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topimagines · 6 years

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Inferno

Violence

Summary: Where do people go when they die? Well, for the least lucky people in the world, hell is waiting. But what happens when these people do go to hell? And how did you end up there?

Warning: death, hell, mentions of religion, language, smut ish, its fucking long lol, i love brendon urie

A/N: do not repost any work on this blog without explicit permission from me or Alissa. also, in case anyone is curious, I’m an atheist. I also gave a birthday for y/n because it already had a lot of insert shit. and note my not so subtle allusion to tom holland and harrison osterfield.

Part 1// Part 2//Part 3// Part 4// Part 5// Part 6// Part 7// Part 8// Part 9// Part 10

You and Tyler finally reached the floor you were staying on, the penthouse of the apartment building. The living room was very large and open, the carpet almost too white to be possible. All of the furniture was golden yellow, including the appliances in the open plan kitchen. There were two giant doors on either side of the living room, and on the farthest side from the door, there was an entire wall of glass. There was an extravagant chandelier hanging overhead, casting a yellow light on the room.

"Wow," you muttered, looking around the apartment.

"Pete definitely helped fix up the place," Tyler said in awe, he had never seen such a beautiful room in Hell. You walked further into the room before taking a seat on the lavish gold couch. “He always was good at interior design.”

"I guess we should get comfortable, we could stay for a while," you said, "and you can fill me in on some of that 'need to know' crap."

"What do you mean?" Tyler asked, taking a spot on the couch across from where you sat. He obviously knew what you were talking about, he wasn't stupid. He knew you wanted history, and possibly an explanation of everything that had happened in the last three days.

"Where is Josh, and what was he?" You asked, after a beat of silence.

Tyler's eyes widened and he looked at you in disbelief. How the fuck does she know that? He thought to himself. He took a small breath before formulating a response, "I’m not answering that.”

“So you’re back to keeping secrets?” you asked, “bullshit, Tyler! You know so much about me, tell me what the fuck happened!”

Tyler took a deep breath before sighing, “okay, fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you. It started after that car accident I told you about, and after I made it through every circle.”

Tyler walked back into the club, the music only adding to his head ache. He had to cut through the dance floor to reach Brendon, the man sitting alone at the far end of the room. His white shoes and coat were covered in blood, but somehow that wasn’t the worst thing in the dance floor of the club.

“Ah! Tyler, my boy, it’s so nice to see you! Did you do as I asked?” Brendon greeted when he reached the table.

“And then some,” Tyler answered, taking a seat across from the man in a plush, red booth.

“I knew you could do it, I fucking hate politicians,” he said, sly smirk on his face, “now, I have one more job for you, then you’re home free for a few weeks.”

“Yeah?”

“Your partner already knows all the details, he should be getting here about now,” Brendon said, “oh, look! There he is! Over here!” Brendon waved a man with yellow hair poking out from a hoodie walked over, the hood covering most of his face, but it was obvious he had a sly smile on his face, and a blade sticking out from under the waistband of the hoodie. He sat down next to Tyler and he took his hood off of the top of his head and showed his face.

“Josh?”

“Hi, Tyler,” Josh greeted. His smile wasn't the same as it used to be. Brendon seemed to be doting on Josh, bragging about his reinstatement and his natural skill that Tyler could tell was definitely not as natural as they were making it seem.

A woman walked up to Brendon, a smile on her face, “Hey, baby. Is this them?”

Brendon nodded, holding his arm out to lead the woman into his lap, “Gentlemen, this is my wife, Azrael.” Josh nodded in her direction and didn’t look her in the eyes, and Tyler said a small hi. “Azrael, this is Josh and Tyler.”

“Ah, we’ve been waiting for you both.”

“Can I finish tomorrow, I’m tired,” Tyler interrupted his own story and scratched his head, not bothering to hide his yawn, “I promise, I’ll finish it in the morning.”

