#mepseries

The other demon had longer hair, darker than Toms, he hadn’t pushed it back or styled it at all, instead letting the straight strands sit around his face. The other one spoke, though you couldn’t hear what he was saying, for the most part, he talked with his hands, while Harrison’s- King Harrisons, you supposed you’d have to get used to that- arms remained crossed over his chest as he nodded along, he seemed tense.

“King Harrison” Harry walked up to the centre of the room and you followed.

“What-“ Harrison spat the syllable as he turned around. His eyes were black but turned back into icy blue when he noticed the two of you, his wings straightening at the same time. He looked back at the other demon, saying something to him. The demon nodded in response, glanced at Harry and nodded again, which Harry reciprocated. King Harrison walked over to the two of you, “Harry you may go. How are you feeling, angel?”

“I’m uh” You watched as Harry bowed his head, he smiled at you before leaving with the other demon through the large doors behind you. You didn’t want him to go, you’d only just woken up and he was the only person you’d come to interact with since. You trusted him. Watching him head out the door you hoped he’d turn around to see that you didn’t want him to go. But he didn't.

It was just you and Harrison now, “I’m okay, I suppose” You avoided looking at him, suddenly uncomfortable now that you had the energy to be uncomfortable.

“You suppose?” You could feel Harrison’s gaze resting on you as you nodded slightly, “Well, angel. Let’s go for a walk and we can chat, yes?” You wanted to cut him off. Tell him your actual name. Bombard him with questions. But he was the King of Hell. You were taught to fear him.

You followed a pace behind him in the long halls, taking in the dark walls lined with candelabras, even though light streamed through the windows giving you a glimpse to the outside. It was light out but the ground was dark and sandy, cracking at some parts like the dry deserts you’d heard of on Earth but never visited. King Harrison walked leisurely through the halls, his hands shoved in his pockets but back straight and tall. You remember him telling you about hours that he’d spent working on posture alone as a teen. How his father had said “A King who slouches is no King at all” and he said that he’d never fully understood it.

“Do you have any questions, angel?” Harrison gaze had hardly left you. You’d gotten used to everyone calling you ‘angel’ although you would very much prefer your own name still.

“Only a couple, your highness” You replied sheepishly.

“Well, ask away”

“Why save me? And how long have I been down here? And why the flowers?” The words spill from your lips in a rush, it makes the King smile, a small chuckle slipping from his throat.

“Human time or realm time?” There was a softness in his voice. Something that made it lighter than you’d expect from a demon. It was… comforting.

“Human”

“You arrived here five human weeks ago” His smile faded and he became visibly uncomfortable with whatever was about to follow, the next words were spoken slowly, hesitation in each one, “You were in the basement of the castle for” he inhaled deeply “two human weeks” King Harrison cleared his throat. “And you were sick in your room for three of them” He finished, leaving you to ponder. It’d felt like much longer.

“My room?” You questioned. Your room. In the castle. In Hell.

“Your room, If you choose to stay, of course,” The King continued after giving you a moment to think over what he had said: “The flowers. Lilac coloured hyacinths. They’re apologetic” You nodded along.

“They were one of my mother’s favourite” You whispered. Either King Harrison didn’t hear you, or he didn’t acknowledge it. You continued, “And why did you bother saving me?”

“Ah right that well,” He cleared his throat, removing his hands from his pockets and clasping them behind his back, his eyes fell to his feet, “I’m rather drawn to you, angel. In a way that I can’t begin to explain. It’s not lust, although will not pretend that lust isn’t a portion of it. As you are um…” His confidence faltered, “The dress uh… I’m going to stop digging my own grave” You laughed at his sudden awkwardness and he did as well upon seeing that you had.

“Well, your majesty that’s very kind of you. However, you didn’t need to push off the conversation earlier. I don’t mind waiting, sir” You noticed how he cringed slightly at the formalities. You weren’t sure if he had done that while you were dying. You were too distracted by, well, dying, to notice.

“Actually the conversation was about you. In a way. It had started off about Iezebel, my wife as you know. And then Sam told me how you were doing. Just stuff about your fever and how it may have broken but he wasn’t sure. And then Harry brought you to us, so we no longer were unsure” You nodded. The halls grew silent apart from your steps, you in your own thoughts and the King in his. Both of you went to speak at the same time, you let him go first.

“What’s your name, angel?”

“Y/N,” You noticed how King Harrison’s eyes widened, immediately switching to a slightly furrowed brow before going back to an expression of content. The shift in expressions passed in a fraction of a second.

