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vivalaluciforever · 3 years

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Everybody x Reader - Part Five (Angst Warning)

Third-person pov:

"Barbatos! What do we do!?" half screams Asmo in fear.

Barbatos quickly pushes everybody else out of the room. "OUT! I need to get her out of those wet clothes and wrapped in a blanket. We'll handle it after the fact."

Quickly, and much to your future chagrin, Barbatos takes off your clothes and wipes the frigid water off of your body. Expertly, and with very strong arms, Barbatos wraps your unconscious self up in a thick, soft, and very warm blanket. Rushing as fast as he can, he quickly ties your hair up with a ponytail into a messy bun and wraps a thick towel around your head.

"BEELZEBUB!" yells Barbatos with a cool and commanding tone.

In less than five seconds, Beel is in the room. "Yes?! Do you need something?!"

"Pick her up! Gently now. Pick her up, be extra careful to support her injured head. We're leaving the other three here. We can't wait any longer. She needs a bed, a warm fire in a fireplace, and especially an expert doctor." commands Barbatos.

Beel does as Barbatos says while the butler goes to grab the others. In a matter of seconds, Barbatos casts a teleportation spell and whisks everybody down to the Devildom. Though he doesn't show it, he silently prays that the other three men and that (Y/N) will be safe.

Lucifer's pov:

This little... no. (Y/N) wouldn't want me to cuss, not right now, and I have my pride to uphold. I'll handle this... more adequately in private at the Demon Lord's Castle in the Devildom. Glancing over, I see Mammon and Lord Diavolo land another blow to the captor.

"Enough," I whisper, my voice cold and full of hot fury. "We'll get revenge later... in a more appropriate environment, and with more appropriate... instruments. For now, we need to hurry. The others are at that safe house, the storm has blown in, and (Y/N) needs us."

"Don't think that ya' are off the hook," states Mammon. Then he leans in close in quietly whispers to him. "Because no one... NO one touches MY human. Ya' got another thing comin'. Just you wait till ALL of us get our hands on you."

Lord Diavolo nods his head in furious agreement. Casting a spell, I summon magical chains and entrap the attacker in them. I may or may not have made them burning hot... evident enough by his screams. With a hard flick of my wrist, he is quickly yanked down and into the castle's torture chamber. I smile at the grim thought of all the pain he'll feel. People aren't wrong when they say I'm a sadist, and there's only one thing they don't know. (Y/N) is the only person who gets ALL of my affection... well my brothers get quite a bit too. Oh, he'll pay alright.

"Lucifer's right. We should hurry to the safe house. The others probably need help." states Lord Diavolo.

With that, the three of us rush out and into the storm. Taking off into the sky, the wind grabs us by our wings. It feels like you're getting tugged behind a car by a rope attached to your waist. Using our inhuman strength, we get our wings up and force a path through the growing storm. Lightning's flashing all around us, and we all expertly dodge the lightning while maneuvering the storm's harsh wind changes.

Suddenly I hear a muffled scream. Turning my head, I see Mammon start to fall. Without a second thought, I abandon Lord Diavolo and dive for my brother as he plummets to the ground. Freefall diving, I tuck my wings in tight to my body so that I'll gain more of an arrow impact heading downward.

It's hard to see through the mess of the storm, and the water constantly streams into my eyes from my hair. I only realize how close I am when I see Mammon's wings by my head. He's freefalling, his face contorted in pain, and his wings pointed up above him as they try to stay up. Torpedoing downward, I grab him around his waist and pull him to my chest. I swiftly tuck in his injured wings for him. With a mighty shove of my own wings, I push us back up and through the storm. While doing so, Mammon tucks his head in by my neck and holds on tightly around my waist.

Eventually, the Lord Diavolo land in front of the house and rush inside to check on the others. I, however, carefully carry in Mammon. Looking around, we realize that no one is here.

"Where are they!" Lord Diavolo exclaims in shock.

I let out a deep breath through my nose to calm down. Suddenly Mammon speaks up. "The Devildom. I bet they took (Y/N) there. She probably needed a doctor, so they had little to no other choice. I doubt that Barbatos would leave someone here, especially when they all wanted to help with (Y/N). Admittedly, Barbatos probably needed help."

"I agree. It's our best bet at finding them." I exclaim, nodding my head and still holding Mammon in my arms.

Said demon lets out a heavy sigh catching both of our attentions. "I'm sorry. If I hadn't fallen then we would have been here a lot sooner." Glittering tears prickle at the corners of his eyes.

"Hush, Mammon. Your wings aren't as thick in the middle as ours. It was out of your control that the membrane would split. Everything will be okay little brother. I'll always catch you when you truly need my help." I whisper, probably the first kind words I've told him in years, but he needs it. I know that our brothers have pushed him too far and that (Y/N) is his safety net. Right now he's beyond scared, in pain, and just needs gentle words. "Not much longer now. You'll see her soon. Let's go, Lord Diavolo."

Lord Diavolo agrees with a nod of his head, and we're suddenly yanked back to the Devildom. The world swirls together to form shapes and items as the entrance hall to The Demon Lord's Castle greets us.

Before we can even get our bearings, Asmo rounds the corner and quickly spots the three of us. His eyes widen remarkably, and only then do I realize how bloody and scraped up we are. I didn't even realize my cheek was cut till now. At least the adrenaline got us here. Faster than I think I've ever seen Asmo run, he comes shooting back around the corner with a first aid kit, Levi, and Satan close behind.

"Asmo grab Mammon from Lucifer. Try to calm him down." orders Satan, taking full control of the reins.

Asmo nods and does as told. He holds Mammon's head in his lap and gently rubs his blood-coated fingers through Mammon's wet and snowy locks. Mammon slowly shifts his head and eyes up towards Asmo.

"H-Hey..." he hoarsely coughs.

"Shh, Mammon. Save your energy. She's with the doctor. Everything will be fine. Focus on me." Asmo whispers to Mammon.

I lay back down, my own wings aching from the hard flight. I can vaguely hear Satan ordering Levi around in the background. Definitely got that trait from me, but he'd kill me if he heard me admit it. Slowly, everything sinks in and I close my eyes to get a few moments of much-needed rest.

Third-person pov:

As Asmo continued to calm down Mammon, Satan quickly ordered Levi to get him some of the antiseptic and bandage wraps. Satan quickly makes his way over to Mammon to start in on his wings, until Levi stops him.

"Give him this first. It's a numbing medicine," he states simply.

Swiftly, and with much precision, Satan injects the liquid into his wing and almost immediately Mammon starts to physically relax. While assessing Mammon's condition, Satan quickly realizes that both Lucifer and Lord Diavolo are passed out cold. That cannot be good.

After a couple of minutes of tending to Mammon's wing wound, Satan then turns to Levi. "Levi. You are going to now go and carefully stitch Mammon's wing back together."

"WHAT! I-I-I-I c-can't!" exclaims the bluenette.

Satan shakes his head in impatience. "You have to. Imagine that you are sewing a costume for a convention. Asmo will talk to you and help you stay calm, but you got to do this. It's no different than your cosplay clothes. Hurry Levi."

Levi's eyes suddenly light up and become determined. "O-Okay." With that, his expert hands from years of costuming start to gently stitch the wing back together.

Meanwhile, Satan rushes over to check on Lucifer and Lord Diavolo. His sharp eyes quickly notice bleeding around Lucifer's wings, specifically the base attachment to the shoulders. Taking a surgeon's scissors, Satan carefully cuts Lucifer's shirt off. Then comes the pain of turning him over, but eventually Satan got it figured out. Around the base where the wing connects to the shoulder bones, the poor flesh was torn and bloody. Which, is an obvious indicator of extremely harsh flight conditions. Taking his own needle, Satan quickly stitches the torn flesh back together around the wings.

Then, after further assessing Lucifer's condition. He wraps a thick bandage with medical oils around the, well admittedly more bird part, base of the wings. Delicately, he finishes by wrapping some more gauze around Lucifer's entire top, shoulder to shoulder, to carefully help keep everything in place.

Afterward, Satan rushes over to check on Lord Diavolo, but he seems to just be exhausted. "Levi." Satan states.

Levi keeps his eyes focused on the wing. "Yes?"

"How are you doing?" inquires Satan.

Levi gives his head a little shake. "Fine. The wing will work, but it'll have a scar down it."

"Same with Lucifer's bases. They were so torn up that there will definitely be small scars around the base. As for Lord Diavolo, he is just utterly exhausted like the other two, but unharmed." he responds.

"Uh, guys." pipes in Asmo's smooth voice. "Beel just texted me."

"Is it about (Y/N)!?" the other two exclaim, voices full of worry.

Asmo bobs his head up and down. "He said that the doctor thinks that she will be perfectly fine. The doctor said that her fever is to fight off the cold swim and the rain, she'll be bruised where she was tied for a week at least, and he said that she should bed rest for at bare minimum a week. Other than that, Beel said that she'll be fine."

Their shoulders sag in relief, and Levi finally sets down his own needle. His expression sagging in relief. They all let out silent and breathless laughs.

"We should get these three cleaned up and in bed, but everything will be ok now," exclaims Satan with a tired laugh.

One Week Later - Sorry, these things suck, but I want to finish this chapter. The thing is is that if I continue you'd probably have another thousand words at least.

(Y/N) pov:

Waking up, the moon's tender beams greet my face through the window. A pair of arms pull me back in as I carefully try to escape from their hold.

"Mhm... stay please," whispers Lucifer. His morning voice always gets me. It's so hot!

Who knew that damaged wings mean a whole month in bed. I surely didn't, but even the stubborn, prideful, workaholic of a demon gave in to it. When he explained it out to me it made perfect sense. Since the base of his wings was injured, he would have to stay in his demon form to allow them to heal. The kicker though is that if he stood up the weight of the wings would undo the stitches. So, even the Avatar of Pride was put on bed rest with me.

Suddenly, another hand grabs onto my arms and helps Lucifer to pin me down. "I agree. Please stay." asks the greedy demon.

I gently twist in Lucifer's arms so that my eyes can meet Mammon's tired eyes. He too is on bed rest, because his injury is also on his wing. Like Lucifer, he needs to be fully transformed to heal. If he stands up and even a gust of wind that's too strong for his healing wing hits it, then the wing will re-split open.

As for me, the doctor said another week of mainly bed rest would help, except when you have two laid-up demons who won't let you go and ten other overprotective people. I'm not fully complaining though, it's just when I have bursts of energy that I want to be up and moving around.

"Alright. I'll stay, but only because you two are hurt and way too cute to resist." I said, quickly giving in and sinking into Lucifer's arms. Mammon carefully wraps his arms around the two of us and joins us.

All of a sudden, the door opens and in pours the other ten people mentioned. They come in carrying food and more changes of medical supplies. I'm always more than happy when they come and these two goofballs get checked on. After all, I do worry.

"(Y/N), dear. Sit up." gently ushers Barbatos. I do as told and he sets a tray by my thighs. "There's eggs, biscuits and gravy, and orange juice."

My mouth watered the minute he walked in it smelled so good. "Thanks a ton, Barbatos!" I thank him and quickly dig into the food. It's so good, as usual of course. Barbatos never seems to fail at anything he makes. Meanwhile, he deftly checks and changes Lucifer's and Mammon's bandages.

"(Y/N)? Do you want to go to a little cafe with me today?" inquires Beel. "It would be no more than an hour and I'd carry you if you get too tired."

Smiling, my mouth stuffed with food, I nod my head in affirmation. Of course, though, this leads to a fight about where my attention will be. I do have to give them credit though... it's a quieter fight than normal. Regardless, I think life will resume just fine, and I know I'll spend the rest of my days here. Good, because I can't imagine my life without my precious men.

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cuinnamonbun · 3 years

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I’m so sorry this took so long! I’ve been so swamped with my work and figuring out how each individual brother would react in the situation :( A bit of warning though, I’m still not quite familiar with Belphie’s character, I had to work with what little I knew of him by reading through every Belphie stan rant about him, the text messages/phone calls that we get from him and the Obey Me wikia page so I’m really sorry if I destroyed his character here >.< !!! But all of that aside, I hope that this is still enjoyable and readable to all of you :)

And of course, a massive thank you to @dawndustleo for the request!!

Big brothers’ reactions here!

Part 2 of How the Brothers React to Accidentally Falling in Love with a Devout Muslim MC (Little Brothers)

Satan

Ah, yes. Our resident academic

Satan did not like our cute lil MC when he first met them (and they him) and these two were wary of each other

Honestly, the only reason these two would even become friends in the first place is because of MC tbh

I doubt Satan would approach them willingly in the hopes of making friends. At most, he would only converse with them to add to his impressive list of connections or for his own personal gain (cough making Lucifer miserable cough)

The more he spends time with them though, Satan slowly unravels the layers that make MC the person that they are and he’d be shocked at the depth of character they present since he usually just thinks all religious people are numbskulls and mindless sheep anyway

But MC managed to surprise him by demonstrating a wisdom to them that he has yet to associate with any human. Sure, it may not be as profound as Kant’s or Nietzsche, but any questions regarding theology or morality that Satan would throw at them for fun (with the sadistic intent of watching them blunder in their answer) MC managed to answer it as honest as they could

To him, most people are predictable

Where most people would reply with a simple “i dunno”, MC did not and it was during these interrogations chatting sessions that Satan could truly admire the rawness of MC’s soul. Be it in the way they viewed the world or their thought process. Satan would be in complete awe of the world that they view through their lenses

Devout Muslims spend most of their life trying to live up to the example of their beloved Prophet Muhammad (may peace be unto him) and MC is no exception to this, their time in the Devildom would make it harder but they’d definitely hold on strong, especially with the angels there as well c:

So even if most of their answers would have something to do with God, the inherent longing and yearning in their voice would be enough to move even him

It’s this part of them that really started his infatuation with MC. They were so pure and virtuous that they were kind to even him, the sworn enemy of every believing Muslim in the world. They looked past his Wrath and understood him and his complexities that often, they would help Satan realise his own mysteries

Unlike the other brothers though, Satan was hyperconscious of MC’s choice in religion

So the second he realised he was in love with them, his sin consumes him and he would destroy anything within sight and cursing God’s name to, well, Hell

When he finally calms down, that’s when the heartache sets in for him ;(

Because even if MC reciprocates his feelings, their devotion to God would far, far outweigh their love for him and they would always choose Him over Satan

Asmodeus

Asmodeus’ idea of love had always been skewed since the minute he fell from Heaven

Maybe he did experience true love back when he was an angel, but that had been so long ago that he’d almost forgotten how it feels like

As the Avatar of Lust, Asmo’s love language is extremely physical. It doesn’t have to be inherently suggestive but even the more innocent touches like a simple hug or even hand holding could escalate into something risqué

It’s not like he intentionally sets it off too. It’s his sin!! He can’t help it if a friendly hug pitches a tent in his pants!!

Like Lucifer, Asmo would first pursue MC for less-than-pure gains

He revels in attention from anyone and anything, if that person shows the least bit of attention to him (especially sexually) he WILL feel genuinely offended, like he’s not good enough

And with MC’s piety and immunity from Asmo’s charm, he would absolutely see MC as nothing more than a goal, a forbidden fruit, or the highest win one can get in a lottery

He would amp up his seduction and sin to the max level that even his brothers had to leave the room because it was so overpowering it began to mess with their heads and I can see MC not being okay with that and this would upset them a lot

Lucifer will have to force Asmo to apologise to MC every time this happens (a lot) and though his apologies are sarcastic and obviously ingenuine, MC was always so forgiving and so kind, treating him more than just lust embodied. With their high resistance against his charms, Asmo knows that MC is genuine in their want to be his friend

And this would definitely cause his heart to palpitate and soar in happiness. Because for the first time, someone is interested in him, his person rather than his body, his looks or his status as one of the seven Demon Lords of the Devildom

The constant impure thoughts of what he wanted to do with MC once they finally fall under his charm slowly turned into wholesome ones, with him thinking of the best ways he can make them smile like that one time when he said something that was truly amusing to them

He still won’t realise this though because the change had been a slow and steady one. The only way he would realise that he is utterly besotted and head over heels for MC is when MC had accidentally tripped and fell into his arms...and he felt nothing. Well, other than genuine concern and worry of course

He would be so shocked by that fact and he would run to Satan to confirm what he already knew

When he finally comes to terms with it, he was ecstatic and a little nervous. It’s his first time loving someone other than himself and he was so, so excited to share this happy news to MC

Unfortunately, MC would be forced to turn him down as gently as they could, explaining the reasons why. I would imagine it would hurt for MC to do this because they would never ever want to cause him pain 🥺

Asmo would be so shocked. Because why in hell would you ever turn him down? Because he was so sure that MC reciprocated his feelings. They were always so kind to him, so warm and gentle. Had he misread the signs?

Asmo would give them a fake smile and assure them that it’s fine, that they were much better off as friends anyway even though MC didn’t look like they believed him

Asmo would act joyful as he usually did, but his brothers and MC knew that it was all an act, and while his brothers didn’t understand what’d happened (with the exception of Satan) it would absolutely crush them to see the most joyous of the brothers so dejected, even if he’d try his best to hide it

When MC left the Devildom, Lucifer will have to deal with the influxes of bills his little brother has accumulated from the copious amounts of alcohol he consumed trying to forget about them

Beelzebub

Unlike his older brothers, Beel fell in love with MC real quick

This demon is a big sweetheart and he treasures his family a lot, so I can definitely see him falling in love with a kind MC

Devout Muslim MC would always be on the lookout to help other people wherever they go and when they found Beel sad and hungry, they gave up their lunch for him

When they found out that Beel’s stomach is just practically a black hole, MC would take it upon themselves to learn how to cook all kinds of cuisines (if they couldn’t already) just so they could keep Beel fed and to make sure he doesn’t go around eating inedible stuff

“Beel! Don’t eat that, that is a plate. Come on honey, let me go prepare you a cheeseburger or a dozen, okay?”

