hell on earth.

abbadon, knight of hell.

[ramonameisel]

In darkness every sinner looks like an angel, just as every devil looks like a saint in the light.

thoughts #104 | r.m (via rmeisel)

[abvddcn]

( ELI MARKOS )

     “Probably not, no, but we’ll have more luck finding something behind that door to stop it than we will trying to outrun it.”

He didn’t know exactly what kind of monster, what kind of demon, was chasing her, but he wasn’t eager to find out. Doors led to buildings, and buildings had hiding places, or other doors – if they were lucky, they could confuse whatever it was enough to lose her trail, or at least stall it long enough to get her to safety. 

Whatever she’d done to draw it’s attention, he knew that demons and monsters had better things to do these days than go on wild goose chases across the burned out cityscape unless they had good reason.

Clutching his bag close to his side, he rattles the pushbar on the door, finds it jammed and locked in place. So he separates himself from her for a moment, stepping to the side before he runs his shoulder, hard, into it, trying to jostle it free. It’s a safer bet than breaking a window, he thinks, and he’s broken into plenty of locked doors before. He hears the latch beyond click, and pushes one last time to set the pushbar back into place, the door creaking open beneath his hands.

     “Here, get inside–”

The Messiah was right about one thing: they wouldn’t be able to outrun the demon that was supposedly after her, especially if he was actually hunting the human down. Lucky for the human, however, if any demon even dared to hunt her vessel down without knowing who was inside, they’d be the one lying on the floor, eyes burned out --- and that’d be a merciful kill. 

Nodding her head, Agnes did as she was told and got inside; she even waited for the human to get inside before she closed the door behind her and, of course, looked around in an effort to show the other that she wasn’t an empty-brained young girl, that she had the potential to be an asset. Pushing a random piece of furniture in front of the door, all Agnes wanted was to buy them some time --- Abaddon? She wanted time to leave a mark in the Messiah’s memory.

“There. That should buy us more time, right?” The girl asked, looking at the older man for some sort of reassurance or a better idea if her own was shot down. 

Letting her breathing calm down, the girl looked around them, trying to let her eyes get used to the darker room, what was around her and if they were completely and utterly alone; Abaddon was good at playing scared, at playing the lost lamb --- that’s why she chose her vessel’s carefully; it was half the work done for her. 

“Do you think they’re gone?”

[abvddcn]

( VERITY DRISCOLL )

Oh, this woman was a treat. How long had it been since she ran into someone who didn’t cower at their own shadow? Those who bowed into themselves during these times were simply easier targets. She’d learned that lesson well throughout childhood. “Well, if you did,” she smiled softly in return to her smirk. “I’d say we have ourselves a bit of a chat. You’d have to buy me a drink in return for breaking my camera.” Her voice was teasing like hers, wondering still how the universe had kept such a soul from her. 

The way the preacher flinched from the stranger’s gaze sealed the deal for Verity. She was going to convince her to join their cause, come hell or high-water. The thought gave her a giggle, since hell had already come. Hopefully that meant she had her foot halfway in the door to persuading her. “It’s funny. They should know by now no matter how much they repeat those same verses God isn’t coming to save them. But if they let this go, then they have to accept that they’re not going to make it in this world.” 

Agnes. Verity wouldn’t have pegged her for that name, not that she minded it. “Don’t we all? I’m lucky to have caught you on one of your days out, then.” She smiled wider. “I’m Verity. Can I assume from the fact you like to stay within your apartment that you’re not apart of the rebels?” 

Abaddon only had two solutions for humans: worship or die. It was easy, simple, and yet many of them still had a hard time grasping such a basic concept. The human before her, however, was different. Her blood had released Lucifer and to Abaddon that was good enough to avoid going automatically into her “torture later” list. The blood of the human before her was astounding, priceless to the Knight of Hell. 

Still, that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to have a little fun. 

“I’d buy you a whole bottle after what you have done.” The girl’s next words were not surprising; Lucifer’s liberator would, of course, think even less of the preacher, the spreader of lies and stupidity. “Hopefully they’ll stop believing in such a deadbeat God.” And start worshipping those that should be worshipped, Lucifer at the top of all of them. He was the one and only deserving of such love and devotion, even if most of the humans and other creatures didn’t understand how. He had created her, he had picked her and Abaddon’s life is dedicated to her King and only her King.