“Beautiful name. It suits you”

“Thank you, your highness” You paused for a second, allowing him to speak if you’d like to. “You are nothing like the King we learn of in heaven. At least, not from what I’ve seen so far. Pardon me for my assumptions”

“Oh no it’s perfectly alright, Y/N” He hesitates before saying your name, so used to calling you angel that it’s become habitual. “Tell me about the Kings you learn of?” He phrases it as a question.

“They say a lot of things. I’m not sure how much of it is true, granted it’s all were taught and were told to trust it. They say that they’re all terrifying and aggressive and ruthless”

“Some are” King Harrison chimed in, you acknowledged it with a nod but continued on.

“They always said that demons are nothing but bad. Not an ounce of good in them but not even angels are entirely good. Not a single angel has never done anything bad. So why would a demon be anything but?” You finish your small ramble and look up at the King as he goes to speak.

“There are demons like that. Ones that think with nothing but dark thoughts. My father was like that. Tom-” he swallows, “Tom is like that. Though he wasn’t always. He wanted to kill you as soon as you got here and I refused. When we were younger-” King Harrison cuts himself off. He seems as though he wants to continue, but doesn’t “That’s a story for another day” he says.

“And you? What are you like?” you ask after a moment of silence. Curiosity was ever growing in your mind.

It was a much more loaded question than you had intended it to be. That’s years- centuries- of insecurity and shame. Harrison knows it’s too much to unload on his first day of knowing you. Sure, he’s talked to you much before but this was the first time that he could really know about you. The first time talking with you rather than at you. He didn’t want to screw it up. Didn’t want to mess with the weird feeling in his stomach that he had. He knew it was good.

What a heavy question that was. Harrison knew what his father was like. Ruthless and cruel, the idealistic King of Hell. Harrison couldn’t think of a single demon who disliked the way his father reigned. His grandfather was almost as well like as his father. The only thing that separated them was the way they responded to Heaven.

At 2,655 human years, or 9 realm years, Harrison could remember his father spending hours on end planning on attacking heaven. He wasn’t sure how long before that he’d be planning but when it came time to enact, it fell through.

Despite the demons that were lost, Hell still honoured him for trying.

Four realm years later, King Frederick got sick. They suspected it was something that he got in Heaven that sat dormant in the demons system for the time between his return and his diagnosis.

And then five realm years later, he died. A week after that, Harrison was coronated, given no time to grieve.

He cursed himself when the flame went out, only to look over at Dom who was smiling wide.

“My King. That was the best you’ve ever done. I think we can start to move on”

--

Harry’s elbow was linked with yours as the two of you wandered the halls. You walked leisurely, guiding wherever the two of you went while Harry said what halls you’d already been down, what rooms were off limits, and kept light conversation. He was just as curious about heaven as you were of Hell.

You’d been silent for a moment now, Harry seemed to notice.

“What’s on your mind, Y/N?” He looked at you curiously, wondering what was going on inside the head of a being meant to be so innocent who was in a place the polar opposite.

“Can we go outside of the castle?” You looked over at him as the two of you slowed to a stop.

“I don’t think you’re quite ready for that” Harry shook his head. “Or rather, Hell isn’t ready for you. Contrary to what you’d think, the demons outside the castle are much worse than most of us inside. They wouldn’t be very welcoming to you, especially if they found out you were an angel. Wait until your wings grow in, it’ll be easier then” You could only nod as you started walking again, arm still hooked with Harry’s.

“Harry” A voice rang from down the hall and Harry turned around, making you do the same. You watched as Tom approached, back straight, wings stretched wide off his back, his eyes red and puffy. Even from so far away you saw his fists and jaw clenched, his palms reddening as he recognized you.

“Why isn’t she downstairs?” Tom glared at you, staring daggers into your soul.

“King's orders. You can’t do anything about it Tom” Harry spoke nonchalantly, you appreciated him defending you but still felt small under his gaze, “What do you need, Tom?”

Toms eyes never left you, he was fuming.

“It can wait. Find me when you’re not babysitting” Tom turned on his heel and headed off down the hall you had just come from.

“Babysitting?” You mumble to Harry as you hear a door slam down the hall.

“No, just. Ignore him” Harry shakes his head as he pulls you down the hall and down a flight of stairs to explore another floor of the castle that seemed to get larger and larger the more you wandered.

—

“Harrison, what the fuck” Tom shouted after the door shut behind him.

Harrison shut the book he was reading quickly and shoved it back on the shelf before turning around, hoping that Tom didn’t notice the copy of Angelic History from 300 B.C. to 1500 A.D. He’d already read everything up until then except they were missing the copy for 2100 B.C to 300 B.C so there are800 years he’d never know about.

