Warnings: nsft! Naked female/clothed male, choking, cumming in pants, reunion sex, magical aphrodisiac, marathon sex, cursing, dirty talk, tit play, grinding, biting, switch!John, switch!reader, unprotected p in v, rough sex, possessive John, the reader is described as having hair long enough to pull, hair pulling, and creampie.
Without breaking the kiss, Constantine guided you backwards to lie down with him resting on top of you. When you parted for air, Constantine pulled back the tiniest amount as if he were afraid that you would find some way to leave again.
“It’s been years since I’ve felt your touch.”
“You chose your path,” you reminded him. The words came out harsher than you intended but Constantine was unphased, “You left me behind.”
“And this is me making the choice I should’ve made all those years ago.”
You were spared from uttering an answer to that declaration when Constantine reconnected your lips. When his free hand brushed against your tattooed wrist, your mouth opened in a gasp, and your body arched up into his. You didn’t need to be a mind reader to understand the reason behind his smug satisfaction.
Desperate for him to experience the arousal coursing through your veins, you made a snap decision. The moan that escaped him when your fingers closed around his wrist was downright pornographic, and his hips rutted against yours.
“You’re right.” You teased impishly, “I do like this view and the sounds you’re making.”
Constantine’s grip around your wrist grew firmer and in retaliation, you hooked one leg around his waist. You weren’t sure what he saw in your eyes but the instant your leg wrapped around him to bring him closer, a thrilled gleam appeared in his.
“Do it,” he urged.
Needing no further prompting, you used your leverage, a bit of your magic and some of your martial arts training from Kamar-Taj to switch your positions. John’s hands reached up to cradle your thighs before moving to grip your tits over your clothing. Annoyed by the barrier that prevented his bands from grasping onto your flesh, John’s eyes flashed and your clothing disappeared. Just yours.
“Not fair,” you gasped, pushing your boobs into his hands as his calloused fingers stroked your already erect nipples.
“Don’t care,” he returned. “I can feel how wet you are and I’ve barely touched you.”
Half-formed retorts bounced around your brain but then John shifted his hips and the fabric of his pants rubbed against your clit and your mind emptied. All you could think was how good, solid, and hot John’s body felt underneath you.
The demonologist shifted again and this time his zipper pressed deliciously into your clit. You could feel the erection being restrained by his pants and automatically, your hips rolled against him, craving more friction.
Panting, you fell forwards and braced your weight by placing both hands on John’s covered shoulders. Not wasting any time, John leaned upwards and flicked his tongue over the nipple closest to him. The sensation shot straight to your pussy and you let out a whine that would’ve been embarrassing in normal circumstances.
Your wetness seeped out of you and onto John’s pants but neither of you cared because you were too wrapped up in the sensations coursing through your bodies. Between John sucking and licking at your boobs, your clit grinding against his zipper and his cock throbbing in the confines of his pants, your orgasm raced through you. Feeling you stiffen on top of him, John used his last ounce of self-control to link your fingers and bring your tattooed wrists onto the floor inside the runic circle.
The runic circle glowed a bright blue and the magic loitering near the Hogwarts wards finally found an opening. It shot like an arrow into the castle, searching for the two sorcerers who possessed the ability to command it. Barrelling through the locked door, the energy raced over to you and John, mixing with your shared, bound magic.
It wrapped around you like a cocoon, sparks flying in your presence. Unnoticed by either of you since you were so consumed with the afterglow, these sparks separated themselves from the main circle and sped out of the castle with one particular target in mind. Voldemort.
Revitalised by the magic surging around you both, John took the opportunity to change your positions. Too blissed out to protest, you barely noticed him positioning you on all fours. The magic cocoon crept closer, shielding you both from any potential prying eyes and soothing your taut muscles. Your awareness returned when you felt John’s hand pressing down on the small of your back and heard him lowering his zipper.
“You’ve had your fun,” John growled. “Now,” he shuffled forwards until the head of his weeping cock slipped inside you. “It’s my turn.”