Beel fell in love with them right then and there

With how his brothers have had to keep up with his everlasting hunger, they would definitely give up trying to feed him because one, it’s impossible to keep up with the Avatar of Gluttony’s appetite and two, they’re demons, they don’t do Good Samaritan deeds

In order to maintain their grades AND keep up with Beel’s black hole of a stomach, MC developed a little schedule that they taped above their desk and their bed, as well as digitalized a copy in their DDD to allocate their time wisely

When Beel found out about this, he paused. He paused, then gawked, then engulfed MC in a huge hug because no one has ever done anything like that for him and just knowing the extra lengths they went for him made his heart stutter

Mammon: What the hell, MC you made all of this for Beel?????

MC: You know what they say *putting a buffet of food in front of an awed Beel* The quickest way to a man’s heart is through his stomach *pats Beel’s tummy with a smile*

Beel: *dying from blushing*

From that point on, he started following them like a lost puppy. Of course, it didn’t hurt that they constantly have little snacks on them for him but it was more so because he wanted their company

MC is patient with him and constantly smiles at him which drives his heart crazy and whenever he returns to his shared bedroom with Belphie, he always had this big dopey smile on him as he talked to Belphie about his day with MC and what they did and what MC wore and how cute they were looking at the different plush toys on display at the mall-

Belphie loves his twin but for the love of hell, please just let him sleep

But when Beel told him that he planned to confess to them, all traces of drowsiness would disappear from Belphie and he would have to explain to Beel on why that would be a bad idea

Of course Belphie would do so gently, but there was a heavy hint of urgency and worry in Belphie’s tone that Beel couldn’t ignore

That was the night Belphie would hold Beel while he cried himself to sleep :(

Despite knowing that they weren’t meant to be, Beel would still hang around them even if their mere presence would cause his heart to seize. It wasn’t their fault and Beel would never hold something like this against them. It just isn’t in his nature

Even if MC reciprocated his feelings, he would never pursue anything more with them despite his heart jumping for joy because he knew it would deeply hurt his MC in the long run

It was precisely because of his love for MC that he would let them go, even if it pained him to do so

When MC left the Devildom, Beel tried his best to continue living his life as it were before but sometimes, he felt as though he might just let his hunger and heartbreak take over him 💔

Belphegor

Being the Avatar of Sloth, Belphie is well aware of the recurring nightmares MC has had since he first killed them. But even without his status as the lord of sleep, one could notice. It was that obvious

MC suffered trauma because of him and Belphie will carry that guilt with him to the end of his days

The first few weeks, MC is notably wary of him; preferring to stick with Mammon or Lucifer during group activities, leaving the room whenever he was there and coming up with excuses to leave on the spot whenever he would sit next to them during meals

It brought him and his brothers terrible sadness to see their human change from a bright little thing to a meek little animal, trembling down to their knees. It reminded them of when MC first came to the Devildom; lost and fearful

But eventually MC would finally start interacting with Belphie; you know, a simple hello and no immediate fleeing whenever he wanders into a room. Baby steps, y’know? They would still cling to Lucifer or Mammon though

He would be so confused about it

Like, hello? I am your murderer?? Why are you trying to befriend me???

Like, this man really thought that they were going to spend the entirety of the exchange program just ignoring him. Not that he would blame them

But MC was so determined on moving past that and the least he could do was humour them

He would make sure that they were comfortable every time they interacted; which meant no sudden moves, no being an asshole to them, speaking politely to them and just giving them space in general

It won’t take long for MC to fully be comfortable around him again and trust him enough to form a pact with him

Now that MC is able to relax around him, MC and Belphie would be frequently hanging out with each other due in large part to Beelzebub who is just really, REALLY glad that his two favourite people finally like each other now 🥺🥺

In time, they would be able to trust each other enough to reveal the deepest parts of themselves to each other and the first time it happened, Belphie cried and MC...to his surprise, was not a stifling presence

They were silent as they listened to him speak, their attention rapt on him as he bared his soul to them and their presence was warm and comforting as he cried, with no judgment of any sort to be found

That was when he would truly start to fall in love with them and though he realised that MC would probably reject his advances if he were to pursue anything more with them, it didn’t stop him from trying at all

He found a good human not just for himself, but also for Beel and the rest of his brothers, he wasn’t going to let them go that easily

He finally understood why his little sister sacrificed all that she was to be with her human lover and he really thought that their circumstances were similar (spoiler alert it’s not)

His love for MC was absolutely genuine, which would make this all the more terrifying because he would truly believe that what he was doing was the best thing for them

Belphie is cunning and highly manipulative, he would most definitely attempt to skew MC’s devotion to God and attempt to convince her that the Devildom has much better things to offer than the Celestial Realm

He would try his absolute hardest to get them to stay with him in their realm

“Oh, speaking of God, back when I was an angel, did you know this one time He tried to...” “Do you have to pray now? You could always do it later, you know. I mean, He is Ar-Rahim, the Most Merciful right? He’ll understand”

Devout or not, he will break through their strong will and convince MC to leave their religious path all the while pretending to support them and their religious freedom

If MC reciprocated his feelings, he would be overjoyed because this makes it a HUNDRED times easier for him to persuade them to stay with him and be with him forever

And it’s true, with his silver tongue and patience, he could absolutely crumble MC’s devotion to God if MC’s not careful

If Belphie was unsuccessful with his attempts to keep them with him forever, he would be absolutely enraged by it

“They’re MINE! You stay away from them! I am so irrevocably in love them and I REFUSE to let Him have them!”

He would probably most definitely start a war with the Celestial Realm over this

#obey me! shall we date?#obey me!#satan obey me #asmo obey me #beel obey me #belphie obey me #satan x mc obey me #asmo x mc obey me #beel x mc obey me #belphie x mc obey me #obey me x muslim!mc #muslim!mc #swd satan #swd asmodeus #swd beelzebub #swd belphegor

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sinnamonrolle · 4 years

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Looking at Leviathan

Leviathan character thoughts and what I hope counts as character analysis lol

Thinking about his character got me depressed LOL (you'll see why)

Levi is the third strongest. It seems like he’s good with magic, but I’m not too sure about his physical strength. Being a sea serpent probably also gives him an advantage in water. He even has defined abs!! Although, his physical stamina...

Levi is also the Grand Admiral for the Devildom's Navy (confirmed in a chat). If he's the Grand Admiral, then he's gotta have the stuff to back that up. He's smart enough for the role, considering how sharp his memory is when it comes to TSL, and he has the power to match it, being the third strongest in the Devildom aside from Diavolo.

But why does he hate himself so much? There's that card titled "Resentment Runs Deep" but I've never seen the Devilgram for it so my theory may or may not be accurate.

Levi calls himself a "yucky otaku" or an "otaku" like it's a horrible thing. He hates "normies" with a passion maybe because he feels like they don't understand him or perhaps... someone betrayed or hurt him.

Levi's whole thing is about friendship. He absolutely loves the friendship between the Lord of Shadows and Henry.

(He's called the Lord of Shadows because shadows are always following someone or something, and their entire existence is dependent on something else. Shadows only exist because the light was blocked by something. Shadows are caused by an absense of light.)

Levi's been a diehard anime fan since he was in Heaven. It's been thousands of years since his fall, so it's been a long time since he's been a fan of anime. His passion likely started off like normal, and like anyone with a passion, it's very hard to not talk about the things you're passionate about.

Levi has never particularly hide that he's a big time nerd, but he's also never explicitly shouted that he's an otaku (without being prompted to do so). Levi as an angel would probably be about the same, but I'd imagine much less bitter. He was even buying merch.

This might have happened at some point. Due to his passion for anime, he got bullied by other angels for it, to the point that he thinks being an otaku is a bad, unwantable thing, that he is unwanted and unlovable. Even if angels are depicted as these saintly beings, there could have been angels more extreme than Luke (I love and cherish Luke, nothing against him). They might not have bullied him, but they could have shunned him.

It would make sense why he seeks the friendship between the Lord of Shadows and Henry. They have an unbreakable bond and they're always there for each other, no matter what happens. And they understand each other, despite one being human and one being something else entirely. They come from completely different worlds yet they understand and accept each other, something that Levi desperately wants as someone with nothing to hang on to but his passion.

It would also make sense why he wishes he could have Lucifer's charm and influence. He's envious of Lucifer, the Avatar of Pride. He's not proud of who he is (yucky otaku) but he's proud of the results of his passion and hard work, because it was his, he made it, he himself did it. Having Lucifer's charm would make him desirable, someone who would be envied, and having Lucifer's influence would also mean that Levi has power that would be envied, power that he would also be able to use to his own liking regarding his passions.

Levi wants to be wanted, he wants to be envied because being envied means that he has something that other people want, that he is someone other people would respect. He lacks self worth, and I doubt his brothers caused him to lose all his self worth, which leads me to my next (conspiracy) theory.

Levi made a mistake during the Great Celestial War.

He slipped up, messed up, and he blames himself for it, thinking that he's worthless and undesirable, that no one wants him around, that he can't do anything right because he's just a nerd.

And when compared to his siblings, does he even matter? Lucifer, the pride of Heaven. Asmodeus, the jewel of Heaven. Mammon, who has such fine control over his powers, who's strong both physically and magically. And then there's Beel, Belphie, and Lilith, who were the tightest of threes, the twins of light and darkness, the beloved sister with a heart of gold. But what about Levi?

What started as doubts and teasing turns into something much darker, much more rooted and thorny than he could ever thought it could get.

When Levi got jealous at the MC for "being a bigger TSL nerd than him," he wasn't just jealous. He was angry, he was furious because how could one night of marathoning beat the many years Levi dedicated himself to TSL? How could someone just come up to him and his years of hard work, dedication, and love and tell him that his effort was not enough? How could he deal with knowing that he really is worthless, that there's nothing he can pride himself on even when he's worked so hard?

He may not be proud of himself, but he's proud of knowing that he tried harder than anyone else in loving and supporting TSL and his other series.

When he debated over which band to follow, it's because he doesn't want to betray them. He's put in love and time and effort, and just like Henry and the Lord of Shadows, he doesn't want to turn his back on someone. His resolve is real, and that's the one thing he can pride himself on.

That also means that since he followed Lucifer and rebelled against their Father, Levi never thought of their Father as a friend or as a family. He has resolved himself to Lucifer. And when Levi resolves himself to something, he never does it sloppily. He gives it his all.

He's also not used to touching and affection. With someone as touchy and affectionate as Asmo in the family (as well as being in a family of seven), it's quite hard to avoid being touched or to avoid being given affection. Maybe Levi thinks that he doesn't deserve their affection.

He's touch starved, yet he refuses to seek out other's touch because why would anyone want to touch something as disgusting as him? Why would someone as unworthy as him deserve the kindness of someone else? It's a self served punishment for what he has done, for what he is.

Levi has pets because he wants to take care of something living, and Lucifer lets him because he knows. It's both from guilt and from a desire to have a friend. It's also a reminder to himself that if he can't even take care of a pet, then what is he even good for?

#obey me #obey me swd #obey me shall we date #obey me levi #obey me leviathan #avatar of envy #swd levi #swd leviathan #l3vi #om! leviathan #leviathan #character analysis

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frankpanioncube · 4 years

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obey me 60 Questions pt 1

The questions come from: here

First Part (Second Part)

1 • What is your MC’s name? What is their name origin? What does it mean (if it ever has a meaning).

- Winter, but (Do I call her an ‘OC’ instead of an MC?). It’s my name, but in story, there’s speculation. The favourite version of events is that it’s based on the extremely pale skin she has, but that version doesn’t really track all that well - since Diavolo gave her her present form (because y’know flaming wheels with eyes is not exactly great for an exchange program). More likely Diavolo went ahead with that for the lulz. She has another name but it’s the ‘would need to remove your tongue probably and possibly uttering it would do horrible things to other organs as well’, so y’know she needed a ‘be not afraid’ form. Winter’s easy enough to remember anyway without diving into the rest of it.

2 • When is their birthday? How old are they? What about their zodiac sign? (bonus point if you give their rising or even their birth/natal chart)

- Birthday is September 6, Virgo, for all that it means. Sun rising in Virgo. Winter is much, MUCH older than Luke, but not old enough to remember the Celestial War.

3 • What is your MC’s gender? And what are their sexual/romantic preferences?

- Being an Angel, Winter is supposed to platonically love ever living creature (and does) and Heavenly Father above all else. However she seems to have a little bit of an issue keeping things that way....

Overall, Winter seems to be pansexual with strong shades of Demisexual/Demiromantic - those she has become close to seem to have relationships that are much, MUCH more nuanced than what would seem appropriate for an Angel.

Winter identifies as female and uses she/her pronouns. In her natural form it’s a ‘They/Them’ situation but in her humanesque guise, she/her seems more organic.

4 • What is your MC’s race? (human, demon, angel, other). If human, what are their nationality and origins?

- Angel...and remains so so far.... She is an ophanim and so was given a more appropriate, non-fear inducing humanesque form for use with the exchange program. So far she looks like a very-very-very-VERY pale skinned feminine presenting individual with black hair and blue eyes. She could ALMOST pass for a white person in the Human Realm...but she’s maybe just a little -too- white (not White, though perhaps a little of that too) for even a very light skinned person, and maybe her eyes are a little TOO blue (but contacts?).

5 • Before coming to Devildom, what was their occupation? (job, studies…)

- Ophanim, pulling Heavenly Father’s chariot across the Celestial Realm.

6 • Height? Weight? Describe their body type.

- QUITE short and very slight, perhaps just barely pushing 157cm and maybe looks to be somewhere in the 100-110 lb range, but this said, it’s always a shock when the little waif type can merrily scrimmage with Beel and the rest of the Fangol team.

Beel -struggles- with this; every instinct is telling him to help her put on some bulk, but on the other hand he has been on the receiving end of her tackles enough times to know she’s absolutely fully capable the way she is.

Going quite along with the ‘Demons and Angels are seriously attractive’ it wouldn’t be out of place to say Winter’s quite as attractive as any of them. Just a little -too- attractive to be human.

7 • Who is/are your MC’s love interest(s) (if they ever have one). Summarise their dynamic.

- Depending on the version of events, Beel is her main love interest and their dynamic started (and does continue) as Captain and - eventually - Co-Captain. Winter’s able to keep up with Beel physically too and he appreciates having someone he doesn’t have to hold back with his strength on. Winter can hold her own and even take him down if need be (Beel’s still stronger, but an unfocused rampaging Beel can be subdued by Winter’s strategic calm). They can get competitive for fun but ultimately are pretty cuddly and happy.

They make an even better team and Winter’s pretty ballsy for an Angel and rather willing to take part in what the Devildom has to offer - so she’s more than happy to go on little adventures (mostly food related). In addition, Winter respects the place of Belphie in their relationship and is more than happy to include him (Not in THAT way)

They really both care a great deal about one another but where their relationship falters is that Beel feels Winter does not understand what it would ultimately mean for them to stay together - they want to stay together but also Beel knows what it means to fall...

- Mammon and Winter are close (some would say ‘very close’ or ‘too close’) of friends. Winter does NOT like how Mammon’s treated (particularly by Lucifer) and defends him to the death.

Winter can temper Mammon’s wildness and impulsiveness and will put an end to schemes that go too far.

The duo is very cuddly - Beel tends not to mind all that much for two reasons - the first being that Winter is an Angel and for all that she can push the envelope of that a little, there’s certain things she won’t do - ‘cheat’ is one major one. The other is that unlike with MC, Mammon has no blushy tsundere tendencies around Winter. On the other hand, if one didn’t know the two, it would likely be a first reaction to assume that Winter and Mammon are the couple and Beel and Winter are the good friends.

In all seriousness if Beel wasn’t interested, Mammon and Winter would end up together - and it would happen the same way as their friendship. Just a very natural progression and one day everyone wakes up and they’re in a relationship.

8 • Does your MC have any specific appearance features? (Scars, marks, anything else)

- Winter has a big pair of fluffy white wings that, unlike the Demon bros. are constantly on display. They used to bother her but she’s made them work for her. Has been widely speculated (and is almost DEFINITELY probably true) that Diavolo made her look something like a storybook angel.

9 • Does your MC have any disabilities? (physical, mental health, etc). How do they deal with it?

- Winter can get severely depressed and will try to the best of her ability to hide it. She doesn’t do a good job, so she has a pretty good support network; particularly in Siemon who has had experience dealing with some of the things that can shake her generally cheerful nature.

10 • How do you imagine your MC’s voice? Describe it.

- Winter is LOUD. Justified as she is usually screaming on a Fangol field - or needing to talk over Mammon. Accent wouldn’t be terribly out of place in Northern England.

- In quieter moments where she is focused she comes across as far more stern and serious, but will change her tune pretty quickly - particularly since everyone’s favourite go-to way of teasing her is telling her she’s behaving like Lucifer (They’re not wrong actually - the two are very similar...just...don’t ever mention it to either)

11 • Does your MC have any tattoos or piercings? Just tell us more about it!

- Not a one, though she does manifest extra eyes when she’s excited or agitated. Mammon has TRIED to get her ears (her EARS!) pierced - however she just won’t.

12 • Describe their clothing style (if they have a favorite style). Do they have specific accessories Bonus question: how do they wear RAD uniform?

- Winter wears her RAD Uniform like it’s supposed to go

- Lots of sports clothes - track pants, shorts, jerseys in RAD colours

- Siemon has joked she doesn’t own a raiment.

- Asmo has PLANS to steal her for the day

- Does clean up nicely however. Goes a little pastel goth when dressed up

13 • Is your MC able to use magic? If so, are they skilled? How do they learn? Were they able to use it before coming to Devildom?

- Winter has magic being an Angel, but she, like Beel prefers to rely on her strength and presence to make her way.

- She can perform minor miracles - such include restocking the fridge when Beel empties it before MC can get to him, or putting back objects Mammon has taken. However these things come with a price (eg: Winter can replace food but would have to go without)

14 • Describe your MC’s parents (names, jobs, personalities). Do they have any siblings? What is their relationship with their family?

- Heavenly Father. We know what that guy’s about.