“Hm?” Harrison’s voice was much calmer than Toms. He started to walk down an aisle of books, knowing perfectly well that Tom would follow. “What’d I do this time to piss you off?”

“Why the fuck is there an angel wandering the halls of the royal castle of Hell?” He made sure to articulate a few words more harshly than others. Including fuck, angel, wandering, royal, and Hell. Although nothing about the phrase was cheerful. All of his words were spat.

“She’s not wandering, she’s got Harry”

“Oh yeah, cause a babysitter will help if she decides to do anything rash”

“He’s more of a tour guide if you ask me” Harrison thumbed through the books, he’d already read most of them but still pick them up, read -or at least glanced at- the summaries and then put them back.

“Cut the shit, Harrison. What are you doing?” Tom cut Harrison off.

“What do you mean?” He was tempted to give Tom another snarky remark but decided against it. Tom was clearly angry and Harrison didn’t want to push it any further. He put back Pride and Prejudice, glancing at Tom as he pulled out The Great Gatsby and reading the summary.

“What’s gotten into you, Harrison? You’ve let some random angel into our realm, who knows what she’s going to do. We don’t even know why she’s here” Tom gestured as he spoke. First towards the door and then wherever he could, nearly hitting his arm off the shelves.

“Tom she doesn’t have her wings anymore, she can’t do anything even if she wanted to”

“You don’t know that-“

“I do” Harrison cut Tom off, his voice was still calm despite the fact that inside he was caught somewhere between fuming anger and enraging self-doubt. Harrison turned towards Tom, “I know. Because I’ve read about it” Harrison maintains eye contact with Tom and hopes that he’ll break it first. Harrison had always been a debater, willing to back up anything he says with some sort of proof. Which is why it doesn’t come as a shock to Tom that he knows if the angel can or can’t do anything. Tom can feel his anger starting to get the best of him. Instead of trying to calm down, he’s nearing boiling over.

“Okay but that still doesn’t explain why you just allow her to walk around the castle with only Harry as some form of supervision? I don’t understand where you’re coming from”

“You never do-“

“What are you in love with her or something?” Tom blurts it out. It was meant rhetorical and sarcastic but when Harrison’s eyes finally break contact with Tom’s to stare at the spines of books as he starts to chew on the inside of his cheek, Tom realizes he’s hit something.

“No- I’m not- It’s just- I” Harrison stumbles over his words, unsure of how to defend himself.

“Mate. You can’t seriously think you love her. You hardly know her. That angel’s been nothing but your little diary for the last few weeks and suddenly you think you love her? Harrison, your wife” Tom pauses for a second. Inhale, exhale, continue. “Your wife just died, and suddenly you think you’re in love with some angel who happened to be there when she did? That’s not-” Tom finishes his sentence with a sigh, but Harrison knows what he means. It’s not right, and even if they are demons, there are some things even they don’t do. He takes a deep breath and looks back at Tom.

“It’s not love. Okay, Tom? I don’t know what it is but it’s not the same feeling I had with Iezebel”

There was a long moment of silence.

“You really have no clue what you’re doing” Tom mutters, laughing to himself and crossing his arms over his chest.

“What?” Harrison looks at Tom. Full offence written all over his face while Tom continues to chuckle.

“Everything that you’re doing as King it’s just-” Tom shakes his head lightly, “What would the other demons think of what you’re doing? You know, the general population? The ones you rule over? Yeah, those ones” Tom was taunting Harrison.

“Oh and Iezebel! If she could see you now imagine how angry she’d be with you. Or your father? The greatest King we’ve ever had? And to see his only son keeping an angel in the castle? His ONLY SON who can hardly make a flame? Disappointing”

Heat had long since risen to Harrison’s face and ears. They were deep red, his fists clench and chin jut out. While Tom…

He seemed light as air.

“Honestly I would be too. I can only imagine what he thinks” Harrison looked up at Tom as he finished. Tom was shaking his head. How could someone so weak be King?

As Tom left the library he could only think that Harrison didn’t deserve to be King. He didn’t deserve half of what he got and yet it was still his.

Everything was his.

“Why?” It felt like tunnel vision. Nothing existed or mattered outside of what this guard was telling him.

“We’re not sure, your majesty. We couldn’t hold them back. I’m very sorry” The guard, Amaros, spoke slowly, his breath finally regulated.

“Sorry doesn’t bring her back, now does it?” Harrison stormed off, Harry following in close tow.

“Uh your highness don’t you think-” Harry started.

“Go away, Harry. Do something useful”

“I would argue that comforting you after your wife’s untimely death is useful” Harrison stopped in his tracks, turning to Harry.

