#please banish this thing to the pits of hell

[mercwithahellokittybackpack]

i drew this beast last night RIGHT b4 i passedout and went snore mimimimi and i woke up, opened my laptop and saw it. it was Terrible why did i draw this thing i think its cursed or something

[rebornologist]

Hello~ may I request the dirty talk headcanons for Dino, Hibari and Xanxus? Thanks in advance♡

Squalo is a bonus bc I think someone dropped an ask including him in my inbox and I banished it...... alas, might as well bc the rest of the characters overlapped w/ this ask. Thank you for asking me to write the most embarrassing blocks of text in my LIFE

♡ Dirty Talk w/ Dino, Hibari, Squalo, & Xanxus ✧

warnings: nasty. nsf/t. I genuinely get so embarrassed writing these bc nah wtf is this. breeding. swearing. praise. degradation. D/s dynamics. Xanxus is rude as hell.

✧ Dino Cavallone

He’s a sweetheart through and through pleaseeee he is very well-mannered, would never engage in any kind of degradation, only has the sweetest praises, and has an interesting.. thing about cum.

“Nngh.. haahh.. baby please, you’re gonna make me cum if you don’t stop-fuck!” His chest heaves, breathing ragged as he tenses, throwing his head back and squeezing his eyes shut as his orgasm crashes over him. He’s left panting, legs feeling wobbly, and seeing stars in the edges of his vision as he cups your face and leans in for the sweetest kiss.

୨୧ ⁺˳₊

“Tell me how much you want it.. how much you want my cum.. how you want me to put a baby in you, pleasepleaseplease yesyesyes,” he picks up the pace slightly as he chases that high, firmly rutting them into you, deep and unrelenting, as if he was actually trying to achieve what he was babbling about. He buries his face into the crook of your neck, letting out a breathy whine as he scrambles to unwrap your legs from around his waist. His hips stutter as he moves to hook his arms under your legs and push your knees down into a mating press. He wants nothing more in that moment than to ensure that he spills himself as deep in you as he can, because he likes to keep his promises, of course.

✧ Hibari Kyoya

I am biased b/c my favourite take on Hibari (next to acearo Hibari) is the one who’s secretly a service top in disguise. One who shows tough love, but has mellowed out with age and is fairly domestic (though still quite icy) at the end of the day. Taking his affinity for the small, often overlooked, but resourceful creatures, and extending that to what he likes in his partners. Something about being called, “little one”, by him... drools.

He often takes on quite the authoritative tone, and it’s literally the sexiest thing I’m sosorry y’all. Hibari is initially not as talkative, fairly quiet during sex, aside from giving instructions, and some small comments and mostly matter-of-fact statements. He can and will be convinced to include more praise and/or degradation in the bedroom, though it confuses him at first. He doesn’t understand why his partner would want him to purposefully shit talk them, and he was sure that he praises them enough, straightforwardly, when appropriate. It finally clicks when he sees how they absolutely melt for a simple “good pet,” or how they tense and squirm for him when he calls them a “pathetic hole, so desperate to be filled.”

“Patience, dove..” He mumbles, barely above a whisper, as he finishes tying off the last of the restraints. You’re already leaking and dripping down your thighs for him in the build up, the anticipation swimming laps in the pit of your stomach. The way he speaks as if nothing’s happened just makes you ache more.

୨୧ ⁺˳₊

“Do you want it? Hmmpf. Tell me what you want. Use your words,” is closest he will get to cooing at you, when he’s firmly demanding that you explicitly describe just how you want him, encouraging the most obscene words to spill from your trembling lips. A calloused hand grabs you by the jaw, turning your head to face him and look him in the eyes, and you feel your face burning in embarrassment.

✧ Superbia Squalo

Cocky bastard. Has no shame. Ego through the roof. You know this guy talks.

“D’ya like that? Yeah? Yeah, I can tell- fuck, the way you squeeze around me when I do this.. you gonna cum? Gonna make a mess, huh?” He exhales in such a way that it’s almost a chuckle, grinning ear to ear as he watches you squirm under him and reach your peak, not stopping what he’s doing until you’re twitching and tearing up, begging him to stop because you’re too sensitive to bear it anymore.

"Too much? You didn't think it'd be too much when you were rubbing me so desperately through my pants, huh? Open that smart mouth for me, darling." You hate that the only times he uses pet names is to mock you, and you hate that you're too holes-for-brains to do anything but obey when he gets sassy with you.

✧ Xanxus

Not much of a talker, and honestly is usually pretty rude. The only times he really says much is if you specifically ask him to talk dirty to you. If you don’t ask for it ahead of time, he’s very much a guy who speaks just to give instructions, and maybe warn you that he’s gonna bust.. and to prepare yourself for round two.. and three.. and f-

“Shut up, fuck.. lift your ass up.. ngh, finally making yourself useful,” he grumbles as he roughly fills you again, calloused hands gripping your waist roughly, sure to leave bruises tomorrow morning. “A bunny for breeding, is what you are..”

୨୧ ⁺˳₊

“Cum,” he instructs, short nails digging into the plush of your hips as he moves you, dragging you over his cock. “Right fuckin’ now, or else.” And you do. You shake in his hold and your walls spasm around him, because it feels so damn good, and because you know that if you don’t follow his command, he won’t give you another chance to reach your own high.

[infiniteeight8]

Would you consider non-con? Any level. Stephen bottom, please!

I absolutely would! 😀 

And of course this one got long. LOL.

For folks unfamiliar with the type of non-con I write, it can be best described as “he doesn’t want it, but he does enjoy it.” My fic As Much As You Want Me To is an excellent example. The intention is that the reader takes it as hot, not traumatic. That doesn’t mean it won’t trigger folks, though—it’s still non-con. You know your triggers best.

Tony is obviously a bit OOC here as well. I do my best to keep him close, but the premise requires flexibility.

Under the cut for multiple reasons, along with an extra warning just in case folks click through without reading. (It happens!)

-

This is an explicit non-con ficlet. Back out now if that is not your jam!

Stephen has been hanging in the Tktk’tk web for what feels like—and probably has been, but he can’t know for sure because there’s no timepiece within view—hours when he finally hears the door of the isolation room open; he’s facing away from it, so he can’t see who has come in.

“The Tktk’tk has been banished,” Stephen calls out, “but I had a… mishap when attempting to clear the web. Assistance would be appreciated.” Silently, he hopes it’s one of the students, rather than Wong. He’ll never hear the end of it if it’s Wong.

The voice that responds is neither. “What the hell is a Tktk’tk?” Stark asks. A moment later, he moves into Stephen’s field of view, carefully avoiding the strands of the web. He looks both curious and speculative.

Stephen tenses. Stark has been persistent in making his interest in Stephen known since the day they met. He hasn’t been the slightest bit deterred by Stephen’s regular rebuffs. The last thing he wanted was for Stark to find him this vulnerable. “An interdimensional creature with some resemblances to a spider,” he answers, keeping his voice calm and even. “They’re a pest more than anything. We had a minor infestation in the Sanctum. It’s handled now, but they left something of a mess.” He nods to the webs.

“And you can’t get out on your own?” Stark asks. He raises his eyebrows. “Even with all the mojo?”

“The webs do eventually degrade.” Stark waits. The answer is obvious, isn’t it? “They also neutralize magic,” Stephen admits.

“Now that’s interesting,” Stark says. While Stephen watches, he uses some of his nanotech to form a small knife and a small container and takes a sample of the web.

“If you’re done,” Stephen says dryly, “perhaps you could cut me loose.”

Stark gives him a long, considering look as he puts his sample away. “I could. But it seems a shame to let this opportunity go to waste.”

Foreboding settles in the pit of Stephen’s stomach. Stark moves back out of his field of view, behind him. “Opportunity?” Stephen asks despite himself.

Hands settle on his hips and Stark leans in from behind him, lips almost brushing Stephen’s ear when he speaks. “Opportunity,” he confirms, and there’s something smug in his voice. If there was any doubt about what he meant, he pushes the tails of Stephen’s tunic aside. They stay, probably stuck in the webs. 

“Stark. Stop,” Stephen snaps.

“No, I don’t think I will.” 

Fingers hook into the waistband of Stephen’s pants and pull them down. They slide down his legs and pool around his ankles. His underwear soon follows. The air of the isolation room is cool against his skin. If Stark closed the door, the room is absolutely soundproof. Stephen closes his eyes, swallowing convulsively. “You know I don’t want this.”

“So you’ve said,” Stark says, hands sliding over the curve of Stephen’s ass. One presses between his cheeks, fingers brushing over the pucker there. “But I promise, you’ve going to enjoy every minute of it.”

Stephen barks out a harsh laugh. “There’s nothing enjoyable about the kind of damage you’re going to inflict.”

“Who said I was going to do damage?” Stark sounds amused. His hand pulls away and returns a moment later, slick with a generous helping of lubricant.

Stephen bites back a cry of shock and denial when Stark pushes a finger straight into him. “You always carry lube around with you?” he grits out. It doesn’t hurt. Part of him wishes it did.

Stark chuckles. “When I’m expecting to see you? Yes.” As he works one finger in and out of Stephen, massaging the tense muscle, he reaches around and takes hold of Stephen’s cock with the other hand.

“Let go,” Stephen demands automatically, even though he knows Stark won’t.

“Relax,” is all Stark says, stroking Stephen. 

Sparks of pleasure flare along Stephen’s nerves. No matter what Stephen’s mind wants, Stark knows how to touch a man, and Stephen resists the urge to shake his head even as his cock swells and his hole relaxes. Stark slides a second finger into Stephen and then, as his body unwillingly adjusts, a third.

Stephen has to grit his teeth against involuntary moans as Stark’s fingers plunge into him. He’s flushed with heat, his cock dripping, and despite knowing full well that he can’t control the involuntary responses of nerves and erectile tissue, Stephen feels betrayed by his own body. He doesn’t want this, but pleasure is pulsing through him anyway.

Stark withdraws his fingers and Stephen knows what’s coming next. “Please don’t,” he begs.

“You’re going to like this,” Stark murmurs. His hands grip Stephen’s hips and the hot head of his cock presses between the cheeks of Stephen’s ass. 

“No…” Stephen moans, but it doesn’t stop him. Stark finds Stephen’s slick, open hole and pushes inside. Stephen shudders as his body stretches. There’s a slight burn, but no pain as Stark’s cock slides into him. First the head and then inch after inch of the shaft. It feels like it goes on forever, heat and pressure filling Stephen inexorably.

Finally, Stark’s hips press against Stephen’s ass. “Perfect,” Stark groans. He’s only still for a moment before he thrusts, and Stephen cries out helplessly. Stark fucks him vigorously, hips slapping against Stephen’s ass with the strength of his thrusts. 