15 • How many language do they speak? Which ones?

- Winter’s a polyglot + Angel = knows all languages across all realms.

16 • What is their relationship with each brother?

- Lucifer: Very high suspicion and disdain where his treatment of Mammon is concerned. Does not like to admit that Lucifer’s (objectively) better qualities are also some of hers. When they do admit any grudging respect for eachother - it is in regards to their loyalty and hard work ethic. (They’ll also set aside a little time at parties - both Lucifer (for reasons of state and appearance) and Winter (she learned how to improve agility in sports) are excellent dancers.

- Mammon as above - best friends. Certainly Mammon was pretty impressed the little lower angel was intervening on behalf of his punishment, but really they just got to talking later and found they get on very well. Winter’s able to hold Mammon back a bit - but it’s no big secret - they go out somewhere and wind up talking for hours instead of whatever crazy scheme Mammon was originally planning. Have a 1001 inside jokes and also get really cuddly (Mammon won’t admit but Winter’s ‘big stupid fake wings’ are snuggly and he will find ways to comandeer them. (”Say, Asmo and Belphie were weights for Beel, how about I be yours.)

- Levi’s the Otaku, Winter’s a jock and so she doesn’t get the appeal of staying in all day. She can get a little at odds with him - as he’s one of Mammon’s prime tormentors. She also can argue with him over the realism of sports anime. Utlimately they don’t have much of a reason to talk and if Levi does show up to a group setting, it’s not in Winter’s nature to antagonize him without cause. She does however like a couple of his idol groups or at least is able to mention the songs that are on her workout playlist.

- Satan and Winter don’t ACTIVELY seek eachother out but when they do, they can get going pretty good on literature. Winter’s a decent student - but not decent enough to surpass Satan, so there’s not too much jealousy and competitiveness. What Satan DOES like about Winter is that ability to speak everything and her excellent keynote memory. If he can’t remember where something is in a book they were reading he can always ask her. Plus it doesn’t hurt that it’s no big secret she has about as much contempt for Lucifer as he does.

- Asmo and Winter - Asmo would love to take Winter shopping, get her a manicure, take her to the beauty parlor. Winter doesn’t mind the teasing (though as with Levi she will shut down the moment he starts talking smack about Mammon). She can get a little frustrated with Asmo’s incessant questions about Beel - what does he look like in the shower. What have they done together. Random advice about what their first time should be like. And pretty sure Winter’s soul left her body the day she found out he asked Beel if she had any extra eyes...er...in...-intimate places-.

Beel and Winter - See Relationship Status. In the early stages of their relationship, Winter liked Beel right away as Beel wasn’t dismissive of her showing up to Fangol tryouts. Beel was at least intrigued that this random Angel seemed as interested in it as he was - and better yet was good! He was also excited from the get go to have a friend he could roughhouse with without hurting them. Even his own brothers can’t deal with his full strength.

- Belphie and Winter - Winter’s never really -got- Belphie and his sarcasm. She understands how important a part of Beel’s life he is and very much wants him to like her personally. He does - he of course trusts his brother but it’s the fact that Winter is accepting of Beel’s presence. Even if Beel were to wind up with MC or with another individual, he’d always be a major part of Beel’s life and he wouldn’t be able to accept someone who didn’t accept him that way. If he starts treating Winter the same way he does Beel, they’ll probably really get along in the end.

17 • What is their relationship with each side characters?

- Luke and Winter - Winter is the cool older Sister to Luke so to speak. She’s a little younger than Siemon (or Lucifer or Michael for that matter) and he tends to listen to her (though is still not sure why exactly she’s so interested in those demons. She will tell Mammon off on his behalf too - (He’s not a chihuahua, stop that! You don’t like it much when people call you scummy, do you?). Beel is, however...well...it’s not like he SUPPORTS that relationship (but he does support that relationship.)

Siemon and Winter - Siemon is a mentor in the Devildom and he understands some of what Winter is going through. He after all has a relationship with a dear friend (once a brother) and it makes things harder when that dear friend is a fallen former angel. Siemon is pretty good - he doesn’t have to ‘parent’ Winter the way he does Luke but he cares for her well being.

- Solomon and Winter - Oh GOODNESS SOLOMON WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! That many pacts can’t be good for---Are you pacting demons to cook for us? (Cue the very sympathetically received texts fo/from Beel or Mammon every night Solomon’s on cooking duty at Purgatory Hall.) Winter’s somewhere in between blank horror and worry over the Sorcerer’s soul. Solomon is VERY aware of this and cue the subtle teasing. Winter gets frustrated with Solomon - who is cool as a cucumber about this.

Barbatos and Winter - Likely very chill - Winter doesn’t mess with the timeline and Barbatos doesn’t have any reason to get up her bum. Definitely does appreciate her relationship with Beel and Mammon both and offers foodstuffs for the both of them.Has a minor side bet going with Lord Diavolo - in .9 /10 timelines she winds up with Beel, but sometimes she winds up with Mammon. If you don’t let me look into the future let me try to guess?

Diavolo and Winter: Everyone how fucking hilarious would it be: Angel and the future/defaco ruler of the devildom dancing together? Cause that is what happens. And there is mass joy there. Winter believes he likes MC and is a bit of a shipper on deck. Winter lets Diavolo play his pranks and is happy to see the results.

18 • What is your MC’s main hobbies and passions?

- Winter is a jock and likes watching sports as well. She’s also a clever strategist, She’s actually an excellent dancer - she did it in the first place to improve her agility on the field, but she wound up enjoying it. Funnily enough it’s one of the rare and few places she actually enjoys spending time with Lucifer - he’s actually really good...and YOU try prying Beel away from the buffet table at a party. Mammon will dance...and then piss and moan about trying to work up to dancing with MC all night.

19 • Why did they end up in Devildom in the first place? What happened to them?

- Winter is deemed a little TOO rebellious for an angel, so Heavenly Father decided she should go and see what the Devildom was actually like - in the hopes of scaring her straight. Er...she um...liked it. A lot. And found a Demon she wants to stay for so THAT was a fail and a half.

20 • What is your MC’s MBTI type?

- Winter’s a definite ESTJ.

21 • Do they have pact with each bro? Do they often use their pacts? In which situations?

- Being an angel, she holds no pacts for obvious reasons.

22 • What is their favorite place in Devildom?

- The middle of the Fangol field, but sometimes when there’s no one there, or just to look at it when it’s quiet with the stadium lights on

23 • Which sin fit them the most?

- Pride. And NEVER mention it. Ever.

24 • Describe their personality.

- Loyal to a fault, generally cheerful and a dedicated friend. But that said she’s also a stickler for the rules, doesn’t bend for much and can be prejudiced. She can be easily swayed by a kind attitude (Hey it’s how she fell for Beel and became friends with Mammon)

That said the two whom she came to love are both her greatest strength of personality and her biggest downfall. It’s not that she doesn’t recognize an opportunity to punish their sins It’s simply she loves them too much and is too loyal to actually want to - hence ‘to a fault’.

Winter’s greatest sin is pride and she prides herself on keeping MC away from the temptations in the Devldom, but she doesn’t quite see her own sins in the process. In some ways, not bad but also she has her lover as a glutton and her best mate as a greedy arsrehole and she can’t see how it’s affecting her even though she’s trying.

basically a good bean but see above as well...good but trying waaaay too hard She wants to be good and the Angel everyone expects but really her real personality is defiant and still kind and cheerful but rather more attuned with Mammon.

25 • What is their moral alignment?

- It’s either Chaotic Good or Lawful Evil.

26 • Does your MC possess an object/something especially dear to their heart?

- To date there is nothing they’d not give up for another being.And if Beel or Mammon asked for it they could have an Angel’s soul....but....neither would ask.

27 • Which character(s) do they consider as their best friend(s)?

- Mammon is Winter’s best friend and if Beel didn’t want them then well, Mammon would. End of story do not pass go do not collect 200 quid.

28 • Choose a song that fits your MC.

- It’d be some kind a weird hybrid between SMF by Twisted Sister and Angel in Blue Jeans by Train.

29 • What are your MC’s religious beliefs?

- Angel’s heart is pounding right out of her over Beel.But she’s trying to keep it up. Too bad she can’t. might pound right out of her.

60 questions obey me,

#30 of my 60 questions #still love th song idea #1/2 of an idea #obey me #obey me original character

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aethelflaedladyofmercia · 4 years

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On Falling and Identity

One thing I’ve fallen out of the habit of doing is elaborate metas based on my fanfics every Wednesday. First I took a long hiatus to finish “What it Means to Be A Demon” and then I started posting it and it was angsty and that made me tired.

Plus, I’ve been posting chapters on Wednesdays, and busy enough that I couldn’t do a post and a meta.

But I have some time today, so I thought I’d share some of my thoughts on Falling and Identity. Because there’s more to “What it Means to Be A Demon” than physically and emotionally torturing Crowley (there’s that, too).

Names

One thing I think we can all agree on: the demons in Good Omens are not using the names they’d had as angels. We have plenty of examples: Cra(o)wley, Hastur, Ligur, Beelzebub, Dagon, even Satan (on the to-do list: re-watch while keeping track of various names used for the devil. I’m trying to remember where the name Lucifer is used outside Crowley’s drunken rant, and even that is a memory of their time in Heaven).

(Fun fact: when I searched the GIFs for “Good Omens Devil” one of the results I got was Gabriel, and...technically incorrect, but still accurate.)

Regardless, none of these really fit the pattern of angelic names (Gabriel, Uriel and Michael are all standard angel names; Aziraphale does fit this phonetically, but the spelling is different; Sandalphon less so, but still a traditionally angelic name). So, disregarding the possibility that angels somehow rebelled and Fell based on the names they already had, it seems clear that they chose new names after Falling.

Were they forced to change their names? Did they forget their original names? Did they voluntarily give them up? We don’t know this, but I’m sure going to speculate!

Crowley, however, is the only one we know who changes his name, from Crawly/Crawley (note it’s Crawly in the book but Crawley in the script book). It’s called attention to very early in both - the first post-Eden scene in book and show is our two maggot husbands lurking in the graveyard, and one of the first things they comment on is Crowley’s name change, “what’s he calling himself these days?”

I find it rather interesting that the demon who changed his name - something notable enough for others to comment on - is also the one who winds up the most independent, the most free-thinking, the most human.

Identity

Names and identity are tied together in Good Omens.

Most notable version of this is Dog, a terrifying hellhound who very abruptly isn’t. And the moment he changes is the moment he receives his name: in the book, his shape changes as Adam describes his ideal dog, but his personality changes at the naming; on the show, everything changes at once.

From the book: “The hound waited. This was the moment. The Naming. This would give it its purpose, its function, its identity.” (page 82)

There’s also the “Form shapes nature” passage on page 132 - in short, now that he looks like a small, yappy dog, he is a small, yappy dog. It can’t just be that simple, though - the Horsepeople (well, 3 out of 4) all spend much of the series walking around in very human bodies, yet their nature doesn’t become more human. So it’s not just being in the form, it’s accepting the form, letting the form be more than just the mask you wear.

So bring this back to the demons. On the series, we see that they have different forms in Hell and on Earth - not radically different, but the Hell version is more extreme.

Beelzebub in Hell

Beelzebub on Earth

Crowley even more so - he appears as a giant snake, as a human with snake eyes, and as...whatever that thing was at the paintball game. It was vaguely snake-y. So we know they have options for how demonic they appear. Whether by choice or some other means, Crowley’s habitual form is the most human. As a result, his actions seem to be the most human.

Importantly, while it might seem fatalistic to say “Names determine who you are, Form determines nature” - both of these are Crowley’s choice (and presumably other demons as well). He doesn’t want to look like a snake, so he doesn’t; he doesn’t think the name Crawly suits him, so he changes it. Changing his name, changing his form, creating his flash bastard persona - these are how he develops his identity. These are how he makes himself into something more than a demonic snake.

Headcanons

So now we get to the part where I explain how this ties into my story, “What it Means to Be A Demon.” I believe everything has at least been hinted at in the story so far, so I don’t feel as much like I’m spoiling my own plot.

Names were lost. I established this earlier in “Early Days,” but Crowley and the other demons can’t remember their original names, they were taken away as part of the act of Falling. For the purposes of “interpreting canon,” both options are plausible (names were taken or names were rejected), but this is the one I felt had more story potential, because it meant:

Identities were lost. This is a little tougher to explain, and I hope I’ve been able to make it clear in the story. The demons are no longer who they were as angels. They can remember their past lives...to an extent. Names and faces slide out of focus, scenes replay without context, they can’t connect things into a coherent story. And the sense of the being they were before the Fall is just...gone. They became No One.

Demons rebuilt new identities. They chose names for themselves, distinguished themselves, built up cults of personality if you will by attracting followers and supporters. Hastur and Ligur, for example, have clearly built their personalities around cruelty and intimidation, but each even has his slightly different brand, such as Hastur’s brutal honesty (a few metas have pointed out that he doesn’t lie, but his truths are extremely cruel). Appearance is also part of this - while the angels have a certain uniformity to their look, the demons each have a different take on the general theme of “humanoid but bestial.”

Demons, especially low-ranked demons, must fight to retain their identities. This is a major part of what’s going on in “What it Means to Be A Demon.” You sort of need other people to acknowledge your identity...this is something you’ve either experienced or not. Whether it’s a gender identity, a sexual orientation, a diagnosis, or just run-of-the-mill interests - when other people ignore, refuse to acknowledge or outright reject something about yourself you know to be true - it f***ing SUCKS. It makes you doubt yourself, it digs away at you, maybe it even makes you conform more to how other people think you should be, because you start to lack the strength to be who you know you should be, or makes you feel like a failure because you can’t be who they want you to be. In the story, Crowley (still Crawley, as it’s around 2400BC) is abused and tortured, but he’s also forced to take shapes based on what others ask of him; he’s told how to present, how to dress, where to go; the other demons even call him “Crawly” which sounds exactly the same but isn’t a name and trust me in these circumstances you can tell. And it wears away at him, makes him question who he is. Destroys the identity he’s built for himself

When they lose their identity, they become...something else. This is not really based on anything specific from the show, except the endless hordes of seemingly mindless demons in Hell. But if their identities are something they must fight to hold on to, what happens when they lose them? In my story, I’ve presented two options: the Nameless (basically mindless bodies who go where directed, do as told, don’t speak, don’t react, no signs that they even think), and Chaotic ones (imagine a Hellhound in human form - instead of mindless obedience, mindless violence). This is the fate that the demons - that Crowley - fight to avoid.

Crowley is not going to let this happen. I’m dead center in this story, so sorry if this is too much of a spoiler, but I did mark it Canon Compliant. The demon who makes an Arrangement with an angel, the demon swaggering around Shakespeare’s Globe, or performing daring Bastille and Nazi Church rescues, who asked for Holy Water because he was going to fight Hell if he needed to - that Crowley is not a demon under existential threat of oblivion. In “What it Means to Be A Demon,” his identity is under threat, because of the things he feels he needs to do to physically survive. But his story arc for this portion of the overall series is all about Crowley finding his identity, and forcing Hell to acknowledge it, one way or another. And over time - he changes to Crowley, he adopts Anthony and Anthony J as his names, his sense of style becomes more elaborate, more personalized, his possessions more solidly representative of his self. And, ultimately, he creates an identity that is strong enough to go against Hell.

So, those are some of my thoughts on DEMONS and FALLING and IDENTITY. I have mentioned that I have a lot of them. ;) If my ideas intrigue you (and if you have a strong stomach for angst and abuse), I hope you will check out my story! Here’s the link one more time:

Read it on AO3! (Rated T for violence, language, and potentially triggering scenes)

Here’s the whole series! (All but two stories are rated G, so if you prefer something lighter...)

#good omens meta #good omens prime #crowley #anthony j crowley #ineffable demon (crowley)#good omens hell #good omens fanfiction #good omens headcanons #ao3 link #sawdust of words #i wrote this instead of shoveling out my car #now i should probably go shovel out my car before it gets dark #oops too late

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frizz22 · 5 years

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Summons

@conejocabron: Madam Spellman prompt. Lilith panicking because she feels Zelda summoning her with urgency but when getting there Zelda is, just plain drunk.

Enjoy! Read on ao3

They’d only been in charge for a month.

A tumultuous month at that. Other covens and warlocks had tried to swoop in and swallow their little group up. Claiming it was for the best, but she and Zelda knew they just wanted the glory of saying they were now in charge of one of the more prominent Churches of Darkness.

They’d held them all off, whether with negotiations, partnerships or blunt threats; their coven held their own and grew.

Despite the progress and smooth sailing for the past week, Lilith insisted that Zelda summon her should another threat appear, not wanting to lose the precious ground they gained.

She also didn’t want to be like Lucifer who had made her terrified of summoning him simply for instructions. He’d started to lose her loyalty some time before that, then his pursuit of Sabrina alienated Lilith further. And when he’d decided to punish her because she’d summoned him, questioned him... well, Lilith didn’t intend to make the same mistakes as her predecessor and lose her greatest ally.

And.... and perhaps there was another motive behind it as well.

A more personal one Lilith refused to acknowledge. One that whispered that she cared, rather deeply, for the strong, intelligent, secretly compassionate woman.... who also happened to be absurdly beautiful.

Prior to her revealing her true nature, Lilith had few interactions with Zelda. The witch intrigued her, certainly, especially after Zelda had burst into the room, crackling with power and finished the exorcism. But beyond that, Lilith had little reason to think of her.

Until Zelda helped Lilith onto the throne.

Until she became the first high priestess in the Church of Lilith. Until they fought side by side in a variety of ways to protect what they’d both worked so hard to achieve. Until they spent hours together pouring over texts and making sweeping revisions and raising witches up within the church to the same level as warlocks. Until Lilith got to know her, hear her biting wit, learn what her laugh sounded like, acquaint herself with the curl of Zelda’s lips when she smiled.

Until she came to relish the time they got to spend together.