Not giving you a chance to respond, he shoved the rest of his cock inside you, and you let out a desperate keen. You tossed your head back, and John’s hand moved from your back to fist in your hair. Circling his free hand around your waist and yanking your hair at the same time, John pulled you upwards so your back was against his chest.
“So pretty stuffed full of my cock,” John praised thickly, the arousal surging through his veins causing his accent to thicken and him to slur the words.
“Move, John. Please.” You begged, your hands resting on his thighs in a desperate attempt to give you some leverage to move. The crotch of his pants was soaked because of your juices and his cum. You could feel the cool metal of his open belt resting just below your ass, and belatedly you realised that John must’ve shoved his pants down enough to release his cock.
“Not until you say it,” John denied, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear while his thighs trembled with the urge to thrust.
“Say what? John, fuck me, you bastard.” You pleaded brokenly as he wrapped a hand around your throat. You could feel your blood thundering through your veins. Whether it was because of the magic wrapping around you and heightening your pleasure or it’d just been so long since you’d felt John’s touch, you didn’t know. But the way his hand applied the perfect amount of pressure around your throat, not to restrict your airflow but to remind you who was in charge, had more of your wetness seeping down your thighs.
“Tell me that you’re mine. That this gorgeous pussy is only mine. Say it, and I’ll give you what you want.”
The lack of friction was driving you insane. John felt so heavy and thick inside of you, and you needed him to move. Desperate, you choked out an answer and, satisfied with your surrender, John finally began to thrust his hips. He alternated between whispering filthy praises into your ear and biting down on every bit of skin that his lips brushed against. John knew you were close to your second orgasm when your head tipped back to rest on his shoulder, and your fingers reached for your clit.
Releasing your throat, John slapped your hand away. He rubbed your clit in tight circles, dipping occasionally to stroke his cock as it speared in and out of your pussy and brushing against the underside of your clit. Just when your pussy began to spasm around him, he pulled his fingers away, delighting in your disappointed whine, and lowered his fingers to frame your gaping pussy.
“Feel that? That’s me splitting you apart.” John panted, his hips losing their controlled rhythm. He moved his hand to press on your lower stomach and let out a groan when he felt the solid line of his cock inside you, “Haven’t taken a dick this big in a while, have you?” The thought of him being so deep inside you, claiming you from the inside, pushed John over the edge. His balls drew up tight to his body, and he buried himself as deep as he could go as ropes of cum burst out of the head of his cock.
You could feel John's cock jerking with every spurt of cum, and because there was so much of it, soon enough it began to trickle down your thighs.
With each round, the magic swirling around the two of you grew more and potent and by the time you and John collapsed out of exhaustion, it was strong enough to transport the both of you back to the New York Sanctum.
Unaware of what transpired overnight, Harry made his way down from the Gryffindor boys’ dormitory and commented to Ron and Hermione how that was the best night’s sleep he’d had in a long time.
It was only when the three of them were near the Great Hall that they noticed their Headmaster’s panic. Before they could ask him any questions, they were ushered past the griffin and into his office.
“Last night, Mad-Eye was part of a raid that discovered Voldemort undeniably dead, and this morning I discovered the sorcerers you summoned are nowhere to be found.” The Headmaster informed the group of teenagers gravely.
“How do I know this isn’t just another one of your conman tricks, Leal Hound?”
“You’ve waited twenty years for me, Marika. What’s twenty more seconds?”
this was supposed to be a warmup but i couldnt get the scene out of my head lol
This is a prequel to the Angels & Demons AU I wrote for AU-gust 2020. Loosely inspired by John Constantine.
--------
The next time Erik sees Charles at the Hellfire, he’s sitting in one of the VIP booths, flanked on either side by half-breeds Mystique and Azazel. He’s got his mouth on a pretty human girl’s neck, licking – no sucking – the salt off her skin, then takes a tequila shot and kisses her deeply, sharing the taste. The red headed boy on the other side – just as scantily clad, and just as drunk or high as the blonde – whines at being left out, so he repeats the performance, only this time having the boy drink the shot and sucking it straight from his mouth.