Stephen knows that the idea that being the receptive partner makes you submissive is bullshit. He knows that being fucked doesn’t change you. But no matter what he knows, he feels changed. Taken. Mastered. Stephen’s body responds to Stark, instead of to himself. His hole lets Stark in with a filthy, eager ease, and ecstasy lights up his nerves. His cock, neglected now, Stark instead gripping his hips for leverage, begs for attention. 

“Fuck, you’re just as good as I hoped,” Stark pants, his breath hot against Stephen’s ear and the curve of his neck. He twists his hips, stirring his cock in Stephen, and Stephen jerks at the intensity of the sensation. “Yeah, you like that,” Stark says smugly.

Stephen sobs, in pleasure or denial, he doesn’t even know anymore. His muscles feel loose, pliable; the web might be the only thing holding him up. Stark’s cock driving into him overwhelms every other sensation, every other thought. Withdrawals leave Stephen aching with emptiness, the stroke of Stark’s cock withdrawing hardly enough to make up for it. Thrusts back in are a shock of possession and pleasure and pressure.

Sweat rolls down Stephen’s body. Stark’s rhythm is starting to grow ragged, but he doesn’t pause, just keeps fucking Stephen. “Gonna come inside you,” Stark tells him, voice low and rough.

Of course he will. Stephen’s ass belongs to Stark now, to use as he pleases. Stephen feels balanced on a knife edge, waiting, waiting, waiting as Stark’s cock fills him again and again. Finally Stark cries out and thrusts in hard, burying himself deep inside Stephen and spilling there, come flooding Stephen’s hole. Stephen falls over that edge, his own orgasm tearing through him, his come spattering the floor, his hole clenching tight around Stark. 

The webs are still holding strong when Stark pulls out. He pulls Stephen’s pants and underwear back up. He cleans semen and lube off the floor, carefully avoiding the webs as he does so. When he’s done, Stephen’s flushed face is the only sign of what he’s done, and that will fade soon enough.

Stephen doesn’t threaten to tell anyone what Stark has done. They both know he won’t.

[th3casscad3]

An Angel In Hell..

A Fallen Angel Emily X Male Reader.

After The Meeting In Heaven, Emilys Questions And Comments Were Getting Out Of Hand. At This Rate Emily Would Tell All Of Hevean About What's Really Happening Between Heaven And Hell. Sera Couldn't Have That. She Wouldn't Have That, So She Did The Only Thing She Thought Would Protect Her. She Banished Emily To Hell.

Warning/Triggers: Banishment, Rejection From Hevean, Hell.

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

Emily Wouldn't Stand For Sera Rejecting Angel Dust Of Being Redeemable. He Had Proven His Worth, That Demons Could Change. Why Would Sera See That. Why Would Sera Allow The Exterminations. It Didnt Make Sense.. Every Time Emily Asked Sera About It, She Would Just Turn It Down And Ignore Her. Over Time This Really Started To Affect Emily. She Became A Problem To Sera. She Became A Dreamer Like Lucifer. She Saw The Good In The Demons And Talked About How Everyone Could Live In Peace, In Harmony. Emily Dreamed Of A World Where Hevean And Hell Could Unite And Be One. As Emily Kept Dreaming, Sera Only Grew More Anxious. Sera Knew That If She Didnt Stop Emily Soon All Of Hevean Would Know Of The Exterminations And Hevean Would Be In Shambles. No. Sera Just Coulnt Have That.. So One Day, Emily Was Banished From Heaven. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- Emily Opened Her Eyes To Find Herself Falling. She Tried To Use Her Wings But They Wouldnt Budge. Eventually She Found Herself In The Very Pits Of Hell. Her Eyes Widen And Her Heart Picked Up Speed. She Caught Herself Before She Fell, Using Her Wings To Help. " No.. no no no no! I Have To Get Back Up There! I Have To Tell- " Emily Was Quickly Cut Off With A Group Of Demons Running To Attack Her. She Screamed And Flew Off Quickly. She Knew She Wasnt Safe Here. With Ever Turn And Look Around All She Saw Was Fire, Blood, And Demons Either Fighting, Doing Drugs Or Being Intimate. The Sounds Of Hell Was Enough To Make Emily Panick. She Just Kept Flying. She Wanted To Believe This Was All Just A Bad Dream, That She Would Wake Up In The Morning And Be In Hevean Again. As She Was Flying She Saw The Fiant Sight Of A Hotel.. The Hazbin Hotel. Yes. She Thought. If She Could Get To Charlie, She Could Probably Speak To Lucifer Too! She Quickly Dashed Over And Knocked On The Door. To Her Surprise, It Wasnt Charlie Who Answered The Door. It Was You. Sera Gave You A Gentle Yet Panicked Smile. "Hello.. May I Come In. Please. Im Looking For Princess Charlie. " Emily Fiddled With Her Fingers And Tucked Her Wings In. You Smiled And Extended Your Hand Out For Her. She Looked You In The Eyes And Took It With A Smile. You Helped Her In And Closed The Door Behind Her. " Charlie Isnt Here At The Moment But She Will Be Soon. Let Me Guess... Fallen Angel? " You Gave Her A Warm Smile, You Could See It In Her Eyes That She Was New And In A State Of Panick. That, And It Was Obvious She Was An Angel. " Yes, But I Know About The Exterminations And I Dont Stand For Them! Which Is Why I Really Need To Talk To Charlie! " Emily Spoke With A Stern Tone. " You Must Be Emily Then, Charlie Speaks Highly Of You. I Admire You. You Stood With Charlie In Front Of A Whole Court! That Was SO BADASS! Ha! I Could Only Imagine How Scary That Must Of Felt, To Stand Up For What You Think Is Right Even When Nobody Else Agrees. Its Tough Shit. " Emily Looks At You With A Touched Expression She Smiles Again And Grabs Your Hand. " I Want All Of You To Be Redeemed, It Isnt Fair. Everybody Makes Mistakes. Some.. Bigger Than Others But Still! Everyone Deserves A Second Chance! And.. I Just Know They Are Keeping Something From Me.. They Banished Me For Dreaming About Untiy And Peace. For Wanting Something Greater Than Just Fighting.. But Why.. " Emily Kept Her Hand In Yours, It Was Comforting To Say The Least. You Simply Smiled. You Could Understand That Emily Was Going Through A Lot Right Now And Based On Charlie's Lessons You Know That Its Better To Be There As Comfort. So You Did. You And Emily Talked For Hours, Going Back And Forth About Hevean And Hell. You Discussed What You Thought Was Considered Good And Evil. You Talked About How Much You Hated The Exterminations Too! You Both Discovered That You Shared A Lot In Common. You Felt Yourself Wanting To Be There For Emily All The Time. She Was A Angel That Knew Very Little On Hell And You Vowed To Protect Her At All Cost. You Both Talked Until You Fell Asleep On The Couch, Hand In Hand.

[proxylynn]

[I found my kryptonite. I'm so used to doing simi-realistic style drawings that cartoony stuff is please break my fingers hard. So when it came to designing a Sona/OC for this show's universe, I tried to mimic the more detailed look of the higher-ups in Hell's hierarchy. Which helps because this Lynsie is what I'd refer to as a primordial beast. Let me break the lore down so this makes some sense.]

We all know how the "in the beginning" part of life goes, at least the basic version we see in modern bibles. But there's more to it than God made light, then dark, then world, and then man. God made many things in the span of six days (took a break on day 7 like a boss).

On the sixth day of creation, before man was made, God made the first beasts which each ruled over a part of the Earth. The first among them was the Leviathan, a primordial creature that swam within the oceans of chaos and was tamed by God to then roam within the depths of the Earth's waters, lording over the creatures of the sea. The second was the Behemoth, who lorded over the earth and its creatures and the third was the Ziz, who lorded over the skies and its creatures. These beasts were created as representations of the Earth's majesty and to express the dominant power of nature over man and are the only three beasts that Adam and Eve have no lordship over.

Yet Lynsie predates the three. An all powerful dragon that lorded over land, sky, and sea. Realizing this was way too OP, God cast the great dragon to the depths that would be Hell. God then made the three as one beast lording over all was a tad silly for a starter project, splitting the attributes up into three made way more sense.

However, after the War in Heaven, the very fundamental nature of creation itself shifted dramatically and among these disturbances was the animal kingdom turning against one another for the sake of survival as well against their former masters that being Adam and Eve. This also affected the three primordial beasts; Behemoth, Ziz, and the Leviathan itself. The effect caused them to turn against one another thereby spurning the three layers of what makes up the Earth as well as those that dwell within them into chaos. As a result, God was forced to separate these three mighty beasts lest they caused untold natural destruction upon the planet and its inhabitants.

It likely didn't help that during this great war, Lucifer had located the banished dragon and recruited it, setting it free to join the rebellion. The Great Red Dragon, lashed out for being abandoned by its maker right as its life began, and with a swipe of its massive tail it knocked "a third of the sun… a third of the moon, and a third of the stars" out of the sky and flung them to the earth. These were angels of varying types (Lucifer as God's favorite being the Sun) and the dragon saw this as only fair, if it could be made and thrown away, then the lord should know pain on a similar degree by taking the favored children made to live in Heaven with God.

When the war was over, many were now cast down into the pit of the dammed, the beasts included. With Lucifer now in power over the fallen, mostly because he still possessed very strong angelic power which holds sway over the now demonic power of his contemporaries, he used the dragon to sway the beasts to help in reforming their eternal prison into a world of their own. Hell's geography is divided into the Seven Rings. Each ring possesses its own unique atmosphere, such as the Pride Ring possessing a permanently red sky, and the Lust Ring which has a blue sky. For their aid, the beasts were granted new roles and lordships as the hierarchy of Hell was being established. It's a crude form of hierarchy defined by power, with Lucifer being King of all Hell. Behemoth and Ziz sought nothing more than humble existences, choosing to take lord titles but no grand duties while remaining in eternal servitude. Leviathan, for its envious nature, took up what it's siblings passed down, becoming not just a lord but a Prince as the Deadly Sin of Envy, giving it rein over the abyssal sea of the Ring of Envy. The dragon for its part, took lordship and sought a governing seat at Lucifer's side, which was granted in the form of the dragon being used to keep all of Hell in line when the chaotic stability of power is being threatened.