“Quite frankly, I don’t care what you think” Harrison spat the words, “Go do something else, I’m sure there are a billion things that should be done” He turned around and headed further down the hall, taking the stairs at the end all the way down.

Harry wasn’t sure whether he truly meant what he’d said. They’d grown up as best friends and he knew the sudden change in tone between them was awkward for Harrison. It was for him too, but he was taught to treat a King as a King, and Harrison being King doesn’t change that.

He’d be damned if he ended up like his brother.

Tom was jealous of Harrison. Only Tom and Harrison didn’t know it, but there’s no doubt that that’s what it was. Tom had always wanted power, always dreamt of being King as a child, though that would never happen. It wasn’t his bloodline. Frederick and Dom had thought that the two of them growing up together would make things easier as King and right hand. It had for them.

Oh, how they couldn’t be more wrong.

They got along when they were young, yes. Couldn’t have been better friends. The pair might as well have been attached at the hip, they were so close. But after Harrison was coronated, things changed. Harrison had tried to keep them the same, the same close relationship that they had always had, but after so long of trying to maintain it, with no help from Tom, he stopped trying. He gave up on the friendship. Tom was jealous -no, envious- of Harrison.

Tom was envious, bitter, upset, everything he hadn’t been before. As Harry walked by Toms room, he thought he heard quiet sobs through the heavy doors. He should’ve knocked, but decided against it, he’d never seen his brother so dishevelled. Tears ran down Tom’s cheeks. To say Hary was shocked in an understatement. Demons don’t cry.

--

“I’m back” Harrison spoke as he took a seat on the ground in front of you. You groaned internally, this was going to be a conversation, You weren’t sure you had the energy for it but replied anyway. Your father had raised you to be respectful, not that hat helped much while you were down here. Nor did it help with the guilt that came with trying to be banished

“I see that” You cringed slightly at the way your voice sounded; raw, broken, and tired. All of which you felt you were as well. Harrison remained silent for a moment, he started at his hands as he fiddled with his fingers.

“My wife is dead” He didn’t look up. You took a moment longer to look at him, try and get a sense of what he was feeling. It took more energy than you would have liked.

“And yet you don’t grieve”

That made him look up at you. His brows were furrowed, a frown on his lips, but still conveyed nothing but confusion. “That’s not true” Something about his tone made him sound childlike, “She was my wife, I loved her. And some hounds just decide to rip her apart? They’re supposed to protect the King. I don’t think killing his wife is exactly a good way to do that”

“You’re upset, but not grieving. Not the same way others would for their dead love” You weren’t sure where you pulled this energy from, but you knew you shouldn’t be exerting it like you are.

Harrison paused for a moment longer, contemplating. “Explain, angel”

So you did. You explained how for most, a dead wife would be the end of everything for them. To lose someone they care so deeply about. It may be slightly different from angels and humans but that most creatures react the same way. How someone else may have isolated themselves, but the first thing he did was come talk to you about it.

The sudden burst of energy was running out as you were talking. You found yourself fading in and out of consciousness. You stopped in the middle of sentences to pause and regain some energy to finish what you were saying. After around the third time, Harrison spoke before you could carry on.

“Angel, do you want to die?” Harrison questioned. It seemed innocent enough, posed the same way someone would ask what was for dinner.

You shook your head, no. “I’ve come to accept it” Truthfully you didn’t want to die, but it was bound to happen. Even angels don’t live forever. You leaned your head against the wall and closed your eyes. You vaguely remember Harrison standing up and shouting at the guards before you slipped out once more.

“I don’t care what you have to do, just save her”

tags:

mep

@tonystark-mcu @hollandroos @bi-writes @lovelyh0lland @wazzupmrstark @thirsty-hoes-central @deleteidentity @buckystolemyheart @awesomeaugustina @agirlwithpointlessideas @youngandfleeting @writing-in-winter

haz

Something that everyone thought of you when you were sinning in heaven. That you must be in a bad state of mind. But now you were in hell, and it was a billion times better than anytime you’d spent in heaven, except one memory with your mother and father, the one memory that was playing on repeat.

That one memory is what kept your mind off of the truly bad state you were in right now. You knew it’d happen. Fully anticipated it.

You were sick.

Your wings felt like nothing but weight on your back, you had no energy, you hadn’t been eating the food that you received, which was surprisingly good. You didn’t know what you looked like, but you could imagine it wasn’t pretty. Certainly not angelic. You likely had bags, and your skin was pale and blotchy. You didn’t even have enough energy to reply to King Harrison, who seemed to be spending any time he got down with you, talking about anything that was on his mind.

He talked about himself a lot. Probably due to the fact that you didn’t reply to him. He talked of his father and his childhood, the few things you could retain from those conversations made you realize that you weren’t too different from the other. Both the children of powerful people, who never seemed to be able to live up to the standards made for them.

