Not right away. You’ll need to train with it and learn it as you would any other weapon. Your instincts won’t help you. But…it won’t break when I’m done. It won’t bend or chip. It won’t melt. It will serve you, Axton, until the exact moment you don’t need it anymore.”

Axton flies around the table to throw his arms around you. It’s amazing you came from the same parents. Where you are short and stocky, he’s really like a deer. His long arms could encircle you twice as he lifts you with a hero’s strength. “Thank you, thank you, thank you—”

And then you’re being hugged all around. Your dad’s strong, Blacksmith arms are crushing you to your brother, your mother’s soft cheek is against your shoulder, and there’s plate mail digging into your spleen while a sharp elbow digs into your spine.

You manage to turn your head just enough to see Kent hugging your from behind and Sella hugging him from behind. It’s her elbow that’s jabbing you.

“This is sweet,” she says. Her voice is a little muffled from how her face is pressed against Kent’s back. “We should hug more.”

“Does this make your brother a Hero?” Kent asks.

“This is a family hug,” you say.

“Duh,” Sella says. “That’s why we joined.”

You really can’t argue with that.

-

(Patreon)

Next week's story: Everyone in LA has two job. You've got a big smile and a talent for seeing ghosts. It's no surprise what your jobs are.

[vrystalius]

Pls pls pls pls make one about Muzan finding reader gone and turns out she was in their kid's room trying ti stop them from crying and the baby just cries even more after seeing Muzan cause he don't spend no time with em so the baby don't recognize him.

Demon king’s heir

Muzan’s own baby doesn’t recognise him as the father.

Here’s pt.2!

Pairing: Muzan x fem!reader

You’ve been tending to your baby on your own since you’ve given birth. Muzan just took some blood samples from your baby and barely ever showed his face around your assigned wing of the infinity castle. You’ve been missing the man you fell in love with. He was so romantic and affectionate with you before your birth. You two been to many dates that range from talking in restaurants to visiting tech museums together. Without his presence around, you couldn’t help but feel incredibly lonely.

Muzan is not even bothering to come by to check on the condition of you or your baby boy. It felt like that man only used you to try making a demon-human hybrid baby. Now that he achieved his goal and got blood samples, does he not want to do anything with you anymore?

You sighed tiredly, rocking your ever crying baby. What’s up with him the last few nights? He keeps crying and crying. He doesn’t want food or attention, or a diaper change. Before you could think about any other reason for his crying, you felt an incredible powerful presence suddenly appearing near you, accompanied by the sound of a biwa string being plucked. Your knees buckled as you felt overwhelmed from the shift of energies. You leaned onto the crib of your boy and held onto your crying baby tightly, anticipating your husband to open the door to the nursery any moment.

Muzan glanced around in your bedroom. The cries of the baby reached his eyes and he scrunched his eyebrows together from that ear piercing sound. How infuriating. He massaged the bridge of his nose and stepped towards the nursery, opening up the door. “My sweet.” His voice sounded sharp as your husband greeted you.

You turned around to him and glared at the man. The baby boy in your arms clung onto your night robes, quieting his cries slightly. He seemed to sense the presence of that man and felt intimidated.

Muzan eyed the bundle of life in your arms and stepped closer to you. “How has my son been?” “Your son has been missing you.” Your voice was laced in venom as you turned away from him, bouncing the fussy baby in your arms. He furrowed his brows and sighed. “Are you upset with me? I am very busy.” He heard your scoff and tightly gripped your shoulder, forcing you to face him. “I want to hold him.” Muzan glanced down at your baby boy, who stared back at him with big eyes. He seemed confused almost. You protectively held your baby closer to your chest. “Why? Do you need more blood samples?” “Just give him to me.” His voice sounded demanding and left no space for arguments. You carefully handed over your baby boy to Muzan, showing him how to hold him properly and how to support his neck. He stared down at the baby in his arms as his eyes seemed to soften a little. He tried tickling his soft tummy a little, but as Muzan tried to touch his son, the baby cried out and started wiggling against his gentle hold.

The whaling cries made your husband tense and tighten his grip on the baby. His aura darkened and he reached out for the face of your precious child. Fearing he’ll do the worst, you quickly wrapped your arms around your baby boy and slipped him out of Muzan’s arms, shushing him quietly. “Shhhh… mommy’s here.. I’m here, it’s okay…” You quietly spoke to your boy as he began calming down slowly. The baby stopped crying and wiggling around, instead gripping onto your clothes and refusing to let go.

Muzan frowned st the sight. Was his son not recognising him? How dare he? Why is that whiny thing not recognising him as his father? He reached out to the baby again, but it just began crying again, hiding his face by nuzzling against your clothes and skin.

You turned away from Muzan, shielding your boy from the sight of him. “You should leave or else he won’t sleep at all tonight. Return to your research. I’ll be fine be fine on my own.” He doesn’t appreciate being commanded around. “I’ll do as I please.” His voice sounded darker and more upset as Muzan stepped closer and looked at his baby over your shoulder. The boy has already calmed and closed his eyes. The baby looked much more peaceful nuzzling against your body like that. “Hm.” He quietly noted how his son preferred your presence over his.

He turned away from you and stepped out of the nursery. The sound of a biwa being strung echoed through the halls of the infinity castle as your husband disappeared again. You glanced down at your baby boy.

“It’s okay, the scary man is gone now.”

💠

I may or may not really really love this man, alongside the other demons. Don’t get me wrong, I fell inlove with almost all the characters in the kny-verse (except a couple characters like the clomes of Upper Four, Emmu, Obanai…), but I just feel magically pulled towards the upper moons, the angry wind hashira, his brother, the sun breather and his brother as well. Thank you so much for requesting, this was so fun!!

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough <3

Take care of yourselves <3

[some-bunniii]

Alastor and Lucifer come to your rescue

・❥ You’ve been kidnapped. Good thing you know two handsome fellas who’d come to your rescue in a heartbeat—or lack thereof.

~ 5k words

x: reader is g/n. no use of y/n. enjoy 🥰

“You better just let me go. It won’t be pretty for any of you if you keep me locked up for much longer!” You called from the suspended prison cell, hanging from the ceiling with a single, thick chain.

The demon thugs below barely blinked, ignoring your words as they continued their game of hellish poker. Empty bottles of liquor were scattered across the floor, their heads spinning with a drunken buzz while they snickered between each other.

“Whoever wins this round gets first tool pick for torturing the prisoner.” The dealer laid out the deck of cards, flicking his gaze to the cage just above their heads.

“Maybe that will finally shut them up. It’s been–what, three hours since we grabbed them, and they’re still yapping.” One of the shark demons sighed as he shuffled his hand.

The iron bars pressed against your fingers, their chill biting your skin as you gripped them. The dank air, thick with the stench of mold and something fouler, clung to your lungs with every breath. They had plucked you from the street just as you stepped out of the bar, saying you owed money to some freak down in the Greed Ring and your stash of cash needed to be coughed up before the night's end.

Except you have no memory of stealing money from anybody! They must have confused you for someone else, and surely whoever is waiting for their mula will find out your kidnappers snagged the wrong passerby. Sure, you were in Hell for a reason, but your behavior since working at the Hazbin Hotel had improved considerably.

You’d have alerted any of your friends at the hotel of your whereabouts if you could, but the thugs had shaken you of any loose change and electronics the moment you arrived at this dusty, empty warehouse. Angel Dust was the fastest texter, but you were sure he was at the studio by now—in every position except the one that would answer your cries for help.

Was three hours enough of an absence for anyone to be worried? Maybe Charlie would find you tardy for this evening’s lesson and panic, or Vaggie would notice your desk was empty much longer than usual.

You knew someone who would notice the moment your presence became suspiciously absent. Actually, you could name two that would–and who’d come to your rescue in the blink of an eye.

One of them was the very King of Hell himself, Lucifer Morningstar. You met him when Charlie gave him a tour of the hotel all those months ago, and you were immediately taken by his humor and perfect looks, awed by his power and history as an angel. You would like to feel that Lucifer felt those same butterflies upon being introduced to you when you dipped your head and batted your lashes at those pretty eyes of his.

“I heard you built this hotel up from dust with a single thought!” you said, your voice trembling with excitement as he drew closer. “I've never met someone with such a skill in architecture.”

“You flatter me,” the angel chuckled, extending an open palm, “but also undermining my powers. I’m so much cooler than that. Let me show you!”

In a burst of red magic, a yellow rubber ducky appeared with a comical pop, and you blinked in surprise at the familiar face staring back. The ducky looked… just like you, and a smile spread across your features at the silly little you, reaching out a finger to brush across its beak. 

“That is pretty cool,” you affirmed with a laugh, meeting his prideful gaze, “I never thought I’d look so cute as a duckling!”

“You do that all on your own. Here, you can have it.” Lucifer held out the duck with a wink, and your eyes widened in delight, and you quickly lifted a hand. “Just a generous gift from your gracious, very impressed King of Hell!”

When your fingers brushed against his, it was like feeling earth’s sunlight on your cheeks again, a warmth that spread up your arm and had your shoulders loosening in relief from unnoticed tension. Taking the toy in your hands with sudden, fresh energy, you turned it for a close inspection. It felt real, rubbery, and smooth against your palm. It definitely sounded real when you squeezed its little body, and it quacked, like a real duck! 

When you lifted your head, he had been dragged off by his daughter to finish touring the halls, and you were left with a pounding heart. 

You brushed a thumb across the little duck, warmth rising in your cheeks from the encounter with the angelic man until your smile faltered as his words echoed in your mind.

Very impressed. Did he… like you? The conversation had been brief but charged, and you hoped to see him again and learn the real Lucifer Morningstar, not just the King of Hell. If Charlie could win him over with that visit to Heaven, that is.

That was your first interaction with him–and not your last, either. He began visiting the hotel quite often, reconnecting with his daughter and lending a hand behind the scenes whenever she desired. Lucifer always made time for you, too. 

Giving you colorfully themed rubber duckies became his little tradition, gifting them with theatrics and compliments that had your cheeks hot every time. Lucifer’s features always glowed when you laughed at his stupid dad jokes and stared in awe at the creations he took the most joy in.

The morning you had been kidnapped, you reached for your phone, clicked on the contact with a rubber ducky icon, and typed a quick message while heading for the lobby.

[You: Going to the bar with some friends next to the sweet shop. Want one for the next time you stop by?]

[King of Ducks: You know I can just snap my fingers and make a dozen, right?]

You were shocked to see Lucifer had answered immediately; that was rare for the reclusive king. He had gotten better at including himself into the hotel and as a normal member of hellish society, and you liked to think that was in part due to your efforts. 

[You: Yes, but their desserts are good. Plus, when was the last time you went out and ate non-magically cooked food?]

[King of Ducks: Yeah… no thanks. I don’t trust anything made by sinners. How about I dig around for my last bag of Eden Apples and whip up an appetizer for dinner tonight? Will you be at the hotel?]

[You: Yes, I will only be out for a few hours. See you then!]

[King of Ducks: Can’t wait. ʚ(•ө•)ɞ]

You weren’t sure how to categorize your relationship with the King of Hell. You were one of the very few people he spoke to and who he enjoyed talking to, yet there had never been a confession or a kiss, just outings and shared time at the hotel that bordered on date nights.

Could Lucifer be at the hotel now, waiting for you to eat caramel apples with him? He’d get worried, but would he be able to navigate the hurdles of modern technology to track her phone to the warehouse? That might be a problem. You sighed, hope diminishing as you watched one demon clean the barrel of his gun.

There was one more, however. A powerful demon that knew almost every corner of the rugged outskirts of Pentagram City, where he practiced his expanding powers on criminals just like the scum that gossiped about their latest murders below you. 