He's nothing at all like the Charles he met three weeks ago at the club, when Erik had been there, despondent and drowning his sorrows. No – that Charles was just as unearthly beautiful yes, but nothing so decadent and gauche; a kind soul that had known just the right thing to say and do to capture Erik’s undivided attention. He’d let himself fall for honeyed words from blood-red lips; let himself get lost in sky-blue eyes and forget all about revenge, and death, and Sebastian Shaw…
At least for one night.
Logan’s never going to let him live it down, that he’d inadvertently taken up with the Devil himself.
Azazel grins as Erik approaches, his red eyes sparkling with mirth; no doubt he knows all about Erik’s epic blunder and is expecting to witness some sort of confrontation. They’ve worked together before, when he’s needed a certain type of expertise hunting particularly difficult demons, and he’s about as friendly as one can be as a half-human, half-demon spawn. But Erik never ever forgets what Azazel is and what he can do, no matter how many late nights and bottles of vodka they’ve shared together at the Hellfire.
Tonight however, it’s Mystique he has to worry about, her yellow eyes narrowing when Erik comes up to the booth. She’s half-human, half-angel born, though if you ask Erik, she’s the more lethal one of Charles’ two companions by far.
“That’s close enough Lehnsherr.”
“Erik!” Charles says with a delighted laugh, as though he’s surprised to see Erik, as if he didn’t know every thought and every move Erik has and will ever make. Now that Erik is looking – really looking at Charles with his preternatural sight – he can practically see the power that emanates even from his human form. “How lovely to see you again! Won’t you join us?”
“Can we talk alone? I have a proposition for you.”
Charles’ grin turns sly, and in the blink of an eye they are no longer on the club floor, appearing inside a luxurious bedroom suite with a bird’s eye view of the city below. If there was ever any doubt in his mind that Charles wasn’t a full-blooded demon it’s gone now, and Erik’s resolve solidifies in his gut as he takes the flute of champagne offered with a flinty smile.
“Now then, why don’t you tell me what you want, Erik,” Charles purrs, taking a seat on the king-sized bed. He takes a slow sip from his own glass and smirks, and fuck if Erik’s cock doesn’t twitch even knowing what’s under that pretty façade. “A proposition, you say?”
“You know what I want.”
“I do,” Charles agrees, leaning forward to take his hand. Erik lets himself be guided to sit on the bed, though he keeps a sliver of distance between them, futile as it may be. “But you have to ask me, darling. Or the deal’s not done.”
Erik chugs the glass of champagne and exhales a weary sigh. “I want Shaw dead. And I want to be the one to destroy him.”
Charles hums a little and smiles, something softer – more deceitful – as though he knows how much it’s costing Erik to ask for his help. “What are you offering in return?”
“A soul for a soul,” he answers without hesitation. Shaw has proven too powerful for Erik to handle on his own, and he can’t – won’t – ever stop until he tears him limb from limb for what he did to his family. “My soul for eternity, if you annihilate Sebastian Shaw.”
“Do you understand what you’re asking, Erik?” Charles says, and Erik would think he’s truly concerned for him if the thought a demon capable of real feelings for a human. “The deal is binding whether or not you believe in the existence of Heaven or Hell. If I give you what you want, you belong to me.”
“Yes.” He pulls Charles close and kisses him hard, willing him to read Erik’s determination and resolve. “Take me. I’m yours.”
Charles softens the kiss, caressing Erik’s face with his fingers before pushing him down on the bed. “Splendid,” he answers, “I accept.”
This is probably my favourite moodboard. Absolute perfection (in my eyes). Based on the Constantine film so what I’ve written is pretty much film based but I was going to take it in another direction….I just need to write it.
Angel Kylo
Demon Poe
Exorcist Hux
Policewoman Reader
Warnings: mentions of guns, shooting, hospitals, angels and demons, death.