Why he came to you, you weren’t sure. You thought that maybe it was because he knew you were dying, knew you wouldn’t be around long, so you were someone to vent to with no repercussions.

You were playing that one memory for what must be the millionth time.

Small feet propelled you off the marble flooring, surrounding angels stepped back with short gasps or apologies as you dodged around their legs until you found the ones you were looking for and wrapped your arms tightly around them. You father picked you up and you laughed. He looked so happy. Happier than you’d seen him since this memory. His eyes crinkled at the edges. You hoped he was doing okay up in heaven, hopefully he’s taking care of himself. Hopefully he’s been-

“Angel? Are you alright?” Harrison voice was soft. Softer than you’d expect from a demon.

You somehow muster the energy to nod, letting your eyelids close as you do. There’s no point in trying to fight it, you were dying, you knew this was going to happen. You welcomed it.

“You don’t look alright. Why are you lying?”

“I’m dying, your highness” You croaked out. Your throat was dry. It clearly took Harrison off guard. His response didn’t come until a few seconds later.

“How do you know?”

“I can feel it. I just know” You coughed, it made your muscles hurt. “I knew it’d happen soon” You opened your eyes again and looked at Harrison. He had his arms crossed over his chest as he stared down his feet, one of which tapped rhythmically. He didn’t look happy, if you were any closer you’d be able to see that his jaw was clenched and the lines on his forehead that appeared.

He pivoted on his heel and left the room, the heavy door slamming shut behind him, leaving you and your memory.

Your mother, she looked gorgeous and happy, opened a set of large doors, the same ones that you opened before being sentenced to hell. They seemed bigger. You faintly remember the click of the doors closing as she put you down and you immediately took off. You knew your father would be at the back of the main hall so that’s where you ran. Your wings were small nubs, the pristine white feathers had only just started to take shape.

You looked up at the faces that matched the legs that you ran by looking for your father, every face smiled down at you, all of them knew who you were. Finally finding the face you were looking for, you wrapped you small arms around your father's legs. He picked you up easily, your own laughter echoed in your ears. By the time you were settled on his hip, your mother was in front of you. He kissed her cheek and said something to her, something you couldn’t hear.

Your mother opened a large set of doors, the same ones you’d opened and been inside a million times.

And it repeats.

---

Harrison scouted the fourth floor library, searching through the history books he’d read so many times before. He couldn’t find anything that he needed and it frustrated him. There were pages missing in many of the books, some burnt, maybe what he needed was in there. He’d never know.

“Sir are you really sure about this?” Harry flips through the pages of a book, “I don’t think many demons will be pleased with you. Iezebel especially. She will be absolutely-“

“I know she will be.” Harrison cuts Harry off. “Frankly, I don’t care what she think at this point. I’m King. This is my realm”

“With all due respect sir, is this perchance slightly selfish? At all?” Harrison ignored the question. He would never be fully comfortable with Harry and Tom calling him ‘sir’, ‘your highness’ or anything of the sort. He grew up with them and the sudden formalities since his coronation felt unnatural, even if they mostly came from Harry. Harrison slammed the book shut and rushed off, Harry followed him, nearly tripping over his feet while trying to catch up.

“I don’t know how much longer she’ll be alive for. I don’t know how much time we have to figure out how to save her”

“Your highness” Harrison cringed slightly, “We’ve never saved an angel before”

“There’s a first time for everything, Harry” He stopped abruptly “Just get a few other people and have them search through every book we have, see if they can find something. But Iezebel and Tom cannot know” Harry nods “Harry I trust you”

“Yes, sir” He nodded and was about to turn, someone was shouting for Harrison as they ran down the hall.

“Your highness, it’s the Queen” He spoke between laboured breaths.

“What is it? What happened?” He looked to Harry who looked equally as concerned. Harry shrugged.

“She’s dead, your majesty”

mep

@tonystark-mcu @hollandroos @bi-writes @lovelyh0lland @wazzupmrstark @thirsty-hoes-central @deleteidentity @buckystolemyheart @awesomeaugustina @agirlwithpointlessideas @youngandfleeting @writing-in-winter

haz:

You slept more often when you could, so much so that you didn’t even notice that Harry and Tom had gradually stopped coming down to pull at your feathers until they had stopped entirely. Harry only came to bring food and chat occasionally. The food was better than you expected for what was essentially -no, literally- a prison to you.

Harry was nice, surprisingly, and funny. He always had a joke on hand, some better than others, but jokes none the less. The only demons you’d interacted with that were like the ones you’d been taught about were Tom, Iezebel, and Harrison. But even with Harrison, you couldn’t be sure about.