“Alastor, I'm going out to the bar.” You had stood in the doorway to the lobby earlier today, lips curving into a soft smile as you tipped your chin up to meet the crimson gaze of the fluffy-eared and charismatic facility manager. “Just visiting some friends, I won’t be long. Save a spot for me at dinner, okay?”

Alastor’s gaze lingered on you, the sharp edges of his grin softening. “But of course, my dear,” he purred, his voice full of warmth. “Take your time, enjoy your evening. I’ll make sure there’s a spot just for you—waiting, as always.”

Alastor always knew where you were heading, partly because he was technically your boss—since you sat as the concierge and receptionist for the hotel—but also because you felt completely safe wherever your journey would lead if you knew the infamous overlord was watching your back. 

The terror he inflicted on any bystander who heard his name didn’t rub you so terribly, not when they had even deadlier crimes. They were in Hell, yet the demon’s only victims had been those clutching pearls of insatiable greed and power, ones that wished to climb the ladder by slaughtering anyone who opposed their seat of violence. 

Alastor was the one who welcomed you into the hotel in the beginning when he found you scrounging for scraps in the alleyways like some feral cat. He had approached you with interest, and when your eyes set upon the infamous Radio Demon who offered you a warm place to sleep and delicious food to fill your growling stomach, you had almost taken it in a heartbeat.

Then, you remembered who exactly this demon was.

“If you think I will make a deal with you, think again! I’m not that desperate to sell my soul!” You backed into a brick wall with a glare.

“Nonsense, I would never ask such a thing.” He brushed off your words with a dismissive wave of his hand. “All I ask in return for room and board is for you to work. Tell me, are you efficient with modern communication devices?

“Yes, I can operate a phone.” You had held back an odd smile.

“Excellent! That is all I require.” Alastor had taken you by the elbow to lead you toward the large, seemingly abandoned building at the top of a grassy hill. “I disdain all these newfangled gadgets that have taken over our wonderful city. I have no use for it, but alas, it is a staple of our world now, so we must become accustomed to stepping out of our comfort zone.”

You had listened to him chatter about the modern world's problems in comfortable silence. Although strange, his voice was smooth and lively, diverting all of your attention to the eloquent words that easily rolled off his tongue. 

No stranger had ever offered you such kindness, especially in a place like Hell, and you were determined to make the most of it. Alastor did not seem to mind your company, even when he showed subtle resistance to the companionship of the others in the hotel, like Angel Dust, who always tried to wind up the demon with constant references to his provocative career choice.

He even let you catch the fireflies in his strange but breathtaking pocket lagoon hidden in the shadows of his room. They danced across the soaked grass, lighting up in soft, yellow hues that blinked a trail across the darkness, one that you followed eagerly with a glass jar in your grip.

With gentle hands, you entrapped three… four… five lightning bugs into their new glass home, where they lit the darkness between your palms, like clutching gold sparkling in the sunlight.

Alastor watched you with an amused smile as you took joy in such a meaningless endeavor. Catching bugs to light up a jar, what a silly little idea. 

But… what a cute little endeavor. Innocent fun that brought light to the most beautiful aspects of the natural world familiar to his childhood home in the South. One of the few things he missed about the painful, mortal world above. 

When a flickering cloud hovered over the murky pond’s edge, you stood right at the water as it lapped at your feet and leaned as far as you could over the shimmering depths. Outreaching your arms, you reached for the fireflies dancing just out of reach with a quiet grunt.

Right as you clamped the lid shut on a flurry of lights, the dewy, slick grass beneath your feet sent you stumbling into the pond. You dropped the jar and flailed, squeezing your eyes shut to await the cold plunge into the muddy water.

Nothing came, however. Only the feeling of a sturdy force wrapped tightly around your midsection. Your eyelids fluttered open, and you tipped your chin down to find a green, smokey tentacle holding you steadily, with another clutching the fallen jar above the pond’s motionless surface. 

“In the mood for a midnight swim, hm?” Alastor teased, and you twisted your head to face him, surprise written across your features. 

He snapped his fingers, and the tentacles slithered back into the middle of the clearing. Carefully lowering you onto the soil, they dropped the container into your open palms before dissipating into the air.

“You caught me!” You breathed in relief. 

“Of course I did.” Alastor chuckled, tone softening as he looked you over. “I can’t have you slipping away from me too easily; who will try my Cajun sauce when you are not around?”

“I do like your sauce,” you replied with a laugh. “Thank you; I’d rather not be soaking wet trying to care for these little guys.” 

He watched you closely, a hint of amusement lingering in his eyes as you carefully cradled the jar. The way the soft lights danced against your face seemed to draw his gaze, and for a moment, the usual mischief in his expression faded into something more contemplative.

“What will you do with them, if I may ask?” He tilted his head.

“I don’t know.” You shrugged, following the flickering lights between your palms in a trance. “I just think they’re beautiful. Maybe as a bedside night light? Or, we could use it as lanterns for the hallways. Angel Dust would be grateful for a path back to his room during late nights returning from the studio.”

“An interesting idea. I’m always touched by your capacity to care for the wellbeing of others,” he had replied, a genuine warmth underneath the faint static of his honeyed voice.

Your cheeks warmed at the compliment, and you hid a bashful smile by pulling the jar closer to your face. A thought struck you suddenly, and the container lowered in your hands as your brows furrowed. You glimpsed at Alastor’s door behind you, lips tipping downward. 

“Wait, isn't this all apart from your room? Which means when I leave, they’ll just… vanish?”

The Radio Demon watched your falling features in surprise, struck by the fact this was emotionally tolling on you. A pang of… something strange had his chest tightening, a feeling Alastor hadn’t felt since he watched his mother cry over an antique vase that shattered after he had romped with the dog a little too wildly as a boy.

Why would he deny you something so innocent and harmless? He’d find no joy in restricting you from taking the silly little creatures with you. 

He may be a demon, but he wasn’t a monster.

“Usually… yes,” Alastor began, lifting a claw to tap gently on the jar’s lid, “but I see no disadvantage in giving you a little sample of my home.”

The glass fizzled with green energy, the fireflies growing anxious by the strange magic that consumed the jar for only a moment. The jar sizzled out like a dying bulb, and the remaining demonic aura sent tingles through your fingertips.

That smile of yours wrapped him tighter around your finger, and your eyes widened in wondered delight. You met his crimson gaze with a hurried thanks and dashed out of his room to find the perfect spot for your twinkling lantern. Your quick farewell didn’t bother Alastor; he knew you’d be back to collect more, and he’d greet you once more with the usual dapper grin. 

You weren’t sure what your relationship with Alastor was, either: but, you knew he would come to your rescue at a moment’s notice. Except, he would never set foot near any gadget that could ping your location. So… how would he find you? Were you doomed to be swinging from the ceiling forever?

Then, your hands settled upon a tiny object still deep in your pocket. Lifting it to view, your eyes lit with an idea. 

A paper clip, one that you could transform into a makeshift lockpick. It was a good thing you knew how to pick locks. Very well, if you were to brag. Bending the metal with practiced ease, you scooted to the lock that kept you sealed away and quietly slipped the clip’s end into the tiny hole. You strained your ears, listening for the familiar clicks that would lead to your grand escape. 

“You son of a bitch!” One of the demons snarled below, slamming his fist onto the table as he glared at the player across from him, startling you. “I know you cheated!” 

“It’s called being a sore loser,” the other drawled, swirling the liquor in his glass. “It's not my fault you’re this bad at—”

“Excuse me, gentleman.”

Their heads snapped to the open doorway across the floor, your eyes trailing up the finely-tailored red suit until they landed on a pair of fluffy ears and tiny antlers that stuck out from the top of his head.

“Alastor!” You cried happily from above, wiping your brow with relief.

His gaze flicked to your figure dangling above the criminals, who rose slowly with deadly glares at the new arrival. They lowered back onto the men around the table, his grin sharpening as it widened from ear to ear, and his nails tapped against the microphone on his staff.

“I believe you’ve taken someone who does not belong to you,” Alastor continued, boredom lacing his tone, “return them, and I will grant you a less painful death.”

The room was unfathomably silent. The only sound reaching your ears was your own heartbeat thumping against your ribcage as you watched the scene below in breathless anticipation.

“Is that him?” One of the thugs whispered, and another nodded with a set jaw.

“Yes, but he’s outnumbered twenty to one. We can take him.” He pulled an angelic blade from his sheath. “Alert the rest of our men. The Radio Demon won’t last for much longer.” 

His accomplice obliged, and Alastor let them go, thrilled by the added challenge as he took another step forward.

“Well?” He hummed, looking at the men expectantly.

One parted their lips, beginning to speak, until the overhead lights flickered and fizzled out, except for one on the opposite end of the warehouse. Everyone, even Alastor, furrowed their brows in confusion. 

“Behold!” A disembodied voice echoed across the long space, dripping with theatrical flair. You perked at the familiar tone, a smile tugging at your lips. The remaining light in the warehouse intensified, casting an exaggerated, almost divine glow on the figure emerging from the shadows. 

“The Morning Star has arrived!” Lucifer announced with a flourish, eyes shut and arms outstretched as if addressing an adoring crowd. 

Unfortunately, he was faced in the opposite direction of the crowd. Alastor’s smile faltered at the sight of the short king before it sharpened even further, and his claws clenched around his staff.

“And I am here to—! Oh.” Lucifer’s yellow gaze met the wall, and he pivoted on the heels of his boots to face the group across the warehouse, snapping his fingers and vanishing in red smoke.

In an explosion of confetti, the angel popped into existence beside Alastor, and Lucifer’s grin grew in devilish triumph.

“As I was saying.” He cleared his throat to the jaw-dropped onlookers, twirling his apple-tipped cane in his fingers. “I am here to relieve you all of life, forever, since you can’t keep your hands to yourself like decent people.” 

The thugs blinked, glancing between each other. Some looked like they were about to beeline for the exit, while others only bared their teeth in anger.

“Did you follow me here?” Alastor ground out, eye twitching as he twisted his head with a crack to side-eye the king.

“No!” Lucifer replied with a huff. “This is my city, remember. I know my way around these parts just fine.”

“I was here first,” Alastor hissed, adjusting his suit with a hmph. “This is my rescue. Don’t you have some toys to play with back home?” 

“Still up here!” You called from the bars of your cell, peering down at the two bickering men with an eye roll.

They looked up at your crouched figure, then at each other with calculating glares, and finally rested on the mass of criminals before them, more pouring in from the open doors.

“Watch and learn, bellhop.” Lucifer rolled up his sleeves and stepped toward the group of thugs who clutched their angelic weapons with trembling fingers.

He lifted a hand, pointing a finger gun toward the closest demon, whose eyes widened as the King of Hell aligned his sights as he looked down the imaginary barrel of a gun.

With an audible “pew!” A firework shot from Lucifer’s fingertip, slamming into one of the demon's stomachs and skyrocketing him out a window with a shriek. 

The darkening sky lit up in a burst of sparkling colors, and a thunderous boom shook the building. The thugs around the table blinked, glancing at each other warily as the apple-cheeked man clasped his hands and looked at them expectantly.

“Anyone else?” Lucifer smiled with shark-like teeth, brushing the dust from his coat. 

They gulped, lowering their weapons, but the largest demon, a centipede-like man who stood three or four Alastor’s tall, hissed in rage and lifted six silver, gleaming pistols toward the angel, all clutched in its multiple pairs of arms. 

If the angels could be felled by their own steel as they did during their attack on the city only two weeks ago, surely their once-heavenly king could fall from it, too. There was too much money on the line to flee just yet. The demon pulled each trigger simultaneously, and Lucifer quirked a brow.

“Huh, that’s efficient,” he said as bullets flew past his hat, and he ducked quickly to avoid them. 