Word Count: 4K+
You’d seen it, the black soulless eyes as they stared at you, the deep throbbing veins littering the scarred face in a criss cross of grotesque patterns. You hadn’t been able to look away, fear rooting you to the seat on the bus, your hands had been gripping the edges of your seat like it could save you. Your sister was screaming, a far off noise ringing in your ears as you stared at the creature sitting in the seat right in front of you. It’s dripping mouth pulled back into a snarl. People were staring at your sister as she became more and more upset. It wasn’t until your mother grabbed your arm to haul you both off the bus and you gasped in shock that the spell broke and the only thing you saw was an old woman staring at you in place of the monster. The walk home had been awful, your sister clung to you as your mother shouted about how embarrassed she was, mumbling under her breath about locking you both away and you began to tremble.
That was this morning. Your sister weeping in her bed didn’t do much to distract you as you sat bolt upright in your bed. The shadows moved in your room, flicking with shapes and hidden monsters.
“Why didn’t you tell Daddy you could see it too?” You tore your gaze away from the cracked door of your wardrobe to look at your sister, bathed in the moonlight. Her hair was a mess from being under the covers, hiding. Your father had given her some curt words for lying, for making up tall tales about monsters and scaring your mother. Your twin had turned to you for help but you couldn’t speak up, too terrified the monsters would get you if you ever agreed with her, too scared your parents were going to abandon you.
“I was afraid.” You confessed in a whisper. She wiped her eyes, sitting up to look at you.
“So was I,” she whined. “I don’t understand why we see these things.” She crawled out of her bed and dived in with you, wrapping yours arms around each other and you instantly felt better.
“I’m sorry, Flick. I’ll try. I promise.”
—
“So this is what it’s come to?” You shouted over your shoulder, the smooth metal of the gun a comforting weight in your hands. You rested your head against the concrete pillar behind you wondering where the fuck your backup was. Shots had been fired, they should be racing to get here, although you were alone you weren’t afraid. You’d made peace with your job a long time ago and if it was your time, it was your time.
“Well I guess, seeing as you’re a cop.” The voice rang out around you, echoing in the vast space but you could envision exactly where he was standing. You always knew where they were standing.
“I never lied to you,” you called out.
“No, you just avoided that minor detail.” He was moving, coming up on your left, where was your backup?
“Don’t do it, Jacob,” you closed your eyes, he was just a kid.
“I’ve got no choice…” Shit. You stepped out from around the pillar not even looking as you raised the gun and fired. You already knew you weren’t going to miss, you never missed. His gun clattered out of his limp hand just as the doors burst open to emit your back up.
“Hey, you ok? We got here as fast as we could.” You looked up into the face of your partner, giving him a scathing look before holding your gun out.
“Someone bag this!” You shouted. “Is he dead?” You asked quietly. Ben looked down at you, holstering his own weapon.
“You already know the answer to that.” Damnit. Without another word you left, shoving past your tall partner and heading out into the dusk that was settling on the city. Another one, another death at your hands and you didn't even flinch. “What’s the matter with you? This is a good outcome!” You rounded on him, barely concealing your overflowing emotions at what you’d just done.
“A good outcome? That kid is dead because of me…”
“No!” Ben grabbed your arms, forcing you to look at him. “He’s dead because of his actions.” Deep down you knew Ben was right, just something about this case hit you harder than the others. Maybe it was his age, maybe you’d just been involved more, whatever it was, you didn’t want it anymore.
“I’m going home, I’ll send in my report.” He let you go, rubbing his hand over his face and watching you leave, not sure how to help you.
—
Your apartment was small, but large enough for you and your cat who now wove between your legs meowing loudly to be fed.