Speak of the devil, as if on cue he walks in, sits down on the ground, and rests his arms on his knees. The two of you stare at each other for a moment. You, in confusion and him? You couldn’t quite decipher his expression. His lips were pulled back, not quite a smile, more like a straight line, it made him look younger, the way it pushed his cheeks out made them seem chubbier than you knew they were. The silence is broken by Harrison as you raise your eyebrows and tilt your head towards him curiously.

“How are you, angel?” His tone was pleasant, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t confused by just about everything at the moment.

“Could be better” You spoke, giving no emotion other than a small furrow of your brow, though you weren’t even sure he’d notice in the dim lighting.

“How so?” Harrison’s expression didn’t change but his tone seemed mildly offended. So mild you weren’t sure you even heard it, but it was there.

“Oh you know if I wasn’t trapped in a cell” Sarcasm dripped off your voice.

“Darling, what did you expect when you came down here?” He chuckled, his voice nearly accusatory.

You shrugged. “Didn’t matter. Anything was better than heaven”

“Really that bad huh?”

You nodded. “You’re King. Your father was King. You should know better than anyone how much pressure being the child of someone in power can be” Harrison only nodded, averting his gaze to the floor. He mumbled something to himself that you couldn’t quite make out what it was.

“I’ll be honest, I don't really want to keep you down here” He looks back up at you, completely disregarding your side of being the child of someone in power. Though you couldn’t blame him, you wouldn’t want to talk about it either.

“Then don’t” You phrased it like a question and drew out the singular syllable of ‘then’.

“It’s not that easy, angel” He shook his head and pressed his lips together, the same way your father did just before he’d start thinking too hard, the only thing missing was the furrowed brow that created deep creases in his forehead

“You’re the King of Hell. Aren’t you the most powerful being in any realm? What is anyone else going to do about it?” You watched as an uncomfortable expression flickered across his face. It was only there for a second before it was gone.

Harrison stood up, brushing the dirt off of his pants, for the first time, he could see traces of something from you. He wasn’t quite sure what it was but he lied it he hoped it wouldn’t be the last. No angel would do anything to upset people, whether it be their peers, superiors or subordinates. But maybe it’s the fact that he is the King of Hell, maybe you expect more from him than he can give.

“Maybe you do belong here, angel”

Once again, no matter how much he didn’t like it, Harrison was resting on maybe.

a/n part 2: this part sucks. its kinda a filler? idk

tags:

mep:

@tonystark-mcu @hollandroos @bi-writes @lovelyh0lland @wazzupmrstark @thirsty-hoes-central @deleteidentity @buckystolemyheart @awesomeaugustina @agirlwithpointlessideas @youngandfleeting @writing-in-winter

haz:

The door opens again moments later, you expected Harry to come in but when you looked up you were met with the same striking blue eyes you had encountered who knows how long ago. You couldn’t tell anymore, you’ve accepted that.

Harrison squats down so he’s face to face with you. There’s a small growl from behind him, you notice the hound that must have followed him in, he definitely wasn’t there before. Harrison turns to look at the hound still squatted down, he says something to him. You recognize it to be Latin, but are unsure of what’s said. The hound whimpers and immediately lies down as Harrison turns his head back to you.

“So, angel, I really think it’s in your best interest to tell me why you’re here” Harrison looks over your wings as he speaks, taking note of the patchiness.

“I have. Came here because I wanted to” Your voice is monotonous as you speak the same words you’ve said so many times already.

“I am a King, and you will address me as such” he speaks, you look up at him, your gaze challenging his as his eyes went red.

“Sorry. I came to hell because I wanted to, your majesty” There’s a hint of sarcasm behind the words, but not nearly as much as when you’d first met him.

“Better” He mumbles. There’s a moment of silence and you can tell he’s thinking of what to say. “So you really just came here on your own? No one sent you down here to spy on us or anything of the sorts? You deliberately sinned?” You noticed how soft his voice was, he was curious, not interrogating like Tom and Harry, mostly Tom, had been earlier.

“Yes, your highness. No one in heaven has ever sent anyone down to spy on hell. They considered it too damaging”

“And what do you think of it, angel?” Harrison tilted his head.

“I haven’t seen much of it but it doesn’t seem half as bad as it’s made out to be, your majesty”

“So why’d you sin?” Harrison ignored the way you spit the title, his brows were furrowed. “Isn’t heaven supposed to be so wonderful and perfect?”