The levels of this hierarchy are broken up from top-to-bottom as follows:

Lucifer Morningstar - The King of Hell

The Seven Deadly Sins - Lucifer/Pride, Satan/Wrath, Beelzebub/Gluttony, Mammon/Greed, Asmodeus/Lust, Leviathan/Envy, and Belphegor/Sloth

The Ars Goetia - Prince Stolas and other demons with royal status

Overlords - Demons/Sinners who wield considerable power/influence in the Pride Ring

Sinners - The damned souls of deceased humans

Hellborns - Succubi, Incubi, Baphomets, Possessors, Loan Sharks, hybrids, and other unknown demon classes of Hell

Imps and Hellhounds - The bottom of Hell's society

In time, Lucifer would take a wife in the form of Lilith, the first human woman who left Adam because he was an utter douchebag and wouldn't treat her as an equal despite the pair being made at the same time by the same earth. The King and Queen would go on to bare a daughter, Charlie. With Lucifer often busy with Kingly duties (such as dealing with the forces of Heaven and Adam's Exorcists) and Lilith working in being a mother while also preform her concerts, Charlie came to know the dragon as her great auntie as the beast helped the royals in parenting. As Charlie aged, the dragon saw how the Princess was strong yet naive to the dangers around her and proposed an idea to her parents. This resulted in Lucifer creating the goat-dragons Razzle and Dazzle to be his daughter's body gaurds, modeling them to resemble the dragon when in her demonic form but also being plush-like in adorablity. In this light, the dragon sees them as her kids, instilling loyalty to the Morningstar family into them and teaching them how to protect the girl...though the pair seem to take after their creator as they are goofy mischievous pranksters with a flare for music.

In the current timeline, while Lucifer deals with Charlie and her sinner rehabilitation hotel during an approaching sinner extermination event, the great dragon is tasked with managing the order of the Seven Rings which is being slightly destabilized by a failed assassination attempt on the Ars Goetia Prince Stolas and the long time secret that wasn't really a secret to anyone of Asmodeus (the embodiment of Lust) being in a wholesome loving relationship with an Imp coming to public light which has sparked outcry within the more traditional/asshole noble houses in the rings. And then there's Mammon, which is a constant headache for her to deal with no matter what as his greed has him tapping into resources in all rings which throws whole economic systems out of whack.

[phightinghottakes]

Hey y'all! Calm the hell down <3

•○•

I would like to state that I never said ANYONE was in the wrong here. I did say that I personally do not have any wishes to kiss a robot but I never said you'll be banished to the pits of hell.

I feek like some of this people read all of my attempts to be kind as being demeaning, I suppose? That's how some of you are acting. If I read what I wrote correctly, I put a whole bunch of 'PERSONALLY' and 'In my opinion', and I definitely said that it wasn't the worst thing ever. I stated over and over that I wasn't arguing or trying to be rude, but people have a habit of needing to make themselves feel better after they realize not all people agree with them.

All that I said is that people aren't being sensitive when they say that it is odd to be into Boograft. It IS odd, to be attracted to a non-sentient being. However, I am not your god, so I will not tell you that you are a bad person for being attracted to a robot or thinking that other adults would/should be.

No one is in the wrong, as I have stated on multiple occasions. Even if you don't like alp of the things I initially said, my last statenent still stands: respect the creators. I have no rock-hard proof that Soda is uncomfortable with this, but it has been implied. If none of the creators care, do whatever the hell you want. If they dislike it, then please just keep your personal romantic opinions on and ships with Biograft to yourself, or at least more private.

This isn't a matter of being right or wrong, for the hundredth time. All I'm saying is that if people are uncomfortable with what you're saying, then maybe be a bit considerate.

I'm sorry for starting an arguement. I thought we were all mature enough to handle a bit of a news flash that people have reasons for being uncomfortable with things.

-- Just another person: 🌒 <3

.

[toastess-with-the-mostess]

Let's Rewind! Toast Watches Voltron: Defender of The Universe (1984)

Season 1, Episode 39: The Captive Comet Season 1, Episode 40: The Little Prince

Episode 39: The Captive Comet OH BOY IS THIS THE EPISODE I THINK IT IS, THIS IS GONNA BE FUN

Opening with Haggar dishing out some lore, yes please universe started with a big bang and that apparently created a comet that acted like a black hole that at some point Voltron banished to a far corner of the universe inch resting

this was a fairy tale for drule children? i wonder how that story would've gone

ROMELLE WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN IVE MISSED YOU SO MUCH

"take it easy zarkon, eaaaasy" Haggar smokes weed for sure

she sacrificed a star fleet to be able to control the comet, another thing that feels so similar to a plot point in vf

did they just pull Romelle out of her cell just to let her freak out about the omega comet heading to arus 😭 what a petty move lotor

smart cookie, she found a way to contact the team before getting found out

"human on arus" so is arus like a colony of earths that slowly became its own governing body? Inch resting, they will still be aliens to me though

how does Coran know about the secret plan that happened before voltron split into lions if he only found out voltron after it was split into 5?? I'm gonna make this lore make sense by the end of the episode I swear

early voltron formation, shits about to get real

oh man they already got to the comet? also why did Allura look so young in that scene?

Keith: maybe your right Lance: I know im right! get his ass lance

the secret plan is to go 4 sector power setting?? oh this is so a trap YEAH ITS A TRAP THEY'RE GETTING SUCKED INTO THE COMET AND LOTOR USED ROMELLE TO GET VOLTRON TO DO IT WHAT THAT WAS SUCH A GOOD PLAN

oh man voltron is trapped trapped for realises this time, he can't even get out of the comet's gravity

ofc they contacted the alliance for help, and they'd rather let Voltron die instead of giving any help "ill see what i can do" literally i want the alliance broken

PRINCE BANDOR COMING IN TO HELP THE TEAM LETS GOO again i need to make this lore make sense and by the end of this show i fucking will

YES I WAS RIGHT THEY'RE DEAD THE TEAM ACTUALLY DIED OH MY GOD YESS THIS IS SUCH A GOOD EPISODE

and now an entire fleet of doom (lol) is heading towards Arus IS THAT THE END OF THE EPISODE HOLY SHIT

/episode end

Episode 40: The Little Prince TWO PART EPISODE LETS GO

recaap time since this was a weekly premiering show

literally starting off with an invasion of Arus now that Voltron is gone, this is wild especially because it's not even the season finale

"Coran made the situation worse by calling Prince Bandor for help" I HATE THE GARRISON I HATE THE GARRISON I HATE THE GARRISON BARK BITE SNARL

"little fella" bandor you're only taller than pidge by a head shut up LMAO

Coran actually doing work for once and helping out, he's becoming a dependable person slowly but surely

Lotor is yelling about this next robeast being the most powerful there is,, my guy you say this every time just pick one of them to back and stick with it

"sorry we shouldve helped you when you asked earlier but now we're fucked and we genuinely can't do anything now <3" FUCK THE GARRISON I HATE THE GARRISON RAAA

GOD IS THAT YOU?? WHAT IS THIS

THEY'RE LITERALLY MEETING GOD AND SHE'S GIVING THEM A CHOICE, GO TO HEAVEN OR KEEP LIVING AND GO TO HELL WHEN THEY REALLY DIE

what heroes, they chose to end up going to hell if it meant being able to save the universe IMMEDIATELY NOTING THIS DOWN FOR FUTURE ANGST EVEN THOUGH I ALREADY KNEW ABOUT IT

VOLTRON LITERALLY HAS THE POWER OF GOD AND ANIME ON THEIR SIDE LMAOO

back to romelle and now she's chained up, what did they do to you bestie

ITS BANDOR COMING FOR HIS SISTER HE'S SO REAL FOR THAT

there he is! voltron to save the day and destroy that robeast with blazing sword!

i'm sorry couldn't follow lotor to planet doom? what bullshit

IS GOD TALKING TO ROMELLE? OH MY GOD, SHE GOT SHOT INTO THE PIT OF SKULLS NOT PUSHED

THIS IS A THREE PARTER HELLO???

/episode end

[moltensmusings]

About to ramble for a bit about a different series I read a bit, fell off of, and recently fell back into:

Now from the title I know people are going to be giving it a sideways glance, far. I will warn that in the second chapter someone attempts to sa the female lead, nothing happens, and nothing like it happens again. But I do want the warning there in case someone is surprised by it.

But also it's so insanely good I need to talk about it. Long ramble under the cut:

So the story follows Reinhardt Lincke only child of a Marquess who loved her unconditionally. She's in a marriage of convince to her loathsome husband, the crown prince, who she'd been engaged to since they were kids.

However following him making decisions to please his mistress that cause a rebellion, he disobeys the order from his father the king to go and quell the people. Instead commanding Reinhardt's father in his place, her father going with the agreement that once things finish, the prince will ask for a divorce. Her father dies in the war and while sobbing over her fathera casket the prince asks for the divorce he promised.

For 15 years the female lead agonizes over the loss of her father and her anger at her ex-husband, vowing that if time were to rewind she would get revenge. So when time resets to the moment she heard the request for the divorce, while the prince tries to negotiate what she'll get, she simply does what anyone would do:

When asking for that doesn't work she takes the next best course of action:

Obviously she gets imprisoned and eventually banished to her mother's old territories after having her father's stripped from her. Something done with orders from the king because he's aware of what mess his son has brought.

To the north she goes where she meets with a much younger, much more unintimidating, future knight of her husband who was known as a mad dog. Limited on staff she decides to help him shape up into a more useful tool for her and her revenge. She's not a warrior herself, but she'll use every other warrior she can.

Now to note: the male lead is 16 when they meet, the female lead is 24. There's a lot of mugginess when it comes to romance. It's messy, questionable. And I'm about to get into spoilers but if you go into this, know no one in this comic is a good person. I do beg you to read it though because it's so very very good. You can read it officially on tappytoon.

More art:

So first, the female lead actively avoids a romantic relationship with him, most of their time is spent apart when he gets separated and sent to war for 3 years after a handful of months knowing her. But the male lead has an obsession with earning her love. He'll do anything for her and she needs that type of person following the death of one of the only people she had left.

The manga is dark. The romance isn't sweet or cute, the female lead only agrees to a romance because she feels like she messed up the male lead so badly that she owes it to him to give him love at first so that someone could love him. He doesn't tell her that, in fact he's fine how he is and simply is happy to exist the way he does, but she believes she's the reason he ended up how he did. The male lead views her like his goddess and he's willing to dive into the pits of hell and be utterly depraved, hurting himself if it means she would even deign to think of loving him.

She wants the head of her enemy, and he is willing to bring it to her.

And never once are we given a moment to want her to have mercy on the prince, but it also doesn't feel like it's forced. We feel sympathy for the Mistress, even if she's a terrible person we understand she's a victim who hurts others.