“It’s coming!” You giggled softly, spooning the food into the bowl. You wrinkled your nose at the smell, you’d had cats all your life but nothing would ever prepare you for the smell of wet cat food. “Here, take it!” You exclaimed, putting the dish on the floor and stepping away from the ravenous animal. You went back to your computer, the tv was a low background noise behind you, not that you ever watched it, generally you didn’t have time. You squinted at the screen, this report was long, this kid had been a contact of yours for ages but somehow your identity had been ratted out and so it led to the confrontation in the warehouse. He’d shot at you multiple times, giving you the excuse you needed to fire back, the only difference was you needed just one bullet. Your marksmanship was legendary in the precinct, you hated it. The way the other officers looked up to you, the other detectives wanted to work with you all the time it was annoying. You lay your arms on the desk resting your head on them, thinking you could get just 5 minutes sleep before you send off this damn report.
You were running through the empty halls, looking over your shoulder but not seeing anything. You didn’t have to see them, they always chased you, sliding from one shadow to the other, their breath heated and foul as they snarled. Tears blurred your vision and you barged into the door coming out onto the roof. The city stretched out below you twinkling innocently, almost teasing you with its beauty when really it was a pool of ugliness. They whispered your name, clawing their way up the stairwell behind you, the sound of their talons scratching at the inside of your mind sending a searing pain down your neck. The door opened and you turned to see him, the wind taking the edges of his black trench coat and tearing them away from his body.
“You.” It was barely a whisper as the word slipped past your lips. He was your signal, he was what you needed. Peace descended and you knew what you had to do, your body relaxed and you fell…
A screaming woke you up, shattering your sleep addled brain before you realised it was you making that noise. You were in bed, you must have moved from the desk and not remembered. You breathed heavily through your nose trying to calm your racing heart, you had no idea why you had dreamed that. The harder you thought about it trying to understand the quicker it trickled away until you were left with just a feeling. You shivered at the chill in the air, flinching slightly when your cat jumped up on the bed. He butted his head against your face as though knowing you needed comfort, his black fur was silky against your skin and you closed your eyes breathing him in. His purring was loud, rumbling from his little body and you lay back down holding him to your chest. It was just a dream.
Your phone went off scaring your cat and he raced off your lap, it was around 3am in the morning you already knew this wasn’t going to be a good phone call. It was the station.
“Ben?” You immediately said and you heard him sigh on the other end.
“How did you know it was me?”
“Just a guess.”
“You should come to the hospital.” Your blood ran cold, freezing your heart for a moment as his words slithered through you. You didn’t even need to ask why, you already knew.
“I’m on my way.”
—
Hux stood in the small room looking at the scans. It was surreal, staring at the inside of his body seeing the cancer growing, killing him in those twisted knots. He flicked the top of his lighter, the brass making a satisfying click as it snapped shut.
“Is it worse?” He didn’t even know why he asked, he was no doctor but even he could see it had grown, expanding and taking over his lungs. It explained the constant ache that was in his chest, he assumed it was the heaviness of his job, his path in life but no, it was just the beginnings of his descent below.
“Yes.” His fingers moved from habit, pulling the packet out of his pocket and shoved a cigarette out of the top. “That’s a good idea,” his doctor snarkily said.
“Won’t make much difference now will it?”
“We could try chemo, radiation…” Hux lit the end, hearing the satisfying flare as it caught alight, instantly dragging in the smoke letting it infiltrate what was left of his lungs.
“Can’t you take it out? Like before?” His doctor shook her head.
“It’s far too invasive, this is more aggressive than last time.” He approached the scans in the light box, blowing a breath full of smoke over them in disgust.
“Of all the things I’ve done and seen, and this,” he held up the cigarette that was perched perfectly between his fingers. “This is what kills me.” What a fine joke. Prick.
“I’m sorry I don’t have better news,” she replied heavily and Hux sneered.
“Whatever.” He couldn’t bear to be in this small suffocating room anymore, he stormed out without a backwards glance, shoving the spent cigarette in a bin and drawing another one out. It was a crutch, from the moment he was old enough to sneak them into his bedroom he had been smoking but he had a good reason. Hux had been gifted with the sight, but he’d tell you it was a curse. The burning sterile smell of the hospital made him wrinkle his nose. He hated this place so many moving shadows, people who couldn’t be saved, the creatures waiting to drag them up or down. Depending on where their path was taking them, based on their life choices. Death hung in the air like a dark cloud here and Hux was sick of it following him around, maybe dying soon would be a good thing except….except he knew exactly where he was going. He stepped into the lift turning and putting the unlit cig in his mouth.