So, perhaps her motives for asking Zelda to summon her should trouble arise weren’t as transparent as the witch imagined; but she didn’t want any harm to come to one of the few living beings she trusted and cared for—she’d already lost too many.

First Lucifer—when he transformed into Satan, then Stolas—when he betrayed her to Lucifer and forced her to kill him, finally the sweet mortal Adam, he’d truly been Mary Wardwell’s, but Lilith had come to trust and care for him in her own way only to lose him as well. And now, well, now she had Zelda and while there was no Lucifer to steal her away, Lilith still worried something else would harm Zelda.

Zelda rarely summoned her, regardless of Lilith’s assertions. When she did summon her, the spell was always tinged with the implication that Lilith could come when she chose, that Zelda wasn’t in great need of her new Queen, she merely needed to discuss something when Lilith had the chance.

Which meant, when Lilith was lounging in her new throne late one night, going over a series of documents Zelda had recently given her, she was startled when a summoning spell came through that demanded Lilith’s immediate attention. Flying to her feet and not bothering to put her heels back on, Lilith teleported to the Spellman home, ready to lay waste to whatever had frightened Zelda enough to call her with such urgency.

Appearing in the foyer, Lilith made straight to the parlor where a fire was going, spell already in hand. Bursting into the room, she was stunned to find Zelda draped on the couch, drink in hand.

Cautiously approaching, Lilith crouched next to Zelda. “Where is it?” She whispered, thinking the woman must be in some kind of spell induced stupor.

Head lolling over, Zelda’s mouth spread into a wide smile. “Lil,” she breathed, clumsily sitting up.

Placing a steadying hand on Zelda’s shoulder, Lilith cast a quick spell to reveal anything harmful in the house and it came up empty. Confused, she turned back to Zelda. “What happened?” She insisted, checking the woman for injuries or residual magic.

“I missed you.” Zelda admitted, attempting to whisper and failing.

She blinked, nonplussed. “What?”

Slugging back the rest of her drink, Zelda set the glass aside, almost missing the side table, and took Lilith’s face in her hands, sending thrills through Lilith’s body. “I. Missed. You.” Zelda repeated, biting her lip as she stroked her thumbs over Lilith’s cheeks. “I haven’t seen you in two weeks, Lil, I wanted to see you.”

It was then Lilith registered the words. Zelda had missed her, wanted to see her, had given her a nickname... and she couldn’t fight the blush and smile that crept across her face in response. Then she realized something else.

Zelda was drunk.

There was a glaze to her normally sharp green eyes and her cheeks were rosy from the alcohol. Some of Lilith’s excitement at Zelda’s declarations and physical affection waned, it wasn’t that Zelda felt the same, she was just intoxicated…. Extremely so.

Sighing, and gently taking Zelda’s hands between her own, Lilith stood. “Zelda, how much have you had to drink?”

Face scrunching adorably, Zelda cocked her head at Lilith. “What does that have to do with anything? Can’t I just want to see you? Spend time with you?”

Carefully leveraging the redhead up and ignoring how the words made her heart ache—for surely It was the incredible amounts of alcohol speaking and not Zelda—Lilith slipped under Zelda’s arm and wrapped her own around the witch’s waist to prop her up.

“We can do that when you’re sober.” She murmured, leading Zelda to the stairs. It was slow going, the stairs, and Zelda stumbled, giggled and spouted soft, sweet sentiments the whole time they made their way to her bedroom.

Once there, Lilith waved a hand to change Zelda into the nightgown laying on the bed and gulped when she saw the dark blue silk contrasted on Zelda’s pale skin; the depth of the neckline didn’t help matters either.

Grinning, Zelda stood up from the bed where Lilith had parked her. “So eager to see me out of my normal clothes, are we?” She teased, running a finger along Lilith’s cheek and standing far too close.

Biting back a flirtatious remark, Lilith let out a strained chuckle instead. “You should sleep, Zelda.” She guided the woman back to bed.

“Oh, but there are much better ways in which this bed could be used.” Zelda purred, her hands finding Lilith’s hips and squeezing deliciously.

And Lilith almost let a ‘Satan, help me,’ fall from her lips out of habit. But she’d overthrown her old master and now had no one to pray to when she needed help resisting the tempting witch in front of her.

Deliberately removing Zelda’s hands, Lilith pulled back the covers and helped the redhead slip under the covers. “I’ll go mix up a hangover potion for you for when you wake.” It was easier to avoid Zelda’s comment completely than to try and address it without making the situation worse.

As she turned to leave, Zelda’s hand shot out and grasped her wrist. “Stay. Please?”

She paused for a moment, but finally nodded and rounded the bed to climb on top of the comforter Zelda was tucked under. Lilith laid there stiffly, unsure what to do. Normally she wouldn’t hesitate to follow someone’s leads, but this was Zelda and she didn’t want to ruin anything. The witch meant more to Lilith than a quick, if satisfying, romp.

Zelda who was on her side and facing away from Lilith, blindly reached behind her until she grasped Lilith’s arm. Zelda then tugged until Lilith rolled over and spooned her; once her arm was draped over Zelda’s waist, the redhead interlaced their fingers.

Humming contentedly, Zelda settled more heavily against Lilith. “Feels better than I imagined,” she murmured.

The comment had Lilith perking up. “What does?” She asked tentatively, scooting closer until her knees were notched behind Zelda’s completely.

Wriggling a little, Zelda adjusted her hold on Lilith’s hand and pulled her more tightly in. “This.” She sighed, drifting off almost immediately, the alcohol assisting the process.

Heart pounding, Lilith could only assume Zelda meant being held by her. Exhaling slowly, Lilith buried her nose into Zelda’s hair and tried to match her breathing with the witch’s in her arms.

At some point she must have fallen asleep as well. Because the next thing Lilith knew, she was waking up to sun streaming through the window.

It was then she noticed that during the night they had shifted. Now on her back, Lilith was stunned to find Zelda sprawled half on top of her, face pressed almost into her neck. For a moment, she considered teleporting away, avoiding the whole ‘morning after’ and hoping Zelda didn’t remember what happened. Just as she’d made up her mind to do just that, the arm Zelda had draped over her abdomen tightened.

“Don’t even think of moving.” She mumbled, her breath ghosting long Lilith’s skin making it hard to concentrate. The redhead then surprised her further by tipping her head up and placing lazy kisses along Lilith’s neck.

Swallowing roughly, Lilith loosed a shuddering exhale. “Zelda....” she managed in warning, though her hand had come up and wound into her high priestess’ red locks on its own accord.

“Hmm?” She placed a few more choice kisses along Lilith’s skin. “I already made a fool of myself last night. It seems I said many things and when I woke up next to you, I found I didn’t want to take them back.” She pulled back then to look Lilith in the eye, and, really, no one should be allowed to look so deliciously rumpled in the morning—it did things to Lilith. Zelda’s next words recaptured her attention. “Do you want me to stop?” And from the arch of her brow and the glint in her eye Lilith could tell Zelda already knew the answer.

Not one who enjoyed being predictable, though, Lilith suddenly rolled them, so Zelda was trapped beneath her. “Not at all.” She purred, leaning in to wipe the smug smile off Zelda’s face with a kiss.

NOTE: I jumped ahead on my list again. But after the last prompt I needed fluff and a lot of the prompts at the top of my list right now aren’t fluffy. Sorry! Hope you still enjoy :)

#caos #Chilling Adventures of Sabrina #Zelda Spellman #lilith #Madam Satan #zelda x lilith #madam spellman #fluff #!drunk Zelda #writing prompt #fanfiction #fanfic #ao3 #AO3 fanfic #ao3fic

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mere-mortifer-writing · 5 years

Text

His quiet whispers - Part One

Pairing: Lucifer/Reader; Lucifer/OFC

Rating: Explicit. Like, very explicit.

Summary: “So, what do you say, love? Yes or no?”, Lucifer interrupted her thoughts, oblivious, gently cupping her cheek with one hand. He stroked the skin there, seeming mesmerized by the softness of it. Fluttered and disbelieving, she huffed a laugh. “How can I say no?” she mumbled, leaning against him without realising. Her eyes languidly passed over his pretty dark eyes, down to his lips curled into half a smile, and they settled against the smooth skin of his neck like attracted by a magnet. “How could I say-”, but she couldn’t finish the sentence, because suddenly her mouth was busy kissing the skin she was just admiring, and wow, why did she hesitate, again? *** I wrote this in the middle of the night because the fantasy was so detailed in my head that I thought, “I might as well write this down”. This is shameless, reader insert sex with Lucifer. Like, that’s it, that’s the plot. Enjoy!

Tags: Oral sex; Body worship; Multiple Orgasms; Shy!Reader; Making out on the piano

You can also read it on Ao3

>> Chapter Two

She was sitting at the bar, self consciously clutching the purse close to her lap. Her friend had disappeared in the crowd a while ago, probably to dance with one the many guys present on the dance floor, so she was stuck at the bar until she came back. She had tried to go have fun by herself, but suddenly she had felt very awkward in her uncomfortable high-heels and short black dress. Too exposed - no matter that a couple of hours ago she had felt very pretty in the attire. Social anxiety is weird like that. She sipped her Cuba Libre, hoping that nobody would approach her. Well, nobody but one man. She wanted to talk with him - almost desperately, if she was being honest. Lucifer Morningstar, the owner of Lux. Her eyes were drawn to him like a stage light was following him everywhere, looking like sin in one of his many tailored suits. He had chosen a black one that particular night, and the detail had her breath stuck in her throat for some reason. Maybe because they were matching?

She scoffed at herself. Half of the people in the club were dressed in black, it’s not like it was a sign from above or anything. Fuck, she thought, dragging her eyes away from Lucifer, I’m acting like a middle schooler with a crush. That man - that devil - was just so…so magnetic, with his dark eyes and long legs; he made her want with an intensity she didn’t think she could feel about a semi-stranger. What do you truly desire?, she had heard him ask a gorgeous man the first time she saw him at his club, while walking past him. She had gotten close enough to take a deep breath of his cologne and and in her head she had answered for him: you, I desire you and she had almost said the words out loud. How embarrassing it would have been, how mortifying…He hadn’t even been talking to her, but the question got stuck in her head for weeks - that’s why she came back to Lux with her friend that night, just to get a glimpse of him again. Because of that inexplicable pull she felt towards him. The same one that the rest of the goddamned pub seem to feel.

She was so stuck in her thoughts, busy stirring the ice cubes in her drink, that she didn’t even notice someone approaching until he spoke. “Hello, there”, she heard. She recognized that British accent in a second, and a shiver went down her spine. Lucifer was leering at her from the barstool next to hers, intense dark eyes doing a once-over on her form that made her pulse skyrocket. She remembered how to talk only several second later. “Hi”, she managed to say, hating herself for how breathy she sounded already. But she couldn’t help it, he looked even more stunning up close, illuminated only in the dark fleshy lights of the dance floor. She couldn’t imagine how breathtaking he would be in the natural light. His smile grew more flirtatious, like he could read on her face what she was thinking. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before, darling. First time?” He raised his eyebrows at the question, still smiling. For a second he looked almost boyish, genuinely pleased at having worked an innuendo in a fairly innocent sentence. A shaky laughter escaped her, surprising even herself. “Uh, the second actually. You didn’t notice me the first time.” Why the fuck did I just say that,she thought, frustrated. Way to look desperate. She resisted the urge of covering her face in embarrassment, but just barely.

Lucifer just chuckled and slid closer to her, angling his face just so that she could perfectly see the elegant line of his neck. Once again, she could smell his cologne, and once again it made her feel light-headed. “That’s not the way to treat a guest as lovely as you” he drawled, sliding his gaze from her eyes, to her lips, down to her cleavage. Completely shameless, she thought. It suits him. “Let me offer you a drink to make it up to you. What’s your name, love?” She told him, and she saw him mouthing it to himself like he was savouring it. Like, and the realization made her blush more than she thought physically possible, he intended on using it later in a different context. She imagined him breathing it against her neck, her breasts, uttering it like a prayer while his long fingers explored the rest of her.

Fuck, he had said two sentences to her and she was already fantasizing about falling in bed with him.

“I’m Lucifer Morningstar, and it’s a pleasure to meet you” he said, passing her a new Cuba Libre. He didn’t comment on the fact that she obviously already knew who he was, and for that she was grateful. She was trying very hard not to make a fool out of herself. Her social awkwardness wasn’t helping in the slightest. The bartender that made her drink handed Lucifer a glass of an amber colored liquid, and the two of them clinked their drinks and took a sip; Lucifer looking like some sort of big cat studying his prey. I love cats, she thought deliriously, so attracted to the man in front of her that she could hardly see straight. She was so nervous under his scrutiny, feeling more and more self-conscious by the second, and that part of herself was at war with the other part, the one that would have let him fuck her there on the bar table if he so asked.

How, how was it possible? Where was that- that lust coming from, that mindless desire…she didn’t do this, having sex with beautiful strangers that barely knew her name, she was not wired for it…but him, oh, him, how lovely he was, so tall and elegant and- And suddenly very close to her. “Say, should we bring the conversation somewhere else? To get to know each other better, of course.” He put a strand of her hair behind her ear, peering at her from under dark eyelashes. “More intimately” he added. Her breath hitched, and he didn’t try to hide that he noticed. He was looking at her expectantly, so infuriatingly sure of himself that she imagined, for a second, how he would look like laying underneath her, with one of her hand pulling at his hair to keep him down. Ecstatic, most probably. Very pleased with himself. It was that image, more than his proposition, that gave her the courage to tilt her head so that their faces were only centimetres apart. He instinctively let his lips fell open and his hot breath mingled with hers. “And where would that be?”, she managed to ask, hands trembling and head spinning from the sheer force of her wanting. He kept his dark eyes trailed onto hers. “My penthouse, of course - just a floor away. So I can give you my undivided attention.” She swallowed. Fuck. Fuck this man, fuck his British accent and fuck his perfectly kept 5-o’clock-shadow. Her attraction was making her stomach turn into knots, but still, anxiety and self-doubt were gnarling at her. Lucifer could have anyone he wanted: people were quite literally falling over themselves to be with him, even if just for a night. She feared her relative inexperience in bed and and her nerves would annoy him; that he would spend a disappointing few hours with her before sending her on her way.

“So, what do you say, love? Yes or no?”, he interrupted her thoughts, oblivious, gently cupping her cheek with one hand. He stroked the skin there, seeming mesmerized by the softness of it. Fluttered and disbelieving, she huffed a laugh. “How can I say no?” she mumbled, leaning against him without realising. Her eyes languidly passed over his pretty dark eyes, down to his lips curled into half a smile, and they settled against the smooth skin of his neck like attracted by a magnet. “How could I say-”, but she couldn’t finish the sentence, because suddenly her mouth was busy kissing the skin she was just admiring, and wow - why did she hesitate, again? She could have been doing this for a while, pressing her face in the crook between Lucifer’s neck and shoulder, peppering wet kisses wherever she could. He was burning up, temperature so high she would have been worried about him, had she still been capable of worrying about anything. She heard him chuckle in her hair, putting his strong hands against her hips to get closer to her. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he whispered in her ear and she instinctively spread her legs to welcome him between them. Closer, she wanted him closer, she thought feverishly; inside if possible, as soon as possible. She went to pull his shirt tails out of his pants, but warm big hands took hold of hers before she managed to. She raised her face from his neck and found his heated gaze with hers, confused. Lucifer was breathing heavily - I did that, I did that, she thought, high on the feeling -, but still took a step away from her, holding one of her hands in his. She got on her feet, catching her purse before it could fall. “I appreciate the enthusiasm, trust me, but we really need to get to my apartment first”, he explained, not unkindly. Still, she suddenly felt extremely embarrassed by her actions, and all her doubts came back like they had never left. He probably noticed her expression fall, because a second later she was flash against him as he placed a heated kiss on the corner of her mouth, and then fully on her lips. He gently started moving them away from the bar, step after step, licking and biting the soft skin behind her ear with all the purpose of a man with a mission. “You’re all good, love”, he murmured, and then he said her name exactly like she had been imagining before - and she was gone again. She put her free hand in his soft, dark locks, stumbling with him toward the lift in the corner of the club. “Just-oh, fuck- please, just…”, she tried to say, struggling to form the words but needling to ask, “Stop me from thinking.” He left a last, searing hot kiss on her collarbone before lifting his head. He looked ruined, already, hair a mess from her hands and lipstick smeared all over his neck. “Don’t worry, I’m quite good at that”, he smiled - and without her realising that they had arrived, the doors of the lift opened behind her.

***

She was pressing Lucifer against a wall of the elevator, kissing him so hard he couldn’t breath, when the doors opened again on his dark penthouse. The view from the door length windows was spectacular, too bad that she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the man under her hands to appreciate it. They interrupted the kiss long enough for her to see his dilated pupils and his bitten-red lips before his tongue was firmly back in her mouth - right where it belonged, if you asked her. His hands were everywhere; palming her ass, her hips, or combing through her hair. She raised her thigh, caressing his leg in the process, and in a second he understood what she wanted: she picked her up like she weighted nothing, making her tight dress slide even further toward her waist, and the move put her core directly against him. He was so, so hard, and she felt so, so wet - and, alright, she was losing her grasp on the English language. Who could blame her.

They both moaned at the contact, her hips rolling against his without her control. Lucifer appreciated that so much that he gasped her name, breathless, and that made her grasp at his hair with more strength that she intended.

Suddenly he was moving, and before she knew it he was letting her sit on a cold wooden table - no, not a table, a piano, like the one he had downstairs. Was he gonna fuck her on his piano?

Oh, yes please, she thought, and she felt herself get even wetter, so much so that she had probably soaked through her panties.

