cw creepy whumper, intimate whumper, noncon touching (nonsexual but very intimate), creepy language throughout, objectification (nonsexual), religious abuse, gaslighting, just overall warning desmond really amps the creepy-abusiveness to 1000
---
"You know, feathers," Desmond mused, "I'm curious about you."
Leif glanced up, unpleasant butterflies skittering in his stomach. "What about me?" he stammered.
"How you can fly like that," he pointed at his back. "A good solid wing on one side and a tattered thin piece of crap on the other."
The demon shrugged, folding his wings behind him. "I don't know, sir. I manage."
"Hmm..." Desmond mused with a lazy grin," I can't help but wonder what a demon wing feels like. Does it feel gristly? Bony? Rough like sandpaper?"
In a single bound he leapt off the armchair like a panther, loping towards the spirit. Leif wrapped his arms across his midsection, tentatively taking a step backwards.
"Don't-- please don't touch me," he whispered.
Desmond just laughed, brushing his fingers along Leif's shoulder, skittering nearer to the middle of his back.
"Cmon, just a quick brush. I've never touched a papery wing like yours."
Too close too close too close
His demon wing sprang out, *thwacking* the human in the face.
Desmond snarled. With one hand he twisted his fingers in Leif's hair, the other he yanked the demon's head back by one of his horns.
"You don't push away a human, feathers," he hissed into his ear, "Ever. Do you understand?"
"Y-yes sir."
"You're beneath me. Angels were made to serve humans. You exist to serve me. If I want to look at you, touch you, cut you to ribbons, then by God you'll present yourself to my will."
Leif swallowed hard, pain streaking out from the strain on his horn. White spots swirled across his vision.
"What do you say?"
"... Sorry. I'm sorry, sir."
"No, idiot." Desmond twisted his fist down, yanking Leif's head sideways. The spirit bit down a whine. "You should thank me for giving a worm like you a purpose."
Tears pricked Leif's eyes from the tension on his scalp.
"I'm waiting," he sneered, jerking his fist impatiently.
"Tha--augh--thank you, s-sir."
"For what?"
"For give--giving me a purpose." Leif grunted.
"'I exist to serve you.' " Desmond waited. "Say it."
Leif shut his eyes, breathing hard.
"Say it!"
"I exist to serve." Leif bit out.
Silence. The human dug his nails into Leif's horn threateningly, increasing the pressure.
"You think you're being so coy, huh?" Desmond asked, his voice deathly still.
A sudden twist of his wrist, a sickening crack sounded too close to Leif's ear. His horn exploded with pain, and he yelled.
"Stop, it hurts!"
"That's what happens when you disobey." Desmond said coldly.
In one swift gesture, he smashed Leif’s head against the floorboards. He quickly pinned the demon down on his stomach while he was stunned, digging his knee between the shivering wings. A fierce grin split his face as he felt the spirit start to writhe beneath him.
"Sir, I want to go!"
"Oh we're well past sir." Desmond laughed.
A wave of shock and agony passed through Leif as the human roughly groped the base of his wing, and he cried out.
"Wait, wait, wait! Sir, please!"
"You’ll call me master now.” Desmond grunted as another wail escaped the spirit’s lips, “ And by God, you’re going to learn to thank me every second of it.”
Note: takes place in the recovery arc, much later on than the other pieces. But he does get better so yay hang in there.
Whumptober 2022 Masterlist
The Good Demon Masterlist
tw: panic attack, ptsd thoughts/flashback, conditioned thoughts, more on the comfort side of h/c but dont worry angst is there
“Asa, I don’t think I like this,” Leif stammered, wobbling in the skates that were just too big.
“You’re doing great!” the angel encouraged, skating beside him in fast, even strokes.
Leif took a hesitant step forward, and threw his arms out. “But what if I fall?”
“I’ll be right here if you do. Well, me or the snow. And you’ll get right back up again. It just takes practice.”
“Sure, practice—” Paris rolled his eyes, sliding past them on one foot, “—if you’re not a diva on ice like me—ahh!”
Asa and Leif watched as the demon lost his footing and crashed against the slope.
“Yeah, Paris. You’re a real diva on that snowbank,” Asa shouted playfully. “You gonna make a snow angel?”
“He can’t,” Leif laughed, “ demons can’t make—”
You can’t be an angel because you’re a demon.
His laugh faded, and he furrowed his brow.
“You okay?” Asa prodded.
“Yeah, yeah I’m fine.”