“Hold the doors if you're going down!” He looked up at the sound of the voice, a woman was coming towards him, her face stricken with grief just like every other person in this god forsaken place.
“Not if I can fucking help it,” he smirked. The abruptness of his comment made her pause, their eyes locking for a moment before the doors closed. Hux looked at the floor, he was a jerk and he knew it but he was sick of doing everything for other people and being shit on. The lift stopped and he stepped out, stopping to light the cigarette in his mouth before moving out of the way. He hastily made his way out of the suffocating walls of the hospital, a cloud of killer smoke following him as he went, not caring about the looks and comments that people threw his way. The taxi was there waiting for him as always, the kid in the front seat muttering to himself about one thing or another. Hux let himself into the back.
“The church,” he said gruffly.
“Oh hey Chas, thanks for waiting for me. Can we head to the church next?” Hux looked out the window ignoring the kid's sarcasm. “I take it the doc had no good news?” Again Hux ignored him and took a deep drag of his cigarette instead. Chas sighed in the front knowing he wasn’t going to get anything out of his companion.
Hux watched the world slide by in a blur of colours, the lights, the people, the sounds, the shops all smearing across his vision like they meant nothing. Everyones pointless little lives moving on, each choice they made led to just one of two comes. You either did everything right and went to heaven or you did something wrong and you were damned to an eternity in hell being tortured, ripped apart over and over again for as long as the demons deemed it necessary. Hux flicked his cigarette butt out of the window enjoying the way the breeze flowed into the taxi ruffling his hair, the air thick with fumes from all the traffic and smells of the city. It took longer than he wanted to get to the church but it also gave him time to figure out what to say. He just hoped the creature he wanted to see was there.
Chas pulled up and turned round to stare at his silent passenger.
“When am I going to stop being your slave Hux?”
“You’re not my slave, Chas. More….an appreciated apprentice, like Tonto or Robin.”
“So why don’t I practise something besides driving then?” Hux slid across the seat and Chas threw his hand up in the air.
“Hux?? I’ll just wait here shall I?” Hux slammed the door and made his way up the steps, he knew Chas would wait for him. He was a good kid. The exorcist entered the vast space, taking note of the vaulted ceiling, the rows and rows of shelves filled with books all reciting the same shit, the huge painting of Jesus being crucified on the cross added a grotesque theme to the whole place. The carpet muffled his footsteps and he paused when a young priest approached him.
“May I take your coat Mr Hux?”
“No, thanks. I’m not staying long.” He peered past the young man seeing the Father in conversation with someone with dark hair.
“What about you Ma’am?” Hux stiffened, sensing someone behind him and he turned to look at the woman instantly recognising her as the woman who he had let the lift door shut on earlier.
“No, I'm not staying long either. I really need to speak with him, it's urgent.” She stressed coming up beside Hux and he smirked.
“First come, first served,” he drawled. She looked at him, doing a double take as she recognised him from the hospital.
“So you’re rude no matter where you are. How nice to see you again,” she commented dryly. Hux made a soft noise before turning back to face the duo at the fire, the Father began to walk away and he noticed how the woman shoved past him in her eagerness to speak first. Hux smirked again, she could have the old man, that’s not who he was here to see. He toyed with the lighter in his pocket, taking comfort in the weight of it. The ridges made from the engraving of the St.Benedict medal felt so familiar and it calmed him for a moment. The man stood in front of the fire, his wings protruded and spread to their full span, almost filling the whole width of the wall, the feathers were large and grey, quivering in their magnificence but the beauty was lost on Hux. He had seen angel wings plenty of times and he was no longer intimidated by their presence. All angels were self absorbed pricks anyway.