Now for current spoilers:

It's also revealed the male lead has gone back in time, he has memories of being used and abused by the Mistress of the prince who becomes his second wife. He loathes her and wants her dead so his interests align with the female lead. He even still manipulates her and pledges his loyalty to the royal family just to win back the body of fl's father.

He brings her the body of her ex-husband after he dies and goads her into mutilating the body because he came to love her after finding out how much brutality she could have in her.

And then immediately following this she sleeps with him for the first time while still covered in the blood of her ex-husband.

This series is dark, twisted. Everyone in it is some brand of horrible and we know that. But it never pretends it's anything different. From chapter 1, you are aware the female lead is willing to destroy.

[unconsiousppldontwanttea]

gospel with lyrics

this song:

lyrics under the cut

My dear savior, I am sorry for what you’re witnessing now but I promise that tonight this hellish man will take his final bow so hide the angels, hide your son, avert your eyes as i put out his vile soul’s fire all because the he wouldn’t join our holy choir … His twisted tainted heart has been misguided and destroyed as well so I’ll send him back up to you and send his girlfriend back to hell! I promise you, it’s for the best, what I’m going to do to them their life was short and sad but I hope he will find a better end … How dare you interrupt my prayer! … God you’re so disrespectful, I can’t believe that I ever thought that you could join, you pushed me too hard tonight! … Broken, horrid, wretched, sad, disgusting, vile, feeble, and mad, each word you say reminds me of things that describe ya! … Insult me all you want but if you bring our lord into this battle, I’ll tear you apart and use your bones as prizes for a raffle! … I swear to you, this ain’t a joke- … If you won’t budge then I’ll have to move you myself! … If you keep rejecting us I’ll have to send you down to hell! … Why won’t you listen to me? You’d be better off- … Then if you stayed with this girl doing who-knows-what! … Lord in heaven, Jesus Christ, the father, son, and holy spirit, won’t let you into paradise because of all your corny bullshit! Damn, I haven’t been this riled up since He kicked me out of heaven- You horrid little beast! You just add and add to rising tension- … Harmonizing, singing, angels, demons, all to banish you to darkest pits of my domain, I hope the world’s prepared you for eternal torment, never-ending, fire, spikes, and deadly weapons, you won’t leave, no, I won’t let you, not at least without a fight and- … Stop interrupting me! I swear to god this is why you’ll never get to see His face- Just die! Give up already, take the highway out of my sight, no pearly gates for you, I really can’t believe that you would throw away eternal paradise just to get some pussy! Filth like you disgusts me, your existence is vile, I can’t believe I thought you were God’s child! … You continue to power on through all the things that we’ve thrown at you, are you really that desperate that you would rap and keep rejecting God’s will? I honestly can’t believe you, lust and greed have overtook you, I know I won’t forgive you but you better hope God will. … I’ll sing here and try my best to keep the work up on our choir, help god spread his holy message, pray that our words will inspire, you can leave now, go away please, the sight of you makes me uneasy, knowing that you’re alive is a reminder of my failed duties

Now I know that you couldn’t be saved, you’re too broken, too depraved, you’ve desecrated our safe place with your unholy words today, so now just leave, exit my sight, you’ve beaten me, so now take flight I suppose that I’ll just have to cry myself to sleep again tonight… (…)

[rene-hl-trashcan]

My unsolicited two cents tho:

While I agree it's nice to receive approvals or validation, needing kudos/approvals/validation to feel that your writing is good however, is a slow-acting poison to your writer's/artist's soul. Sooner or later, it will lead you to fall into that bottomless pit of writing/drawing what people want instead of writing/drawing what you want. It's gonna become a payless chore, especially with how rabid and entitled the consumer attitude I see in readers nowadays.

You don't follow the canon lore to a T? The lore police is there to correct your ignorant ass. You write the characters a bit OOC? Some fanatic rando gonna rain on your comment section, wanting you to write the characters the 'correct' way. You write a rarepair or some obscure crack ship? Someone gonna shit in your comment section for pairing their fav with this random character. You write some Dead Dove Don't Eat stuffs or some equally triggering themes? You bet some snowflakes gonna be triggered and cry in your comment section as if it is your choice they decided to read the whole damn thing.

It wouldn't be long when you have to banish your creativity into the depth of the abyss to please your readers for those sweet sweet kudos. You're gonna hate the very thing you once do out of the passion of your heart the moment you let other people put values over it.

So yeah, TLDR, fuck everyone's validation. Others' validation is like a drug; it's good in small amount but the more you get it the more you would end up wanting and needing it, probably losing your passion and creativity to please your dealer for that sweet sweet validation in the end. Don't let it reach that point. The only reader you should be going to hell and back to please is yourself. The others are simply lucky you decided to share your piece with them for FREE.

You don't need anyone's approval for the stories you write and the art you create. But it's also absolutely valid to want some approval from your audience. Kudos and likes don't determine your creation's worth. But it just feels amazing to receive them.

[ghostofnibelheim]

azure-steel​:

This sucked. It sucked hard!

Everyday since he’d woken up to be greeted by that grey headed maniac had turned out far worse than the one before it, and here he was, laying in this deep hole seemingly chiselled into the base of a damn mountain. And for what exactly?

Cloud didn’t even know what Sephiroth was even looking for, hell - all of this could be for absolutely nothing - and for all the blond knew he was trapped here, on his own, freezing his nuts off and with a bad back to rival all bad backs in the history of everything ever. And to top it all off rather nicely, a painful gurgle in the very pit of his stomach to suggest that maybe, just maybe, Cloud had not eaten anything even remotely substantial since time itself began - at least that’s what it felt like right in that moment.

       This sucked.                IT SUCKED!!

Cloud could throw the mother of all tantrums right here in the basin of this cave if his body wasn’t such a wreck, so instead he just lays there flat to the cold damp ground and fantasising on the many ways he could wring the bastard former SOLDIER’s neck if he was even fortunate enough to see him again. Though he would use the term fortunate rather loosely.

With a mood already soured like four month old milk, he hears an odd fluttering from overhead, possibly just a bat, or perhaps something far more sinister scoping this former infantryman laying on the ground as an easy meal.

Fine. That was absolutely fine; even if he was eaten alive and forced to spend his final hour dissolving in some foul monsters intestinal tract he was quite sure his life had already hit rock bottom; both literally and figuratively all things considered.

Turns out that Strife was fortunate today, though he doesn’t come to realise that in the instant he heard a voice which was familiar and foreign all in the same instance. And shifting his head against the hilt of the blade at his back he looks towards the source of that voice, greeted then within the shadows of the cavern with what he believes initially to be a child…

… a child he felt he knew. Eyes fly wide in the wake of this thing he was witnessing, breath stilled against the stifling emotion conjured by this sudden wayward vision.

‘Do you want to play a game with me?��               ‘Are you going to fly away again…?’                        ‘That’s dumb, people don’t fly!’

                                        ‘I love you… please come back… please?’

The gravity of that old memory consumes him then, lighting every single nerve on fire, lighting him up from the inside but it wasn’t a memory he could quite grasp, not in its entirety. Because he wasn’t real, he had never been real. The mere figment of a desperately lonely boy’s imagination. It was the mako again, it had to be, there was nothing else Cloud could grasp with any reasonable comprehension that would make any of this make reasonable sense. Just the garbled thoughts of a man suffering from the withdrawal of non-consensual addiction.

Still, it takes him longer than it really should have done to realise that it was just Sephiroth he was looking at, and once that realisation had finally hit home his expression darkens once more and that memory is once again banished into the archives from whence it came.

“The hell do you think?” he spat before turning back towards the ceiling of the cave… if it even had one. “Lucky I didn’t break my damn legs.”

This sucked…

“Luck… is a good thing to have at a time like this. Hold onto that as hard as you can.” In the poorly lit cave, Sephiroth didn’t think much of the silent stare the other had given him before answering his question. If anything, he’d chalk it up to Cloud being too shaken by his fall, and perhaps surprised to see him shrunk to the size of a cat.

Gazing upon the blond for another long moment, he finally lost interest and glanced around, heading up to the small glowing blue spot on the ground in a corner when he spotted the materia he’d previously thrown. He had to cup it with both hands to pick it up, looking in thought for a minute while the green materia on his bangle reacted to his will and the spell on his body dissolved.

“This pit seems to be a trap set by those who inhabited these caves. There is an exit at the top. Obviously not one meant to be reached by those unfortunate enough to fall down here.” Now that he was back in his full form, he very easily detected the familiar stench of death. Old dust, way beyond that of organic decomposition, filled the air and his lungs.

There were bad and good sides to having pupils as those he was born with. A clearer vision in the dark, albeit with its limits, was definitely one aspect. Capturing the faint glow of the materia in his hand, it wasn’t a particular challenge for him to notice the fragments of human bones around them. He didn’t feel the need to inform the other of their presence. It was a guaranteed and overall useless guess he could make by himself.

Rather, he turned around to walk back where Cloud laid, his head tilted up to look to the obscure abyss above their heads where they- or well, one of them- had fallen from.

“Our only option is to fly to it if we want to get out.” He announced, breathing softly through his nose while his jades returned to the other male at his feet. “It would be easier to just transform you into something lighter, but that would expose you to the mako energy of this materia. You didn’t seem able to handle it well before…”

He trailed off. Voicing his thought only reinforced in his mind that irritating concern… yes, it was definitely concern what was making him hesitate. There was no point calling it anything else. Every time he’d transformed Cloud, his vegetative state had seemed to worsen. What if it happened again? It’d be a setback if the blond were to return to an unconscious state… possibly permanently.

He had to count his blessings carefully, and not give this ‘luck’ for granted. Especially when the other had already just survived a high fall without shattering his spine.

“I’ll have to carry you.” At last, he informed him, already moving down on one knee to begin the maneuver to pick up the blond. He’d carried him before of course. But flying with his full weight was something he hadn’t tried yet, and in such a closed space, without any air current to help, his only hope was that Cloud wouldn’t fuss.

[bi-disaster-yn]

Ride

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x fem!Reader

Summary: Billy is on his way to make it up to you after an argument but something dark is waiting for him along the way. (Based on Ride by Lana Del Ray).

A/N: Billy owns this song and Born to Die, Lana told me so herself !!!! Honestly poured my soul into this and broke my own heart along the way so apologies for all the angst coming your way.

I've been out on that open road You can be my full time, daddy, white and gold Singing blues has been getting old You can be my full time, baby, hot or cold

“That’s right, ya piece of shit, run away when things just get that little bit too tough for ya!” Neil hurled at Billy as he scampered out of the house, desperately fumbling his car keys in his hands. Billy’s heart was beating so hard and fast that he feared it was going to break through his ribs and rip his chest open.