“Smart deduction, Verity.” Abaddon let the girl’s name roll off of her tongue like it was made of syrup and the demon was enjoying the taste of it. “I know who you are. I would be stupid not to. After all, you freed Lucifer.”

[greenishness]

spn hiatus creations | week 6: red-haired ladies “it’s just little, old, unkillable me.”

[abvddcn]

( AZAZEL )

They can taste the coming destruction on her voice, can feel the pull of chaos around her as she approaches: they know before she says it that there is something on her mind involving them, and they know that whatever it is, it is havoc at its absolute finest. They would have no doubts about it– Abaddon always did have a keen sense of destruction.

A partnership. Azazel has never needed tempting, or bribing, or convincing, never needed manipulating into doing something destructive. They have always been just like the weapons they created so long ago, the arrows that turned to guns and then to city-destroying bombs: point them where you want them and pull the trigger. 

     “Can’t help it,” they say, taking the rest of his stuttering steps towards the bar, towards a stool, sitting down to look at her. “Came with the damned body. I don’t even know if this thing’s got eyes yet. You wanna check for me?”

Very few demons actually interested her; would she kill one of them to prove a point? Absolutely; but only if it helped her and Lucifer in the end. The younger ones, the fresh outta corrupt town souls were still somewhat impulsive, careless and, more often than not, they messed everything up more than they helped. 

Azazel was one of the lucky few that Abaddon actually liked. In her own way, at least.

Abaddon kept her eyes on Azazel, watching as they took the last few steps and sat down in front of her. She could feel eyes on her and while she didn’t mind the recognition, she surely didn’t need anyone eavesdropping on their conversation. The Knight looked at their vessel up and down, her eyebrows rising. “Did you find that vessel in the back of the store?” The demon spoke, a playful tone in her otherwise rude words.

“Oh, I wouldn’t mind at all. I’ll just go get my optometrist costume and I’ll be right with you. How does that sound?”

[abaddoninspo]

                                                    A B Y S S

                                       a playlist for abaddon.

[kardashianjennergifs]

[abvddcn]

( JEGUDIEL )

Jegudiel had seen malice before, seen it threading throughout humans, watching it consume their souls. Demons, they felt, were no different ( except that they chose malice, chose it willingly ). While the words were harsh, nearly causing them to retreat, the archangel knew they could not give up so easily. Humanity needed to be saved, and they would have to get through one demon at a time to accomplish the task. 

“You imply that you speak to Him,” Jegudiel said. “And that, in itself, is more than enough.” Because He’s always listening, listening to their prayers ( their constant begging for forgiveness ). 

“How do you have fun during war?” How can you have fun when salvation seems locked away as suffering brushes against every surface. They hated it, they hated this. And hate isn’t even a word that the archangel liked in their vocabulary. 

Abaddon rolled her eyes upon hearing the angel speak. Are they so blind as to not see the reality around them? Humanity may fight, but they have already lost. For millennia, they let war, greed, and hunger dictate what they did and what they said; they attacked each other, killed one another and thought themselves to be the most important beings in the whole wide world.

They were maggots, bugs that needed to be eradicated; even God had given up on them but they didn’t see to understand that. Or perhaps they didn’t want to; denial was the first stage, was it not? Abaddon was not well versed in human emotions --- the demon couldn’t remember what it felt like to be one of them.

“Oh, I do. Every Sunday I try to reach him but it goes straight to voicemail. Pity.” Mockery was something that came easily to Abaddon, the tone of her voice making it obvious that she was being sarcastic; if anyone ever caught her talking to God, the Knight would ask them to kill her, herself. 

A scoff escaped the soulless being, her eyes rolling as she shook her head; the angel’s question ought to be a joke, right? They act so high and mighty, but even they know selfishness. “Please, don’t act like you and your brothers and sisters don’t have your own fun during the war. I kill and maim but you? You all try and act like the saviors of the damned. And for what? Not for the salvation of the humans, no. You want to make your daddy proud. You all do. You’re just as selfish as the rest of us. Admit it, Feathers.” 