“I know why you’re here,” the angel stated.
“Oh yeah? Still keeping your ‘all seeing eye’ on me Kylo? Should I be flattered by such attention?” The angel shifted at his words, the heat of the fire finally reaching Hux as the creature moved to the side.
“I could spout some shit at you, something like,” he tipped his head back, the inky black tresses falling away from his face. “Oh yeah, a shepherd can lead even the most wayward of his flock, but I don’t exactly sound sincere.” The angel’s voice had a smooth, rich quality about it and Hux hated every word that fell from his mouth. He sat in one of the plush leather chairs, hearing the whispered conversation taking place behind him between the shelves with the Father, apparently the woman wasn’t happy with something but that wasn’t Hux’s concern.
“I’ve been seeing some unusual activity recently, soldier demons seem to be possessing in greater numbers, I even had to pull one out of a little girl.” Hux stood up, hating how Kylo was towering over him. “Maybe you’d consider giving me an extension seeing as I’m doing your side some good these days.” Kylo moved away from the fire to occupy the other leather armchair, crossing his legs and looking up at Hux, his eyes glowing with the green light Hux associated with angels. Kylo laced his hands together and smiled, his dark hair framing his pale face as he gazed at the exorcist.
“Still trying to buy your way into heaven, Armitage?” He asked softly. “You know, they say you’re the one soul He’d come up here to collect.” Hux turned away to look into the flames, letting them bore into his eyes as he tried to think of what to say next.
“All the minions I’ve sent back? All the good I’ve done, that alone should guarantee my entry…”
“That’s not how it works Armitage,” Kylo leaned back in his seat to adjust the waistband of trousers. “How many times have I told you?”
“Well what does He want from me?” Asked Hux aggressively. He wanted to punch something, slam his fist into the wall to try and get rid of his frustration but even he knew that was a pointless endeavour.
“Just the usual, self sacrifice…belief.”
“I believe!” Snapped Hux but Kylo interrupted him with a wave.
“No, no. You know. There’s a difference. You’ve seen…”
“And I never asked to see! I was born like this,” Hux gestured to himself as he paced before the fire. “Born with this curse.”
“Armitage, it’s a gift. One that you’ve squandered and used very very selfishly.” Kylo stood, fiddling with his suit jacket and coming to a stop before the fire. Anger flared in Hux at the angel's words.
“How is pulling demons out of little girls a selfish endeavour? Who the fuck is that for?” Kylo rested his arm on the mantelpiece, the fire reflecting in his eyes accentuating the supernatural flare that danced in his irises.
“You don’t see, do you?” He asked silkily.
“See what exactly?” Kylo smiled at Hux’s tone, still refusing to look at the exorcist as he nudged a log with his shoe.
“All you’ve ever done, has been for yourself, to buy your way into heaven, to earn his good graces.” Hux clenched his fists, the angel was wrong. But at the same time he knew he was right. It if had been up to him he’d have given up his sight a long time ago, but he’d been told he had it for a reason and so he thought if he could use it, those acts alone would help earn a spot in the sky rather than down in the pits of hell. Hux moved past the angel, seeing the massive bible on the stand he started to thumb through the thick, yellowed pages, his frustration creeping with each flick of his wrist.
“Possible rules, endless regulations, who goes up, who goes down, why??” His anger reached a peak and he grabbed the heavy book, turning and slamming it at the angel's feet, the sound of it echoed loudly round the quiet space. “Why do you get a say?” He asked as he advanced on Kylo. “You don’t even understand us. You’re the one that should go to hell, halfbreed.” Kylo stared at him, the light flared briefly in his eyes before it died, along with Hux’s anger. He visibly deflated, slouching back into the armchair, holding out his shaking hands. “Why me, Kylo?” He let out a little laugh and shook his head. “This is personal isn’t it? What? I didn’t pray enough? I didn’t go to church enough? I didn’t…” Hux trailed off as Kylo approached to crouch down before the red headed man.