“It’s only seven o’clock, Tyler,” you complained, “at least tell me what the job was.”

“Then I can go to sleep?”

“yes,” you whine.

“To take care of the overcrowding in Libitina.” You looked at him expectedly, waiting for him to further explain. But he was already laying back on the couch and pulling his hood over his head.

Cool, leave me hanging... again.

So you left the room, and went to bed.

You knew you were asleep, but you weren’t in the same spot Brendon first visited you at. You were at the entrance of a cemetery that you recognized as a very famous one in LA. You had visited it once or twice to see some famous graves.

“This is where I was buried,” a voice said. You turned and saw Brendon standing next to you with a blunt in his mouth and a black suit, as opposed to the red one you saw last time.

“Really?”

“No, I was actually buried in Las Vegas,” he stated with a chuckle. Suddenly the scene in front of you was blurry and you were in front of another cemetery, not recognizing the entrance. “oh, I’m right over here.”

“So you’re basically the ghost of Christmas past?

He chuckled, but didn’t say anything, only led you down a small trail and in front of a shiny, granite headstone. He took a long drag from his blunt and blew it toward the grave, somehow it felt like a sign of respect.

Brendon Boyd Urie

April 12, 1973- October 28, 1994

Loving Husband, Son, and Singer

“My wife, well his wife, changes my headstone if it ever erodes too much,” he stated, “she is on the fast track to heaven, so I won’t get to see her. She’s the one that found me, after I dropped like a fly.”

“Are all couples like that?” you asked, “one gets sent to hell and the other somehow never goes?”

“No, only the people you’ve met so far, sometimes both get sent to hell and they live out torture together, or they go to heaven,” Brendon explained, “And then there are the people who both go to purgatory and have a blast trying to get to heaven together. It’s like the ultimate team building exercise.” Brendon sat down at the feet of his grave, knowing that his body was decayed right under him.

“How did you die?”

“Rock star lifestyle,” he sighed, “I was a bit of a partier, and one day I got involved in the wrong shit and my body couldn’t take it.” He turned to a random stone and put out the blunt, leaving it still sort of smoldering as he backed away.

The scenery changed once again, Brendon sat in front of you this time on a headstone, “You probably don’t recognize this place, but we’re in Ohio.” Brendon moved from the headstone and showed you the name on it.

Tyler Robert Joseph

December 1, 1987- June 5, 2007

Gone too soon. God bless his soul.

“He was never blessed,” Brendon laughed, “it’s a sick irony of dying, these people don’t know we’re down there, don’t know that most of the people don’t stand a chance.”

You looked at Brendon, his eyes clouded in something you hadn’t thought would be there, ever.

Regret.

“Brendon,” you started, “what happens when hell gets too crowded?” He whipped his head to look at you, surprised by the question. “And please be honest, I’m tired of people fucking lying to me down here.”

“If they have improved over time, they have a shot to get into purgatory,” he stated, “and if they do something horrible, even for Hell, the get sent to a place called Libitina. It’s like a prison for the damned to stay and rot.”

“What qualifies as that bad?”

“Not a lot, sweetheart,” he said shortly, “we have one more stop, then you can ask all the questions you want.”

The scenery changed for a final time and you recognized immediately where you were. You wrote in your will that you wanted to be buried in a cemetery in London next to Tom. Brendon led you to the two fresh grave, grass not even grown on the patch of dirt the headstones were on.

(Y/N) (Y/M/N) (Y/L/N)

October 5, 1997- January 22, 2023

Forever resting with the love of her life

Thomas James Hosterfeld

June 1, 1996- January 22, 2023

Forever resting with the love of his life

“You got your wishes,” Brendon said, “you didn’t end up with him as your families had hoped, but I’ll tell you that he is on the third tier of Purgatory.”

“I’m glad, if anything, he deserves it,” you sighed. There was a silence between you and Brendon, and you took the moment to sit sown in the grass of the cemetery. Brendon let out a quiet chuckle and sat next to you, playing with the grass below his fingers. He took out another blunt and lit it up before inhaling the smoke.