He had to do this. He couldn’t disappoint his friends. Leif narrowed his eyes and focused on the present, the brisk air, the tang of snow in the wind. One stroke, then another. Long, short. Wobbly, shaky, stable, then fumbling forward again.
But he didn’t fall.
“Look at you!” Asa grinned, stepping back to watch. “You’re a natural!”
Leif picked up speed, a smile growing on his face. “Yeah… Yeah! I think I’m getting the hang of—”
He turned a corner too quick, twisting the skate. Leif slipped. The ice broke underneath him.
In an instant, he was falling into icy coldness. Water surrounded him, pulling him deeper and deeper into the darkness. It made him heavy, made his wings sink, made him never able to come back up to see the light. Blue-blackness closed in around him.
He was dead. He was dead, he was back in hell and stuck in the hole and he’d never get out because he was always bad--
“Hey, hey! Look at me!”
The water broke around his face. Leif lurched forward with a gasp.
“Leif, can you hear me?” Asa’s voice bled into his consciousness.
“What the hell happened?” Paris rushed over.
“Leif fell in.”
Oh no. He’d messed up, already. Just like he always did, because that’s all he ever did, he couldn’t be a good demon or a good angel and they were gonna yell--
“Holy shit Leif are you okay?”
“I’m sorry!” he whined, “I’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorry!”
“Leif, Leif—hey, stop! You’re okay!” Paris shouted, struggling to calm him down. “You didn’t do anything wrong!”
“B-b-but I m-messed up,” Leif said through chattering teeth, “I ru-ruined ev-v-verything.”
“God, you’re freezing,” Paris immediately ripped off his trench coat and tucked it around his shoulders. “Take this, put this on.”
The shivering demon shook his head. “I sh-shouldn’t have f-fallen in. That… That was stupid...”
“Accidents happen, man. It’s fine.”
His blue lips trembled, “But I’m an—”
“No—” Paris shook his head.
“Hey, look at me.” Asa crouched down in front of Leif. “Whatever that jerk Everett said to you, it’s not true. Okay? ”
Asa’s black hair was dripping around his face, framing his brown eyes and tawny face. His jacket was dripping too. Leif cocked his head.
“Y-y-you… you saved me?”
“Of course I did, I said I’d catch you if you fell, yeah?” Asa’s voice was soft, but Leif could hear the tinge of sadness. “We’re here, Leif. You’re going to be okay, alright?”
Leif nodded, looking from Asa to Paris. They weren’t s-- the human. They were his friends, and they’d stuck through so much before and after Desmond had bullied him.
“...Yeah…”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I think I will be okay.”
“C’mon,” Asa put a hand under Leif’s arm, lifting him to his feet. “Let’s get some cocoa and warm up.”
~*~*~
😎 Pick one thing about your OC and describe it in detail. (their smile, their eyes, the way they walk, their voice, etc.) - for Leif?
📃 List a few words, without any explanation, that have to do with ideas you have for future stories or chapters that may or may not ever get written.
🥇 Pick one aspect of your story that you are particularly fond of. Anything at all.
-verkja
from this ask game
thanks for the ask, verkja! (and thanks for specifying a character lmao)
😎 i'm going to go with how they fly. Leif starts out with dark, withered wings that are disproportionately large to his body. That makes his flying go ba-thump-thump, holding steady for a few seconds then needing to flap them a couple times to stay balanced. Later on, one of his wings mysteriously swaps with his angel friend Asa, a snow white wing flecked with gold. That wing matches his size better but now he has mismatched wings. This makes his flying super erratic, with both wings flapping out of rhythm and causing his flight pattern to be wonky. As he gets better, he stabilizes his pattern, and his demon wing flaps once for every two-three times his angel wing does. He'll be flying smoothly yet!
📃 in future stories:
- end of world prompts forbidden love confession and roadtrip across the apocalypse.
- someone who keeps missing death gets mistaken for a hero of the gods and is hired on by the gods' broker.
- afterlife morticians: welcome to the midlife.
🥇 it's going to sound weird but i'm fond that my characters make mistakes. I can't think of a single protag who hasn't. Even Leif, he's going to sow a few wild oats (not so much in the whump space as his main story, although he does have a big flaw in the story i'm posting here). I'm glad for that, it's a logical development for his character and moves him away from feeling too goody two shoes or cinnamon roll-y.
It was beautiful, in a delicate, horrific sort of way.
The chamber was a soft, warm off-white. Spread throughout the chamber where dozens of eyes. So many eyes on all the screens. Carefully placed between the screens were mirrors, so that everywhere one looked, the eyes were staring, watching, judging.