“Heaven fucking sucks” You spat out, muttering a “your majesty” when you realized that you hadn’t said it. “Everything is white and everyone’s too nice but they also complain constantly. Quite frankly, it’s boring. It was okay for the few hundred years that I could remember but quickly became dreary” You were telling him the truth. Most of it at least. Everything you said was true but you excluded some details that no one needed to know but you. Not until you were out of this room.

He contemplated longer, he worried the inside of his lip with his teeth. You couldn’t sense anything but confusion off of him. You weren’t sure if it was his, your own, or both.

“I believe you”

His eyes faded from the red they had been into the icy blue you had seen before as they met yours. You scanned his face, looking for a trace of any emotion but you couldn’t find any, quite certain that your own features were the polar opposite. You could feel how furrowed your brows were, and how your jaw had immediately slacked at the comment, lips parted in disbelief.

Definitely not what you expected. His expression only changed moments before he stood up. The corner of his lips curved into a smirk, only furthering your confusion and bafflement with the King of Hell. He stood up and left the room, leaving you with more questions than answers.

Why did he believe you?

You didn’t know what to expect when you came to Hell, part of you thought it would be much worse than this. Maybe you’d immediately get sent to whatever ring was appropriate for you. Where do fallen angels go once they’ve fallen? Apparently to the basement of the castle, or at least in your case they did.

Harrison walked along the halls, he’d always known them well. There were rooms that he wasn’t allowed in until got older but he’d never once gotten lost, by accident at least. He’d hidden multiple times from his father, Tom’s father, and anyone else who was sent to find him.

He was 4,690 when he was told that his future wife was moving in. As soon as he was dismissed by his father, he ran. Sprinted through the halls, not thinking of where he was going until he stopped and recuperated, having to figure out where he’d run to by his surroundings.

He stayed there.

Stayed for hours, hidden in a small corner of the library of that floor. He stayed, reading anything he could find. Human books, ridiculous ones about vampires and werewolves, he put that back pretty early on. Other ones about different thoughts of what Hell was like, which he’d laugh at their ridiculousness at times, he’d even started reading about angelic history. To this day, Harrison didn’t know how they got those books, but it was interesting. He read about the Patriarchs in heaven, the Pope on earth, and about their perception of Hell.

But he wasn’t running this time. He wanted to no doubt, but he knew he couldn’t. He was King now. His feet guided him to the room he spent every moment of spare time that he had in. It was embarrassing, he could barely elicit a spark from his palms when he’d first been coronated. Now he had a small flame, it only lasted a minute and was not much bigger than that of a single wicked candle, but it was better. Improvement.

Every King was supposed to be more powerful than the last. Harrison felt extremely underwhelming in comparison to those who’d come before him. Tom could do more than him, Harry as well.

He felt like a disappointment.

To the crown.

To his family.

To Tom, Harry; his friends.

To all of Hell.

To Iezebel.

So as he entered the grey-stoned room, face to face with Dom, he had to take a deep breath and prepare himself for possible embarrassment. Maybe today would be a good day. Maybe he’d be able to make a larger flame. Maybe. Harrison was resting on maybe.

Fifteen minutes in, he did. A blowtorch sized flame came out of his palm and was gone in less than a second, likely due to his own shock. But then it was back, and it stayed.

Dom was shocked too, his face expressed nothing but joy. “Well done, King Harrison. If we keep going, maybe it will get better”

It only got a little bigger from there, but he could hold it much longer than he could his single wick.

Harrison smiled. He was tired of maybe.

tags:

mep:

@petalparker @hollandroos @bi-writes @lovelyh0lland @wazzupmrstark @thirsty-hoes-central @deleteidentity @buckystolemyheart @awesomeaugustina @agirlwithpointlessideas @youngandfleeting @writing-in-winter

haz:

Heaven was definitely not where you should be. It all felt like a fever dream. You were sent to the wrong place. Must have been. Well. You weren’t. You were a good person. You don’t like lying, didn’t enjoy seeing people overly upset, they were ideas that over time you had learned to love.

You couldn’t help but think that everyone in heaven was just weak. They trip and burst into tears as if it’s the end of the world and they’ll die any second from hardly a scratch on their elbow. It takes less than an hour for any injury fully heal and you wouldn’t even have a scar. But Hell?

Hell seemed wonderful.

Demons who were cold blooded despite the blazing heat that surrounded them. Where people wouldn’t cry about everything. Even just the fact that everything wasn’t fucking white. You’d only seen it in renaissance paintings from Earth while you went through school. Even still.

The idea was enticing.

You’d heard the stories. Everyone had. Stories of the king of hell, who was so powerful that if he decided to destroy heaven one day, he could do so before breakfast. You heard the clergy talk about it. Fearful that he may decide to do so one day. The thought excited you. A change in environment, change in people. Suddenly, what everyone else feared, became your daydream. Merely the thought of the dark colours, black and reds, made your heart jump and your lips curve into a smile.