“Want a hit?” he asked. You shook your head, waving it away.

“Is this all? You’re gonna leave me to talk to Tyler?” you asked, lowly, “all he ever does is lie to me. He never tells me anything.”

“Well, Tyler lies about a lot of things,” Brendon sighed, “he doesn’t like letting people in. But that’s his story to tell. It hasn’t always been in his favour.”

“Do you let people in?”

“If they let me in,” he answered. You looked over at him and saw him looking back at you. He leans forward and catches your lips in his, giving you a sweet yet hungry kiss. He was more tender than Tyler, taking his time to savour everything about your lips.

He trailed his kisses down your neck, quickly finding your sweet spot on your neck. You let out a moan as he nibbled on your neck, rolling your head to the side to give him more access.

“You’re killing me, sweetheart,” he said in your ear before biting lightly on your ear lobe.

“How so?” you asked, cutting it off slightly with a moan as he attacked the collar bone peaking out from under your shirt.

“I see everything, you and Tyler, the kissing, cuddling, and I hate seeing him touch you,” he said, moving his head to look you in the eye, “not when we keep having these times together at night, and he’s got you all to himself every day.”

“Then I’ll stop,” you said, “now touch me before I have to wake up and look him in the eye.” He laughed lowly, a cocky smirk appearing on his face.

“Sweetheart, you know I control these dreams. I can make them as long as I need,” he said. He reached for your hips and guided you to sit in his lap, his bulge evident as you ground down on him, “I can feel you soaking through those jeans, darling.”

“Then do something about it,” you groaned. You leaned in and nibbled just under his jawline, “do hickeys show when we wake up?”

“If you want them to, kitten,” he answered, rolling his head to the side to show more real estate as you sucked a hickey into his neck.

“Good, wanna show everyone what I did,” you moan, grinding down harder on his dress pant clad cock. Brendon’s hand wandered down into your pants, and moved your underwear out of the way to feel your wetness. You moaned when his fingers brushed over your clit.

“So wet, from just kissing your pretty neck,” he said cockily, sliding his fingers into you and pumping slowly, watching you writhe on top of him. You groaned, and reached down to unbutton your pants and pushed them down as far as you could. Brendon noticed your struggle and pushed you down so you were laying on the ground under him.

“be patient, my sweet girl, we have all the time in the world.”

You laid with Brendon in the grass, your head laying in his chest. He put back on his pants and boxers, but let you have his shirt and jacket to cover yourself after he ripped your shirt.

“Now I have to wake up without you there,” you said, tracing circles on his chest lightly, “what am I gonna say to Tyler?”

“You don’t have to say shit to him, sweetheart,” his chest rumbled as he spoke, “sure, you’ll wake up with my suit jacket and shirt on, but I set up that penthouse just for you. Say you found it in one of the drawers.”

“I’m covered in hickeys, Brendon,” you giggled.

“you fell off the bed, you’re clumsy,” he laughed. You giggled and poked his chest with your nail.

“Is it always gonna be like this when we reach you? Is that why you want me?” you asked.

“It can be whatever you want and more, baby,” he said. He started sit up, holding you so you didn’t get hurt somehow. “It’s time to wake up now, babe.”

“But I want to stay here, with you,” you whined.

“I know, but the sooner you wake up, the sooner you head out and you can see me at my club,” he said. He leaned down to kiss you before he stood up. Everything around you dissipated as he stretched his limbs.

“Will I see you again, next time?” you ask him as the wind picks up.

“Of course, baby,” he said, turning around and kneeling to meet your eyes, “and remember, Tyler doesn’t touch you anymore, my lips are the only ones that can be on you.”

“Bye, Brendon.”

You woke up in the big soft bed of the penthouse apartment, having a new appreciation for the soft sheets under your body and bunched in your hands.