Out of the screens came voices, hundreds and hundreds of voices. Some were shouts, some were whispers. Harsh, soft, light, deep: they echoed off the walls, falling down to the floor, wherever that was. Fluttered up into the corners of the ceiling, swirling around until they grew to be an endless commentary on every moment of every moment.
In the middle of all this was suspended a spirit with mismatched wings, hanging upside down. His wrists and ankles were bound with harsh leads, digging into his bones.
Heavy chains dropped from the ceiling, a dark contrast to the airy lightness of the chamber. They circled his arms and legs, gripping him tight and weighing him down. Fine silver hooks curved through the tips of his wings, hauling them up painfully balanced on pinpricks of steel.
Leif had given up struggling hours ago. Every movement sent horrible shivers through his body. His pale eyes stared ahead dully, avoiding the cold gaze of the orbs that flickered around him. He could ignore them, focus on his own ragged reflection staring back at him upside down.
But he couldn’t ignore the voices. There was no escape from the constant noise around him. His mind begged for silence, sweet golden silence.
Disappointing. A real fail for an angel. Oh right, you’re a demon.
Not even a good one.
Too ugly to be an angel, too weak to be a demon.
Humans would be more graceful than you.
He wanted to cry for his friends, for Asa and Paris.
Angels don’t weep.
He wanted to beg forgiveness from Master Everett and from Raoul.
Do you realize how filthy you are?
Accept your purification without complaint.
He wanted to scream for the voices to stop. But he couldn’t, not with the thick roll of tape wrapped around the lower half of his face.
Failure
Waste of spirit
Monster Freak
Can’t be an angel….
Hell didn’t even want you.
Leif jerked forward, wriggling his body and flailing his wrists. A thin line of red streaked down his arms. He had to get down, to get away from all the noise. He tugged frantically until his skewered wings trembled in agony. But the ropes held firm, chafing his ankles and wrists until the friction burned. He wasn’t strong enough to get down.
He wasn’t strong enough.
What would your angel think, hm? A voice like Master Everett’s whispered beside his ear, Being stuck with you? Think they’re sick of you yet?
No! Asa was his friend, he cared about him. Paris cared about him. They weren’t stuck. Were they?
You’re a burden to everyone.
Always tagging along, holding them back.
Dragging them down by their wings.
Leif threw back his head, whining. A tear broke free from his eyes, trickling down over his brows.
Silly demon. You don’t deserve a second chance. You don’t even deserve those wings of yours.
Leif couldn’t speak, choking on all the sobs stuffed down his thoat.
So shut up and listen to our wisdom like a good angel.
Beneath the voices, a high pitched static pierced his ears, crackling around the chamber and permeating every corner. It screeched and wailed, worming into the deepest bits of his mind, coating it with shrieking noise.
The chains rattled from each sob that wracked his weary frame. Leif closed his eyes, letting the weight of his sins pull him down, waiting for the guilt to rip his wings out of their sockets so that he could fall endlessly into the darkness and the screams and voices that never ever stopped.
Whumptober 2022 Masterlist
The Good Demon Masterlist
prev
A bit of a softer, angsty piece today. Plenty of self-loathing and whump aftermath though.
“You doing okay, Leif?”
The demon jerked his head up, folding his wings back more tightly. The pain made him dizzy.
“Yeah? Yeah.”
Asa raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?”
There was a hole in his wing and every step made the room shake. He just wanted to sleep.
Sleep? Angels don’t need sleep you idiot.
“Yeah,” he ground his teeth to hide a yawn. “What’s up?”
“You’ve just been quieter than usual.” Asa hopped up onto the railling, his wings smoothly cutting the air and gracefully folding behind him. A pang of jealousy shot through Leif as his own wings screamed. If only he could fly that good.
You’re lucky to be here at all, demon, Desmond’s voice whispered in his head.
Asa gestured to the space beside him, “Wanna come on up?”
That was really high. The hole in his wing was hidden by feathers, but it still throbbed.
“S-sure.”
He opened his wings choppily and jumped forward.
The room spun around him and circles dotted his vision.
*Crash!*
The iron bar dug into his stomach, knocking the wind out of him. Maybe he’d finally pass out.
He wasn’t so lucky.
“Woah, Leif!”
Sorry, sorry, sorry.
His feet kicked out and his wings flailed.
Asa yelped as a wing smacked his face. Leif jolted up with panic. He’d just hit an angel. He'd be punished, he'd get dunked again, held down for hours.