Alastor threw up a shield of green, the bullets from the rest of the thugs ricocheting off the powerful barrier and zipping across the floor, hitting one of the demons right in the chest with a pained gasp.

“Do not worry your fragile little crown.” The Radio Demon stepped forward, waving off the king without a glance. “I will handle these delinquents.”

“There’s not a chance in Hell I’m letting you have all the fun,” Lucifer replied, and he pulled a long, fiery whip from within his coat. 

The whip crackled with an infernal glow, flames licking the air as it uncoiled. He cracked it against the floor, splitting the concrete and leaving scorch marks across its surface. With a snarl to charge, the thugs surged forward, brandishing their weapons and aiming their guns at the two men’s foreheads without faltering.

In an unspoken competition, your dual saviors readied themselves, green tentacles curling around Alastor protectively as a few snaked forward and throttled a group of demons while another threw one out the already-broken window. His antlers extended, eyes turning to radio dials as his form grew and shifted into a demonic monstrosity, claws extended for the succulent fleshbags before him.

Lucifer lashed out with his whip, the flames searing the air as it wrapped around the largest demon’s pistols, yanking them from its grasp with a force that sent the weapons clattering to the floor. With a flick of his wrist, the whip coiled around the centipede-man’s legs, dragging it down to its knees. 

“Kneel before your king,” Lucifer sneered. He gave the whip a final, violent crack, sending the demon sprawling across the ground, flames licking at its many dismembered appendages.

Lucifer danced across the room, ducking and diving as he karate-chopped a demon, and they exploded into colorful paper mache. Alastor grew twice the size, his antlers lengthening and his eyes shifting into radio dials as he plucked a snarling criminal from the floor and swallowed him whole. 

You did not want to sit around and take a stray bullet to the heart, so you continued picking the lock with hasty fingers. Bullets flew past your cage, but you did not halt the task as you heard the familiar clicks of unlocking mechanisms. 

Realizing their chances were much slimmer than initially thought, some of the men hurried away, teeth chattering in fear, as they left the rest of their friends to be eaten by the hulking red demon and set on fire by balls of flame that engulfed Lucifer’s hands.

The final click had the lock to your cell plummeting to the ground, bonking one thug on the head, and he face-planted onto the concrete with a groan. 

“I did it!” You beamed, chest swelling with a rare ego.

The door swung open, and you poked your head out, watching with a fluttering heart as the two contrasting figures worked in tandem to rescue you.

A tendril curled around the last demon’s leg, dragging him toward the gaping maw of the Radio Demon as he cried out in fear. The sudden force had his finger curling around the trigger, discharging a silver bullet that flew right above your head and shattered the chain that kept you suspended with a piercing shriek of metal.

The cage fell, and you along with it. With a gasp, you helplessly grasped at the bars, squeezing your eyes shut for the impending pain and misery as the floor rushed to meet you.

Six wings spread quickly, and Lucifer sprang forward, arms outstretched to catch your screaming figure midair. The cage around you burst in a plume of red smoke, and you coughed, brushing away the lingering smoke as your heart pounded. Your eyes lifted to meet Lucifer’s soft gaze, the overwhelming relief washing over you like a wave, and you instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck, clinging to his warmth and safety.

“Are you alright?” He asked, scanning your body for any injuries. Heaven only knows what he would have done if you had any.

“Now that you two are here, I've never been better,” you replied with happy tears brimming. 

“Right, that guy is also here.” Lucifer rolled his eyes, glancing at Alastor’s shrinking figure as the demon licked his lips in satisfaction. “I hope you know I could have done everything without him.”

Of course, you did. He was the King of Hell. You shook your head with a smile as he descended smoothly, carefully lowering you onto two feet. Your chest was still heaving from the adrenaline as your gaze fleeted across the broken bodies littered across the ground, stomach churning at the sight.

Alastor strolled forward, taking his turn to examine you. His smile had receded, softening at the edges as he sidled up to you.  

“You know, you handle yourself quite well under pressure without assistance. I knew your skills would come in handy someday. Although, in a few more minutes, I would have been there to free you without fuss.”

“Except I'm the one who caught them. That is a sole save in my books,” Lucifer cut in before you could speak. “All you did was have a late-night snack and ruin my good mood.”

“Preposterous. It was I who took care of most of these nuisances and saved our dear one,” Alastor chuckled dryly, shaking his head. “Without me, you’d have only been floundering against the opposition like a frail duckling in alligator waters.”

“I’m so thankful that you both saved me,” you proclaimed, eyes shining with gratitude as you locked elbows with both men at your sides, “I couldn’t be more grateful for the rescue. Why don’t we get some celebratory drinks from Sinbucks on the way back? A hot cup of black joe and an Earl Grey tea for my handsome saviors.”

“Fine.” Alastor shrugged, not sparing a glance at the man on the other side of you. “But only if this blathering fool pays for it.” 

“Anything for you,” Lucifer agreed, winking your way, “but your friend here better wait outside on the curb. I’m sure they wouldn’t like a rabid animal stinking up the place.”

With a giggle, you pulled them along and left the warehouse, strolling down the trashed streets with a skip in your step. 

You glanced at both of them, pleased and content with just being near you. There was never a dull moment with either of them at your side, or with them together, for that matter, and you wished times like these lasted longer.

Although, you hoped that could happen without being kidnapped next time. 

heyyy guys 😇 im back!! sort of. more like i took a break in writing my novel (roughly 70k words in) to work on an idea i’ve had for awhile but didn’t have the motivation for until now. also, summer overtime at my job and physical therapy have shortened my spare time to do anything… ick.

but now i’m freeeee!! so have this “little” guy for now, and i’ll have more to feed you all soon! now time to crawl back in my hole and write 🥲 goodbye 🤍

taglist 🏷️ (combined characters, 1/2)

@ohnoivefallen @doodlebob2726 @coleisyn @undertale-is-sansational @nehy019 @mixplara @chewbrry @yellowsubiesdance @airwolf92 @lxkeee @jellybellyrulez @catnoirsleftnut @mbruben-stein @froggybich @moonlovers34 @just-trash-yeah-thats-it @wings-of-sapphire @the-tortured-poet @enigmatic-blues @bethleeham @blue122 @cherry-4200 @azullynx @luzzbuzz @for-hearthand-home @helluvapoison @th3-st4r-gur1 @concentratedconcrete @cimadreamer @marsenbie @guacam011y @maxiskindahere @purplerose291 @fictional-character-whore @0willowwisp0 @yourlocalgoldenretrieverboy @wpdarlingpan @halo-balo @chipper-chip @lvstyangel @acrazyartist @midorichoco @ivebeenthearchersstuff @indestructeible @otherthoughtsofbu @anonymousewrites @watchinthestarz @mechanicalmari @luxmessorem @cherry-cola-100

[dewdropdinosaur]

White Gold Glitters Too

ALASTOR x READER SMUT Summary: Lucifer takes too much of a liking to Alastor's wife and he seeks to claim her and prove his dominance. Fucking her for Lucifer to hear sounds like a good option. Warnings: NSFW/18+. MINORS DO NOT ENGAGE. You are responsible for your own media consumption. Oral Sex, Reader has a Vagina, Heavy Sex, C*m, Implied P in V Sex, Jealous Fucking, Mention of Restraints, Tentacles I have never written smut before...so I am sorry. REQUESTS OPEN

Alastor, the infamous Radio Demon from Hazbin Hotel, was known for his charismatic yet enigmatic presence. He ruled over his domain with a devilish grin and a penchant for blood. But beneath his charming facade lay a heart that beat fiercely for one person: his beloved wife, Y/N.

Y/N was the epitome of grace and beauty, with a kindness that melted even the most hardened of souls. She had captured Alastor's heart as soon as they had entered through the doors of the hotel, and he would do anything to keep her by his side. Having been newly wed, Alastor’s possessive nature seemed to rear its head often when it came to his bride. 

However, trouble brewed when Lucifer, the fallen angel and hellish king himself, began to take an seeming interest in Y/N. His smooth words and suave demeanor drew her attention, much to Alastor's dismay. Alastor’s confidence was shaken when Lucifer Morningstar began to show a keen interest in Y/N. Despite her loyalty to Alastor, Lucifer's suave demeanor and irresistible charisma stirred a jealousy deep within Alastor's demonic heart.

It has begun innocently enough, with Lucifer's smooth compliments and flirtatious gestures towards Y/N whenever they crossed paths. Then it turned to a hand atop hers or brushing hair out of her face while she worked on fixing up the hotel. At first, Alastor attempted to suppress his jealousy, masking his feelings with his trademark grin and witty remarks. But as Lucifer's advances towards Y/N became more pronounced, Alastor's facade began to crack.

One fateful evening, as the flames of Hell danced in the distance, Alastor found himself unable to contain his simmering jealousy any longer. He watched from a distance as Lucifer flirted shamelessly with Y/N, his patience wearing thin with each passing moment.

His once cheerful demeanor turned dark as he became increasingly passive-aggressive, making evil eyes at the short king(yes my dears, narrators can make a joke occasionally.) But still, Lucifer persisted in his advances, seemingly unfazed by Alastor's silent warnings. Y/N, momentarily stepping away at Charlie’s call for some assistance, left the two men alone in the lobby. 

“Well, well, if it isn't the charming Lucifer. Quite the show you're putting on tonight”

Lucifer smirked, “Ah, Alastor, always a pleasure to see you. And might I say, your wife looks positively radiant this evening. You picked a good one.”

Alastor forced a smile, a natural habit of his that was wearing on him. “Why, thank you, Lucifer. She does tend to have that effect, doesn't she? Though I must say, your interest in her appearance is unexpected.”

“Oh, Alastor, there's no harm in appreciating beauty when it's right in front of you. And your wife is truly a sight to behold.” Lucifer leaned closer, using his elbow to nudge Alastor in the ribs playfully; unaware of the brewing violence in the red demon before him. Or maybe he did know and elected to ignore it. Lucifer did get terribly bored. 

Alastor spoke firmly through clenched teeth “Indeed, she is. But I must warn you, Lucifer, my patience wears thin when it comes to matters of the heart.”

“Just engaging in some harmless conversation. Does that bother you?

“Of course, how silly of me to assume otherwise.” Both men quipped back and forth so sarcastically it could've been considered the eight deadly sin. 

Returning from aiding the princess, Y/N resumed her place by Alastor’s side and back into the conversation. Unable to contain his jealousy any longer, Alastor put a hand on his wife’s shoulder and looked towards Y/N with a forced smile plastered on his face. "Darling, would you care for a stroll?" he offered, his voice dripping with false sweetness.

Y/N, oblivious to the turmoil raging within her husband, nodded with a smile and waved goodbye to Lucifer. As they walked through the dimly lit corridors of Hell, Alastor's mind seethed with anger and resentment. 

Finally, unable to bear it any longer, Alastor halted abruptly and turned to face Y/N. "Tell me, my dear, what is it about Lucifer that captivates you so?" he demanded, his words laced with bitterness.

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise at the sudden change in Alastor's demeanor. "Alastor, what are you talking about? Lucifer is just being friendly," she protested, confusion etched on her face.

"Friendly? Yes, that's one way to put it. Though, his friendliness seems rather... focused, wouldn't you say?"

Y/N glanced at Alastor, sensing the tension in his voice. She attempted to defuse the situation with a reassuring smile.

Y/N: "Alastor, there's no need to worry. You know where my heart lies."

Alastor's smile tightened, his grip on Y/N's hand becoming just a tad too firm.

Alastor: "Of course, my dear. I'm well aware. But it's amusing, isn't it? How Lucifer seems to find you so... intriguing."

Y/N shot Alastor a puzzled look, sensing the underlying resentment in his words.

"Alastor, you're being awfully aggressive. Is something bothering you?"