Lucifer kissed her again, biting softly her bottom lip before soothing the area with his tongue. She was suddenly offended that he was still wearing clothes, and she tried to unbutton his shirt to get rid of it. He took off the jacket himself, never letting go of her mouth, but after a minute of her struggling with the buttons she was the one to pull off the kiss. She stayed close to him, close enough to breath in his cologne and his unnatural warmth, but her attention was all on the damned shirt buttons. Her hands were shaking too much - she even entertained the thought of tearing the shirt open, just to see and touch his chest, but she didn’t have enough strength left in her fingers for that. Lucifer let her struggle for a second before coming to her aid, undoing the shirt himself in seconds. “Are you quite alright, darling?” he asked, stroking her legs from knee to hip, getting each time closer and closer to where she really wanted him. He was pleased with himself, and not at all surprised by her strong reaction to him. He hadn’t even touched her yet and she already so wet she was dripping, hands and legs shaking. This man is sin, she thought, no wonder he has people call him the Devil.

She nodded, smiling weekly. “Yes - yes, I’m fine. ’M sorry, I’m just a bit overwhelmed.” His hands stilled on her legs, so she was quick to add: “But like good overwhelmed, not bad overwhelmed! Please…uh, please. Mh. You can keep going. If you want.” She almost cringed at her words, but Lucifer seemed happy with her earnest reaction and started playing with her dress’ straps, teasing her. “With pleasure”, he murmured against her lips, pushing her gently until she was lying completely on the piano. The new position put her core directly in line with his straining cock, and she didn’t waste a second in hooking her calves behind his ass to push him right against her. Lucifer groaned when they came in contact, and he immediately started gently rolling his hips against hers like he couldn’t help it. “You know,” he started, voice low and breathless, “you look ravishing like this, spread out and desperate for me. You look good enough to eat”. She was past words at this point, and that was all she could do to bring him down on top of her to kiss him deeply. He responded with the same passion, pushing his hips more insistently against hers. The new angle made it so that his trousers were rubbing against her clit with every move, and she was on the brink of an orgasm in seconds. She wanted to ask him to touch her, to feel how wet and ready she was for him, but words escaped her. However, when she desperately started pawing at him, Lucifer anticipated her and slipped one of his hands down between them, and he slid his fingers along her folds through her underwear. They both gasped, Lucifer moaning something against her neck that sounded suspiciously like “so fucking wet”.

His thumb circled on her clit at a delicious pace, and she felt the pleasure rise and rise with each wide stroke. She kept his head close to her chest, gasping and moaning in his hair, while he kissed and sucked the top of breasts where her dress had slipped down a bit. His hips pushed against her thigh at the same rhythm of his hand - she could feel how hard he was through his pants and boxers, but he didn’t complain. “Come on, love,” he said, nuzzling his nose between the valley of her breasts, “you’re so close, I can feel it. Just let go.” His gentleness, more than his words, brought her closer to her climax - and after another minute of delicious torture, she came shuddering in his arms.

***

She must have blacked out a second, because next thing she knew she was being picked up by a still very hard, very revved up Lucifer. He was carrying her princess style into his bedroom, a few steps away from the piano. She simultaneously felt guilty that she hadn’t made him come and disappointed that he wasn’t going to fuck her over the instrument, but she was distracted by him gently releasing her on his unmade bed. Comfortable against his silky sheets and still light headed because of her orgasm, she watched Lucifer remove his belt with a hiss.

Fuck, she was feeling more and more ashamed that she hadn’t even took off his pants and touched him a little, too busy coming her head off to notice his discomfort. It probably hurt by now, if Lucifer palming himself to find some relief was a proof. “Darling,” he said, shaking his head at her, still touching himself over his trousers. She felt anxiety twist her stomach into knots, but before she could apologize he continued: “I promised you to stop you from thinking, but you’re doing just that. Have to admit, I thought making you come would do the trick.” If she wasn’t blushed down to her chest already, those words would have done it. How did she end up in bed with this…this ridiculous, devilish man, who talked about orgasms like he was discussing his favourite type of tea? She covered her face with one hand and she heard Lucifer chuckle at her. A beat later he was climbing on the bed and on top of her, holding himself up on his elbows. “Aren’t you adorable? Anyway, my word is my bond, so-”, he rolled off of her and made himself comfortable against his many pillows, “hop on.”, he finished. And then he gestured to his face, like…like he was actually suggesting what she thought he was suggesting. Because, no way. No way he was putting off his own pleasure again to have her- “Sit on my face, if I wasn’t being clear.” He smiled like he was having the time of life, like he couldn’t wait to have her cut off his air supply. She took a deep breath and got up on shaky knees, unbelieving at how much hotter Lucifer became just because of those four words. She decided to repay him later, with interests, in whichever way she could, but for now - for now she stripped out of her dress as sexily as she could manage, trying to give the man sprawled in front of her the show he deserved. He looked at her, ecstatic, slipping a hand inside his boxers to slowly stroke himself. She got rid of her underwear, too - ruined, at that point -, and swang one of her legs over Lucifer’s chest, who immediately brought his hands to palm her ass.

He looked at her naked form above him with unfiltered awe and desire in his eyes, so raw and sincere that she managed to bite back her embarrassment and brought herself as close to his mouth as she dared. He was having none of it. He tugged her towards himself with his hands, and a second later his hot mouth was making contact with her sensitive skin. She took a sharp breath at the sensation, and Lucifer responded with a low, grumbling moan that sent shivers down her whole body and made her press more firmly on him. He was looking up at her through hooded lids, hair a complete mess from her hands, and she knew that that image of him would come back to taunt her many lonely nights in the future.

He brought her back to the present with a long stroke of his tongue, like he was trying to taste her, through her lips and up to her clit, which he started sucking on earnestly. She hissed involuntary, still too sensitive from her previous orgasm to enjoy the move, and she lift herself up to escape it. “‘M sorry, love,” he mumbled in a low voice, seemingly devastated at the loss of contact. “Come back here” - and, honestly, who could refuse a request like that? From then on he was more gentle, if not less passionate, and after he found the right rhythm of licking, sucking and occasionally plunging his tongue as deep into her as he could, she was gone. So much so that she forgot to hold at least a bit of weight off of him, but the lack of oxygen didn’t seem to disturb him, his nose pressed firmly on her clit. She was so, so close, she felt the pleasure tighten low in her belly, and one of her hands went to desperately hold tightly onto his hair. He moaned directly on her, in her, and the hands that were roaming everywhere on her body went to her ass to encourage her to grind against his face. Shocked by how much of a walking wet dream Lucifer could be, she went to do just that, chasing her release. One of his arms disappeared lower down his own body, but she was too lost in her pleasure to notice. She didn’t know how long he kept going: could have been a minute or an hour, but a firm stroke of his tongue finally made it for her - and then she was coming so hard her eyes rolled back into her head, and she couldn’t figure out even after if she had screamed his name or only sobbed it against the headboard. He licked her through the entirety of it, and then some after, to the point that she had to beg “No more, no more” to get him to stop. She collapsed right beside him on the bed before she could go boneless while still sitting on his face. “That was-that was…” she tried to say, still panting hard. She didn’t even know what she wanted to say - she suspected her major brain functions had kind of leaked out of her. “Spectacular? Unforgettable? Why thank you, you weren’t so bad yourself”, he said, so sure of himself, voice still low and grumbly from his arousal. The way the words rolled out of his tongue, in that smooth accent of his, had desire swiftly return low in her belly. And the she turned to look at him - and she was lying before, this, this image of him would never leave her until the day she fucking died, it seared its way into her brain like a hot brand: Lucifer, dark eyes reflecting the lights of the Los Angeles view, face and lips still wet and glistening with her. The urge to kiss him was so strong and sudden that she couldn’t have stopped herself if she wanted. She draped herself over his naked chest, skin so hot she had to gasp, and kissed him deeply and without reserves, tasting herself on his tongue. He seemed content just making out with her for a minute, putting strands of her hair behind her ears before holding her face close to his. Taken aback by the sudden tenderness, she took the opportunity to really appreciate his beautiful body. She slid her right hand down his neck and along the line of his broad shoulder, intending on finally touch his properly - and honestly, he deserved so much better than being ignored for so long; she desperately wanted to make him feel good. But when her hand stroked down in sternum and arrived on his stomach, her finger touch a pool of something quickly cooling in the air. She looked down, surprised, and saw that he had in fact already come without her help, pants and boxers halfway down his thighs. “Ah, yes, I’m afraid I took some of your fun away, haven’t I?” he said, not embarrassed in the slightest. He took some tissues from his bed-side table to clean himself, while she gaped at him without knowing what to say. Has he really come from just eating her out, without her touching him at all? “Did you- did you really…?” He raised his eyebrows and looked at her with a boyish smile on his face, tossing the tissues away. “You were quite hot, riding my face like that. And as I’m sure you’ve noticed,” he said, unabashed, planting a kiss her on the lips before continuing: “You taste delicious. Couldn’t help myself, really.” She blushed to the tips of her hair, breath caught in her throat at his words. “Fear not, though! I’ll be ready for you in a minute.” He quickly took all the way off his pants and underwear, leaving himself blessedly naked for her scrutiny, and he preened under her attention like he was born for the spotlight. “Just a minute?” she asked, feigning incredulity, like she hasn’t heard many stories about his incredible stamina in bed. “Of course, darling, don’t you know? I’m the Devil.” He flashed a wicked smile, rolling on top of her. “It takes way more than this to tire me out.” And then he brought his hands close to her body, caressing her ribs and then up, up, until he was cupping her breasts in feverishly hot fingers. He whispered her name, just to see her shiver, and planted on her neck a kiss so tender she fell a bit in love with him there and then. Then his lips went lower, sucking a mark above her collarbone before taking one of her nipples in her mouth. She arched against him, instinctively closing her legs around his hips to bring him closer, and she felt his cock filling up right against her inner thigh.

Lucifer was so hot to the touch, she couldn’t stop running her hands along his arms and down his back. She hesitated for a second when she felt scars under her fingertips, but he thoroughly distracted her when he switched from one breast to the other. One of his hands ran down her body, stopping for a second to caress the soft skin between hip and leg, and then he cupped her where she was still wet and hot from his earlier treatment. “Lucifer…” she gasped, bringing his face to her so she could kiss him. She slotted her lips against him - a bit sloppy, but he didn’t seem to mind. He was still just cupping her without moving his fingers. “Yes, love?”, he whispered back, smiling deviously against her lips, rolling his hips against her with a bit of urgency. He wasn’t as unaffected as he was trying to look - talk about an ego boost for her. She would have loved nothing more than see this impossible, stunning man come apart in her arms. “Please, please, touch me. I want to feel you.” she said, putting on a bit of a show for him. She pressed against his hand and bit her lower lip, infusing as much lust and desire in her eyes as she could master. It didn’t take much effort.

Judging from the low growl coming from his throat (and did his eyes just flash red?), it worked. “If you ask so nicely”, he murmured against her ear, giving her the opportunity to breathe in properly his cologne again. Two of his fingers slid inside her, easy as breathing - it didn’t surprise her, considering how turned on she was. She felt his onix ring, cold in contrast to his feverish skin, stop the easy entrance of his finger. The thought of him still wearing the probably priceless piece of jewelry while fingering her, not bothered by the fact the he was getting it all wet with her, hit her like a punch to the stomach. Why it was so erotic to her, she didn’t know, and yet it made her moan his name out loud and sink her nails in his shoulders. He seemed more that happy to take the assault.

She thought Lucifer wouldn’t hesitate a second longer to get inside of her, instead he just added a third finger and did everything in his power to make her lose her mind. He crooked his fingers to find her g spot, mouth busy sucking hickeys on her neck and breasts, and when he found something that she particularly liked - narrow, slow circles on her clit - he kept at it until she fell apart a third time in his arms. And he kept going, relentless, to make her come again, so strong and unexpected that she blacked out a second. Then, and only then, Lucifer picked her up like she weighted nothing and slid her onto his cock, letting out a low moan of her name like it tore its way out of his chest. She couldn’t do much, still shaking and almost sobbing because he’s the Devil, of course he’s the Devil, what man could ever do this to her, make her feel like this… He was driving slow and deep inside of her, so hot he felt like molten lava against her skin, and then his thrusts became more erratic and he had to close his eyes and rest his forehead on her shoulder. He was basically picking her up and letting her fall down on his lap with no help from her, and she almost felt sorry for a second - expect that it’s difficult to feel sorry about anything after coming four times in an hour. She had no strength left, and he only had himself to blame.

Lucifer put his arm more firmly around her and let himself fall forward on her. Suddenly she was on her back again, on leg on his shoulder and the other in the crook of his elbow, his eyes stuck on her breasts and how they bounced with every thrust. She couldn’t do much to help him, so she decided to just try to look pretty and enjoy the rest on the ride while Lucifer chased his own release. It didn’t take long, just enough for her to start feeling pleasure again, and after a couple of minutes and a searing hot kiss that was all tongue and teeth, he came deep inside of her. The choked off sound of her name on his lips spurred her into holding him tight against her when he tried to slip out. Lucifer collapsed on her with a breathy laugh, content to let her stroke his hair while they both calmed down. “Well” he said, looking up at her, “I’m ready for round two whenever you are, love.”

*** They didn’t have a round two. Well, not immediately at least. She did wake up few hours later, cuddled up against him, and decided to see if she could get him hard while he was sleeping. She could, so she slipped under the covers and he woke up not much later with his cock already halfway in her mouth, and she sucked him off with all the enthusiasm a man like Lucifer deserved. What she lacked in technic she made up in earnestness. They fell asleep again, not before he tried to do the same to her (“But that’s what I do, darling, a favour for a favour”), but she was still too sore and way too tired for it. He made up for it in the shower the next morning, anyway. More than once.

***

It was already late morning, and they were both getting dressed to finally start the day. Lucifer was being a gentleman, of course, but she didn’t want to overstay her welcome so after their shower together she decided to get ready to go before he had to ask her to. He was putting on a dark blue suit she has never seen him into, while she looked for her shoes somewhere near the piano. She found them near her purse by the elevator, and she remembered for the first time that last night she wasn’t at Lux alone. She took her phone out of there purse, founding 3 lost calls and six new messages for her best friend:

(01.30) - Hello???? Where tf are u?

(01.45) - Seriously im getting worried

(01:55) - YOU LEFT WITH LUCIFER, LUCIFER MORNINGSTAR

(01:55) - HOLY SHIT I CAN’T BELIEVE IT

(01:56) - asdfghjkl homegirl is gonna like, get it!!!!

(01:56) - im going home i guess lmao take some pics of his ass thanx and bye

She snickered while reading the messages, relieved that her friend found out where she was (probably from the bartender) before she got really worried. She sent her a quick message to her to let her know she was still in one piece. Mostly. She couldn’t really walk properly. (10:30) - I lived, bitch And then another, because she was in the mood for a bit of revenge: (10:30) - that’s what happens when you ditch me in the middle of a club. We could have had a threesome with him, such a wasted opportunity smh

She didn’t wait for a response and opted for putting her shoes back one - how was she going to walk in those after the night she just had, she didn’t know, but she had to manage.

Suddenly the elevator doors to the penthouse opened up, and a young woman with a long blonde ponytail walked out. “Hey, Lucifer, we’ve got- a… new case”, she finished, noticing her for the first time. “Hi”, she said, awkward as usual. She was half undressed and her hair was a mess - not really the best look to make a good first impression on someone. “Uh, hi. Is Lucifer here?” “Oh, Detective! I didn’t know you would swing by.” Talk of the Devil, she thought, while he entered the room perfectly dressed, fixing one of his cufflinks. She shifted awkwardly on her feet, and the Detective gave her a cold look. Or was it a pitying one? She couldn’t decipher it, nor she particularly cared. “Mh, I’ll leave you two to it. Thanks for- thanks for everything, Lucifer” she said, and he took a few steps in her direction to kiss her squarely on the lips. “You’re more than welcome. Come back whenever you want.”, he whispered after they broke apart. She blushed and nodded, stepping out of his presence with some effort. A quick smile to the other woman and she was already in the elevator. The last thing she heard Lucifer say was another warm, familiar “Detective”.

Aaah hope you enjoyed it! Any feedback is more than appreciated

>> Chapter Two

#lucifer #lucifer morningstar #lucifer on netflix #my writing #lucifer morningstar/reader #lucifer morningstar/ofc #smut #pwp

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magaprima · 4 years

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Part 2 Episode 3 Thoughts (post 3/?)

When we first see the cottage, from Lilith’s point of view, we see that Adam has gone home to literally cover the entire place in romantic lighting, with red candles everywhere, and then there’s all these bouquets of red roses (which he obviously went out and bought after leaving the office), and has put on some romantic-dinner sounding music, he has cleaned and tidied, and basically he has tried to make the place look amazing and romantic for her arrival and, quite frankly, seems to have gone overboard. In other posts, including my previous episode post, I said how I believe Adam suspected Mary had had an affair, and that’s why she looked so different and seemed so surprised and reluctant to see him (it’s a more much likely conclusion than Mary has been killed and this in fact the Mother of Demons who is now pretending to be her). And so he is going overboard in trying to rekindle everything, to make up for being gone so long (he does constantly reference that as if he blames himself for anything that happened due to being away), and to remind ‘Mary’ of their love for each other. Adam is clearly trying to be Mr Romantic and I think, for someone in a long term relationship with him and being a mortal, would see this room of candles and flowers and music and feel very touched, and even swept of her feet.

But we have Lilith. Who walks into this room of romance like a wild cat who is suspicious of the plate of food that has been left out for them. She calls out ‘hello?’ in a way reminiscent of victims in horror movies, and is clearly very much on guard and on edge. She’s keeping to the perimeter of the room, her back against the wall, nervous, wary and suspicious. She looks like she expects Adam to suddenly attack and I think it’s very revealing of all her previous experiences with men. Lilith remembers the first Adam (the man we all presume she’s referring to when she says ‘he was only ever cruel’) and his behaviour and the way he treated her, and we also know her ‘relationship’ with Lucifer is a violent and abusive one, and odds are most men, warlock, mortal or demon, have treated her, or at least tried, to treat her in the same abusive, dismissive way.