Did Abaddon care enough to try and psychoanalyze an angel? No. But if she could make them doubt their own creation, perhaps she could convince the humans. They ought to be easier, right?

[abvddcn]

( MICHAEL )

TIME: dawn PLACE: st. jude’s church STATUS: open

Learning, to an Angel, is a strange thing. Created whole, they are fully fledged from the beginning, in no need of instruction nor education. They understood time before its formation, animals before their creation, love before there were any humans to care for. Now, a thousand thousand years later, their mind is a map. Within, civilizations long fallen rise once more and dead languages come to life, only a moment away from manifestation. They are everything. And yet, from this Earth, Michael has learnt this: it is the simplest things in life that provide solace. 

A dawn, a ruined church, battling against the tide. They are little, but in a world such as this one, they mean the most. 

The sun streams down, stubbornly persisting. Even Lucifer cannot drown it out. And then, a pang. He probably enjoys the kinship. Bright for bright. A star for a star. Their eyes search the cracked church, looking for…they do not know. Their Holy Father? They don’t need to see Him to know He is here. He is always here - both watching and within. 

Distracted, they almost miss the footsteps to their side. Mere inches from holy ground, outside the confines of the church, it could be friend, or foe. The thought doesn’t shake them. They are Michael. That means something.

Instead, they call out. “Come to observe the virtues of human grit and tenacity too?” For what else can you call this place? Its struggle is beautiful, divine. 

With fire at her fingertips, Abaddon had one mission and one mission only: send a message. Burn part of the ugly and degraded church to the ground to let everyone who worships the deadbeat God know that perhaps they’re on the wrong side of history this time around. Join or die. That’s a clear enough message, right?

Abaddon expected no one to be there, so the obvious damper on her plan sent the Knight into a bad mood; someone was bound to pay for that. However, it was not the stranger that was going to pay. The demon loved death and destruction but not her own. She was smarter than mess with an Angel, especially when their grace seemed almost too overwhelming. 

“Sure.” The Knight spoke, deadpan look on the vessel’s expression and a monotone voice escaping her. “It was at the top of my list of things I had to do.”

[diablocodys]

“you’re a monster” he hissed; she laughed and said, “better a monster, then an arrogant god.”

why fall when you can rise ; she whispered | A.M (via lunavlovegood)

[abvddcn]

( BAAL )

Location: Saint & Swords  For: @abvddcn

The table at the back of the room is quiet, Baal comfortable in his chair. This is where he likes to be, watching. He can see everyone in the room from here. Petty humans who think they’re subtle when they gaze at him out of the corner of their eyes. 

They can tell he’s so much more than them. He radiates power. Drips with it. His sleeve is flecked with blood. He didn’t spill it, he hardly ever does. But he’d stayed standing close after compelling a lower ranked demon to do the deed for him. A new favourite pass-time. 

All said and done, he’s growing impatient. He doesn’t like to be kept waiting, even by Abaddon. They may have much in common, and much to do together, but the demon was still lower than he and should show the appropriate respect. He’ll let it pass, this time, provided they make their appearance soon. Knowing Abaddon, they’ll come armed with a fantastic story. Whatever manipulative ploys they’re carrying out for fun are sure to be entertaining. 

Abaddon was late, she knew that. Unless it was Lucifer she was meeting, of course; in that case, she would be hours early, if she must. Lucifer had chosen her and Abaddon was not going to give him a reason to doubt his decision, ever. Any other person, including the Princes, didn’t have her undying loyalty --- not until they proved their worth. 

Still, Baal was one of the Princes that she actually enjoyed being around; Abaddon was not a team player --- she was a general, she gave orders and she did what she had to do. Even then, she still found herself going to a bar to enjoy a little time with Baal, a little arm candy (and perhaps real candy later on) walking by her side as she made her way towards Baal. 

“Sorry, I’m late. Turns out humans have a little more fight in them than they had a few years ago and I had to kill a few before hitting the jackpot.” The Knight of Hell said before she pushed the human towards Baal, giving them a look that said sit or die. 

“Hope you didn’t start without me.”