“Sorry, sorry, im sorry.” He shimmied himself until he finally was sitting on the raililng. “I didn’t mean any--”
“Leif, you’re fine.” Asa laughed, but his eyes showed worry. “Are you okay?”
The world swung precariously underneath him. Leif hooked his feet around the bars, terrified of falling.
“I’m okay,” he croaked.
“What happened?”
I just want to sleep, he wanted to cry. I’m cold and miserable and I’m terrible for existing.
“I’m just really clumsy,” he stammered, “it’s bad for an angel, I know. I’m still just a demon--”
“Leif--”
“but I’m trying but I know trying isnt good enough because you need—”
“Hey, hey. You’re doing fine. You know that right?”
Leif stared into Asa’s dark, honest eyes. “Y-yeah?”
You do want me up here, right?
“Yeah!” The angel smiled, and it was contagious. A small ray of sunshine trickled into Leif’s soul, warming him up the tiniest bit.
Of course he would. He’s Asa. Asa’s my friend.
For a second, he forgot the ridges of pain in his wings.
The demon grinned and looked away. [don’t want to disappoint asa]
He could do this. He could be an angel.
Even if it killed him.
~*~*~
Whumptober no.4: Dead on Your Feet
Can't Pass Out
taglist: @aseasonwithclaraold
let me know if you would like to be added or removed from my taglist
hey hey! guess who hasnt written proper in 2 months, got to a Summer of Whump prompt a day late and decided to write a fucking 1k behemoth of an entry?
I'm not going to tag and send this version for the event. I'm going to scrub the names and references to the world building (aka trim it down by a lot) and send that in. you can read that here.
Leif is an OC i've been teasing on this blog for a while, and you can read his only other current piece here. Paris is a pure demon oc in this same universe. Sometimes he's a whumpee, sometimes he's a caretaker, just depends on who he's with.
If you can't tell the prompt was for day 11: forced to watch. enjoy!
~*~~*
Paris snarled as the guards dragged him to his feet, tugging painfully at the chains that circled his ankles.
They pushed him against the pillar. So he was going to get beat up again, who cared. Just a bunch of sick fucks who got pleasure out of torturing a wingless demon.
But the two open wounds where his wings once grew already throbbed and smarted with fear.
"Paris."
He stiffened. He knew that voice, he knew. Twisting his neck, Paris jerked his head back, looking around wildly.
And locked eyes with Leif. His messy white hair and mismatched wings and fucking pain stood out from the dark writhing mass of bodies and cruelty that closed in around him.
No. No, no, no. What was he doing here? He wasn't supposed to be in this nightmare.
"Wait," he muttered, stiffening. "Oriphiel…. L-lord Oriphiel, wait."
Paris felt the razors in the smile of the cherubim. "What do you want, little demon?"
"Take him out of here."
The razors sharpened until they could draw blood. "What do you mean?"
"Not in front of the spirit. he cant see me like this. You can fuck me up however you want, just don't..."
Just what? Spare his dignity? His pride? His fucking friend cuz god knew Leif would be horrified and never look at him the same again?
"...Don't make him watch. Please."
"You unworthy, ungrateful wretch." Oriphiel tugged on the demon's horn, pulling back his head until Paris' back arched painfully. "I gave you a far lower punishment than you deserve, and you repay my boundless mercy with this audacity?"
Paris glared at the cherubim, gritting his teeth through the shocks of pain shooting through his skull.
"And yet, you did debase yourself to beg," they murmured, eyeing him with disdain. "That deserves recognition. Guards!"
Three uniformed faceless monsters detached themselves from the crowd and approached.
"Bring the hybrid forward," Oriphiel ordered, "The demon feels it's beneath him to be punished, so the hybrid will take it in his stead."
"What?! No! No! That's not what I wanted!" Paris thrashed in the grip of the soldiers, digging his claws into the pillar will all his might. "Stop! Take me back!"
"You had the chance, little demon. But you chose to murmur against the will of a god."
"Damn you!"
"It's your pride that's damned him. Consider that."
Oh god, it was Leif and he had handcuffs on his wrists. Why did he look so calm? How long had be been here? God, had he been through this before?
"Leif," Paris stammered as the creatures brought him close, "What the hell are you doing here? You've got to get out of here, don't let them do this!"
"Paris, it's okay," Leif said quietly before the guards shoved him forward. "I'll get through it."
"No! Leif!" Paris strained against the chain around his neck. "Don't touch him, you sick fucks!"