I mean Lilith is extremely powerful, she’s strong, she’s commanding, and yet here she is acting hesitant, defensive, all because of the sudden presence of a man being forced into her life. She has all the markers of someone who has experiences emotional, physical or sexual abuse at the hand of a man, and so is immediately like a frightened, guarded animal when dealing with any of them.

She instinctively tries to keep a distance from him, but Adam, both in believing her to be his fiancee, and also trying to rekindle a romance he fears has not grown fonder with distance, just goes over to her with the same over-eagerness he had in decorating the cottage, and kisses her almost...urgently. He seems so nervous and tense, and it all goes to support he fears he’s losing her, so he’s trying his best to remind her of their love, to hopefully win her over again. Like, hi, I love you, I tidied up, I made you dinner, please love me too.

Lilith, obviously, does not reciprocate, but the way she also doesn’t entirely fight back again tells you a lot about her experiences, how, with men, especially First Adam and Lucifer, she has learned not to fight back openly and physically as that always ends up worse. I think her experiences with violent, cruel men are part of the reason why Lilith values the subtle approach so much, because it’s also the tactic that has helped her survive and defeat so much in the past.

“Why don’t you sit down, honey, and...I’ll give you a neckrub?”

The way she suggests this, the ‘pretty wife’ voice she puts on, the expression on her face; this is exactly what she believes all men expect of the women in their lives, because over the thousands of years, that’s all she’s ever experienced herself and seen for herself. And, sure enough, Adam does agree ‘sure, we’ve got a little time to kill’, which, at this point, only proves to Lilith that Adam is just like the rest and therefore definitely needs to be killed off before she does anything else for the night.

The way she says his name, her mouth actually contorts into hate. We saw earlier how horrified she was to discover that his name was Adam, and now we’re seeing the disgust the mere mention of it makes her feel. Her memories of her time with the First Adam in the Garden are so violently horrid to her that she can’t even bear the name.

Also, as she’s massaging him, you can hear she is thinking up a cover story for his sudden disappearance ‘and you’re often out of town travelling’ she declares as she reaches down for the knitting needle she plans to stab him in the neck with. I do love how high she lifts her arm in order to thrust it into his neck, and then he gets up and she just looks so annoyed by this sudden turn of events. She is the embodiment of ‘ffs’ in that moment and I do love it. Especially when she very prettily puts the needle back.

But when Adam says ‘I’ve brought you a gift’, she doesn’t look at him wide-eyed, she doesn’t pretend to be interested, she doesn’t even roll her eyes or sigh or anything; she literally just stares solemnly. Because how often has Lucifer given her ‘gifts’ and how often have they been something that wasn’t a gift at all. Even his gift of returning Stolas to her is tainted (though she doesn’t know that yet) so I imagine it’s not the first time he has used gifts to manipulate her, in the way of, ‘i’ve got you a gift...but you can have it, once you’ve done this task’. And so she doesn’t anticipate this moment with any false excitement or honest boredom. She is just solemn. Because again, this is her learned behaviour from her experiences with men, or more specifically in this case, Lucifer.

And then to her great surprise Adam produces something she, Lilith, actually likes. She’s immediately interested, and it’s as he’s holding up this doll, that Lilith, for the very first time, is the one to close the distance between them. This is the first time we don’t see her pull back from Adam, but in fact go towards him, because, unexpectedly, he is giving her the exact kind of gift she loves. Something ‘disturbing...but also beautiful’.

She’s stood close to him and she takes the gift from him carefully, considerately, and we see the very first marks of something indefinable between them as she looks at this doll, and actually speaks entirely honestly to Adam ‘I must admit...I really love it’. She even looks at him to say it, she makes eye contact, smiles; she’s being open here, and we can physically see that, and we have never seen her be open with anyone else so far. She has known this person five minutes, and already he has done something no one else has; given her a gift she actually loves and without asking something in return. And when Adam replies ‘well I really love you’ and kisses her, she doesn’t tense up or immediately pull back like before. Her eyes do remain open, but as before they were filled with wide eyed surprise and mild horror, now they’re filled with confusion and just a hint of curiosity.

She seems to be lost in that confusion and curiosity when Adam mentions the Sweetheart’s Dance, because she’s all breathless and ‘oh, well, oh, yes’, and I think she is thinking a thousand thoughts right now; primary of them being how the hell does a mortal man turn up suddenly and manage to get her a gift she actually likes? And I do sort of headcanon, that as this is the first little moment between them, their might even be the hints of thoughts and feelings Lilith had instinctively in reaction to all this that she doesn’t quite understand, which is just adding to her confusion.

But then she realises she has a way to escape this entirely weird moment; she has to chaperone the dance. She gives the excuse of ‘I’m afraid I’m chaperoning so...’ like ah dang, guess we can’t have this night together. Because I genuinely don’t think Lilith would know what to do. She either kills him or goes through with the dinner, but killing him isn’t quite as appealing anymore, but going through the dinner means acting like Mary and doing mortal romance things, and she’s not sure she can do that either. So yay, high school dance to the rescue. Only Adam, in more of his romantic efforts, seems to think this is the perfect opportunity for them to spend time together, to dance and talk and take a walk down memory lane.

Lilith’s whole face as she stands there while he walks off, almost looks like Aurora in Sleeping Beauty when she’s told she’s actually a princess; she basically cannot believe what is fucking happening right now. She then turns to look at him and her face is literally ‘are you seriously kidding me? a high school dance is fun??’. Her eyes go back down to the doll, and we see that consideration again but then...she remembers her plans for mass murder, and that is a nice familiar feeling for Lilith, and so we see that old menacing smile. Clearly thinking that murdering half the student body will be a fun way to get her right back on track.

#episode stuff

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resilientsovl · 4 years

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BASIC INFORMATION

FULL NAME: samuel william winchester. PRONUNCIATION: pronounced how it’s spelled. MEANING: so from the hebrew name שְׁמוּאֵל, it means god has heard, or name of god. it’s a little ironic considering sam is lucifer, god’s fallen son’s, true vessel. REASONING: sam was named after his maternal grandfather, samuel campbell. NICKNAME(S): sam, sammy, little winchester, moose, 738273 other height related nicknames. PREFERRED NAME(S): sam. BIRTH DATE: may 2, 1983. AGE: honestly he’s not sure. he’s died 3-4 times, been the vessel for demons and archangels which probably stalled his physical aging too. i say he’s probably biologically somewhere around 35, even though he’s technically 47ish. ZODIAC: taurus. GENDER: cismale. PRONOUNS: he/him. ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: heteroromantic. SEXUAL ORIENTATION: bisexual. ( he can appreciate that men are attractive, has probably even slept with a couple, but has no desire to be in romantic, serious, relationships with men. ) NATIONALITY: american. ETHNICITY: wonderbread white. CURRENT LOCATION: san francisco, ca. LIVING CONDITIONS: a crappy two bedroom apartment he rents by the month. it’s small, not in a great neighborhood, but it does the trick. TITLE(S): n/a.

BACKGROUND

BIRTH PLACE: lawrence, kansas. HOMETOWN: technically lawrence kansas, but they moved around frequently. SOCIAL CLASS: blue collar. EDUCATION LEVEL: undergraduate degree from stanford. FATHER: john winchester. MOTHER: mary winchester ( neé campbell ). SIBLING(S): dean winchester, adam milligan ( half ). BIRTH ORDER: dean, sam, adam. CHILDREN: jack kline ( adopted / unofficially ) PET(S): n/a. OTHER IMPORTANT RELATIVES: bobby singer, pseudo uncle. castiel, pseudo brother / brother-in-law. SIGNIFICANT OTHER: natasha herrera, wife. ( separated ) PREVIOUS RELATIONSHIPS: jessica moore, amelia richardson, meg, sarah blake, ruby, a few one night stands, amy pond ( first kiss ), etc. ARRESTS?: a few, yes. PRISON TIME?: minimal, seen in folsom prison blues.

OCCUPATION & INCOME

PRIMARY SOURCE OF INCOME: credit card scams, illegal activity. SECONDARY SOURCE OF INCOME: n/a. TERTIARY SOURCE(S) OF INCOME: hunting, but it pays for shit. APPROXIMATE AMOUNT PER YEAR: unknown. CONTENT WITH THEIR JOB (OR LACK THERE OF)?: this is never the job he wanted. so no, definitely not. PAST JOB(S): student. SPENDING HABITS: extremely frugal, only on necessities. MOST VALUABLE POSSESSION: john winchester’s journal.

SKILLS & ABILITIES

PHYSICAL STRENGTH: peak physical condition, human, in-shape. OFFENSE: extremely skilled with weapons and hand to hand. DEFENSE: extremely skilled with lethal and non-lethal defensive moves. SPEED: faster than average. INTELLIGENCE: educated and above average. ACCURACY: above average. AGILITY: above average. STAMINA: above average. TEAMWORK: below average. he doesn’t work well with people he doesn’t know or trust. it takes time to develop a bond / ease of working with others. TALENTS: computer skills, digesting information, critical thinking skills. SHORTCOMINGS: stubborn, naive, reckless, deep psychological trauma, suicidal ideation, a nice grabbag of issues. LANGUAGE(S) SPOKEN: latin, english, probably a bunch of other old, dead, languages that might come in handy. he probably also took spanish in school. DRIVE?: yes. JUMP-STAR A CAR?: yes. CHANGE A FLAT TIRE?: yes. RIDE A BICYCLE?: yes. SWIM?: yes. PLAY AN INSTRUMENT?: no. PLAY CHESS?: yes. BRAID HAIR?: no. TIE A TIE?: yes. PICK A LOCK?: yes.

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE & CHARACTERISTICS

FACE CLAIM: jared padalecki. EYE COLOR: hazel. HAIR COLOR: brown. HAIR TYPE/STYLE: long and flowing. GLASSES/CONTACTS?: n/a. DOMINANT HAND: right. HEIGHT: 6′4 WEIGHT: 220 ish lbs. BUILD: slender but muscular. EXERCISE HABITS: rigorous. he jogs in the mornings, does sit ups / pull ups at night, and lifts weights during the day in between cases. he stays in shape. SKIN TONE: tanned. TATTOOS: anti-possession tattoo over his heart. it was carved out in 2026 but the scar has been tattooed over, replacing the original. PEIRCINGS: none. MARKS/SCARS: he’s died and come back so many times, it’s hard to say what’s still there and what’s gone. he does still have the bullet wound from where he shot chuck though. it never healed. NOTABLE FEATURES: nose, hair. USUAL EXPRESSION: smirk of disbelief, concern. CLOTHING STYLE: lumberjack lesbian. JEWELRY: he wears a chain with his wedding ring around his neck, the one he never got to put on for real. ALLERGIES: none. BODY TEMPERATURE: normal. DIET: not great. hence the need to work out. PHYSICAL AILMENTS: general fatigue from a rigorously active lifestyle.

PSYCHOLOGY

JUNG TYPE: INFJ JUNG SUBTYPE: Introvert(47%) iNtuitive (34%) Feeling(31%) Judging(38%) You have moderate preference of Introversion over Extraversion (47%) You have moderate preference of Intuition over Sensing (34%) You have moderate preference of Feeling over Thinking (31%) You have moderate preference of Judging over Perceiving (38%) ENNEAGRAM TYPE: the reformer or the challenger. MORAL ALIGNMENT: chaotic good. TEMPERAMENT: melancholic. ELEMENT: taurus are usually earth elements, but i think air suits sam better. PRIMARY INTELLIGENCE TYPE: logical-mathematical, probably. APPROXIMATE IQ: unknown. we know he scored a 174 on the LSAT, which is incredible, but that doesn’t always translate over to IQ. i would say he’s got a pretty high IQ even if he lacks a few common sense points. MENTAL CONDITIONS/DISORDERS: undiagnosed depression, anxiety, PTSD, imposter syndrome, and survivor’s guilt — and that’s just the tip of the iceberg. don’t ask me to psychoanalyze the winchesters, it’ll break us all. SOCIABILITY: he doesn’t seek it out but he can keep up with the joneses. EMOTIONAL STABILITY: not good. he has exhibited severe signs of codependency, suicidal ideation, lack of regard for his own life, and believe that he’s cursed. the boy is a mess. OBSESSION(S): vengeance after significant loss, saving people ( even if it’s from themselves ), trying to make up for all of the blood on his hands. PHOBIA(S): clowns. not a fan. ADDICTION(S): demon blood ( previously ) DRUG USE: no. ALCOHOL USE: recreationally. PRONE TO VIOLENCE?: can be, yes.

MANNERISMS

SPEECH STYLE: casual. ACCENT: american. nothing specific. QUIRKS: chewing on pen caps, tapping to songs on the radio against the steering wheel with his fingers. HOBBIES: reading, researching, pool, morning crosswords. HABITS: stress pacing, irritability under extreme pressure. NERVOUS TICKS: jaw clench, nostrils flaring, hands curled into fists. DRIVES/MOTIVATIONS: vengeance, restoring order / protecting people, survival. FEARS: losing the people he loves, hurting innocents, isolation. POSITIVE TRAITS: dependable, loyal, protective, determined, strong, honest, vulnerable. NEGATIVE TRAITS: impulsive, reckless, guilt-stricken, naive, obtuse, too trusting. SENSE OF HUMOR: dry, sarcastic. DO THEY CURSE OFTEN?: no. CATCHPHRASE(S): damnit, dean. jerk / bitch.

FAVORITES

ACTIVITY: long drives. ANIMAL: hedgehogs. BEVERAGE: monster energy drinks. BOOK: probably the classics, or something by neil gaiman. CELEBRITY: he doesn’t have one. COLOR: blue. DESIGNER: doesn’t have one. FOOD: philly cheesesteak. maybe mashed potatoes, if not the cheesesteak. FLOWER: sunflowers. GEM: none. HOLIDAY: none. MODE OF TRANSPORTATION: car. MOVIE: mallrats. MUSICAL ARTIST: none. he’ll just listen to whatever they have in the car, or is on the radio. before i think he was probably into top 40, maybe even classic rock as much as he complained about it. QUOTE/SAYING: none. SCENERY: autumn leaves falling from trees. SCENT: linen. SPORT: none. he doesn’t care. SPORTS TEAM: see above. TELEVISION SHOW: none. he probably only watches soap operas every now and then again. he doesn’t watch anything he would have to invest time and energy in. maybe pawnstars, or mythbusters. WEATHER: drizzle. VACATION DESTINATION: somewhere warm, tropic, and free of monsters.

ATTITUDES

GREATEST DREAM: to have a normal life. he knows he’ll never get it, has come to terms with the fact that he was never going to be normal. GREATEST FEAR: ending up alone, watching everyone he loves die. MOST AT EASE WHEN: around the people he loves. LEAST AT EASE WHEN: on a hunt that’s starting to go awry. WORST POSSIBLE THING THAT COULD HAPPEN: turning into a monster — the very thing he’s dedicated his life to hunting, or becoming evil. being forced into killing his own brother, or someone he loves like family, would also make the list. BIGGEST ACHIEVEMENT: in a really soft way, i want to say it’s becoming a pseudo dad to jack. it might not have been what he saw for himself, or how he imagined being a dad, but he loves the kid. if not that, maybe stopping the apocalypse. not that it lasted for very long. BIGGEST REGRET: not telling jessica the truth. he will always believe he got her killed. that guilt will set with him until the day he dies. MOST EMBARRASSING MOMENT: too many to count. BIGGEST SECRET: he remembers a lot of what the demon did when it possessed him in 2026. he fought with everything he had, but every time he broke through they pushed him back down. TOP PRIORITIES: figuring out what comes next, i suppose.

#meta.

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ahsporn · 5 years

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Cody Fern Interview for Out Nagazine

Out: What is it like to play the Antichrist?

Cody: It’s been the greatest privilege of my acting career so far. Between this and Versace, if for some reason the apocalypse came tonight, I’d be pretty happy with what I’ve done.

Out: How much did you know going into the season?

Cody: I didn’t know anything, I didn’t even know the theme, we found out when everybody else found out. We did know obviously that there had been an apocalypse, but I found out that I was playing Michael Langdon two days before we started filming. My first scene was the interrogation with Venable. All that Ryan had told me was that I’d be wearing a long, blonde wig and that I would have an affinity for capes. I went into the piece thinking I was the protagonist.

Out: Do you think that in a way, Michael is the protagonist of Apocalypse?

Cody: I think he is, but that’s from my perspective. I understand that the witches are the protagonists, particularly Cordelia. It’s in many ways a continuation of the Coven story, but running parallel is the story of how I see Michael, which is this very betrayed, broken, lost young man who finds his way into the apocalypse because of circumstance, not because of destiny.

Out: There’s a conversation of nature vs. nurture: we know from Murder House that there was evil in Michael from birth, he wouldn’t have been murdering his babysitters if there wasn't, but it’s become clear in the latter half of the season that he’s lost and is being manipulated by people with their own agendas.

Cody: We see him at 15 when he’s grown 10 years overnight, and the way that I always played Michael was that the murders are an impulse that he can’t control and he doesn’t understand. His consciousness is that of a 6-year-old boy when he’s a teenager, but he’s struggling to come to terms with his body and his desires, but he’s not fully formed. When you follow that, to me Michael’s story is a parable. There’s two ways of looking at the story of the devil: the way that people have interpreted the bible, and this polar opposite that Lucifer so loved god that he refused to bow down before men. Here we have god’s favorite angel in this kingdom of heaven, who was then made to bow down before god’s next making, and ultimately that leads to him being cast out of Heaven, and it wasn’t like Lucifer was wrong. Man then goes about destroying the earth. That’s what we’re doing right now, we’re destroying planet Earth, and it seems that there’s no remorse for it. I really leaned into that with Michael, this young boy who was cast from the kingdom of Heaven, who was cast out of the normal rigors of society, out of what people find acceptable, and then is used and abused and abandoned and broken, and what happens when you have no love in your life, where does that energy go?

Out: One of the ways I’ve been reading this season is a commentary about the state of gender politics. The warlocks essentially bring about Armageddon by attempting to topple the matriarchal power the witches have over the coven. Michael in a way is this avatar for misogyny and male entitlement. Was that intentional?