“I’m coming, baby,” He mumbled over and over like a prayer, finally finding enough control over his actions to unlock the car and get in the driver’s seat. “I’m coming.”

You fidgeted in your room, waiting for him. The window lay open which permitted entry to the cold air and it engulfed you in an empty embrace, making the wait more agonising. The dark sky dotted with a few stars and the obscured figures of trees should have been the background to your Billy climbing in through the window. Instead, it was a bleak void of nothingness. You stared at the window, willing him to come to you.

Any minute, you reasoned with yourself. Any minute now, he’ll be here.

Billy slammed his foot on the gas pedal, the tape of his last drive blaring through the speakers in a deafening attack. He quickly turned the music off, needing the silence to think. It was only 20 minutes to your house if he took a shortcut down the long road on the outskirts rather than driving through town.

“I’m coming, baby. Don’t worry, I’m coming.”

He’d promised you that day at the pool that he’d come and see you that night. You just needed to give him a chance to make it up to you after the explosive argument you’d had a few days prior. He was going to prove it to you that he was better than that and he could be better, for you.

“Leave your window open, please. I’ll be there.” Billy had pleaded with you. As much as you felt like you should have pushed him away, there was something about the way his eyes turned glassy and how his face scrunched up in despair. You couldn’t deny him when he looked at you like that.

Now, you fixated on your open window and braced the chill, waiting for him to come and make his case.

Billy hadn’t registered anything his dad had yelled at him but instead frantically reviewed his options for an escape plan. Once he’d settled on a way out, he’d pushed past his dad and out the door. A vase followed after him and ricocheted off his back, falling to the ground where it shattered.

It hurt like hell but Billy didn’t care. It was temporary. If he didn’t get to you and make things right, he might as well descend into the fiery pits and accept his fate as a lost soul.

Don't break me down

I've been travelin' too long I've been trying too hard

Billy anxiously shuffled in his seat, almost embarrassed to look at himself in the rear-view mirror. He tapped his thumb off the steering wheel and swallowed thickly, toying with the idea that this might have all been in vain. You didn’t actually owe him anything. You were entitled to listen to what he had to say and then kick him out, telling him you never wanted to see him again.

He shook his head violently, as if to banish the very thought. It wasn’t over until it was over.

Clearing his throat, he decided to work on what he was going to say to win you back but inspiration failed him. Every word, sentence or paragraph that came into his head simply wasn’t good enough. It didn’t convey how he had spent the last few days after the argument wallowing in self-pity and how he had hated himself for raising his voice to you. He was only too aware of how threatened and small he felt when his dad shouted at him. The idea that he’d made you feel like that was too much to bear.

“Hey baby, remember that time we went to the beach.” Billy said aloud in his own little rehearsal. “You hired me a surfboard and you watched me.” He smiled to himself thinking of the memory that he had held so dear.

“I hadn’t done it in a while, so I kept falling over. But you just smiled and told me to get back up again. You didn’t rush me or tell me that anyone was gonna be mad if I took any longer. You gave me all the time in the world.”

It had been the first time in too long that when Billy didn’t get something right first time, no one had berated him for it. There was no Neil tutting and sighing at him, causing dread to settle at the pit of his stomach. There was no teacher giving him a disappointed frown or looking at him like he was hopeless. Even better, he didn’t feel the need to be self-deprecating or insist that he should have been better.

When he fell off that surfboard, he was met with your kind smile and encouragement. “It’s okay, honey, try again.”

You had taken his aviator sunglasses off of him and tried them on for yourself, flashing him a cheeky grin, which had made him bashful. His cheeks hurt where he couldn’t resist the smile that stretched across his face as he looked at you; in the warm glow of golden hour, wearing his sunglasses and watching him surf. Either he’d swallowed too much saltwater or God herself was really standing before him and giving him the time of day.

“I like these a bit too much, babe, might not give you them back.” You chuckled.

“Keep ‘em. They look better on you.”

Billy sighed to his empty car and prayed that you would forgive him. “I’m sorry, baby. I should have been more patient with you, the way you were with me that day.”

I hear the birds on the summer breeze

I drive fast I am alone at midnight

The drive was excruciating. Whilst he had reasoned with himself that it would only be 20 minutes and the roads were clear, it still seemed to take an age. He hated the idea of you waiting for him, wondering to yourself if he had changed his mind.

Putting his foot to the floor, he sent out a mental appeal in hopes that you would be able to read his mind and know that he was coming.

Despite his attempts to transmit a message through an invisible signal, you still sat staring out into the bleak night sky, oblivious as to where he was. A quick glance at your watch told you it was close to midnight, nearly an hour gone from when Billy was meant to have arrived.

You couldn’t help the bouncing of your leg or the involuntary scratching of your arm. Images of Billy’s desperate face revolved round your mind, taunting you with the possibility that you had been taken for a fool. As much as you tried to shake them off; the inevitable questions of ‘what if he has changed his mind’ took a hold of your shoulders and shook you forcibly. You couldn’t fend them off with logic or reason.

Chewing your thumbnail, you looked down at the acceptance letters on your nightstand. One for Yale and one for UCLA. If tonight had went the way you had planned then you would be confirming your place at UCLA and you would be Billy’s ticket back to California. You would study and he would find a job. He could go to the beach whenever he wanted and inhale the fresh sea air. He hated the stench of Hawkins and craved the safety and warmth of the Californian sun. You wanted to take him away from this horrible place and his pathetic excuse of a father.  

The possibility of a fight with Neil as an explanation for his lateness had occurred to you but it was quickly written off. After every fight with his dad, he would always find a way to sneak out and come to your house. You’d treat any cuts or bruises that he had and then take him in your arms, kissing the crown of his head until he fell asleep with tears running down his face.

Always, he found a way back to you after a fight. If he didn’t come, it was because he had chosen not to.

Been tryin' hard not to get into trouble, but I I've got a war in my mind So, I just ride Just ride, I just ride, I just ride

If he could just get to end of this country road, then it would be just be a few quick turns and he would have reached you. He was on the home straight.

That was until something came smashing through the windscreen, causing Billy to panic and swerve off the road. His body jolted to the side and he smacked his head off the window.

Grunting and blinking, he looked up and assessed the damage of his car. “Piece of shit.” He muttered repeatedly, hitting his hand off the dashboard. A sharp pain permeated through his skull and when he put his fingertips to his forehead, he could feel the blood of a fresh wound.

“Dammit.” He groaned, this time assaulting the steering wheel. He opened the door and clambered out of the car, circling round it and assessing the irreparable damage that had been caused.

At this point he was flustered and frustrated, violently kicking the car and chanting “piece of shit” at it despite how unproductive that was. This further setback on his way to you was eating away him angrily and he looked up at the sky, wishing there was some way he could get a message to you.

“I am still coming. Please, just hang on for me, okay?”

The engine had been damaged in the crash and smoke danced in the air around the bonnet. Billy walked round to inspect the damage and attempt to formulate a plan when he noticed something peculiar in the cracks where the windscreen had been smashed. He dabbed his fingers on the substance and analysed the disgusting mucus texture as it stretched when he flexed his hands.

“What the hell?” He whispered.

Suddenly, he felt the presence of something or someone scatter behind him and a new type of anxiety took purchase in his body. He swung round in hopes to catch the sneaky creature out, puffing his chest out with all his might in hopes of intimidating the poor bastard who dared try to scare him.

“Who’s there?!” He shouted into the darkness, taking uncertain steps forward and darting his eyes round like a hawk. “Hey! I said who’s there?!”

That’s when an unknown source wrapped round his ankle, dragging him to the ground and pulling him backwards into the abandoned building behind him. Billy screamed and yelled so loudly his voice grew hoarse, only there was no one around to hear him and come to his aid.

Amongst being dragged along the floor he manged to hold on to an archway and desperately tried to pull his ankle back from his captor. He remembered the time he’d rented The Shining for you both to watch and how you teased him – not for being scared but rather for pretending he wasn’t. He had protested all night that he wasn’t scared but any sudden movement had him flinching.

“Baby, just admit it! You’re terrified!” You had roared in laughter as he audibly gasped at the scene where Jack Nicholson launched his head through the door.

“I am not!” He grumbled back at you but still held on to you that little bit tighter. Just for good measure.

He wished you could see him now and that you would come and save him from this horrifying monster. He would admit to you until he was blue in the face that he was scared, just as long as you were there to protect him from whatever it was this creature had planned for him. If you could find your way to this archway, saintlike and strong, you’d be able to free him from this.

But you never came and it didn’t take long for the monster to overpower Billy. His hands slipped from the archway, pulling him downwards into the lair of the Mind Flayer.

Don’t leave me now

Don't say goodbye Don't turn around Leave me high and dry

By 2 a.m. you’d given up on any notion that Billy was coming that night. A bloodcurdling rage caused you to swing your window shut with a slam, locking it so that the monster, Billy Hargrove couldn’t get to you. Tears of frustration streamed down your puffy cheeks as you planted your palms on your dresser and with one furious sweep, threw everything to the floor.

Everything came to a crash in a pointless mess. Items collided with each other mid-air and then scattered apart on the floor, much like your hurt, sadness and exasperation.

Billy’s sunglasses lay amongst the rubble, staring back at your panting and bitter frame. Squeezing your eyes shut and putting your hands to your head, you tried to fight the tears off but it just inspired more to fall.

You remembered when Billy had driven you out to a lake in the woods on a hot summer day. He had found a tyre swing which you had gladly got on as he pushed you. The two of you laughed like children and as you were pushed further and further into the air on the swing you felt an eternal sense of youth. It was as though nothing could ever be bad after this. You and Billy had found your own slice of heaven.

The rain crudely interrupted your carefree day and it wasn’t long until it came crashing down in an aggressive downpour. Still giggling like kids, Billy tugged your hand back to the car as you made a pointless attempt to shield yourselves from the rain with your arms.

Once safe in the car, both of you looked at each other and erupted into more giggles. Billy’s hair was soaked and plastered to his face. His sunglasses that you were sporting were dotted with water droplets and steamed up, impairing your vision. He smirked and pulled them off your face.

It was like looking into the face of an angel. The laughter stopped and his lips parted slightly, gently caressing your soft and wet cheek with his thumb. He swallowed thickly, taking in the celestial being before him and respected your divinity by giving you a look of upmost adoration.

“What?” You had chuckled at Billy’s sudden intensity.

“I just fucking love you.” He answered with a whisper, staring at your lips.

“I love you too.”

Both of his hands had found their way to your cheeks, pulling you in softly and kissing you intently. Your hands tangled in his damp hair and tugged a little, causing him to whine and deepen the kiss. The rain outside battered against the car like an attack but you both were safe inside, sheltered against the brutal weather together.