Alastor's grin widened, but there was a dangerous glint in his eyes as he turned his gaze back to Lucifer.

Alastor: "Bothering me? Not at all, my dear. Just finding it fascinating how Lucifer can't seem to keep his eyes off you. Quite the dilemma, wouldn't you agree?

Alastor refused to be swayed by her words. With a fierce determination, he pulled Y/N flush to his chest and pushed her back against the wall, his grip possessive and demanding. Peering down into her eyes, his own glowed with a dark green hue. 

"I'll show you who the better man is, my dear," he growled, his crimson eyes blazing with intensity as he slammed his lips to capture hers. Moaning into the kiss, Y/N slowly brought her hands up to find themselves tangled in Alastor’s red locks. 

Trailing his hand up to her waist, Alastor gave it a tight squeeze that made his wife squeak. Chuckling at the reaction, both their lips remained interlocked for what seemed an eternity. Deciding she had enough teasing, Y/N grabbed hold of Alastor’s cane and used its shadows to transport them to their shared bedroom. Taking the hint, Alastor walked their bodies to the king sized bed and laid down on the red silken sheets. Now with back flush against the mattress, Y/N wasted no time in relocking her lips back to her husband's. 

Nimble fingers traced up her waist, tugging softly on the waistband of her shorts before suddenly ripping them off of her body. Exposed to the cool air, Y/N let out a gasp of surprise that was quickly replaced with a lewd moan as Alastor traced a knuckle up her clothed core. 

“Darling, tsk tsk. We haven’t even begun and you are drenching my fingers through these clothes.” Continuing to drag his finger across her pantie-clad slit, Alastor mumbled the words into the base of her neck. 

“Stop–fuck–stop teasing Al.”

“Oh but dear, that’s half the fun.” Despite his words, he obliged her request by removing the offending garment from her body.​​ Working his way down, his face ended between her thighs. His eyes widened at the glittering white gold slick that painted her hole. 

“Gorgeous darling, glittering gorgeous.” Diving in, his tongue lapped up all the juices that spilled from her needy cunt. Sucking softly here and there while delving as deep as his tongue would allow(he would not admit to using magic to make it longer), Y/N let out wanton moans and lewd hisses of pleasure. Gripping the sheets beneath her as her eyes remained shut in ecstasy. To make matters worse, or better depending on who you ask, Alastor inserted his finger into her while continuing to feast. He could see her holding back some of her noises, desperate to control her lust.

"Darling, do not hide from me."

"But normally you don't want people to hear--"

"That does not apply today. Let all of Hell and that filthy king know you are mine."

Stretching her open, he added another finger; scissoring her wide. Y/n’s eyes rolled into the back of her head and her body involuntarily shifted away from the overstimulating assault. Taking his other hand, Alastor placed it on her hip and held her in place. 

“Unless you would like to be restrained, I insist you remain in place.” Perking up at the thought, Y/N gulped. Being restrained by Alastor’s slick tentacles, forcing her legs open so he could do as he pleased; letting him use them to fill every hole piqued her interest. Perhaps for another time. 

The thoughts and stimulation from Alastor’s mouth and his fingers nearly had her cumming, mumbling incoherently for just a bit more to push her over the edge. Smirking, Alastor brought a third finger into her hole, its walls squeezing onto him for dear life. Using his thumb to rub against her clit, the stimulation was bearing nearly too much. 

“Go on Y/N. Tell me….tell me how I can only make you feel this good. That even the King of Hell couldn’t make you cum just from his fingers.”

That’s what did it, Y/N felt the coil in her stomach snap as she cried Alastor’s name. Surely, the whole hotel had heard her by now. Just as Alastor wanted. Cum now coated his fingers and the bedsheets below as her high overtook her senses and she saw stars. 

Drawing his fingers slowly out of her and bringing them to his lips, Alastor sucked on the white gold juices. Both parties covered in a layer of thin sweat, panting heavily and overcome with arousal. Walking his hands forward till both of his arms caged her in on the bed and she could feel his growing bulge against her thighs, Alastor whispered darkly. 

“Now dear, feel like letting Lucifer know how good round two is about to feel?”

[choujinx]

MAWANGKKAJI HAN GEOREUM (2021-?) by yun-hong

[iwillfightformydream]

One step closer to the Demon king

I encourage everyone to give this manga/Manhwa a try, at the start/middle part of the story may be a bit confusing. As the plot progresses, it becomes clearer, although it may take over 100 chapters to fully grasp it due to its complexity.

The artwork is incredible throughout the entire series, and there are so many funny faces shown by multiple characters.

[gamblersdoll]

“options.”

sum. he likes to play games with you, acting like he big dog, but you can play with him too. trueform! sukuna, fighting to smut, fluff at the end, spitting, deep mating press, (somewhat.)

“whats with the face, woman?” the ancient monster only asks because you aren’t entertaining him, you aren’t throwing tantrums about him not giving you attention. “youre quiet.”

“im not going to feed into your bullshit today.” you snark back, your arms limp and fingers padding away at your phone and he quirks an eyebrow up. “im not fucking stupid, ryomen.”

ryomen?

he nodded his head slow, chuckling to lean back and rub his chin. “do you know who yer’ talkin’ to?” he asks, you must have forgotten, had to be. the fuck was your problem? youve always been an obedient pet, sometimes having your days where he can somewhat understand and help you calm your nerves. was it that time again? no, he wouldve smelled it, if not— he wouldve tasted it. “talk.”

“you keep playing with me, always saying how im your favorite mortal,’ yet, you sneak off to other women when youre done with me.” you bring up, but it didnt hurt when you said that. thats what this was about? his harem?

“because i can.” he leans up and closer to you. “because i can do what the fuck i want to, thats what happens when youre a demon— let alone, king.” he reminds, you tend to forget your place when it came to him.

“you do that, then.” you chuckle, you were sick and fucking tired. “but when i find a man who i dont have to worry about ditchin’ me for other women, dont be angry.”

“thats okay, because you wont see another man.” hes starting to get pissed, because youre over-fucking-stepping. how dare you think you can seek out other men? when you had a demon who can give way more than what a mortal man cannot.

why was he even angry about that thought?

“so its okay for you to lie in my face and say im your favorite, but you seek other women? make it make the fuck sense.” because he wasnt making sense. you couldnt put that together, youre his favorite but he ended the night with other people to get him off. was your offerance not enough?

“lie?”he scoffs, grabbing you by your jaw and pulling you close. “no one has deceived you.” he makes his tone deep, eyes staring into yours snd he has a snarl to his lip.

“prove it, you goddamn liar.” you spit in his face, watching his blink slow and hard as he takes a deep breath in. “do something, i fucking dare you.” you growl, watching your fluids drip down his cheek.

he had to be more pissed at the fact you called him a liar than the actual truth, the truth of the matter being he does sleep around, (and excuses it by saying hes the king, so he can) and he hated that you labeled him as such.

his legs slammed against the back of yours, yeah he was furious— his second row of arms holding your hips down and one hand holding your wrists down together. “got really smart with your mouth, brat. thats not good.” he clicks his tongue, his only free hand smacking your cheek. “youve lost your goddamn mind, woman— did you think id let you get away with calling me a deceiver?”

“fuck you.” you moan out, this was pathetic. but who could blame you? imagine having a giant ancient demon drill his cock into you, while you feel the other one growing harder, and having him focus on you.

“think im a liar, mm?” he asks, his face getting closer to yours and he shakes his head in disbelief. “you want me to stop having others serve me the way you do? mm?” he asks so sweet, it shouldn’t be allowed for him to sound this way.. not with him being a dick and drilling his first dick inside. “cmon, little one— answer. say what you want.” you muster up the strength to speak, only for him to knock it down and him to pitifully laugh down to you. “oh, poor baby.. can you not speak? is it too much?” he asks, slowing his hips and slowly pulling away.

“no, its not—“ you try to say, but he spits in your face, and you knew that he was trying to prove a point.

“see how that feels, nasty thing?” he asks, taking his thumb and smearing it against your face. “say what you want, woman.”

“want you to stick with me only—“ you finally get it out, cut off with a moan only for him to coo at you. your hands pat at his chest, or so you thought.. since his belly mouth opens and licks at your palm.

“that what you want, pet? for me to only have you serve me the way you do?” he asked, watching your head nod and he smirks. “and what makes you think you get that privilege?” he wasn’t fucking serious, whats with all these fucking questions?

“because—“ you moan after, how the fuck long was this going to go, man? “because i can take all of you, thats why.” you let him know that, and now hes intrigued.

he laughs a little, licking his canines and grinding his tip deeper. “thats all you had to say, pretty one.” he blurts, his hold on your wrists become different, his hand holding yours. “takin’ it so good, think you can handle another?” you nod, him slowing just a little and pressing the second cock’s tip up to your slit. “you wanna try again?” he makes sure you know what youre saying..

because no mortal woman have ever taken him before..

until he learns the hard, satisfying truth about how you can stretch really well when you’re attracted to someone. the second cock slips in, your teeth grit and a slight stretch can be sometimes uncomfortable. his eyes blow wide, his mouth opening slightly in a gaze. “oh?” he says in a marveled voice. “fuck, hell yeah!” he laughs in a boisterous voice, spitting on your folds for lubrication and thrusting his cocks inside your cunt. “my absolute favorite mortal, for sure. ill eat my own words.” you nod, looking up to the ancient monster that fucks itself into your walls and feel it in your throat. your eyes roll back, him lightly smacking your cheek and forcing you to look up to him. “take all of it, take all of this king cocks.”

—

“you dyin’ on me?” he asks, him leaning back on the bed as you pull your panties up. “no, no, stay the way you are.”

“not dyin’.” you say monotone, pulling them off and feeling his eyes.

“youre still doubting my loyalty to you, are you?” he asks gruff. he scoffs, beckoning his fingers to you. “come.” come you did, literally and sexually only five minutes ago. “why do you doubt?”

“you never said youd stop, but.. should i have a reason to believe you?” you asked, looking up to him and he feels a pang.

why did they way you look at him hurt?

“i did. you just are too naive to see.” he pulls you until him, hearing your yelp and holding you close.

“you didnt though, you never said ‘ill stop whoring myself around,’ or however you want to say it.” you suggest that he calls himself a whore? him? no, he wouldn’t suffice to that.

“the moment you were able to get two of my cocks inside of you, i decided that.” he pointed out what he thought was obvious, but that only occurs in his mind. “and… i suppose when you spat in my face and i didnt decide to eat you.” he sighs, the side of his face staring down at you. “so be proud of that, youre my favorite.”

the feeling of hurt and betrayal leave you, knowing one thing was for sure.

you were his favorite, and he was yours.

[touchyluffy]

“Straw Hat’s Sweetie will make us rich!” The enemy pirates cheered, holding a gun to your forehead. "He'll come for you and we'll get his bounty, too!" Their captain laughed loudly.

You had let your guard down. As you shopped through the most recent island the Sunny had docked, an elderly looking man had fallen next to you and as you went to help him, ropes went around your waist and a blindfold covered your eyes. And that leads you to now, trapped in what looks like a a giant steel dome.

You sighed as the pirates kept singing about how rich they would be. If you could get your arms free, you'd teach them how tough Straw Hat's Sweetie is. It was annoying and laughable that they truly thought Luffy would be captured. The only thing that could hold Luffy down was meat and you didn't see any in your current prison.

The foe pirates and you jumped as a sudden loud bang sounded through the hallways. Followed by a male voice screaming your name, footsteps running quickly.

“Luffy!” You screamed and one of the pirates immediately covered your mouth, but you didn’t care. You felt like you could breathe again.

The one who was supposedly the captain yelled, "Go!" And several pirates exited through the halls to take down the enraged rubber man.