Cody: I absolutely believe that was intentional. The thing about Ryan Murphy is he’s able to weave these incredible social commentaries into this fascinating world he’s created. Certainly in this season we are looking at bringing down the patriarchy, about what happens when a matriarchal society is enforced and the hubris of men begins to take flight. It’s not dissimilar to what’s happening in society today or what has been happening for hundreds of years. Ryan certainly weaves that into his writing. The gender battle is being fought and Michael is the avatar for it but is certainly not a part of of it. He is manipulated into this gender battle but he himself is not misogynistic, but there’s certainly something to be said for the fact that he needs a very strong mother figure in his life and has mommy issues. His mother tries to kill him in the Murder House, Constance commits suicide, Cordelia takes away Mead and he has this robot who he has to program into loving him. I think he has an enormous respect for Cordelia. He needs strong women in his life, and if he just took Cordelia’s hand when she offered it, if he just overcame his insatiable thirst for revenge, he could’ve gone another way.

Out: One of the standout episodes of the season was “Return to Murder House,” what was it like to find out that not only was Jessica Lange returning but that you’d get to act opposite her?

Cody: My ovaries exploded. I can’t begin to describe to you how overwhelmed I was. The first scene I shot with Jessica was the scene where Michael finds her dead body after she’s committed suicide, and I was so excited and nervous and afraid of that scene that I spent the whole day shaking like a life. When we got to it I was so excited and overwhelmed, it was very hard for me to drop into the chaos around what I needed to go into. Sarah, who is just the most exceptional human being in the world not to mention the hardest working and the most talented, took my hand and said, “Don’t be afraid of this, you’ve got to really go there,” and then jokingly, “Imagine that at the end of this if you didn’t get it that Jessica would think you’re a bad actor.” It was terrifying! I was certainly able to move past a wall, that’s what was blocking me, I was so afraid of judgement, that wasn’t coming from Jessica of course, it was coming from myself and my own process. Working with Jessica will go down as one of my life’s greatest achievements.

Out: What was it like to not only act alongside Sarah Paulson but to be directed by her in “Return to Murder House?”

Cody: One of the greatest joys. As an actor, to step into the director’s chair, you have a certain upper hand because you understand how actors work and how to communicate with actors. Sarah very much comes from a place of absolute respect for the emotional process of the artist. First and foremost she’s looking out for you as an artist, which elicits such extraordinary performances because you have so much trust in her, so you’re willing to give her anything and everything. She’s got such a deft hand as a director, watching it was gobsmacking, and was working under the most extreme pressures imaginable. Not only was she playing Billie Dean and Cordelia in another episode in the same time as this was filming, she had to film 72 scenes. In contrast, the episode before had 32, so she was filming almost double what any other director on the series was filming, while playing two other characters in two other episodes with under one week of preparation, it was truly a feat.

Out: She certainly wears a lot of hats...speaking of which, you had a very special hat yourself. Let’s talk about that wig.

Cody: I loved that wig. If I could wear that wig on a daily basis I would. Wearing that wig was everything.

Out: How long does it take to get into the Rubber Man suit?

Cody: It takes about 20 minutes and a lot of lube, and once you’re in it you’re in it, you can’t take it off. So I was in that suit for 16 hours. I think I held the record for being in the suit the longest.

Out: Can you settle this debate: was Michael the Rubber Man suit who has sex with Gallant?

Cody: No, not physically anyway. The Rubber Man is also a demon, so when someone is wearing the suit, they become the Rubber Man, but when nobody is wearing the suit, Rubber Man — through the power of Murder House — becomes a demon, and that demon is in many aspects controlled by Langdon. Langdon uses every means at his disposal to warp and manipulate and draw out the innermost desires in a human being, he draws out their shadow self and he’s able to play with that shadow and create scenarios that tempt a person into giving into the evil inside of them. Because the Rubber Man is there and then Gallant realizes he’s killed Evie. There’s some mind games going on there in how Michael reveals Gallant’s innermost desire, which is deeply Oedipal, because we [we wonder], is he fucking his grandmother? Because the realization is that the Rubber Man is Evie and he’s just slaughtered her in his bed. There’s so many layers of darkness there. That’s certainly how I thought about it.

Out: I’m sure you can’t reveal anything about the finale tonight, but can you tease a bit about how Michael’s journey ends?

Cody: There’s something deeply beautiful and tragic about the way that the story ends for Michael. It was genuinely one of the hardest scenes that I shot in the series. The end of the series, knowing that this was going to be the last time I — I’m getting sad about it now — I loved Michael so much, the past nine days since we finished filming it have been very hard. I loved Michael so much and I wanted so much for him, I just wanted love for him. The way the series ends for Michael is very moving.

Out: Are you open to returning for another season of AHS?

Cody: Oh my god, in a heartbeat. The experience is beyond comparison. Moving forward there will hopefully be great triumphs in my career, hopefully I’ll get to play characters that are as complex and layered as Michael, but this will forever have been the most formative experience of my acting career and of my development as an artist. To work with these extraordinary women at such an early point in my career, to work with Sarah Paulson and Frances Conroy — fuck me, Frances Conroy is one of the most talented, hard working, fierce actresses. To work with Kathy Bates and Joan Collins, the list goes on and on. To be in the same room as Billy Porter, who is an American treasure. The entire experience was so exceptional and magic. I know I’ll never have that back, that moment, it’s gone. I would come back in a heartbeat.

#american horror story #ahs apocalypse

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ginnyzero · 5 years

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Books that Stand Out in my mind.

When you read a lot of books like I do, it takes quite a bit for something to stand out from the shelves and stick in your mind. A lot of books start to blur together after a while. Now, of course the books that influenced my writing stood out in my mind. If they hadn’t stood out to me, they wouldn’t be an influence now would they? But they aren’t the only books that have stayed in my head. While these books have stayed with me, they don’t necessarily correlate with what I like to write, but at the same time, taught me some extraordinary lessons about writing.

If I tried to summarize the Journey of the Catechist trilogy by Alan Dean Foster, you would probably think it is the most boring and most worn out story in existence. A noble savage is asked by a dying man to rescue a fair princess from the lair of a monster halfway across the world and bring her back to her family. Armed with his few weapons and gifts from his family and tribe, the noble savage sets out on a long and perilous journey to fulfill the man’s dying wish, with the certain knowledge that he shall die at the end of it.

Bah. How boring and tired is this plot?

See, it wasn’t the plot that had me go out and buy the rest of the books in the series. It wasn’t the plot that kept me reading. It was the world building and the adventures and what in the noble savages pack is going to get them out of their dire straits this time? The book would have been utterly boring and predictable if the setting hadn’t been so engaging and inventive.

I can be very forgiving of a predictable plot, as long as the setting and characters are interesting and fresh along the way.

I can’t remember if I bought the Angelwalk trilogy by Roger Elwood or if it was given to me. It was the second book in the trilogy, Fallen Angel that stuck with me. Fallen Angel is the story of Observer, the Chronicler of Lucifer. Observer is obsessed with seeing everything and writing it down. Lucifer encourages this because it keeps Observer by his side. Throughout the book Observer questions the rightness and morality of what Lucifer and the others are doing, but as he doesn’t participate he doesn’t fully feel he can cast judgement. (Now, I say Observer doesn’t participate, however, this is Lucifer we’re talking about and yes, Observer is called upon to take part. He just doesn’t do so under the name of Observer.) Observer is given multiple chances to repent and return to the Angels. Each time, he refuses because of his writing and in the end shares the fate of the rest of the Fallen Angels. And it is brought home that even though he was simply observing and claiming not to take a side, by doing nothing, he had chosen a side, Lucifer’s side.

The imagery in this book is not for the faint of heart. Fallen Angel is the observation of the world through the eyes of a demon. There is a point in the book where Observer has a vision or a dream depending on whether or not you believe demons sleep, about where all the victims of abortion come to him across the plains and ask Observer why he didn’t help them. Why didn’t he stop the practice? If I remember correctly, an angel (Steadfast, I think) comes and tells Observer the possibilities behind each of the babies and takes them to Heaven after giving Observer another chance to return.

The imagery of this book was very compelling, sometimes horrifying, but always compelling. In the guise of Observer, Roger Elwood had a very simple way with description and imagery that kept me turning pages. The words were clear, simple and direct but always exactly the right words needed to paint the picture Observer was seeing and stuck in my head. (I wish I had that way with words.) Perhaps, there is some irony of a writer liking a book about a writer.

The next set of books that stayed with me were written by Timothy Zahn. Now, Timothy Zahn was actually one of the few writers that I trusted in the Star Wars EU. And when it came to going through my books and keeping and getting rid of them, he was one of the author’s I kept. However, I hadn’t and still haven’t read a lot of his writing outside of Star Wars. I picked up the first book of his Conqueror’s Trilogy second hand and had to spend some time to find copies of the second and third book. (And then on my last move, I accidentally left them behind, drat. Note to self: Never, ever, ever, assume a box is empty. Ever.)

Science fiction is one of those genres that can be really hard to get into. The Conqueror’s trilogy straddled the line between “soft” science fiction and “hard” science fiction in a way that was more approachable for the moderately educated reader. They didn’t require the reader to have a degree in physics or biology to understand what was going on.

A lot of science fiction assumes that most aliens have advanced technology far beyond human’s that is usually completely mechanical and relies upon computer interfaces with binary similar to the way our technology works. This is, of course, completely and utterly ridiculous, but everyone has run with it from Isaac Asimov on down because well, it seemed the thing to do? Timothy Zahn decided to toss this idea out the window and wrote a book speculating about what would happen in humans met an alien race that used technology so completely opposite to ours that our technology actually caused their technology pain. This inability to communicate whatsoever sparks a war of misunderstanding, while the scientists on both sides of the lines scramble to figure out what the hell is going on with the other side’s technology and are mutually horrified by what they are finding.

I’ll admit that this wasn’t an easy read. I had to work to finish these books. I am more of a ‘soft’ scifi reader. Star Wars is an excellent example of the scifi I prefer, Heinlein, Asimov in moderation, the very early Frank Herbert, the non-political portions of David Weber and the satirical Robert Asprin. A lot of scifi is either far too technical (which is fine if you enjoy that type of thing) or not character driven enough to be interesting to me. The only reason I finished these books was because the concept was intriguing and interesting enough that I wanted to see how it would all turn out and if the two species could figure out how to settle their differences (which were more along the lines of, ‘hey, your technology is killing our technology’) and come to a mutual peace. Plus, there were mind meld pilots in the mix too to keep me entertained.

That is the power of a good concept. The premise of those books captured my attention and made me remember them.

The last series I want to talk about is once again by Anne Bishop. She is coming up a lot when I talk about books. This time probably not for the reason that you think. No matter how you look at it, there is a certain set way of writing. When you write a book, you have a main character (or two, or three, or half a dozen) and usually the story is told through the viewpoint(s) of them. They are the most important character(s) in the story and the reader gets to intimately (depending on point of view) know their opinions, likes, dislikes and general thoughts about the world around them. Not so in the Black Jewels trilogy by Anne Bishop.

Throughout the entire series of books set in the Black Jewels universe, not once, are we treated to the viewpoint and thoughts of the main female character the entire story revolves around, Janelle D’Angelline. We see Janelle through the lens of her father figure, her brother figure and lover. We see her through her friends and through her parents, family and her enemies, but not once are we treated to the inside of Janelle’s mind and thoughts. A lot of these viewpoints are male, which may be something of a weakness with this trilogy, giving such a strong female figure as the lead and then never using her thoughts. It is a very interesting stylistic choice. One I feel there might be two reasons for, but these are my opinions and possibly hold no weight. Either, Bishop thought that Janelle being Witch, Dreams Made Flesh of all the different races in her universe, that Janelle’s thoughts would be too alien for the reader to be able to sympathize with or, Bishop in her wisdom felt that the topics she was addressing would be way too shocking coming from the victim and decided to add a layer of “insulation” if you will for the reader. Thus, the reader would be horrified and disgusted, but not have the immediacy of the events through Janelle’s eyes.

There are other very strong female characters that Anne Bishop uses later to tell stories through. However, in her first, and major trilogy, she declines. In her later books, Anne Bishop does use a more ‘traditional’ story method, where the main central character to the story is the character we get the primary point of view from. The Black Jewels trilogy stood out in my mind simply because she declined to do so. The books, in my opinion, do not suffer because of this choice! Though sometimes I am very interested in knowing what in hell is Janelle thinking to end up with the conclusion that this has to happen. Other times, I'm extremely grateful not to be in her mind.

So, what makes an outstanding book in my mind can be almost any part of the story making process. It can be an intricate and imaginative world. It can be clear and concise imagery in word choice that sticks in the mind rather than slipping through it. It can be a compelling concept that stands apart from others. Or it can be an interesting style choice on behalf of the writer. These books are clear example of each of these ideas. Now, if there were books that managed to combine these, then we’d be closer to genius I guess.

#books #not really book recs #Fallen Angel needs content warnings #So does Anne Bishop

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thorne93 · 6 years

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Inexplicable Fate (Part 5)

Prompt: When a blinding pain overtakes you at work, what will be in store for your life when you run into the Winchesters and learn Lucifer’s son is about to be born?

Warning: Language, pain, angst, violence, fighting (verbal and physical)…fear of insanity??

Word Count: 2366

Notes: This is for @roxyspearing gif challenge. This is like a slow burn?? Idk. It’s a Jack x Reader fic (so Season 12 and 13 spoilers…) It’s LONG. So buckle in. It is slow-ish at first. But things will build to a head…Promise ;P

Beta’d by the ever fabulous @like-a-bag-of-potatoes

Forever Tags: @capsmuscles @cocosierra94 @essie1876 @magpiegirl80@letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @iamwarrenspeace @marvel-imagines-yes-please @superwholocked527 @missinstantgratification @thejemersoninferno@rda1989 @munlis @thefridgeismybestie @bubblyanarocks3 @random-fluffy-pink-unicorn @hardcollectionworldtrash @igiveupicantthinkofausername@kaliforniacoastalteens @feelmyroarrrr @kaeling @friendlyneighbourhoodweirdo

IF Tags: @iamafishandigosplish @myfamilysincarolina @ilovemyangelforever @kazuha159 @bisexualdolphinthings @mysteriouslydeliciouswerewolf @justiceiswater @millard-our-savior

Dean Winchester: @akshi8278 @mogaruke

Sam Winchester: @mogaruke @lenawiinchester

Castiel: @lenawiinchester

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So is this really uncomfortable or how does this work?” you asked as you sat on your bed and nervously rubbed your hands on your pants.

“It’s extremely painful. I basically insert my hand into your chest and--”

Your stomach lurched as you held your hand up. “Okay, no, that’s okay, I don’t need the details. Let’s just do this.”

Castiel nodded and took his place in front of you.

“And this will...tell you why I can hear what you can?” you asked, nervous.

“It will let me know if you have angelic grace in you, or if you’re mental state is impaired, or if something has happened to your soul,” he explained.

You nodded, not sure what to say or if you should ask anything else, ready to just get this over with.

“Do you have a belt or something you can bite down on?” Castiel asked as he looked around and you nodded, pointing to a chair at a little desk in your room, a handful of belts draped over the back of it. He grabbed it and came back, folding it and putting it in your mouth, the action making you scared. This pain must be beyond your comprehension if you needed something to bit down on.

“Now try to relax and if you have some place you really enjoy, try to go there mentally, because this will be incredibly unpleasant.”

You took a deep breath, trying to find a happy place to go, and then you nodded. Castiel took one last look in your eyes before he slowly slid his hand forward, and when his fingertips reached your chest, they didn’t stop at the flesh, they slid right through as if your skin, bone, and muscle weren’t even there.

The sensation was like one you’d never felt.

It felt exactly as you expected, but much, much worse. It felt as if he’d punched into your chest with a white hot iron, the heat searing your insides as they twisted. You tried to bite down, to keep from screaming but it was futile. Your mouth fell open, a visceral scream echoing from your mouth, the noise so loud it hurt your own ears.

Thrashing, your hand shot towards his arm, wanting to rip it away from you but his other arm caught your wrist, preventing you from moving further with your desire. His grip was like a statue’s, immovable and hard, he had strength like you’d never seen.

But the pain was still in your chest, making you scream, thrash, and now cry. Just when you thought you couldn’t take any more, he let you go and your body went limp before he caught you to keep you from toppling to your floor. He gently eased you back on the bed.

“Sorry about that,” he tried.

“It’s okay,” you assured with a ragged breath. “Did you see anything?”

“Yes, I did. I saw angelic grace,” he informed, frowning.

“What does that mean?” you wondered.

“Well, I’m not entirely sure. Only angels and nephilims have graces,” he said, still frowning. “You’re not an angel, and we would’ve felt when you were born, and thus, killed you.”

“What?!?” you exclaimed.

“Yes, I thought Dean and Sam had explained that to you?”

“Explained what?”

“When a nephilim is born, a child of an angel and a human, the power is so great, nothing can defeat it, so the angels have sworn for years to terminate them before they can cause any destruction.”

“That’s….awful,” you responded.

“It’s to ensure the human race and others stay in existence. It isn’t a moral matter, Y/N.”

“Maybe not to you, but I’m human, life, children, babies...Shouldn’t be killed.”

“I don’t imagine you to understand, but the fact remains, you’re somehow angelic, that explains why you can hear what we can,” he stated.

“But we don’t know why I have angel grace in me,” you confirmed.

“Right.”

A knock came at your door.

“Come in,” you called.

Sam opened the door and poked his head in. “Sorry to, uh, interrupt, but someone’s at your door and I didn’t want to answer, since it’s your house and all.”

“Oh, thanks.” You jumped up and stepped past Castiel and followed Sam out to your living room entry area, going to the door to open it and see a dark haired woman in a leather jacket and jeans. “Can I help you?”

“Yes, I seemed to have broken down and I wondered if I could use your phone?” she said sweetly and a red flag went off in your head.