“You, Armitage, are going to die young because you smoked 30, probably more, cigarettes a day since you were 13 and you’re going to hell because of the life you took.” He leaned forward slightly. “You’re fucked.” He said calmly. Hux stood, he wanted to knock the beast off his feet but the angel was too quick. Tugging on this black coat he flicked the collar up, glaring angrily at the smug arrogant prick before storming off. The ache in his chest increased, kicking off a spasm that made him cough, filling his mouth with the foul bitter taste that resided in there. The taste of death and decay.
—
It was raining, you hugged yourself against the chill eyeing the taxi parked at the side of the road. You’d tried to get the driver's attention but he’d ignored you and honestly, maybe a trip in the rain would wash away some of your grief. It felt like half of you was in the dark, your whole right side numb and rubbery. Your twin sister, the one you had committed again less than two weeks ago, had killed herself. No. She wouldn’t. Where you had renounced your family's faith she had stayed loyal, she wouldn't risk herself like that. You tried not to let the grief overwhelm you again, just then the door burst open and you turned in surprise as the haughty, conceited man you’d encountered twice today came stumbling through the door. His red hair was bright in the gathering darkness, his body covered by a black trench coat as he coughed violently. He leaned heavily on the pillar on the opposite side to you, turning away to cover his obvious vulnerability. You tried not to stare but his cough really sounded like it needed looking at, until he straightened running a hand through his hair he looked out into the dark rain.
He delved into his pocket, shoving a cigarette into his mouth, the loud snap of his lighter caught your attention as he lit it.
“At least it’s nice out.” He stated softly and you wondered if he was talking to you or not. “You always had a rotten sense of humour. Your punch lines are killers.” He put the cig back in his mouth and flicked up the collar of his coat before striding off into the weather. He skirted around the taxi and to your surprise someone stepped out. He was young, he had a flat cap on and he clearly knew the rude redhead.
“Armitage!” He shouted. “For fuck sake Hux it’s raining!” Armitage Hux. You’d heard his name around the precinct, he moved in cult circles, demonology…
“Detective!” You dragged your gaze away from the taxi to the voice that called you. It was Ben, you rushed forward sliding into his car, wiping the rain off your hair.
“How did you know where I was?” You asked.
“Just a hunch.” He looked over at you, pity and concern written all over his face. “Do you want to go and get drunk?”
“My sister just died.” He sighed and leaned back in his seat.
“I know I’m sorry. Just thought you could use a distraction. I know I could.”
“Why do you need one?” He shook his head, looking out at the rain. When he spoke again his voice was strained.
“Do you know what it was like? To be the first on the scene and to see…you floating face up in that pool? I had no idea she was your twin.” Oh god. You hadn’t even considered what it would have been like for your partner, no one had ever met your sister. They knew about her but that was it.
Gemma Masters taking over the Millhouse and fixing it suddenly reentered my brain so I’m gonna talk about some details:
- I think I mentioned this before, but Chas is Gemma’s legal guardian since John left when she showed up into the crew’s life. Gemma usually goes with Chas to visit Geraldine up in New York
- Speaking of her living situation, Gemma escaped a cult her parents were in via her uncle, but she went into foster care since John was terrified of her being anywhere near his life. She ran away from home to find him
- Jim and Zed are engaged and currently planning their wedding. Zed officially does sketches for the police, while both operate in Atlanta, Georgia. They don’t live at the Millhouse but go there often for magic matters
- Gemma is close friends with the Hex Girls. They’re aware she’s an amateur mage, and she makes it a point to go to as many of their shows as she can. She does songwriting with them as a way to relax
- The Millhouse is falling apart! Gemma decides to spend the entire summer fixing it up alongside Chas, Zed, and Jim. She also renovates the inside, although definitely is more careful about that part
Also, Legends go to John for help (reluctantly) and he’s like “We need to go to the Millhouse” so they can get magic stuff. Emotional rollercoaster as soon as he gets there