When you pulled back, your foreheads met and you both caught your breath back. His thumb returned to your cheek and continued its worshipping caress along your cheekbone. You stared into his eyes knowing it would make him sheepish. Your success was confirmed as he dipped his head to avert your gaze and he chuckled to himself.

“Me and you are forever. I’ll never leave you.” He had said and put his sunglasses back on your lap. It was a promise he’d fully intended to keep.

Without any evidence to the contrary, all you’d been left with was an evening wasted watching the window and his sunglasses that lay on your floor taunting you. You lifted your leg up and brought it down with an extreme force, which split the glasses in half between the lenses and made a sickening crack sound.

You flopped helplessly to the floor at the side of your bed. Your body shook with violent sobs and you hauled your knees close to your chest. Convulsing physically, emotionally and mentally; you had wondered how the Billy who had once looked at you like you were God could now make you feel this weak and unwanted.

I'm tired of feeling like I'm fucking crazy I'm tired of driving 'til I see stars in my eyes All I've got to keep myself sane, baby So I just ride, I just ride

Unbeknownst to him how, Billy managed to pull himself away from the monster the second he was given an ounce of leeway. He clumsily tripped over and pulled himself back up again, running with as much force as his large limbs would allow.

He frantically got into his car and sped off in the opposite direction of your house, plagued with the disturbing visions of what had just happened to him. He drove with a different type of desperation than before as the terror sunk in deeper and deeper, taking a hold of his lungs and making him gasp for air.

On the side of the road, he spotted a lit up telephone box like an oasis in the desert. Surely, he would be able to procure himself some safety if he’d be able to just alert someone to the dreadful events he’d just endured.

Billy stopped the car and charged towards the box, grabbing the phone from its hook and dialling in the numbers with incredible urgency.

The only sound he could hear when he pressed the phone to his ear was his own ragged breathing and the banal ringing. When the voice asked “911, what’s your emergency?”, Billy couldn’t help but relive his trauma from mere moments ago.

He’d been dragged down into a basement full of squeaking rats. He had suffered a large tentacle spreading across his face and suctioning on his life source. Despite Billy’s shrieking and flailing, the monster only stopped when it had taken from him what it wanted and replaced in him the tools that it needed for its grand purpose.

Billy came to the horrifying realisation that no one was going to believe him and slowly dropped the phone. The lights in the box above him flickered, ready for his next round of torment.

He emerged from the telephone box into a Hawkins that was dark and unruly. Dust mites swirled round in the air and a deep fog settled over what was once a clear night sky. Thunder crashed and red lightning danced, creating a source of light that had been deprived from the streetlights.

Billy stumbled forwards, coming across a group of people making his way towards him. He asked them with distrust and fear in his voice; “what do you want?”

When they didn’t answer, he mustered up as much confidence as he could and demanded; “hey, I said what do you want?!”

He continued to head towards them, determined to understand this mob and their intentions. After his ordeal, he was struggling with what resolve he had left to defend himself.

Meeting him halfway was an exact replica of himself, only without the gore and dirt on his body that Billy had from the monster attack. A clean and fresh version stared back at him like a reflection. It made his heart drop to the pit of his stomach.

“What do you want?!” Billy asked again, agonised over the silence and the unknown.

“To build.” His doppelganger responded in a voice that wasn’t his. “I want you to build.”

“To build what?”

“What you see.”

“I don’t understand.” Billy said but was transported back to the Hawkins he knew. The open road stretched out in front of him with no mob in sight. The streetlights were switched back on; the thunder and lightning stopped. He was alone.

“I don’t understand!” He yelled again yet made his way back to his car.

Billy started to drive with a new divine purpose. With no specified destination, he drove down the open and empty road, trying to understand and piece together what his mission was to be for his new God.

A tiny piece of him tried to scream that there was a reason he’d gotten into his car that night and that she was now sobbing into her pillow, willing herself to try and sleep so that she might escape the pain of rejection. This voice was quickly silenced by Billy’s new sacred assignment, which was about to take priority over anything else.

Billy continued his journey, driving miles away from the direction of your house, and from you.  

I've got a war in my mind I just ride Just ride, I just ride, I just ride

[scarletarosa]

The Demons

These entities which have been constantly claimed to be evil by Abrahamic religions are much more than what they have been portrayed to be. This is an account based off my many years of working with these beings and speaking to them about their history, mindsets, and values.  

Origin: As the demons and deities have told, Jehovah is not actually the supreme deity, but rather an imposter for the Source (whose counterpart is the Queen of Heaven). The first demons to exist were once angels (agents of the Source/Queen) and many of them were deities (since “angels” is an umbrella-term for all sorts of spirits tasked with directly serving the supreme God and Goddess). When Jehovah had arrived to seize control over the Universe and Earth, Lucifer, the first-born deity from the Source, had led a war against him; yet this traumatic battle ended horribly. Jehovah’s power as an Aeonic god (a deity who creates the physical and metaphysical Universes) outmatched the power of the Universal gods, yet he had been crippled. He defeated them and banished the divine beings who rebelled against his tyranny into the land of torment, Hell, and destroyed their original homeland in the heavens.

Upon arriving in Hell, the fallen angels became demons due to the dark energies of Hell; this caused them to lose their divine glow and become more dark and intimidating in appearance. Their wings blackened, they grew horns, and some even developed spikes on their bodies, claws, or red eyes. Yet they remained beautiful in some darker way, but their hearts were broken. The most powerful of the demons were Lucifer, Satan, and Leviathan; they became the High Kings and sought out to build their own kingdoms in Hell, each kingdom following their own values. From this time on, they became primarily focused on war and revenge. Their new realm began being used by the divine Judges of the Underworld who send evil souls there, allowing the three High Kings to determine torments for them (all evil people are sent to Hell, whether they follow Jehovah or not).  

With the rise of Abrahamic religions, the demons and even some polytheistic deities were labeled as “evil” and were taught to represent the very things which they opposed. Where they teach Lucifer to represent lies, he is instead truth/knowledge, Mammon as greed when he is generosity, Lilith as infertility when she is life/motherhood, Asmodeus as lust when he is love. Yet it is as they say, that the “victors get to write history” and the rebels who fought against a tyrant are portrayed as the ones who are evil. Additionally, not all demons began as fallen angels, as some were gods whose people had been slaughtered and the deities had lost themselves to grief. But instead of allowing them to suffer, many had been recruited by Lucifer into his own kingdom.  

The Three Kingdoms:

The kingdom ruled by Lucifer and his wife, Lilith, is set in a desert wasteland of eternal twilight, but some demons managed to develop oases here. The land looks extremely ancient and mysterious, with some smoldering ruins in the distance. Queen Lilith is viewed as the demons’ Mother Goddess due to her many children and her motherly nature. This kingdom has many areas which are filled with tormented corrupt souls, even gruesome scenes of them being torn apart over and over or having unspeakable things done to them. The values of this kingdom primarily include the seeking of knowledge, wisdom, justice, and developing strength through hardships. Overall, Lucifer is the Initiator towards Illumination, the prime light, and the beam which shatters ignorance.  

The kingdom ruled by Satan and his wife, Ashtoreth, is a dark volcanic land. The landscape reflects strongly Satan’s personality of being easily angered, rebellious, fearless, and destructive. He has many people being burned alive in pits of lava and many other torments within his domain. Satan’s kingdom primarily values military might, aggressive revolutions, and strength of character. Satan is the fiery rebel who incites civil unrest and causes revolutions. Without him, there is apathy and submission to dictatorships. 

The kingdom ruled by Leviathan is a desolate place of steep canyons and emptiness; the energy of this place can fill a human with crushing loneliness beyond imagining, only the demons can withstand it. This kingdom is the most well-defended one since Leviathan focuses primarily on defense whereas the other two are moreso offensive. King Leviathan is a draconic deity who rules over loneliness, desolation, solitude, and deep feelings of despair. He was once one of the Watchers who dwelt in the sea of Earth, but after the War, he greatly changed. Overall, Leviathan destroys everything that is redundant, whether it be places, people, or ideas; he tears through them all. He tends to be cold, calculating, serious, and very withdrawn.

Values: Overall, demons are wise beings who seek to darkly illuminate individuals of Truth, no matter how upsetting it often is. They also teach people how to be strong by putting us through hardships that we must overcome, yet will offer advice if asked. The demons are therefore pedagogues who urge us towards overcoming our weaknesses and seeking spiritual evolution so we may become stronger than ordinary humans. Due to their painful pasts of great loss, the demons are one of the spirit races who best know what it means to overcome suffering and instead allow it to transform you. They often teach this when asked, otherwise, they usually target evil people during their lives by inflicting bad situations upon them or causing them to have cancers or other health issues.  

The demons value wisdom and strength that is gained through walking the solitary path through Hell. It is a path that tears a person apart until they are finally reborn as something far more capable and knowledgeable of who they truly are. It is the demons who know that wisdom is paid for through blood and the sacrifice of one’s current self, and they seek to teach humans how to walk this path. Typically, the demons do not hold the majority of humans in high regard; both for the obvious reasons and because they have watched humans allow themselves to grow weaker over the ages. They seek humans who are willing to step into the abyssal darkness in order to find the light, and those who are willing to forego all that they were taught so they can learn the truth. They teach that once a person removes all of their chains of emotional burden and false beliefs, it is only then that they will they be free and find illumination.

Hierarchy: The highest-ranking demons in Hell are the High Kings and the Queens. These rulers are the ones who appoint promising and trustworthy demons of their courts to certain military ranks of nobility. These (in order of highest to lowest) are as such: kings, dukes, princes, marquises, earls, knights, and presidents. There is also a War Master for each kingdom, whose authority is second-in-command to their High King and Queen. The Goetic demons (the nobility of Hell) are all deities whereas the non-nobles can be either deities or semi-divine demons (as offspring of other demons). Among the nobility of Hell are also the children of the Kings and Queens, since they through blood hold a significant title.  

Demons are also capable of being exiled from Hell if they turn traitor. Although exile for demons means that they will be tortured to death. Upon the death of a spirit, their manifestation is torn apart and it takes many years (sometimes hundreds) to reform. Once they reform, they cannot return to Hell. There have been plenty of traitorous demons in Hell, as not all of them remain loyal and every race of beings has their fair share of corruption. For demons, some begin seeking more power or destruction and so often secretly pledge themselves to the snake-god of evil, Apep. This causes the rogue demons to begin trying to assassinate their own kind, but are quickly discovered and sentenced to a horrific death. Due to these, it is important to remember that not all demons are safe to work with and that it is best to go through their rulers when asking for who best to trust. However, the majority of the Goetia have remained faithful as only a few have ever been exiled; so they are typically safe to work with. A few examples of demons who are very unsafe to work with are Pazuzu, Moloch, and Amy.