What are the odds of meeting the Winchesters and an angel, and now a random woman “breaks down” in the middle of nowhere, and comes to your house. It’s too random to be random. Something felt off about it.

“I’m sorry but… could you go nextdoor? Now isn’t a good time,” you said as you started to close the door, but her hand flashed to the door and she held it where it was.

“I really need your help,” she said in a darker tone as she pushed the door back, making you stumble. Sam and Dean ran to your side but the woman waved her and and the two of them went flying, hitting your walls and making a huge hole before falling to the ground.

Panic started to rise in your chest as you backed away from her. You wanted to run to them, to comfort them, to make sure they were okay but you were frightened, frozen. You weren’t sure what running to them would help either.

Castiel emerged from your bedroom. “What are you doing here?” he asked, seeming to brace himself for a fight.

“We just want the girl, let us take her, Castiel,” she said as her eyes slid to the angel on your right.

“You can’t take her,” Castiel responded, stepping in front of you, a blade dropping out and into his hand, and she did the same.

“It doesn’t have to be this way, Castiel.”

“You’re not leaving me a choice,” he responded, a touch of sorrow in his voice as he went to lunge at her but she kicked him, hard, and with another wave, he was sent soaring across the room as well.

“Not as strong as you once were,” she mocked towards him before her eyes set on you. You turned to run but she ran towards you, her speed far surpassing yours as she grabbed you around the waist. You began kicking and screaming, thrashing, just trying to get away from her.

“Don’t struggle. I wasn’t going to hurt you, but if you force my hand,” she swore as she started pulling you out of the house.

“No!” you screamed as you tried again with all your might to get away from her. “Nooo!” you screamed again,and this time, you felt something leave your body. A presence, almost. It felt as if your own skin had left you and ballooned out around you like a cloud, or a shield.

Suddenly, you felt the woman let you go, and you turned around to find her unconscious. Once you were free, you bolted back inside your house, slammed the door and lock it as the three men approached you.

“Hey, hey, you kay? What happened?” Sam asked as he walked up and you hugged him, shaking violently and crying.

“I don’t know,” you sobbed. “I just...I was scared and there was this light, and she let go of me,” you stated, letting the story trail off. “What’s happening to me?” you asked as tears streamed down your face.

“We don’t know, kid,” Dean said.

“Dean, did you not just see that? She laid out an angel,” Sam noted, his head above yours, his chest vibrating against you as he spoke, him holding you and you holding him.

“She shouldn’t have been able to do that,” Cas noted, an almost scared tone to his voice as he eyed you.

“Ya think?” Dean quipped. “How the hell did you do that?” he demanded, frowning, almost glaring at you as he crossed his arms.

You stepped away from Sam, wiping your face with your sleeve. “I don’t know. I have no idea. I just...I was scared, that’s all. I wanted to be let go, I wanted her to let me go, and the next thing I know, she’s laid out on the ground.”

The three of them stared at you incredulously.

“I don’t know what’s going on, but she isn’t safe here,” Cas stated. “You aren’t safe here. I think the angels followed me. They know we’re here...For whatever reason, they want you.”

“And that's bad?” you questioned. Clearly it was, seeing as they tried to kidnap you, but they needed you alive or they would’ve killed you just now. And how did you knock her out?

“Any time those winged dicks wants something, it’s never good,” Dean remarked, looking around as if someone was watching or listening.

“Cas is right, Dean, She’s not safe here any more. We need to take her with us.”

“Take her with us where?” Dean asked and half a second later, he caught Sams’ expression. “Back home? To the Bunker? No. Hell no. We can’t take her.”

“Dean, what choice do we have?”

“Sam’s right,” Castiel piped up. “If the angels want her, there’s got to be a reason, and we need to figure out why. If she’s important to them, she could be important to us.”

“Has anyone forgotten that we’re trying to find Baby Satan and Mommy right now?” Dean questioned desperately, anger behind his words. “We just got out of prison yesterday. We’re still dealing with Mom and the British dicks of Letters. We can’t take Looney Tunes here with us back home, we don’t have time for it and I don’t have to time to babysit.”

“Dean!” Sam almost shouted, chastising his brother.

You took offense at his words, but he was right. They didn’t owe you anything.

“No, no, he’s right. You three have been really helpful but...you don’t have to take care of me. You don’t know me.”

“No, Y/N, you’re in danger, with angels and possibly demons, we can’t just leave you here to fend for yourself,” Sam retorted.

“That’s really sweet but I...I’ll be okay,” you assured, having no real idea how you would be okay. Sure, you laid that angel out, but you had no idea how you did it or if you could do it again. It was possibly a fluke thing, and what if more than one came the next time.

The next time...you could already tell they wouldn’t stop at one try. From what they’d told you of angels, they were persistent and deadly. This time probably wouldn’t be any different.

“No, you won’t. We don’t know what the angels want with you or why they’re after you or how you could do what you just did but you shouldn't be alone,” Sam tried and you went to say something before Dean turned his brother.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” he asked, his anger not hidden at all by his tone.

The two of them walked into the guest room and shut the door, leaving just you and Cas.

“You really don’t know how you caused Kazeel to pass out?” he questioned and you shrugged slightly.

“No. I just...wanted to be back inside with you three, I was terrified of her taking me, and...this feeling left my body.” Castiel gave a slight, small nod before you said, “Could you...I mean...Can you do that? Can you knock people out?”

“I can put people to sleep with one touch, is that what you mean?”

“I guess...I was more wondering--”

“If you have the power of an angel,” he finished.

Biting your lip, hugging yourself, you meekly nodded.

He sighed. “I do not know. I could work with you and see, but as it stands right now, i know very little about you.”

“Right...Yeah, no, I get that,” you solemnly said. Part of you knew all of this was crazy, beyond surreal. They were talking about taking you to Kansas, for how long? You had a job and a life here. You couldn’t just uproot. And yet, within the last twenty-four hours, you wanted nothing more than to join these men, learn about these abilities you were seemingly developing, talk more with Castiel, learn from him, and figure all this shit out in your head.

Sam and Dean emerged from the bedroom, Dean looking unhappy and Sam looking slightly relieved.

“Y/N, we’ve talked it over and we think you’d be safest with us at our bunker in Kansas. We have all the lore and information there. We have protection spells to keep angels and demons out. You would be undetected. We know it’s a lot to ask, but we think if we leave you here alone...you could be in grave danger. You might even be killed,” Sam said.

“What...what all would it mean?” you asked, unsure what he was saying.

“You’d come live with us, we’d work together to see why you got these powers the same day Lucifer’s child was conceived and see how and if you tie in to all of this. You can leave as soon as you get your answers, and that’s fine. We just want to help you and protect you and you might even be able to help us,” he explained.

“For how long?” you wondered.

“However long it took. You can leave at any point. We just...we think we can help each other out. You wanna know why you’ve got angel radio and now powers to attack an angel, and we need some more help on the angel front, you might be able to help us find Lucifer’s kid, since you seem to somehow be connected to him.”

It was a huge question. A lot to ask…

“Let me call my boss, I want to see if I can sort out something work-wise and I’ll let you know,” you said.

#inexplicable fate #we have a gif for that challenge #jack the nephilim #jack kline x reader #jack kline fic #jack x reader #jack spn #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #spn fic #supernatural fic

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indiavolowetrust · 4 years

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Carajillo II

SUMMARY: The sequel to Carajillo, which you can read here. A coup d'etat has been staged in the Celestial Realm. The human proposes a plan to halt the impending war.

Part One: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

Part Two: Coming Soon!

Part Three: Coming Soon!

TW: Blood, Violence, Explicit Sexual Content, Mention of Rape

PART ONE: CHAPTER THREE

I stand silently at the end of the room, my eyes flickering occasionally over the attendees of the meeting. It had only been expected for the figureheads to have some form of knowledge regarding the disastrous summit. The original representatives of the Celestial Realm, despite many attempts to contact them, are nowhere to be found. Despite the efforts to maintain peace between all three realms, a coup d’etat had been staged shortly after the summit. A partially expected consequence. With no formal peace treaty, there had been little obstruction to the desired ends of the rebellious faction -- if there had been any obstruction in the first place. And then there was the topic of Maria’s untimely expiration.

There had been little visible reaction amongst the seven figureheads in regards to the topic. Little reaction other than the stiffening of postures, mild discomfort, and in one case, buried rage. It had been obvious knowledge at that point, given the severance of the pacts between all seven brothers and the human -- but it had been difficult to mask my vexation.

Humans die all the time, I can imagine the traitorous twin remarking, his demeanor drifting dangerously close to disinterest. Lucifer and Asmodeus would speak words of assent on the matter, given the opportunity, and even Beelzebub might venture to nod. Despite the obvious impact of their sister’s death upon the seven figureheads as a whole, I still cannot bring myself to believe that they have a true grasp on the concept of death. Unforgiving, irreversible death.

Of course, I can expect no less from fallen angels.

What I had not expected, however, is the manner in which Maria has demanded the rapt attention of her audience. How she has compelled each and every demon before her to subject themselves to her mercy, her presence much greater than her physical form would suggest.

“It would be in our best interest to gather information on the faction,” Maria proposes. “Acting without knowledge of their intentions, their methods, and the nature of their structure would incur too great of a risk. We shouldn’t act blindly. We have only a handful of days before the Celestial Realm’s celebration. If it is truly an event open to all, I propose that we seize the opportunity.”

“While I agree with your reasons, I can’t imagine there are very many demons who would be willing to venture into such dangerous territory. Much less ones that would survive the trip there and back,” Lord Diavolo muses, settling back into his chair. “What you propose is something that could start a war.”

Her eyes are sharp. “Our war has already started. What I propose is a means to end it.”

Lord Diavolo pauses for a moment, contemplating her words. Perhaps considering if he should refute them or not, given her complete refusal to bend to his will. Were he more like the dormant king, she would be eaten alive for daring to oppose him. Beheaded, if the king felt more merciful that day. Drawn and quartered. Starved. Lashed. Perhaps even some odd combination of all four, depending on his mood.

Thankfully, he is nothing like his father.

Lord Diavolo sighs, conceding. “Then again, I anticipated that you had something like this in mind. You want to carry out this task yourself as well, I take it.”

She nods.

“Don’t you think they’ll recognize you?” he inquires. “If that angel was given orders to single you out, there are probably many more who know what you look like. How are you so sure they won’t identify you on sight?”

“There’s an apple tree in your garden, isn’t there? The one that lies.”

His eyes flicker briefly to one of the massive windows of the throne room, the stained glass overlooking the labyrinthine garden. “There is.”

“I would put it to good use,” she says. “I won’t be able to travel with very many through the portal, but I think it’ll be enough. Enough for me to find what I need, anyway. If -- if you would let me, that is. I can leave as soon as possible to ensure the effects aren’t lost on me.”

Lord Diavolo’s eyes narrow almost imperceptibly. “You do realize what you’re asking of me, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

For the first time, there is the hint of apprehension in her expression. Disquiet. Lord Diavolo holds her gaze for a long moment, neither of them speaking. Neither are willing to speak. Yet despite the clear imbalance of power -- a demon prince against a mere, vulnerable soul -- Maria shows no signs of wavering. She simply stands in place, her small form dwarfed by both the ill-fitting clothes and the sheer size of the throne room. Lord Diavolo’s golden eyes look upon her from his throne.

And then his visage cracks into a smile. He laughs, the resonant sound reverberating throughout the room, and Maria visibly relaxes.

“I’ve always liked that about you!” he beams, adjusting into a more casual position. “So much willpower in you, even for a human. So much moxie!”

“Moxie?” she echoes, confused.

“Yes, moxie! What those flying drivers in movies have,” he explains, making rather vague gestures with his hands. She stares. “My only condition is that you bring one of us along with you. A partner, you could say. If you’re looking to work with a demon who won’t be ripped apart by the fabric of the Celestial Realm, you’ve got the cream of the crop right here. As the prince of the Devildom, I understand your reasons to fare such a dangerous task. But as a friend, I cannot let you go alone.”

Lord Diavolo smiles warmly down at her, and Maria returns the gesture. For once, I am glad that she had been so insistent on forming such strong relations with the prince. That there had been a reason other than bothering me at inconvenient hours.

Maria’s gaze flickers around the room, lingering on each and every one of the seated figureheads. Evaluating them. While none have dared to speak thus far -- especially considering their lack of any real power in the order -- it is easy to discern the unrest. Again she shifts uncomfortably in her garments.

I follow her gaze.

Beelzebub would reveal his identity with his unnatural hunger. Belphegor would succumb to his own hatred. Asmodeus would likely accomplish nothing, as expected of his flighty, frivolous nature. He would be nothing more than a liability. Even after a millennium, Lucifer is still too noticeable. Too identifiable. He would be eradicated on sight. And Satan -- no, that one could be viable. If that one could manage to keep his rage in check, he could very well be an option. The only option.

She bites her lip, regarding Lord Diavolo. “Anyone in this room?”

“Aside from myself, of course.”

I observe the greedy one silently as his expression hardens, his rather brazen nature taking control of his outward movements. Clenched jaw, determined gaze, the anxious tapping of his fingers against his leg. That one would ultimately be too brash. Too impatient, too loud, too garish in his actions. And yet it is in his arrogance that seems to make him believe that he would be fitting for the role. Aside from Leviathan -- who I imagine would be overtaken by his own envy in the process -- Mammon is the least viable candidate for the task.

Which leaves the wrathful one. Lord Diavolo would not likely allow --

“Barbatos.”

I blink.

Lord Diavolo arches a brow. “Barbatos?”

“If -- if you would lend me his service,” she says, glancing quickly towards me. I keep my expression impassive. “You told me I could have anyone in this room.”

Lord Diavolo pauses, registering her words. “I did, yes.”

“Barbatos can control time,” she reasons. “If anything goes wrong, we can just go back and redo everything until we get it right. At least, that’s what I think.”

Lord Diavolo nods, conceding with her agreement. “Well, I can’t say I don’t agree with your reasons,” he says after a moment. He makes a point to regard me over the others, and I return his gaze. “Barbatos?”

* * *

The light of the false moon filters well over the furnishings of the lord’s office, the surface of the desk seeming to nearly emanate a luminosity of its own. Despite this, Lord Diavolo always insists on some form of interior lighting -- and so I have made the effort to ignite the few candles scattered around the room. Each flame flickers within its glass confines, ribbons of animal fat dripping down the alabaster forms. The fireplace roars with a blue and white blaze, devouring the kindling. I pass by the grate with long, easy strides, balancing both the teapot and teacup on a tray, and place the items some distance away from Lord Diavolo’s paperwork.

Our paperwork, as it would occur. I can only hope that Lord Diavolo can manage to make them convincing enough, given that he had insisted on doing forging them himself.

The lord regards me the moment I set down the tray, as if he had just noticed my presence. “Barbatos!” he addresses me, smiling. “What a lovely surprise! Thank you.”

“There is no need to thank me every time, my Lord,” I respond, taking the steaming teapot into my hands. The fragrant tea pours delicately into the teacup. “It is only my duty.”

“A duty that I still appreciate. I believe your interests suit the art of baking pastries and brewing tea a little more,” he says, leaning back in his chair. “You seem happier. Happier than the first time I met you, I would think.”

Memories of screaming demons, wretched cries of pain and desperation, and the cold blood pooling at my feet flash through my thoughts. I had not worked efficiently enough that day, the words of the traitorous demon drawn out with each snap of his extremities -- and so I had lent myself to the disgusting sensation of being submerged in his ichor. The demon king had opened the door then, the light of the torch spilling into the room. Perched at the threshold of his legacy. And behind him stood the young prince, the mop of fiery hair in contrast with the viscera-painted walls of the chamber. He had scrutinized me with curious, golden eyes, unaffected by the gore that lined the room.

The same pair of eyes that look upon me now.

“Indeed.”

Lord Diavolo takes a sip of the tea, humming in appreciation. “You’ve really outdone yourself this time,” he remarks. “This is chamomile, isn’t it? I can’t believe it took two thousand years for us to finally catch onto this. Who would have thought a human would have such good taste?”

“The human world has multitudinous biomes for growing such flora. It is only natural that they would be the ones to discover its uses.” I place the teapot gingerly back into its proper place, the bottom of the ceramic dish clinking against the metal tray. “But I will admit that her affinity for the taste led to an increase in imports.”

“She’s brash, isn’t she?” he says, returning his attention to the papers strewn before him. I move the teacup some distance away before he can forget. “But I suppose that’s how she survived here in the first place. All that fire and foxy.”

“I believe the word is moxie, my Lord.”

“Ah, yes, moxie! I have been falling behind on my studies of human culture, haven’t I?” He laughs in good humor at his own blunder. “It’s a shame they’ve been too preoccupied for consultation. Just think of how many things we could have learned about the human world by now! I believe we last left on the topic of seams. Something to do about a viney plant.”

He is deliberately avoiding the subject, I observe silently. nodding in agreement. The papers beneath his hands remain unmarked, his pen set aside. The smile on his face, while largely genuine, belies a sympathetic concern. A feat his father would have never achieved. The lord had chosen only the finest, most discreet doctors to treat his old friend over the past month, allowing her refuge within his own castle, and still her soul is weak. Still she has shown no signs of recovery from her time in limbo, the structure of her metaphysical body crumbling by the day.

It is only her willpower, it seems, that ties her to this time and place.

“Are you prepared?” he asks, placing the teacup back onto the desk. I had not realized that he had reached for it. “I went to the trouble of gathering all of them, but I believe she made a good choice. Maybe even the right one.”

I refill the teacup. “I will do as you wish.”

He lets out a sigh. “I can’t even begin to count the centuries that have passed since I took his place.” There is a note of exasperation in his tone -- much as there had been for the past two thousand years. “I will always give you a choice, Barbatos. When will you learn that?”

I remember standing over the demon king’s body. Golden, inquisitive eyes had pierced through me. An echo of his countenance in the torture chambers. He had held a hand out to me, the image stained with the black blood of his kin, and I had taken it in mine.

“Quite possibly never, my Lord.”

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