You swung your feet over the edge of the bed and stood to look at yourself in the mirror that was on the closet of the room. You were, indeed, in Brendon’s suit jacket and red button up, but it didn’t look too bad on you.

In fact, you thought it was kind of cute.

You made your way out of the room and saw Tyler sprawled out on the couch, snoring lightly. You walked over and poked him in the face, “Tyler, wake up.” You attempted one more time before turning on your heel and taking the first big thing near you, a metal abstract sculpture of a human, and dropping it on the floor. Tyler jumped awake and you looked at him innocently.

“What the fuck?”

“Finish the story, no breakfast until then,” you stated. You sat on one of the couches and looked at him expectantly.

“Alright, well, Azrael told us they were expecting us.”

“You two are going to Libitina to eradicate these people,” Brendon stopped paying attention to Azrael long enough to slide a manila folder over to the boys across from him, “then do what you want. But I want my blades back when you’re done.” Brendon went back to brushing his fingers through her hair lovingly, whispering sweet nothings into her ear, and kissing her neck.

“Obviously,” Tyler said, but Josh had a look on his face that made him uncomfortable. Something told him that he would be getting into trouble like he used to when they were alive and Josh wanted to go do something crazy.

“Then one thing led to another, and Josh started a rebellion that lasted half of a decade,” Tyler explained, “he was a hell hound in a humans body. The pure personification of evil, worse than that of the devil. He wanted to overthrow Satan and free all of the Damned into earth, heaven, and purgatory.”

“Is that all?” you asked, “Where is he now?”

“Libitina.”

“The place all the bad, bad people go?” Tyler never answered. He got up and went to take a shower, not before turning to you.

“Want to come with me?” He held a hand out for you to take.

You thought for a second, knowing you promised Brendon that you would not start anything with Tyler. But it was Tyler, the man who was leading you through hell for nothing but pride, and had suffered so much. He opened up to you, even if it was poco a poco. So, you nodded with a broad smile and took his hand, letting him lead you to the big shower.

You hardly expected to be reaching the most beautiful circle of hell. You didn’t know that there was such a thing. But, you and Tyler walked down a long gravel path with green grass on either side, a large creek came into view with a man leaning against the post of a magnificent bridge of dark wood and golden railings on either side. The man was shorter than the bridge and had a black hoodie that you swore was Thrasher brand.

Hm, didn’t know they had brands in hell.

When you approached the man, you noticed that his body was covered from head to toe, including his hands, which were tucked comfortably into his pockets, and he had two feathered wings on his back, tucked so close together and compact, it was almost like he was hiding them from you.

"That's Pete, he's a harpy," Tyler explained, looking toward the man expectantly, "He's probably here to help us through the rings of Violence."

He didn’t seem to be paying attention to you as you and Tyler walked up, his head parallel with the ground, not letting you see his face. When he finally heard your footsteps, he looked up, sending shivers down your spine with his yellow eyes. When he saw you, he stood up taller and rolled his shoulders out before putting his hands together and dropping them in front of him. A stark contrast from the red-scale eyes you had seen so far. When you took a closer look, you saw small tufts of feathers poking out of the bottom of the hood.

"Hey," he greeted, looking between you and Tyler, and after a beat of silence, stuck his hand out to introduce himself, "I'm Pete, guardian of Violence. It's nice to finally meet you, my lady."

Tyler's eyes widened and he cleared his throat, hoping you wouldn’t notice his formality, "This is (Y/N), Pete. She's the girl Brendon wants."

Pete's expression matched Tyler's as he realized his mistake, "Oh, my bad. Thought you were someone else." He scratched the back of his head awkwardly and waited for Tyler to reprimand him like he used to, but nothing ever came.

"We should get walking now, we have three rings to get through at one time," Tyler said. Pete nodded and turned on his heel, leading you across the bridge. The bridge was way longer than you expected, but it the shortest ring of Violence, so you couldn’t complain about the creaking below your feet as you walked. One you had looked down, you saw creatures swimming up and down, and a large one that looked very scary. "That's Leviathan, he doesn’t like Acheron, so he stays here," Tyler explained.