What followed was groans of pain, steel bending inwards in the shape of a human, Luffy's angry screams and yelling of your name. The stomps of his running feet getting closer. Your heart was hammering, he's here, he's here, he's here. A smile breaking out across your face.

Luffy yelled your name again and you heard more commotion as he cannoned his way through enemy pirates. I’m safe. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw your captor's mouth moving, his eyes furrowed in anger, and he must've been threatening your life but none of that mattered anymore. His threats were for nothing. Luffy was here.

Suddenly the foot steps stop and in the next minute the steel door comes flying off the hinges, smoke and dust shrouding the figure who was the cause. Your heart was fluttering.

As the dust cleared, you began to see the smoke was coming off of his body, his veins and skin pink. Gear Second. You wiggled your body, trying to get free of the ropes, trying to get to him. The pirate holding your mouth suddenly hauled you up and wrapped an arm around your waist instead, holding a gun against your forehead.

Luffy's eyes were hidden under the brim of his hat, his fists covered in blood. Sweat was dripping down his body, a muscle in his jaw was jumping. His chest was heaving in rage. His head moved upward to lock eyes with you and you jumped. This was not the Luffy you knew.

“Straw Hat! Don’t move an inch or your sweetie is dead.” He bellowed.

Luffy’s eyes darkened at that. His eyes moving from your face to the gun at your forehead and then he moved so quickly all you could see was a flash of red and smoke barreling towards you and the gun was gone. And the pirate was gone too.

You looked to the side, the enemy that was holding your body was dinted into the steel walls, blood dripping down the side of his face, his eyes rolled back. Your mouth dropped open at the sight. Always amazed by Luffy’s strength. You had always known your captain as the happy go lucky, kind, impatient, dumbass future king of the pirates. His big smiles and infectious laugh always making your day that much brighter. This demon only showed when he his loved ones were in danger, or someone stole his food.

You turned away from your previous captor and were staring into Luffy's soft brown eyes. Struck by how his eyes had shifted from anger to yearning. He’s right in front of you, and you realized the ropes that were around your body had fallen to the ground. He looks over your face, the pads of his thumbs stroking your cheeks, inspecting you. You nod at him.

And then Luffy kisses you, his hands moving from your face, to your shoulders, to your back, to your waist. Searching for injuries. The kiss deepens, his lips moving across yours possessively. This was not your Luffy. Your Luffy was never scared, as if you could disappear at any moment. His hands gripping your waist tightly, painfully. His chest pushed up to yours and you felt his racing heart. This was not your Luffy.

Your hands moved above his own at your waist, grasping them. Intertwining them. I'm okay, I'm here. You whispered through your kisses, softenening your lips. Letting all your love flow through your kiss, hoping he could feel it. The tension in his body slowly start to ease as he realized you were safe in his arms, unharmed. His hands wrapped around your waist and yours went behind his neck. Then the kisses turned into those that you loved - unpredictable, fast, passionate. He broke away, gasping for breath, rested his forehead against yours, his eyes looking down at the ropes at your feet.

“I’ll be right back,” Luffy said to you in a low husky voice and your knees almost gave out.

Luffy walked slowly over to the foe pirate that was struggling to get to his feet. He raised the gun to Luffy's chest and shot a few rounds, the bullets collided with Luffy's skin and burst back out shooting straight back into the pirate who again fell against the indent in the wall. Luffy stretch his arm behind him and sent a Jet Pistol flying right into the pirate's temple.

Then, Luffy turned back to you. A giant smile stretching across his face, an infectious laugh bursting through his lips. He called out to you and then pulled you on his back for a piggyback ride and was off, running back towards the Sunny. You couldn't help but laugh with him, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck so you didn't fall, this is your Luffy.

[trashogram]

He Chose You (Pt. 14)

Lucifer/Reader: Lucifer chooses you to be the mother of his child. Rated E for Explicit.

(A/N: I know Lute wields a sword. I changed it because.)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 13.5 | Part 14 | End

“Take your hands off of her!” Lucifer’s command was 7 layers of demonic, loud and deep enough to make the clouds quiver. 

Still, Adam held fast to you until you managed to free one arm and slam your elbow into his gut.

“Fuck! Bitch!” He dropped you to the ground, sneering down at you briefly. You bared your teeth, pushing yourself up to barrel into the odious First Man, only to stagger at the impact of someone’s boot colliding with your hip.

“No! ” Lucifer roared, metal scraping beneath his growing claws.  

You fell back to the floor with a cry, pain exploding across your left side. Lute bore a hole into you with her gaze, glowing gold as a jungle cat’s while she kept you pinned by the shoulder with her spear.

“Stay down.” She smirked as you struggled to face her from beneath her weight.

“Fuck you!” You spat. 

“Wa-hoh! Mouthy now aren’tcha?” Adam teased, his eyes still locked on Lucifer tearing at the gate. “This really is your bitch, huh? All bark, no respect.” 

Lucifer snarled, smoke trailing from behind his pointed teeth. “Let. Her. Go.” 

“Or what, little man? Look around. You’re in no position to be making threats.” Adam scoffed, drawing closer and closer to the King of Hell. “You think you can tear down this gate designed to keep you out.” 

As if on cue, the mutilated poles and slats of Heaven’s gate began to reform. They straightened like an unbothered water stream over jagged rocks, until they once again gleamed unbent and reinforced. 

Through the haze of pain and mist rolling from the ground, you could just make out the crowd of angels that had been your audience. There was shuffling, latent gasping, and you could see a rainbow of expressions taking in the scene you were a part of. Yet no one was coming to your aid. No one did so much as protest the sudden violence in their midst. 

You slid a hand out from where it’d been trapped beneath your stomach, reaching out to implore someone for help. No one rushed to your aid, though you had caught the express attention of a few. One in particular — an Angel with rotating rings embedded with eyes for a head — looked at you in what you guessed was shock. 

“Please,” You pleaded. “Don’t let them do this.” 

The angel stalled, frozen at being addressed. One of their blue hands rose halfway, as if to take your shaking hand, but the hesitation remained. Lute instantly drove the spear’s end deeper into your skin, making you yelp and startling the angel back several steps. 

Why was everyone in Heaven so useless???

Lucifer cast a fleeting glance at the sea of ethereal beings that he’d once called family. Their horror meant very little to him — but they were so afraid of him that they refused to help you as you were assaulted in the holy land. 

     The fact that Adam was right — that Lucifer would claw at the gate as much as he wanted but not break through — only added to his abject helplessness and despair.

     Lucifer squeezed his eyes shut, trying to think of a solution before your cry set every nerve in his body alight. Until he wrangled the bars of the once damaged gate again, fruitlessly. The blond swerved up, down and sideways to try and see you, his heart lodged in his throat as Adam’s hulking form blocked you from sight. 

“Please. Stop hurting her.” Lucifer begged in his panic. “Please! I just came up here to make sure she was safe!” 

“Well looks like you fucked that up royally.” Adam snarked. “That’s what you’re best at though, isn’t it?” 

He held Lucifer’s gaze, something like genuine hatred hidden behind that thin veneer of grandiose arrogance. 

    It brought back memories long buried beneath the millennia of Lucifer’s self-loathing. Back when the pain of a broken heart was still fresh and waking each day was akin to bleeding out until there was no feeling left in his limbs. 

Eve gave him a last, discerning look. She placed a hand on his cheek and gave him a half-smile, reminiscent of the ones he’d been graced with after his magic tricks. 

“I love you, Lucifer.” She , basking in his soft grin for just a  longer. 

“But…” A shadow passed over her face. “I can’t go with you.” 

“Eve?” Lucifer’s voice was small to his own ears. 

Her lilac eyes crumpled, smile thinning. She stroked her thumb over the red blush permanently painted on his face, forever signifying joyfulness. It contrasted terribly with the way his face fell as Eve moved away from him. 

“I’m so sorry.” She  with a shuddering breath.

Her hand disappeared from his face, leaving him cold and crestfallen. 

She turned her back on him to walk to the other man waiting at Eden’s entrance. 

     Adam smirked, pulling her with him with the gate swinging back. He looked back at Lucifer, smug save for the twinkle behind his eyes that would swell and grow with unbridled resentment. 

“She’s innocent.” Lucifer looked up at the first man, feeling numb. “Whatever you have against me has nothing to do with her.” 

Adam glowered. “Nobody that fucks with you is innocent.” 

—

Emily’s wings sliced through the air as rapidly as a hummingbird’s would. She’d never tasted anxiety like this before, and decided it was the worst flavor imaginable as she raced through the labyrinth of Heaven’s capitol. 

It was a wonder that Sera had not been the first on the scene when Lucifer himself appeared. Not for the first time, the smaller seraphim wished she had a better understanding of the inner workings of Heaven’s bureaucratic system, and if there was some line of work that could keep Sera in the dark about something so monumental happening just outside paradise. 

      She’d never say it out loud, but Emily was getting tired of being told that she’d learn everything in time. 

Bursting through the War Room for the second time in a day, Emily made quick work of scanning the surroundings. The strategy table was dim, unused. It made the seraphim bite her lip as her anxiety spiked. She had already checked the grand council auditorium, the library, the commencement hall — Sera was nowhere to be found. 

Emily wrung her hands together. 

Had she somehow missed the presence of her greatest friend and mentor in the disarray?!

            Please Guide Us With Your Wisdom

                         Answer My Call

                              Father 

                     Help Me Understand 

Emily froze, arily spellbound by the pull of ancient beyond ancient energy pulsing nearby. 

— 

You groaned. The pain in your back was now shooting up your spine, overtaking the sting of Lute’s spear digging into your side. It was starting to freak you out, as the dissonant feelings of true hurt and spine-tingling reacted together and kept you wriggling on the floor. 

     Lute refused to budge, snorting at your desperation. 

“You’re wasting your time.” She stated matter-of-factly. “Filthy sinners like you are the weakest of the weak. Trying to worm your way out of your own fate.”

The heel of her boot rose just to join the spear in crushing your body. Your moan turned into a whimper as she twisted her foot in your back, as if you were a cigarette butt to stomp out. 

“Or is squirming like a pathetic maggot under your betters what turns sluts like you on?” She was in your face, having bent over to taunt you 

The question was so absurd that it stopped you dead, pain taking a backseat to it. Your eyes bulged out as you regarded her in disbelief.

“No.” Your lips turned up in disgust. “But the fact that you brought that up as a possibility is making me wonder if you’re getting turned on right now?” 

Lute clucked her tongue, chiding you. “Typical of your kind, twisting the truth to cloud the mind with unholy thoughts.” 

Your jaw dropped open as you squinted at the Lieutenant. 

“You’re the one that brought it up!” Your legs kicked and scraped against the floor with your sudden burst of energy. “You fuckin’ weirdo!” 

“That’s rich comin’ from you!” Adam hollered. He had the gall to turn away from a shamefaced Lucifer to look down at you with digitized eyes. “The freaky fuck that literally had the Devil’s dick in her mouth all day every day!” 

     Lute snickered as if her superior had  the funniest thing ever. It had you grimacing while saliva pooled in your mouth. 

“Think about that a lot, do you?” You asked, wincing. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were jealous.” 

“Bitch you wish you could get this dick. Every bitch wishes they could get a piece of this.” Adam retorted cockily. “It is a shame though — if you didn’t fuck yourself on his cock and get yourself killed, I might’ve rocked your world.”

Lute hissed as you met his declaration with a peel of laughter, put off as your frame shook. 

“No need.” You tittered. “Eve made it clear that I wouldn’t be missing much.” 

Something in the air seemed to change at that, as Adam’s grin deflated. “What did you fuckin’ say?” 

Laughing burned your lungs, but you did so with as much gusto as you could muster. 