Working with Demons: When working with the demonic race, it is best to keep an open-mind and be honest with them. They strongly value those who seek to learn more about who demons truly are and who also seek to better themselves through hardships. Remember to be respectful of these beings and to not treat them in belittling ways (such as calling them nicknames). It is also wise to dress appropriately when calling upon them to manifest in your area; do not dress in sleepwear (especially for the Goetia or other royalty). Additionally, make certain that you do not use any ritualistic summonings to call upon them, as they will be offended by this and leave (no evocation triangles or anything of that sort). One can however feel free to use their enns to either call upon them, meditate upon them, or chant the enns to bless things in a demon’s honour. Make certain that you treat them just as you would any honoured mentor and do not mock them or make lustful moves towards them since there are many demons who do not hesitate to punish humans for doing this.  

One thing that everyone going into demonolatry should always keep in mind is that you should never offer a demon your blood unless you completely understand what you are doing and who you are offering it to, When a person offers their blood to a demon, it is essentially you making a binding contract of devotion to them. If this demon turns out to be a harmful one, they now have the power to do to you whatever they please and you basically belong to them. So this action is overall something unwise. Something else to keep in mind is that the idea of “selling one’s soul” is not only impossible (since the soul is the higher self and is not ours to sell) but it also invites the malevolent tar spirits to you. Once a tar spirit gets ahold of a person wishing to sell themself, the person is now at risk of being possessed by them.

Overall, remember to be polite when working with demons (no need to be overly polite but be respectful at least) and take time to give them offerings when they do something to help you. As for the race of spirits called “tar spirits”, they at times like to pretend to be demons. So if a demon is acting strange towards you or is being harmful, there is a strong chance that it’s actually a tar spirit in disguise; although they can be banished by using an astral attack.

Links: The Angels, Tar Spirits, The Source, Lucifer, Lilith, Satan, Ashtoreth, Leviathan

[deshayes]

Charlotte notes, as she studies the man before her, that he is quite pretty. His eyes gleam where they catch the light at a specific angle, sharp features framed by long, golden hair cascading down to the small of his back. It's almost as if he's glowing, bathed in a swath of pale moonlight. She nearly misses the way he tugs at her wrist, she's so enamored by his beauty. This isn't the first time something like this has happened — Victor often teases her about it, the way she becomes entranced in the face of their quarry. She can't help it. A great deal of them are ... soft, pretty little things. She doesn't like to blemish them, but there is an undertone of jealousy in the way she hunts. Charlotte doesn't find beauty in the harsh, rugged scowl that often paints her features. The cracks in her teeth, the mats in her hair ...

She thinks that she hates them, but there is doubt that lingers. She feels the weight of it sink like a heavy stone into the pit of her stomach, wishing that she could sever their tongues so as to not bear the sounds of their cries. She does not enjoy playing the Entity's games, but is there any other choice? She does not want to be a monster, but is that not what she is? What she has always been?

"Charlotte." Soft-spoken despite her initial gruffness, she answers his question, banishing treacherous thoughts from her mind. She should not be speaking to him — in the end, it will only make what must be done more difficult. But she finds herself unable to stop, allowing curiosity to get the better of her. She senses Victor's amusement and is reminded of the fact that she is still visibly flushed, cheeks red with embarrassment upon the realization that she'd been caught staring. Charlotte clears her throat and directs a pointed glare at her brother. "I cannot answer your question ... beyond what I know to be true." Which is admittedly, very little. Several years spent trapped in this Hell and there are still so many things she does not understand.

Alucard is allowed to stand on his own two feet again, though Charlotte retains a firm grip on the collar of his shirt. He's dressed all fancy-like. Both twins have always shared a similar distaste for nobility, but neither of them can bring themselves to hate Alucard. It is as Charlotte said — he is different. A creature of the night, one fabled in many of the tales Charlotte had heard before. A vampyre. Perhaps they should be afraid, but are they not one in the same? Most would call them demons. She is beginning to believe there might be some truth to that.

" ... I am meant to kill you." The woman confesses. "I do not want to, but I must. You understand?"

Please understand.

What a strange world he had found himself in, Alucard could still not grasp the entirety of it. The dhampir thought he had understood the concept of it; a never-ending loop of escape attempts that more often than not ended with despair and pain while one was sacrificed to the insatiable entity. He had met some of the others that had been pulled into this world before him; nervous but loyal Dwight Fairfield, Alan Wake, a man that wrote books about a world unfamiliar to Alucard, or Mikaela Reid, who’s healing magic was more effective than anything he had ever seen before. What a strange bunch they all were, they were all endearing in their own way, but Alucard mostly kept to himself, still trying to figure out how he ended up here and how he could return to Wallachia.

And even though there were possibilities of friendship, there was also the other side of the medal. The ones that would chase and hunt them down to spill their blood, no matter the cost. There was a man that used nasty bear traps to catch them, another one who chased them with what the others have explained to him was a chainsaw, a mean instrument that could cut through flesh without any effort. But there were also beings that reminded him more of night creatures, like the Dredge or Demogorgon, but Alucard assumed there were many more he had not yet met.

When something was jumping onto his back, Alucard was ready to pull it off, but it was surprisingly strong and when small fingers pried his mouth open, he hesitated. This was a child. For a moment he did not know how to react when he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye and the woman that stepped into his field of vision easily pulled the child off his back, only to grab him by his collar, and even though Alucard was rather tall, this woman easily lifted him up to hold him a few feet above ground.

Almost on instinct he bares his fangs, hissing at her as he expected to find himself impaled on the sharp end of a hook again soon, but for now she was just holding him, as if she was inspecting him. Alucard did not miss the way her gaze softened the slightest bit, but he was not foolish enough to let down his guard. Golden hues met her blue ones and after a moment he wrapped his slender fingers around her wrist, just slightly pulling on them to at least make her put him back onto the ground. He was not stupid enough to expect a good ending to this encounter, but if she was willing to talk, then he should use this opportunity to try and get some information out of her.

His voice is gentle as he speaks, he held no grudge against anyone being held captive in this world, and his gaze wanders to the boy clinging to her before meeting her eyes again.

“What is this place? Who are you?”

[bloodycassian]

Tension - reader x Azriel - reader keeps a secret, Az finds out during battle. 

Quietly stacking books, you hummed to yourself. Below the house of wind was one of the most massive libraries in the world, and it was your happy place. The smell of worn leather and the age of the books was comforting. Then there was the monastery screeching coming from the pit.  Cassian was yelling too as he shot upwards, like a shooting star sent from hell. And after him, whipping tentacles of darkness that licked at his heels. Then, a blue shield right alongside those arms shooting upwards.  The priestess screamed, frantically hiding behind bookcases or feeling to exit. You stood from where you had hid under a desk. Knowing Azriel, he would have told you about the attack if he had the ability to do so. He would have warned you if a threat was about to hit the temple. So this was...unexpected then. Suspicion rose in your chest, making you weary. But the threat was real. The whipping of those ugly arms breaking the railing above was real. You felt the light emerge from you before you could even think of it. The cool thrum of power flowed over you. Taking a breath, you centered yourself and walked to the edge of the balcony, gripping the rail and peeking down. The tendrils of darkness leaked translucent slime down. Not Byraxis, no... Something far more power thirsty. Azriel grunted as he pulled his sword from the side of a thick tendril licking upward.  You summoned the light from your chest, coaxing it out of you. Cassian was slicing away at the tentacles that reached for him, while they began retreating. Inquiring about the new power source they felt. You let out your song of light, letting it bleed into that dark abyss below.  "The guardian" Someone gasped from the balcony above. "Shes the temple champion." Silence, then awes rang out from all levels. Your light flooded the area, forcing the beast to retreat lower into the abyss. You paused only to hop over the railing into Cassian's arm. He still had his sword at the ready in the other hand. Azriel was far below, avoiding your light. He kept a safe distance away. You cursed yourself, knowing the information you withheld from him was going to cause issues.  Your nose crackled at the pressure as Cassian slowly glided you down floor after floor. Chasing those slimy tentacles all the way down. You dared not speak, fearing the darkness would whisk your voice itself away. Whisper it as secrets to other dark forces. You did however, think about all the insults you wanted to throw at the two Illyrians for not warning you of their spying under the temple grounds.  No one knew of what forces lurked in the tunnels below. Built by ancient fae along ago, no one remembered. No one dared to try to find out. Cassian and Azriel had only been down there to find out if Byraxis still lived, if the creature had returned to its chasam after the war somehow. The smell was putrid at best. Nauseating at worst. You held in a gag when Cassian landed with you. Your light burned into the side of the fish-like body that lay below, cowering from your light. Azriel stood in a corner behind you, siphons glowing in a blue that matched your light. Pure, bright light.  "What exactly do you two plan to do with this now?" You said, biting back the anger that rose in your tone.  "We need a spell seeker, someone who can find the book to vanish this thing." Azriel spoke from behind. "And it seems you would be that someone." He nodded to how the monster filling the pit seemed to cower from you. "Check the lower levels, for any spellbook that stands out to you. Cass you're with me." Az waved his friend over, both their siphons flaring as the beast moved weakly. You tried to ignore that clipped tone he used. How his eyes refused to even skim your way. Shame coiled in your gut as you ran to the stairs.  You glanced one more time back to Azriel. Wholly focused on the monster in front of him, he tried to ignore the panging urge to protect you. You rushed up the stairs to the bookshelves that were still intact after Byraxis' attack.  You followed your gut, trying to get rid of the nagging pull that was trying to bring you back down to Azriel. You closed your eyes, hands out in front of you and let your other senses guide you. Straight into the side of a bookshelf.  You knew the Illyrians would be laughing if they had witnessed it. But it led you to just what you needed. The old wooden shelves were cracked with age, weathered. The second shelf from the top seemed to be singing to you. Like a magnet drawing you to it.  You reached, standing on your toes. Then jolted back at the sharp sting that zapped through you.  + Azriel's heart sank as more and more time passed. The weight of betrayal was still there, but concern overlapped it. The beast hissed and occasionally whipped a tentacle out - testing them. And it grew more confident with each minute.  He cursed under his breath, his shadows unable to tell him anything about the dark thing. Cassian roared, spearing his sword into a writhing tentacle that wrapped around his leg. Azriel knew they had to keep it where it was so you could banish it. But the temptation to fly above and dislodge a rock big enough to hold it in place was growing.  "I have it!" His heart gave in to relief at the sound of your voice. You held the book above your head triumphantly. "I just need to-" Before you could finish, you were swooped into the air. The smell was worse than before. You clutched the book like a lifeline.  Az's shadows flared, beelining to you immediately. They hovered around, unable to spear through that light you emitted. You began glowing again, that blue light flickering as you moved the book away from your chest. The beast wailed.Az's heart lurched in his throat. He took off with a roar, sword out. And sliced precisely through the thick member that had been holding you in place. You fell.  Cassian's soft laugh was a comfort. He held you against his chest, sword still out. "Miss me?" He asked, angling his siphon to fend off an attack. He turned serious as he looked down. You could have swore you saw his dark skin turn ashen.  "Say the spell, just.. yell. Yell it now." He grunted, swinging his sword and trying to balance you in an arm and fly all at the same time. You stumbled over your words, but summoned that familiar light inside you. You opened the book and began. The ground shook when the beast screeched. Cassian's next words were muffled. Not words, cheering and jostling you in his arms. Azriel circled below, making sure the monster was really leaving. It turned to dust below you slowly, its ashes circling upward and covering you. Cassian coughed. You looked up to see the specks floating high above, shimmering in your light like snowflakes. They raced up, going to that moonlight hole in the roof of the library.  "Good work, Champion." Cassian congratulated as he set you down on the floor. Your feet stuck slightly, but the odor was dissipating quickly.  Azriel did not look as pleased. He stared at the two of you with the icyness that would make enemies weary. "Why didnt you tell us?"  "Why didnt you already know?" You winked, making Cassian hold back a laugh. You turned, going to place the book back where you had found it. It was calling for its home, as if it knew it had served its purpose.  There were mutters of the two Illyrians behind you, then rustling of wings as one took off. Azriel followed you, you could feel those cool shadows nipping at your heels. They never fully encompassed you like you'd seen done to his friends. It was like they were weary of you, afraid perhaps. He jogged to catch up to you. "You could have been killed." He growled beside you. His wings were still flared out, as if still waiting battle.  You smirked to yourself, not allowing his bad mood to ruin your after battle high. "So could you. Anyone can die at any moment." You didnt spare him a glance, you knew that he was brooding. He said nothing else as he followed you to the bookshelf. You placed the book back with a sigh, the attachment fading. The book seemed to whisper a sort of goodbye before that hum dulled into nothing, and you could feel the exhaustion beginning to gather around you.  Azriel had not taken his eyes off you. That cold stare burned into you, and when you finally met his gaze his eyes flared. You could feel those shadows circling you, trying their best to take you in. You let a flicker of that light flare out of you and they retreated. He hissed, taking a step back. "Take a break from it Az, you cant possibly know everything." you scolded, trying to shove past him.  He grabbed your hand, pulling you back. "I know about those powers. I know the stories." He bit back a smile as your face flashed in shock. "And I know there are only three of you left." He held your hand still, locking you in place even further. The cool thrill of terror thrummed deep in your bones. You smiled sweetly at him though, hoping to play it off. "I have no idea what you're talking about." You ripped your hand away, your power thrumming in preparation for a fight if he tried.  He only chuckled to himself, nodding. Those shadows made him seem menacing, whirling around him in a way that made a bit of fear come out. His wings seemed to grow, towering over his head. "Enjoy the walk up." He winked, before turning and taking off with those powerful wings.  You cursed to yourself, stunned there at the bottom of the pit alone. Your mind raced the entire way back up, your light the only thing making it possible to make it past the first six floors. Once there was enough faelight to guide the rest of the way, you tucked that light back into yourself.  You could have sworn you heard a soft laugh from the pit. 