[abvddcn]

( SIMON FARMER )

Its wrong. Something in the air. A darkness, cloying and intense and inescapable. He’s felt it so often, nowadays. Its like it lives in the very air around them. Like New Zion is a beacon of darkness, instead of the shining city it should be. 

A beacon of sin. He did his fair share of it, here.

But its right, too. Something about her calling him into service. Like the lost souls him and Eli would help. Buy them a meal, a cup of coffee, sit and listen to their stories. he wonders what her story is, the full one. Where she came from, why she’s settled here, how such a sweet thing can live in a world like this. 

She doesn’t know where to go, and it makes his chest ache. He knows how that feels. Back in the day, he would have brought her home. Let her sleep in his bed while he crashed on the couch. He can’t bring her back to Providence Park. Not without talking to someone else first, anyway. 

Not tonight.

He sighs, quiet, heavy with the weight of it. “Uh, that sucks.” Uncertain, then. “I think theres a diner open, down the street. Let me buy you a cup of coffee, get you inside for a while, or something.” 

The darkness inside of her oozed out of her like a black hole, whether Abaddon wanted it to or not; that’s why it was imperative for her to have a character so pure looking, so angelic that she would be able to fool even the smartest of humans --- even if their heads were, to her belief, filled with nothing other than sand.

At his invitation, Agnes let a small smile appear on her lips, glad to know a stranger would be so kind as to help her. Abaddon, on the other hand, wanted to drink a glass of blood and cackle. Slowly, but surely, she would get the man’s trust and with that trust, came one way into the prophet’s life.

“Are --- are you sure? You must have other things to do, I’ll be fine, really. I’m sure there are no monsters in the dinner.” Although Abaddon let her words come out as genuine as she could possibly manage, they had an underlying intention: there would be monsters in the diner and even with her protests, the man would want to accompany her.

It was the perfect guilt trip. “I don’t want to impose.”

[abvddcn]

( ELI MARKOS )

The footsteps weren’t entirely what he’d expected they would be. 

The girl – she was only a girl, really, couldn’t be much older than twenty, or the fear in her eyes was making her look much younger than she was – emerged from the other end of the alley and seemed to find him with her gaze like a lasersight. What had he told Uriel he’d be doing? Out looking for those in need, and here she was, begging for his help.

     “Hey, it’ll be okay, calm down.”

He wasn’t out here to tussle with demons, wasn’t out here to get in a fight; he couldn’t afford that, not with so many people at Providence Park relying on him, and relying on the things he had tucked into the bag slung across his shoulder, so he took a moment to look around, looking for anywhere they could hide, a corner to duck into or a dumpster to slide behind. The adrenaline was quick in his bloodstream now, churning up a whirlpool in his stomach as he searched desperately for somewhere to go, but his eyes landed across a door, just ahead of them, just down the alley.

     “Come on, this way–” he whispered, grabbing her by the crook of the arm and guiding her that way, darting across the alley and hoping it would be unlocked. 

Hey, it’ll be okay, calm down.

Oh, it will be more than okay. All Abaddon wanted to do at that moment was cackle, throw her head back and enjoy the sweet, sweet victory that she would eventually experience. The Messiah, who no doubt had promised himself time and time again that he would protect those that still believe in God, was helping one of the creatures that were the living, breathing opposite of what he believed in

If that wasn’t ironically funny, the Knight of Hell didn’t really know what could be. It was, without a doubt, in the top ten moments of her most recent visit to Earth. 

As Agnes asked of her, the demon stepped closer to the older man, inherently showing that she felt safe near him; it could make him think that even a stranger felt comfortable near him, without knowing who or what it was. It could make him feel even more responsible for her and that’s what Abaddon wanted. 

Letting him take her arm, the Knight couldn’t help but think how different things would’ve gone if she had gone down another road; if she had taken his arm, broken it and used fear as a reason for him to keep moving rather than responsibility. “Where are we going? That door can’t possibly keep that.... that thing from coming in!”

[vhersigh]

corrupt me i want to feel the chains bruise my skin while i bare my teeth at the gods.    the sea will embrace me and i will emerge a monster all my own.

andromeda was unafraid // d.n.b (via vhersigh)

[bimbandboozled]

[kieraknightley]

[apollohnx]

Mythology Edits | Demons