“Yeah.” You . “You know, Eve? Your wife? The one you left so unsatisfied she was tempted by an adorable snake to abandon you? I think I can take her word for it that you’re not the best lay —”

“You shut your whore mouth right fucking now.” Adam was looming over you in a flash, gritting his static teeth at your mocking expression. “Or I’ll —”

“Or you’ll what?” You jeered. “Keep projecting?”

Adam chuckle was far less boisterous than it had been before as he sank down to your level. 

“I don’t think you get it, cuntbag. You’re in my house. And your little devil dildo over there,” Adam gestured vaguely to Lucifer, then to the rest of Heaven before him. “Ain’t got any power up here.” 

Pressure mounted in your trapezius as Adam pulled you up and close by the jaw. You breathed in the irony burn of circuitry as you were forcibly pressed against Adam’s mask. 

“So why don’t you be a good girl and shut the fuck up before you get yourself smited?” 

Adam tilted his head, as if just now hearing himself talk. “Smited? Smit? Smoted? How the fuck do you say that?” 

“It’s a mystery, sir.” You heard Lute somewhere outside of the blood roaring in your ears. 

Your wings ripped through your skin as though it were paper, sprouting up like the trunk of a great oak tree without regard for anything in its path. 

Lute shouted in surprise as she was catapulted away from you and back into the shrieking crowd, rushing to get out of the way of the projectile exterminator. Your wings knocked her clear out, and the sensation was unlike anything you’d ever felt before, but you lept to your feet as soon as she disappeared. 

Adam exclaimed in surprise at the same time you spied the fallen lieutenant’s spear and snatched it up.  

Hefting it up like a baseball bat, you took a swing and slammed it against the side of Adam’s head. He pitched to one side with a curse, one hand coming up to cradle beneath his horns when you smacked him again. Your adrenaline had spiked, giving you enough strength to whack the stupid thing off with a third strike. 

“What the fuck? What the fuck?!” Adam’s voice lost its booming quality as he was revealed. But there was no time to take in just how pathetically unimpressive he appeared beneath all the angelic garb.

      You wasted no time racing toward Lucifer who, to say looked stunned would be an understatement, and clung to the gate. Your graceless crash seemed to snap him out of his trance, and the peculiar feeling of his still dagger-like claws desperately felt for your hands. 

Your name tumbled from his lips, as honeyed and reverent as a devoted follower looking upon God himself. 

“I love you!” The words were out of your mouth, finally. “I love you. I love you. I love you!” 

His gaze was nearly back to normal, but at their most demonic they still shone with awe. Lucifer’s soft inhale would’ve made you weep had he not suddenly looked behind you in horror. 

“Look out!” There was a split second between his scream, his aggressive tugging as if to pull you through the metallic frames, and your glance back to see the edge of an ax headed right for you. 

Your wing missed being cleaved by a fraction of an inch, fingers unlatching from the gate just in time to avoid being chopped off. 

    You and Lucifer pulled back from each other as the bizarre hybrid weapon scraped against the gilded post between you. The force of it resulted in sparks cast off and into the clouds below. 

Adam’s bulk was frightfully close, his human face twisted in an ugly rage. His arms retracted, guitar-ax rising to once again swing down on you as you skidded backward. 

“Fuck the ‘forgive and forget’ bullshit!” The first man sounded crazed. His eyes were blazing as he targeted you with another swipe. “I knew you were gonna mess everything up as soon as you got here, just like the ungrateful whore you are!” 

‘Jesus Christ.’ You might’ve raised an eyebrow if things were less dire. ‘I was half serious about the whole projecting thing. Damn.’

                                 “ADAM!”

The voice from on high thundered, prying you and Adam from your dual to stare at the source. 

Sera descended upon Heaven’s plane, and you noticed minutely that Emily was beside her, fumbling her fingers together as the crowd of her kin parted like the Red Sea to let them through. 

“Enough of this! You will invoke His wrath upon us all if this continues!” Sera thundered. 

      Lute was fighting against some invisible restraint like a fly in a spider’s web at her right, golden eyes screaming as they flit around to take in the scene she was thrown from. 

You and Adam remained at a standstill, both of you panting heavily as the magnitude of what you’d done caught up with you. You yourself could scarcely believe you’d managed to hold your own as well as you did. 

“She… fuck…” Adam sucked in a deep breath. “She brought him here. She fuckin’ brought Evil to our door! And you let her!” 

“I said enough.” Sera responded. “This has gone too far. Cast your weapons to the side.” 

The Seraphim’s eyes cut from Adam to you, gripping Lute’s spear with shaking hands. 

After a long, tense pause, you dropped the spear and kicked it away. Adam remained petulant until Sera moved to stride over and take the ax-guitar. He tossed it away as if anyone else touching the thing was unthinkable. 

The glorious Seraphim kept stalwart and tall, though her out-of-place curls and stormy eyes betrayed that she was put out. It felt wrong to see her that way. 

“Go to Lucifer.” 

You blinked up at her. 

“And bid him goodbye. Forever.” 

You trembled like you’d been doused in ice water, spear falling to the ground. Internally you wanted to scream at the mere prospect of being separated from Lucifer. Again. 

    Never seeing him again was logical. It was the only conclusion to all of this, really. But unlike before, when you could convince herself that missing him was enough, Lucifer was within reach. 

The line of your mouth trembled, eyes growing wet and glassy. The shake of your head when you couldn’t utter the word ‘no’ was pointedly ignored by Sera. She stood like a mountain, waiting for you to obey. 

Your name was called, and you pivoted to see Lucifer. He was smiling softly, it too trembling as he waited outside the gateway where you and Adam had migrated closer to in your fight. 

       Lucifer beckoned you with an outstretched hand, reaching into a viper’s den to bring you close again. Tears pooled from your eyes and trailed down your cheeks as you made your way toward him on shaky legs. 

You paused before walking past the gold and platinum ax that sparkled in the corner of your eye. 

“She can’t do it.” Adam accused behind your back. “She can’t fucking do it! She can spread her legs for the root of all Evil, but she can’t even —”

Was it possible?

To black out for ten seconds?

Fuck if you knew. 

It only became apparent that you’d turned round with Adam’s guitar in both hands after it was far, far too late.

     The ax cut through balmy air, glittering in the omnipresent sunlight before it hit its mark. Golden blood spurt in all directions, splashing over your face, neck and shoulders. Some of it burst into your mouth, gaping as you realized what you’d just done. 

     Adam’s headless body continued to stand upright for several seconds before it collapsed at your feet. 

*

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[caffeinewitchcraft]

The Hero and Hope (5/5)

(Part 1) (Part 2) (part 3) (part 4)

Last Time

The crack under the door lights with a sickly purple. The smell of ozone seeps into the manor. For a moment there is a silence so complete you think you’ve been struck. What was that? Magic? You’ve never seen magic before--

Screams rocket across the field. The Blacksmith’s screams. The Baker’s screams. Marie’s rage-filled howls.

“DEMON KING!”

Your Destiny burns.

---.

You have dreams the closer you get to turning fifteen. Dreams of a kingdom in the sky, a kingdom heard in the roiling clouds and in the cracks of lightning that splinter through them. This kingdom howls and chatters and hungers.

You dream that you are under these clouds. Your necks aches from staring up into them. You’re alone in a field of dead wheat and the stalks whisper prophecies whenever the kingdom above falls silent. Rivers will run with blood, flesh will lay torn across the streets, no child can hide—

In these dreams, you aren’t afraid. There is an answering snarl in your chest for every howl and prophecy you hear.

You won’t have your way. You won’t win.

I’m the Hero.

When the storm sends down a funnel of demon bats (or horned rabbits or screaming goblins or demon wolves), you leap to meet them.

------.

This isn’t a dream.

Your hands slide down from the door. Hera and Josiah are frozen in place, eyes wide and unseeing as the demon king’s presence steals the oxygen from the room. You take a step back. Then another.

All doors and windows are blocked on this level. But this manor has more than one floor.

The fighting resumes outside before Sarah realizes what you’re doing.

“Isla!” She has the strength of a mother when she grabs you this time. Your nearly choke as your collar is pulled taught against your throat by her grip on your sleeve. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“To fight,” you wheeze before you can think better of it.

“Absolutely not.” Sarah attempts to pull you back, but you’re braced against her now. She grabs your sleeve with both hands. “The knights have it handled—”

“Not this—”

“—you’re to stay here.” Sarah’s lip trembles and she squares her jaw to hide it. The younger kids are holding onto her skirts, eyes wide as they stare up at you. “Understood?”

Afraid. She’s so afraid for you, so determined to keep you safe this time. You can see that winter seven years ago like you never have before; when you held the door and lost your hope in heroes, she never once looked away from your narrow back.

You have never been alone.

“Take care,” you say as gently as you can. Then, as she draws breath to speak, you rip yourself from her grasp. Your sleeve tears and Sarah’s eyes fall to your arm.

She gasps. “Isla—”

You shoulder your way through the villagers and thunder upstairs. The grand staircase leads to a hall of doors and you throw open the one at the end indiscriminately. You get the impression of books, leather furniture, a black feather quill, but it all blurs when your eyes fall on the door leading to the balcony.

That will do.

You burst out into unrelenting sunlight. Shouldn’t it be storming? In your dreams, it’s always storming. The garden is a mess of turned earth and splintered party tables. The knights’ armor flash rays of sun and the orcs – great, fleshy beasts with hardly any neck and black-sclera eyes – undulate like mountains below. You can see that some orcs are down, their giant bodies strewn across the ground, but it hardly seems to make a difference.

Not when there’s a Demon King.

You climb up onto the railing to get a better look. He’s half-hidden by the fighting, almost lounging against the treeline. He’s more human than you expected with dark, shaggy hair, and a bored look on his face. Canines the length of your index finger poke over his thin lower lip. Without the fangs, he’d be a traveling merchant, one of the ones who turned up their nose when they realized that the home they were visiting was an orphanage and not that of an affluent family.

As you watch, that sickly purple magic crackles at his fingertips. You follow his gaze to where Ivan and Marie are fighting back-to-back. The Lord is standing defiantly behind them, his horse slain mere yards away. The Lord is staring a challenge at the Demon King.

This is my land. You can see his mouth form the words, but can’t hear him over the clashing of swords and the twanging of Marie’s bow. Did he lose his voice? His exhaustion drags at his face, just visible under his fury. Green power seeps from him and into the ground as he emphasizes his Lord’s claim. You won’t have it.

The Demon King smirks. His hand twitches and purple magic soars into the sky. It arcs over the orcs’ heads, ten feet, fifteen feet, ten feet, five feet—

Ivan catches the bolt on his shield, a cry leaving his lips as the magic splashes around the edges and tears at his skin. You can smell burning flesh and ozone. Ivan falls to one knee and Marie snarls as she blocks an orc’s blow with the curve of her bow. She manages to kick the beast away, but her distraction costs her. This time Lord Brennan has to block the orc swinging a mace down upon their heads. His connection to the land wavers and the Demon King’s smirk widens into a smile.

Something in your chest cracks and you see gold.

Your destiny is like a flame on your shoulder. It drips down your arm and into your hand. Golden light is burning there and with a barely a thought, it takes the form of a spear. You hoist the spear over your shoulder and hurl it with your full strength at the ground between the orcs advancing on Marie, Ivan and Lord Brennan.

The ground shatters. The orcs are thrown back. Marie, already kneeling at Ivan’s side, jerks her gaze up to you. You see her mouth form your name.

The Demon King is as loud as he is in your dreams. “HERO!”

The word alone strikes fear in the orcs. Stupidly, a few look up at you and fail to block the next blows from the knights. One squeals and turns to the forest. You barely notice the knights chase after it.

“Isla?”

“Don’t—”

“Go back inside, his magic is too--!”