"Oh cool, another hell creature I have to know about," you said, sarcastically, "what next, are there hellhounds?"

"Oh, they're in the circle Brendon occupies," Pete answered from ahead of you two, "He made them cuter."

You all walked in silence for what seemed like ages, walking across this bridge seemed easier than going through the other rings, but you knew it was too good to last. It was hell, after all. Tyler seemed to be walking on eggshells, any splashing spooked him, he refused to look up at Pete or at you and walked so cautiously that it seemed like he wasn’t even on the bridge with you. He seemed to be off in his own world.

Your mind, however, had started to wander. You thought about your life, trying to figure out what you did that sent you down here on this... adventure?

"You really shouldn’t do this, (Y/N)," Harrison said, "You love Tom, how do you think he'll react when he finds out?"

"It's just a girl, he won't care," you reasoned, looking up at Harrison with glassy eyes, your speech slightly slurred, "He has a girlfriend, if anything he should be thrilled! I'm finally getting some and forgetting about him!"

"There's a difference between forgetting about him and moving on,” Harrison muttered, “come on, (Y/N), let’s just go home and watch x-files.” He reached for your hand, but you pulled it away from him quickly and blew him off, claiming you were a big girl and you could take care of yourself.

“I’ll be fine, Harrison,” you slurred, giggling at something in your head as a girl reached for you, equally as drunk, and started to drag you away, “I’ll see you tomorrow, baby! Don’t wait up! Get some while you’re here.”

“(y/n), stop daydreaming,” Tyler said, breaking you out of your trance like state. You didn’t realize you were at the end of the bridge, and, in addition, the end of the first ring in violence. You looked ahead and saw, finally, the true reason the ring was called violence. There were people, the damned, running around picking raspberries as harpies flew over their heads, talons out, picking people up, clawing at their faces and hands.

Pete didn’t stop, he continued to lead you toward a ginormous building, completely ignoring the pleads of mercy all around you. You kept your eyes down, looking at the path under your feet.

When you looked up, finally, you saw the entrance to the building.

“Libitina, in all her glory,” Pete said, his voice bored. The doors were already open, and it looked like someone forced it open.

“Is it… supposed to look like that?” you asked. Tyler nodded, looking reminiscent.

“A long time ago, someone broke out through the doors and Brendon never bothered to fix them,” he said. Suddenly, sirens rang through the air and both Pete and Tyler stood up straight, “now, that isn’t supposed to happen.”

The boys charged in, leaving you at the door with a shocked expression. You had a feeling that you’d need to use Eveningstar. You ran in after them, but the place was far too big and you found yourself at the wrong place at the wrong time. You got lost in the winding halls, listening out for voices, but they were all drowned out by the piercing siren.

You were pulled into someone’s chest and a knife was held to your throat. A silver handle was held by a tan hand and you knew. Morningstar.

“I suggest you keep that pretty little mouth shut, unless you want to disappear,” a gravelly voice said in your ear. He turned you toward two forms, Pete and Tyler. They writhed in their spots, trying to move but they couldn’t.

“How did this happen so fast?” Pete groaned.

“revenge makes the damned powerful, Peter,” the man behind you laughed, “especially when the bitch that put me here is near.”

“What?” you asked.

“Shut up, Muriel!” the man spoke.

“That’s not Muriel, Joshua!” Tyler yelled, “Muriel would know better than to come back.”

“Then why are you guarding her, who is she?” Josh said, ending with a laugh. He truly thought you were this Muriel person.

Angel. Demon. Whatever.

Your mind reeled. Why would he thing you’re Muriel? Joshua held the blade harder against your throat, leaving you to gasp for breath without letting it cut into the skin. Joshua looked down at you, his gaze clouded with pain and loss, and when you locked eyes, he seemed thrown off. The sharpness of the blade eased up as he was sent into a whirlwind of old emotions.