[archangelsquill]

to hell and back || damien darkblood x reader 

pairing: damien darkblood x partner reader (gn, no y/n)

fandom: invincible

word count: 1448

summary: after omni-man flees earth and things begin to settle down, cecil feels he owes you -- the demon detective’s partner in solving crime -- a favor.

warnings: none

a/n: a sequel to this. darkblood deserves better, and by the gods, i’m giving it to him! enjoy, my fellow simps.

———

“If anything happens to them, on your head it will be, Cecil!”

Those were the final words of the demon as the pits of hell called him home, and as Cecil met his gaze, he knew it was no threat. It was a promise, and though he considered himself a bastard, Cecil saw no need to keep you in danger. He knew without Darkblood around, you were a target for Nolan. He’d already had security detail on you, but against Omni-Man, he knew it was useless. If he ever decided he wanted you dead, there’d be nothing stopping him.

Then, if Cecil was lucky (or maybe unlucky) to stay out of the warpath, he’d have Darkblood breathing down his neck, even with such distance between this world and his.

Sending him back to Hell wasn’t something Cecil wanted to do. It was a necessity. He owed him big time for that, and he’d start with keeping you off Nolan’s radar.

The official report was that you’d gone to stay with an imaginary Aunt Sue, somewhere in the Dakotas, but the reality was you were to be kept in the Global Defense Agency Headquarters -- well hidden, out of sight, and away from Nolan Grayson.

No one told you a thing. You’d been in your apartment, waiting for Damien to show up with those coffees he’d promised. Evidence, photos, and papers of theories and notes were scattered around the small space, occupying every inch of surface area, as you paced, a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach growing stronger and stronger the longer your demon detective was away. Something was wrong, and as Cecil Stedman appeared suddenly before you, making you jump out of your skin, you knew for sure. 

“You’re the demon’s partner, right?”

“Yeah, that’s me. I guess you’re Cecil.”

“You guess right. You need to come with us.”

“Why?”

“You’re not safe anymore.”

“What?”

“I can’t answer your questions now. Pack a bag. You won’t be coming back for a while.”

You didn’t argue. You didn’t have a choice.

The Global Defense Agency took care of your monthly expenses while you were gone, as if that made any of this less scary or confusing. All you’d been told was Damien was back in Hell, Cecil put him there, and you were in danger.

No one told you much else. Cecil had acted civil toward you -- kind, even -- but it didn’t help. Damien was gone, it was Cecil’s fault, and life may never be normal again.

All because you two asked questions.

Because you wanted the truth.

And you both had paid the price: freedom.

Meanwhile, Omni-Man roamed free, ready to kill again.

You lost count of how long you’d been at GDA HQ when Nolan finally struck.

Initially, you’d been barred from the control room, but Cecil let you choose to watch the chaos or stay blind to it.

You choose not to watch. No one needed you to be in the room when all of the ruin, disaster, and chaos you and Damien knew would happen happened. Based on what Cecil told you after, you were glad you decided to stay out of it.

All of those innocent people, now dead. All of that destruction. All of that carnage, and for what? Omni-Man had fled.

It was for nothing.

And Debbie…

You’d offered as much comfort as you could. You knew how it felt to lose a loved one (it took all you had not to look pointedly at Cecil when you told her that) and the woman needed someone to lean on. Someone not quite so cold as Cecil.

And he’d watched you. Despite everything, you comforted Debbie and Mark, putting on a brave face as if you haven’t lost everything, too. Cecil knows you’re still hurting -- why wouldn’t you be?

Cecil was many things, and a man who paid his debts was absolutely one of them.

He’d been searching since he put Darkblood back in Hell for it: the spell to undo what he did. To summon him back. His plan was always to bring him back, if such a thing existed. He’d had his people looking for months with no luck, and he’d already given you the all clear to go home, with the promise your rent and utilities were paid for until you could get back on your feet.

Yeah. Right. How the fuck do you do that? Your partner -- not only in profession but your partner -- was gone, your office had been trashed, and your apartment felt so empty it was somehow suffocating.

For weeks after you’d returned, you’d laid on the couch, staring at the ceiling, jumping at any change in the temperature, hoping one day you’d look up and see him, only to find it was the apartment complex’s shitty circulation.

The news talked about things going back to normal, yet normal sounded like a foreign language now. How was the world supposed to be any kind of normal again?

Cecil made a few visits to check on you, but you regarded him with coldness that could rival that of Damien’s. He couldn’t blame you.

You’d lost track of the days when the sigh that escaped your lips was accompanied by a small fog. You froze, sitting up from your temporary home on the couch before exhaling again. Just to be sure.

And there it was again: the small visage of your breath indicating the decrease in temperature you’d been ignoring out of lost hope.

“Damien…?”

“Yes, amare?” the gruff baritone was music to your ears as you turned toward your kitchen. There he was: red, large, and intimidating -- yet that soft look in his gaze remained, as if no time at all had passed.

“Damien!” you leapt over the couch, nearly tumbling to the ground before two strong arms grab you, pulling you into the warmest yet coldest bear hug you’ve ever gotten.

“Sorry for delay. Had to...speak with Cecil...” he rumbles, clawed hand carding through your hair, “Need to be ‘debriefed’ but...had to see you.”

“I can tell you what you missed.” you mumble, burying your face in his arms. He pulls you tighter still, resting his chin on the top of your head.

“Later,” he says.

And for a moment -- how long, you’re not sure -- you both just sit there on the living room floor, holding each other in a silent, loving embrace. Tears stream down your face, stinging from the cold emanating from Damien. His hand moves to brush them away, and the contact makes you cry more. You missed him. It had been so long.

After what felt like forever, you part -- just enough to look at each other. He, of course, looks no different. Demons didn’t age like humans did. You, however, probably look like shit. You hadn’t looked in a mirror in forever, but you knew your hair was much longer. You hadn’t bothered to get it cut in...how long had it been? It wasn’t like you could’ve gotten it cut, anyway. The city had been rebuilding, and getting anywhere was...well, hell.

“Beautiful as the day I lost you,” he says, and your tears well up again.

“I know I look like shit, Damien,” you say, trying to laugh off the sudden absence of your grief. He smiles slightly -- a rare sight.

“To me you look like heaven, amare,” he replies.

Amare. His nickname for you. You think its Latin, but you’ve never looked into what it means. You never asked, either, assuming he’d just tell you one day.

But you almost lost him.

You couldn’t bring yourself to look into it after he was gone, and now that he was here again….you decide to ask.

“You’ve called me that since we became partners. What does it mean?”

“Supposed to be a detective.” he replies. His own attempt at a joke, you muse. You’re in no mood for it.

“Damien, please.”

He looks at you fondly, placing a kiss to your forehead.

“Love. It means love.”

You should’ve figured, yet you find yourself crying again, and his arms wrap tighter around you in a protective, loving embrace.

There was more to be said between you two. You both know it. What happened to Damien in Hell? How did everything with Nolan go down here? Now that Cecil knew how to banish and summon Damien as he pleased, what would become of your demon detective?

All need answers. Resolutions.

But not now.

Now was the time for healing: for the world, for humanity, and for you and your demon in that tiny apartment.

You had him back, and though so much hangs in the air, that was enough.