The Demon King hisses a spell. It’s fast, not the slow and contemptuous arc of power he’d thrown at the lord. Without thinking, you swipe your arm. It’s still drenched with the golden glow of your power and the air rings when the Demon King’s spell connects. You feel the blow vibrate through your bones. The magic crackles and your own power rises to meet it, filling your view with sun-bright light that washes over everything.

When the light clears, you’re still standing.

“Impossible,” the demon king says.

On instinct, you lift a hand above your head. Something presses against your palm and you grab it, drawing it down in front of you. A sword drenched in a golden haze follows. Hero’s sword. You point it at the demon king in a silent declaration. Your destiny is choking you, but your message is clear.

His lips curl in a snarl. “Attack!”

You leap down from the balcony as the demon king’s army surges. An orc charges you the moment you land, his eyes filled with the demon king’s command. He towers over you, but you’re strong enough to haul a half dozen fence posts on your own. You catch the club he swings at your head and launch him back in the same motion. He falls back a dozen steps and you follow him, slashing at his throat with your sword of light.

You’re on to the next monster before his body hits the ground.

You are new to your power, but you aren’t alone. Knights scream their second wind and fall on the monsters’ backs when their master’s command stupidly makes them turn away. A corner of your mind shrinks at the smell of blood and worse, at the sight of bodies under your feet, at the sound of armor crunching under heavy blows, but your power blocks it out. You move through the battlefield with an overwhelming, single-minded purpose.

Demon King.

“Don’t understand—”

Who is that? Your senses tell you it’s not an enemy. You duck when an orc swings a meaty fist at your head and then blink when someone severs its arm before you can.

“It’s okay, Isla,” someone says. “We’re here.”

“--she’s fourteen—”

“Argue about it later, protect her now.”

“Right.”

The Demon King isn’t relaxed when you see him next. His lips are pulled back so far you can see all his teeth. He’s commanding his monsters to stop you, to kill you, to put their bodies between you and him. One orc is bigger than the rest, a vibrant red instead of fleshy pink. It plants itself squarely in front of its master and raises a mace the length of your body.

Your power won’t let you falter, but your mind balks. Can you catch that? Block it? Those spikes are as long as your arm—

An arrow sprouts from the orc’s throat. It blinks stupidly and the purple haze clears from its eyes. Another arrow finds its mark in said eye and the beast steps back hesitantly as if unsure if its okay or not. The third arrow lets it know it’s not.

“Keep your sword tip up, Isla.”

“You’re training her now?”

“On your left, Marie!”

The Demon King must be cocky because he doesn’t try to run until it’s too late. The orc falls and his eyes widen in surprise to see you still coming for him. You’re close enough to see the color of them now, a red as deep and terrible as what’s drenching your hand.

Purple magic crackles. It’s not a spell – he’s too afraid for that – but the destructive power is unreal. The earth splinters to either side of you, causing your allies to falter for a moment. You deflect the bolt aimed for you and it explodes overhead like fireworks.

“No,” the Demon King breathes. He stumbles back and tries to ward you off with hands drenched in power. “No, I do not fall here! I am King! I am ultimate! I am—”

You throw your sword. You never really learned how to use one and this motion is more natural. For a moment, you see your Hero’s sword like your sharpened stick, sailing into the throat of a horned rabbit. Then you blink and it’s the Demon King with your sword through his meck. Blood bubbles at the corners of his mouth. One of his long-nailed hands comes up to try and grab the hilt. You’ve pierced him through.

The Demon King falls like his orcs. Confused and unsure of his own demise.

You come back to yourself the moment you feel his power die. There’s crashing through the woods as the remaining four orcs turn to flee. Absently, you mark their paths.

If the knights don’t get them, you will.

The details of the battle filter back to you gradually, like the sound returning to a forest after a rockslide. The memories of each blow you dealt tremble up your arms and the smell of one orc’s fetid breath makes you suck in a breath. That of course drags new horrible smells into your lungs and you cough so hard you gag.

A warm hand pats your back. “There, there,” Ivan says. He sounds tired. “The first one is always rough. Vomiting is okay.”

Marie grabs your hand before you can rub your face. “Don’t touch your eyes. Orc blood is corrosive.”

You twist, blinking tears out of your vision. You tremble as the memory of battle becomes fresher and fresher. You croak, “I’m an orphan, you know.”

Ivan looks taken aback. Then understanding washes over his face. “We’re acting like your parents, aren’t we? We were going to ask you after the party.”

The nausea temporarily subsides. “What?”

“She’s in shock,” Marie scolds Ivan. She fishes a clean handkerchief out of her bodice and uses it to dab under your eyes. “We want to adopt you, Isla. If you’ll have us as parents?”

You stare at them. “I—” you clear your throat. “I just meant we don’t actually know when my birthday is. Because I’m an orphan. I might be fifteen after all.’

“Oh.” Ivan opens his mouth. Closes it. “Well, do you be our daughter anyway?”

“More than anything,” you say and then vomit right onto the demon king’s corpse.

---------.

Things are both complicated and not after that.

The questions you thought were coming never get asked. Sarah isn’t upset you hid your Destiny from her and neither are any of the kids. They’re just relieved you’re alive.

Hera buries her face in your stomach before dinner that night. The Bahrs have invited you all to stay over until the last of the orcs are caught. Hera smells like their bath oils when she says, “I held the door, Isla. Nobody got in.”

There’s a lump in your throat as you pet her damp hair. “You did. You were very brave.”

“I helped,” Josiah says. Unlike Hera, he eyes your arm from a distance. Your mark is covered in a fresh cotton shirt, but it’s like he can see it anyway. Finally he collapses into you. “It’s not fair. You’re our Hero. Now you’re going to have be everyone’s.”

You lean down to press a kiss into his hair. “I’m too mean to be everyone’s Hero. I’ll just be yours, okay?”

“Good,” Josiah says. Then, after a long moment. “Though you should be nicer to us now.”

“No,” you say fondly.

The complicated part comes when the Bahrs enter the dining room after Sarah has gotten you all seated.

Ivan’s arm is in a sling, but he smiles widely when he sees the spread Josiah, Annie and Sarah have cooked up. He compliments them on their efforts, thanks them, and takes a seat at the head of the table.

Marie pauses by you before she takes her seat. She lingers by your chair until you turn to look at her. “Isla.”

You swallow. “Marie.”

Is it just you or is Marie as nervous as you are?

“Would you…sit by me?” she asks. Her eyes flick to the seat just to the right of her side of the table. You may not be a noble, but you know what that seat means.

Your voice wavers. You’re suddenly very conscious of the kids looking at you, of the way Sarah’s pressed a hand to her mouth. In surprise? To hide her pleasure? “If—if I can?”

“Yes,” Marie says quickly. “Yes, if you don’t mind, I mean, if you’re able to be drawn away—”

Lord Brennan throws open the dining room doors with an astonishing crash. He isn’t dressed for company and his long sleeping robe is drenched with the water still dripping from his hair. “I am starving. Is there—” He catches sight of the table and his mouth drops open in surprise. “You were all about to have dinner? Without me?”

“You were in a coma, my lord,” Ivan says.

“I was taking a nap,” Lord Brennan corrects. His golden eyes catalogue the way Marie is standing over you, the three empty seats at the end of the table opposite Ivan. Rather than claiming the empty head of the table seat, he strides over to Ivan. “Up, up you get.”

“There’s another seat you can take!” Ivan complains. He guards his plate of food. “I just served myself.”

“Go sit with your wife and daughter,” Lord Brennan commands. He nearly sits on Ivan when the other man stands too slowly. He smiles charmingly at Sarah. “Director. Fancy seeing you here.”

Sarah flushes up to her ears.

“Daughter?” Hera asks.

Your stomach turns over. Oh god. It’s not fair that they asked you – you were too happy to think about it, but the other kids must be devastated—

But Hera doesn’t look sad. She’s staring at you for an answer, her eyes open and accepting.

“Y-yeah,” you say.

“Hell yeah,” Josiah says. “If the Bahrs adopt you that means I can read through their library right?”

Annie looks up at you. “And we can come visit?”

“Of course you all can,” Marie answers. Is her voice a little misty? “You all can stay here as long as you like.”

“Go sit with them,” Hera says. She smiles and pushes at you. “Go on.”

It’s the best meal you’ve ever had.

-----

(Part 1) (Part 2) (part 3) (part 4)

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[callmeagardengnome]

𓆩 bless me 𓆪 - chapter 13

w.c - 2.8k

pairings - demon!ateez ot8 x demon! fem! reader

genre - demon au, hint of royal au, possible yandere themes (?), romance, slow burn

synopsis: as hell's receptionist, you only wished to talk shit and stay out of trouble. yet, you happened to be the one that the two social clans in hell start fighting for.

c.w - dark themes, knives

not proofread!

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masterlist

Time froze as Seonghwa pressed you against the cold wall, his switchblade just under your chin. “How long have you been planning this?” he asked bitterly. “How elaborate is this foolish scheme of yours?”

You squirmed under the blade, wincing. “I don’t kno-”

“You don’t know?” Seonghwa sneered. He dug the blade deeper into your skin, enough to draw a line of blood. “Convenient answer for someone as-”

“-Stop,” Mingi interrupted, his voice hoarse as he tried to rise to his feet once more, gripping the bars for support. “Put the blade down now.”

Seonghwa scoffed, not even sparing him a glance as he kept his eyes on you. “Are you going to be a nuisance the whole time?”

“Yes,” Mingi said. “If you keep hurting her.”

Seonghwa rolled his eyes. “How noble.”

Without warning, he grabbed your arm harshly, dragging you away from the chamber. You tripped, stumbling over your feet as Mingi shouted raspily behind you.

“Where are you taking her?” his voice echoed.

Seonghwa looked back with a cruel smirk. “Out of your reach.”

His grip tightened as he dragged you down the tunnel, away from Mingi’s reassuring presence. Seonghwa pulled you closer to him, his breath against your ear as he leaned in.

“I wonder if he knows how close you are to Yunho.”

Your eyes widened and you tried to push against his grip. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He didn’t answer.

“Hello?” you pressed on.

He only tightened his hold, dragging you faster as his pace quickened. The wind from the speed hit your face until you were shoved into what appeared to be a lavish bedroom. The abrupt stop made you cough as Seonghwa kicked the door shut and threw you into a chair.

You barely had time to process anything before the switchblade was back, its pointed tip now pressing against your forehead.

“Duke, don’t you think this is unnecessary?” you tried to reason with him, your voice trembling slightly.

“Oh, this is completely necessary,” Seonghwa spat, his face inches away from yours. “How could you betray the King like this?”

“What are you talking about?” You let out a frustrated breath. “You knew that I wasn’t on your side.”

“It’s bad enough being a traitor, but helping another one? In the Palace? Are you insane?” he snapped, his voice rising.

“You can’t possibly believe that we’d kill Mingi like that,” you said, irritated.

Seonghwa’s jaw clenched, his breathing becoming uneven. “Do you have any idea what this means for us?”

The blade trailed down to your chin, forcing your head up. “Every day, I watch more and more Eternals turn against the King,” his voice cracked. “Whether it’s Mingi or any other idiotic demon.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but his grip on the blade tightened as he continued. “And I can’t help but think that you’re the cause of all of this.” 

You stared at him. “Did you really think that this would all end well?”

“Yes,” he replied with no hesitation. “Everything ends well. For the Eternals, at least.”

The pause that followed was heavy.

His eyes blinked repeatedly when he realised how close he was to you - and for a moment, something unreadable flashed across his face. Seonghwa backed away suddenly, the blade lowering as he took a step back.

“I didn’t think you were stupid enough to help those.. pests,” Seonghwa said. “What would you even achieve from this? A badge? A trophy? You’re not a saint.”