"(y/n)! Do you remember the view? Remember what you said when we looked out of Joe's window together?" Tyler said from his spot, locked in place. He couldn’t move his legs to reach you. Josh must have been practicing his biokinesis after all these years. You knew exactly what he was talking about. Azrael's blade was digging into your side in this compromising position.

"I said that you almost forget we're in hell for all eternity," you answered in a weak voice. You slid one of your hands away from the hand holding a knife to your throat and down your side to the shadow-casted blade. You unsheathed it and moved it from your side to slightly poke Josh's, "We were so enthralled, we didn’t hear Joe enter the room."

How did you know how to stab Josh with this blade without killing him?

You stabbed the knife into his side and felt the blade on your neck ease up. But, you moved too quickly and the blade dug into your neck and cut you. You fell on your side, landing next to Josh, facing him.

Both you and Josh passed out. Tyler finally broke free and ran to you, pulling your body into his lap.

“No!”

“Hello, Gabriel,” you greeted the angel, smiling gently at him as he brought you in for a hug, “I missed you.” Brendon had crossed arms, watching you and his brother interact with each other. He never knew he could be the jealous type.

“I missed you too, Azrael,” Gabriel squeezed you tight before the hug ended and pulled away.

“What’s this about you not taking the mistakes from limbo to purgatory?”

“I was hoping you wouldn’t ask that,” he sighed and ran a hand through his hair, “Dad is being a pain lately, and forcing us to kill off forgotten souls.” Brendon rolled his eyes, of course his father would do that, he was never the most considerate ruler.

You shook your head. Of course, he was trying to do that. Hell was starting to get crowded, you could only imagine what it looked like in purgatory and heaven.

“More people are going to hell than ever, heaven isn’t even that full,” Gabriel explained, “We’re filtering all the people we can into heaven from purgatory but they’re moving slower than ever.”

“I suppose this is means for revolution again?” you sighed. The last time there was a revolution in hell and purgatory, your son had died in the hands of your brother, Muriel. You could never be really mad at Muriel, he was doing what he thought was right, but now more than ever, you missed your dear Josh.

“How? Last time I took care of all the revolutionists last time,” Brendon spoke up, taking your hand after he saw your face fall. Gabriel shrugged.

“There are two new souls coming, and one of them is going to start a revolution,” Gabriel looked you in the eyes, his golden orbs reassuring. However, it wasn’t reassuring enough, “One of them is Joshua.”

You groaned at the red light shining above your head.

“What the fuck happened?” you asked. Tyler and Pete were sitting, having just seen exactly what happened. You looked down at your body, you were wearing the same red dress you saw in your dream.

Nightmare? No, definitely not a nightmare.

Memory.

Josh came too soon after, looking at you with a hopeful sparkle in his eyes. It was quickly gone, however, when he realized it was no longer a dream.

“Lady Azrael,” Pete said, moving to kneel.

“I didn’t believe Brendon when he said it was you,” Tyler muttered.

You stood up, a little unsteady on your bare feet, as opposed to shoes you were wearing, on the rough concrete. You stepped toward Josh, who was holding his side with on hand, and holding Morningstar in the other. You reached down and took your blade.

Huh, maybe it did belong to you.

“You never know who you’re threatening,” you said. This act was coming so natural.

“Go ahead. Finish me off, wipe me from existence,” Josh said, barely able to speak now, “you have to know that these wounds don’t heal.”

You did know. Somehow. Maybe Azrael was telling you, deep down. But she was also begging you to not take her son, your son, away again. The pain was too much.

“I’m not going to finish you off, Joshua,” you said, squatting down to take both blades, the one in his hand and the one in his side, away from him, “I’m going to take this blade out of your side, and I'll heal you.”

“Why?”

“What kind of mother would I be to leave my son lying, in pain.”

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