"Watch closely, little demon," Oriphiel said, clawing a fistful of his hair, "You chose this, after all."
The first hook dug into Leif's flesh, curved and precise. He staggered and clung to the pillar, wings flailing. White hot rage blinded Paris, and he lurched forward, screaming curses and unintelligible threats.
"I swear to god, angel, i'll tear every fucking bit of spirit out of your goddamn essence! So help me fuck, I'll make you pay!"
"Paris--" Leif coughed, "Paris, stop it. That's what they want--hnng--"
Three more lashes cut through the spirit's body in fast succession. The next blow hooked around and sliced at his leg. Leif's bit down cries of pain hurt Paris more than the beatings of the last three days.
"Stop it! Leave him alone! Punish me!"
"Oh, I think I am," the cherubim murmured, "Look at how much pain you're in? It's surprising, honestly, for a demon to be so invested in the wellbeing of another."
They motioned to the henchman. With a nod, the creature cracked the weapon against Leif once more. The hook dug into the base of his wing.
Leif shrieked in agony. With a sneer, the henchman approached and shoved it in at an angle. Terror skewered Paris' chest, robbing him of air.
"No. You wouldn't." Paris looked up at Oriphiel. "Y-you wouldn't dare."
"Oh wouldn't I?"
They motioned with their fingers. The guard tugged at the embedded hook, tearing another cry out of Leif's throat. Paris' own scars burned. He knew exactly what this felt like. Exactly what was coming.
It was the last thing he could ever want for Leif.
"Don't. Don't rip out his wings."
"Watch your words, demon. You're not in a position to tell me anything."
"You're an angel! Don't you understand how sacred they are?! You'll destroy him!"
The guard curved the hook until its silver tip began to pierce through to the other side. Leif gripped the chain with shaking hands as his body spasmed with agony.
"High Lord Oriphiel, please!"
Without a word, the angel turned and struck Paris across the face, knocking him to the floor.
"Hold." Oriphiel turned back to the faceless guard, raising their hand.
The creature waited expectantly, but Oriphiel shook their head and lowered their hand. With a roar, it removed the hook in a violent, swift gesture. Leif staggered and clung to the pillar, gasping and sobbing, his wings fluttering weakly.
"Do you understand your lesson, worm?"
Paris nodded frantically. "Yeah-- yes. I do. I have--"
"Do you understand?!"
"Yes! Yes, I've learned my place!" Paris' voice cracked. "Just don't--don't hurt him anymore. He doesn't deserve this."
Oriphiel leaned down and grabbed the chain around Paris' neck, roughly pulling him up.
"I've shown you both mercy on this day, little demon. Do not tempt my justice again."
They flung Paris back to the floor.
"Don't take him away just yet," they ordered the guards, "I want him to really see what he's done."
tagging @whump-world cuz i know you like caretaker whump. hope that isnt forward of me.
"You... you should go, Paris," Leif whispered. His hands weakly clutched the demon's arm.
"What? No," Paris stuttered, "I'm not leaving you!"
"It's o-okay," Leif burst into a fit of coughing, cerulean blood trickling out between his lips. The spirit's wings twitched, wracking his shoulders violently. "I'll-- I'll be fine. The guards, they can't find you--"
"I already took care of the guards. You're not getting rid of me. Not until help comes. That's final."
Leif opened his mouth, but didn't protest. The world fell silent, muffled cries of battle beating on the walls but never breaking through. The spirit squinted up at Paris.
"You're bleeding too?" he whispered.
"Yep."
"Hmm," he nodded. "Paris?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm really tired."
Agony stabbed Paris' chest. "I know, I know you are."
The demon pulled Leif closer into his arms. Where were the others? Why hadn't they gotten here yet? How long could they hold out with Leif so weak?
"I just want to sleep," the spirit murmured, eyelids fluttering, "I think I could sleep forever."
"I'm sure you could, but you need to stay awake, okay?"
"Mmmm..."
"Asa and Raoul, they're coming. They're gonna know how to fix you." The demon pushed a sweaty lock of hair out of Leif's face. "Hey. Open your eyes."
Pale eyes blinked and flashed for a moment, struggling to stay open. "So cold. So, so cold."
"Look at me. Hey!"
Leif mumbled something incoherent, settling into Paris' hold. His eyes didn't open. Paris pulled Leif up to his chest, rocking him back and forth in time with his own heartbeat.
"Just hold on." He whispered, scanning the horizon and begging for help from a god he didn't trust. "Please, please, please hold on."