“Come on,” you sighed wearily. “At this point, I have to beg you to open your eyes. Why are you so blind to the fact that the Halas did nothing wrong?”

“They’ve done many wrong things,” he scoffed.

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? Like what?”

“Stealing land,” he stated.

“No, that was you guys,” you denied.

Seonghwa’s brows furrowed. “They’re aggressive-”

“-They wouldn’t be that way if you guys didn’t attack them every century,” you cut him off.

“They hate us,” he said. “I’m sure they would harm us if they could.”

“Because the Eternals harmed them first.”

Seonghwa blinked. He brought the switchblade back to your chin, though his movements were almost hesitant now. “You think you’re funny?”

“Who told you all these things about the Halas?” you asked.

He paused.

“...The King,” he said hesitantly.

His eyes burned into yours as the silence stretched between the two of you. You would have felt pity for him if he didn’t hold a literal blade to your chin at that moment.

“Why would you believe him?” you asked softly.

“...Because he’s the only one that believes in me,” Seonghwa whispered, so quietly that you almost missed it.

His breathing slowed down as he lowered his knife completely, sitting on the edge of his bed. His shoulders slumped like he was beginning to see cracks in his beliefs.

You stood up, dusting off your cloak. “I’m leaving.”

He didn’t look at you, his brows furrowing as his thoughts spiralled. 

“I hope you open your eyes to see that the Halas aren’t the bad ones here,” you said, moving to leave. “Wake up, Seonghwa. The King is using you.”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖⊹₊ִ ࣪𖤐๋࣭ ⭑⊹₊ 𖥔.

Wooden training swords clashed against each other in the training hall. You stumbled back, wiping the sweat from your face as you tried to hold your stance. Jongho stood infront of you, barely out of breath.

“How-” you gasped. “How the Hell are you so strong?”

A small smile tugged at Jongho’s lips as he watched you drop to the floor, sprawling on your back. The floor beneath you felt cool to your heated skin.

“You’re pretty strong too,” he shrugged. “If only you had more stamina.”

“That’s it,” You waved him off, panting. “I’m done.”

“Come on, one more round,” he clapped his hands together, a grin forming.

“No- I actually can’t,” you said, lifting your head slightly off the ground. 

Jongho crouched beside you, his arms resting on his knees. “I’m sure you can,” he smirked.

“Ask Wooyoung. Or San,” you suggested, still trying to catch his breath. “I’m sure San would be thrilled to spar with you.”

“Maybe,” Jongho replied, chuckling. “But it’s not as fun.”

You exhaled sharply. “I can’t-”

“Just one more round,” he said. “Please?”

You groaned, knowing that he was not taking ‘no’ for an answer. With a cough, you pushed yourself off of the floor. “Fine. But if you ask for another after this, I’m fighting you for real.”

The next round was brutal. Jongho didn’t even bother to go easy on you. You gave it your all, your muscles screaming in protest. By the time it was over, you collapsed to the ground once again.

Jongho sat cross-legged beside you. He looked over at you. “Sorry, I think I went too far,” he admitted, his eyes softening slightly.

“It’s okay,” you muttered between your gasps for air. “Just let me rot here..”

He chuckled, leaning back on his hands as the two of you sat in silence. After a while, you lifted your head to look at him. “You can go back if you want.”

Jongho raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“I mean it,” you insisted. “I’ll be fine.”

Without a word, Jongho stood up and walked away, leaving the room. You closed your eyes, trying to focus on your breathing. But after a few minutes, you heard the door creaking open. You turned your head - and there he was again.

Jongho held up a few apples as he walked towards you.

“I don’t-”

“Just take them,” he cut you off.

You sighed but reached out, taking one. The bite was crisp and refreshing, something you desperately needed after that horrid sparring session. Jongho sat next to you, biting into one of them himself.

The two of you ate in silence. And after all these crazy things happening to you, you finally felt like you had a break.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖⊹₊ִ ࣪𖤐๋࣭ ⭑⊹₊ 𖥔.

Wooyoung rolled around in your bed, a little too comfortable for someone that just barged into your room. 

“I’m so jealous,” he grumbled, tossing his arms behind his head. “Why is your room as big as the barracks we sleep in?” 

You shrugged. “I’m just that good.”

He rolled his eyes, grabbing one of your pillows before throwing it at you. You were about to throw the pillow back when you suddenly heard a knock on the door. Both of you froze, staring at each other. 

“Who is that?” Wooyoung whispered. 

“I don’t know, but you’re not supposed to be here,” you gestured to the bathroom. “Hide.”

Without wasting a second, Wooyoung scurried to the bathroom, quickly shutting the door. You smoothed out your clothes and opened your bedroom door to reveal.. Yunho. 

“Hey..” you greeted confusedly. You peeked out into the hallway, checking if either Hongjoong or Seonghwa were around. “Are you okay? Do you need something?”

“I-“ he began, toying with the sleeves of his blazer. “I need to talk to you about something,” he said, though it sounded more like a question than anything. 

“Yeah, of course,” you said, leaning against the doorframe. 

He blinked. “Uh- I meant inside.”

You paused, your eyebrows shooting up. “Oh.”

Before you could invite him in, Wooyoung’s head popped out from behind the bathroom door. Yunho’s eyes narrowed immediately. 

“I see you have company,” Yunho coughed out. He took a step back. “Forget it, we’ll talk later.”

“Nonono,” Wooyoung said, walking over to the door. “I’m sure whatever you need to say to her, you can say to me as well.”

Yunho looked visibly annoyed. “I don’t think-“

“I think,” Wooyoung interrupted, putting his arm on your shoulder. “It’s perfectly fine for you to talk to her. As long as I’m here.”

Your eyes pleaded for Yunho to just go along with it. Yunho looked at you, then Wooyoung. “Fine,” he muttered.

As the three of you walked into the room, Yunho sighed heavily. “What is he doing here?”

“Well-” you began before pausing, glancing at Wooyoung. “Honestly, I don’t know. He kinda just appeared.”

Wooyoung sat on the chair in the corner of the room, tilting his head. “What’s wrong with two demons hanging out?” he asked, his eyes locked on Yunho.

“Nothing,” Yunho crossed his arms, glaring right back at him. “Except for the fact that you’re hanging out in her bedroom.”

“You-”

“-What do you need, Yunho?” you cut in, hoping that the two of them would stop. You sat on the edge of your bed and watched as Yunho stood stiffly, still fidgeting with his sleeves.

Yunho took a deep breath, pulling a folded piece of paper from his blazer. “Someone slid this under my door,” he said, handing it to you.

You opened it, raising an eyebrow when you saw elegantly written words on it:

‘Tell your girlfriend that I will assist her in reckless endeavours to help the roaches of Hell - under the condition that my actions will not bring harm to the King. If her plans stray beyond this boundary, my assistance will cease immediately, together with my tolerance for her life.

Do not make me regret this decision.’

“Seonghwa…” you breathed out. 

You looked over the note again, re-reading it to check if you were just seeing things. While you did find it questionable that he referred to you as Yunho’s ‘girlfriend’, something else bothered you.

“Wait-” Your head snapped up, narrowing your eyes on Yunho. “Why would he give this to you?”

Yunho swallowed the lump in his throat.

“I.. had a conversation with him two nights ago,” he confessed, his posture uneasy. “Trying to convince him to be more.. open-minded about loyalty.”

You leaned forward, urging him to continue. “And?”

Yunho sighed. “He kept going on about how we had no power, no plan- no way of getting away with this. I thought showing him the chambers would prove we’re smarter than he thinks.”

Your stomach dropped. “Are you serious?” you nearly shouted, standing abruptly. “You’re the reason I almost died.”

“Died?” Wooyoung exclaimed, rising from his chair. He cracked his fingers as he glared at Yunho. “Oh I knew you were shitty-”

“He wouldn’t kill her,” Yunho scoffed. “He’s not brave enough for that.”

“He was brave enough to hold a knife to my neck after realising Mingi was alive,” you shot back.

Yunho bit the inside of his cheek. “To be fair, I didn’t tell him that part.”

You groaned, your hands running through your hair as you slowly sat back down onto your bed. “I need a moment to think about this.”

A silence fell over the three of you before Wooyoung spoke up. “This is when you leave.” 

Yunho hesitated, reaching for the note before you slapped your hand over it. “Leave it here,” you demanded.

He nodded reluctantly, standing and walking to the door. Just before leaving, he glanced back at you - his eyes softening with concern. Then he was gone, the door clicking shut behind you.

You heard a ‘tsk’ as Wooyoung walked towards you. “This is exactly why I don’t trust him,” he muttered, his voice bitter.

You glared at him as he picked up the note, reading it. You saw how his brows furrowed as something strange flashed in his eyes before he set it back down.

“Just saying, if that were me,” he added quietly, pointing to where Yunho just left. “I would never put you in that situation.”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖⊹₊ִ ࣪𖤐๋࣭ ⭑⊹₊ 𖥔.

The quiet rustle of paper cranes filled the room, folding and unfolding in your hands as you sat at Hongjoong’s desk. Seonghwa was nowhere to be seen and Hongjoong was seated across from you, completely focused on the documents infront of him.

As you dropped the crane into the jar - you noticed something.

A ring. On the King’s hands.

There was something disturbingly familiar about it.

The piece of metal on his ring finger caught your attention. Was he married? From what you knew of the Royals, you were sure that he wasn’t. Also, the ring looked weirdly cheap and old. Would the King really wear something as inexpensive as that?

The longer you stared at it, the more your surroundings melted around you - your mind transporting you to a dream-like place. Or a memory.

The feeling of demons pushing past you came back. The sounds haggling grew louder as merchants and shopkeepers yelled for demons to come to their stalls.

Though despite this, a small shop caught your eye. A display of trinkets and jewelry, all made with cheap copper and brass.

Your fingers brushed over a simple copper ring, the metal warm to the touch under the blistering sun. It was small and simple - something that you knew wouldn’t get stolen by other demons.

“I’ll take this one,” you said, placing a few coins on the table. 

As you slipped the ring onto your finger, the world seemed to shift and you found yourself in the office, in the middle of folding a crane. 

You blinked, trying to brush off that memory of yours. It wasn’t that significant, was it?

But as you folded another paper crane, your eyes darted to Hongjoong’s hands again. The ring stirred a strangely intense feeling of deja vu.

“...Where did you get that ring from?” you asked, your mouth moving before you could think.

Hongjoong froze. The slight widening of his eyes betrayed his surprise, though he quickly recovered. He touched the ring briefly, almost unconsciously, as he lowered the file.

He tilted his head, his eyes narrowing on you. “What happened to your chin?”

You instinctively touched the sore cut under your chin, wincing slightly at the reminder of your conversation with Seonghwa. “I fell-”

Before you could finish, a knock was heard. Seonghwa entered, though he paused when he noticed the tension in the room. He walked over to his chair, sitting down slowly. 

Hongjoong’s eyes shifted from you to Seonghwa. Without a word, he rose from his seat and walked over to the Duke.

In one swift motion, Hongjoong snatched the switchblade from Seonghwa’s belt. You held your breath as he turned the blade over in his hands, studying it intently.

Hongjoong walked back to you, his footsteps echoing softly against the carpet. Gently, he held your chin with one hand, tilting it upward so the light shined on the scar. The unexpected softness of his touch sent a jolt through your spine. His eyes darted between the wound and the blade, comparing the line of the cut to the edge of the weapon.

“Hm,” you heard him say as he stepped away. With a flick of his wrist, he tossed the blade back onto Seonghwa’s lap.

Seonghwa managed to catch the weapon, his face filled with worry as his jaw twitched.

Hongjoong returned to his seat, his eyes lingering on Seonghwa for a moment too long before he shifted his attention back to you.

He nodded toward the sheets of square paper scattered on the desk, finally speaking up. “Fold.”

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