It was then that you promised that one day, someday, it would happen.

You would fall from heaven.

Committing multiple deadly sins is punishable by death, rightfully so, they are the deadly sins after all. Death wasn’t something you wanted. You wanted to get to Hell. Have t=for as long as you could remember. Long enough for it to matter.

For one month, you ate everything in sight, definitely more than you should’ve. It was almost difficult, it made you feel sick for the first days as your body adjusted to its new diet. Your birthday passed. You accepted the gifts and gave little thank you, except to those that were truly amazing, which there never was. Lust had seemed difficult at first, not wanting to bring another person down with you, you opted for your own hand. Whatever works. There were days when you never left the house. Stayed in, too lazy to go out. People began to notice when you raised your voice at the man who had accidentally bumped into you and apologized immediately. As well as when you yelled at a mother who couldn’t seem to get her child in control. Admittedly, you had felt guilty at first. But this was a good thing. You were sure of it.

It went against everything you had ever been taught growing up. Your father, being a clergy member, denied any of what you were doing.  He refused to believe that his daughter could be anything but perfect. You knew the clergy was watching. They always did. Especially once people had stopped talking to you and had started talking about you.

A modern day Lucifer. You’d heard it yourself, while other angels’ eyes fell upon you, your head held high, shoulders pushed back, chin up, wings spread wide behind you.

You held yourself higher the more you heard your name fall from people’s lips and slip into others ears, you took pride in how you looked. Pride. The sin that had sent Lucifer himself down to the fiery pits of Hell. He knew he was pretty, you did too. Could that really be that bad?

Your cold stares and pursed lips towards others only changed when you had been called upon to present yourself to the clergy and justify your action. Your smile grew wide.

You entered the clergy’s office. The large white doors were heavy, the gold handle was cold against your skin. Everything was cold in heaven.

Inside you were met with a long hallway, doors almost exactly like those you had just entered were at the end of the marble pillar-lined hallway. People rushed in and out of various doors on the edge of the room, behind the lines of pillars.

You started up at the painted ceiling. A blue sky painted with every member of the clergy. You picked out your father easily, even from the high ceilings. In his arms was you. It’d been painted thousands of years ago, when you were nearly 150 years old, 6 months old in human years, your wings were centuries away from growing in. Time passes fast in Heaven and Hell. One year in either realm equated to 295 human years. You never understood why you always counted in human years.

You smoothed out your dress as one of the workers escorted you to the large doors in the back. You didn’t need an escort, it was the end of the hall. Besides, you’d been here a billion times as a child.

The golden inlays in the door reflected the light as the opened before you reached it you forced your wings to stay still, fighting the urge for them to flutter excitedly. You entered the room, stepping up onto the small platform in the centre of the room, before the five men who sat at desks that towered over you. In the centre, your father.

“Did you get promoted, father?” You smile up at him, your voice echoed off the walls, making it seem louder than it actually was.

“I wish it was permanent Y/N” He used your full name. Normally he’d call you sweetheart, ducky when you were younger, but occasionally more recently. His favourite was Dove, or Little Dove. You couldn’t pinpoint when he’d started using it, only that he used it more than your real name. “It’s only because this case has to do with you” It was hard to tell from how far away you were, but his eyes were glassy, his eyes red rimmed, his cheeks starting to flush a similar colour. He thanked God that he was far enough away that you couldn’t tell.

The man on his right, Patriarch Abraham, turns to him, you see him say something but you can’t hear what’s said. You notice that your dad’s wings drop for a split second before he fixes his posture, turning towards you.

“Y/N Y/L/N” His voice booms over the room, it hurts your ears slightly. “You’ve been summoned to justify your crime of sinning to the third degree” his voice cracks on ‘sinning’. You never thought about your impact on other people’s lives. But this is all you’ve wanted for centuries. Even if you did care, you’re far too deep now to turn back.

“You have been charged on account of gluttony, greed, lust, sloth, wrath, and pride. How do you plead?”

You know that they know everything. No matter what you say, you’ll get punished. Banished. You take in a deep breath; “Guilty”

Your father shakes his head. Even from so far away you can tell that he’s upset. He probably- no, definitely -prayed that it wasn’t true. That these accusations were meant for someone else.

“You are aware that committing even one of the deadly sins is punishable by banishment to Earth. You would have your wings clipped and be forced to live among the human race” Patriarch Isaac spits out from his desk to your left, the platform spins so you’re directly facing him, his voice continued to echo through the room.

“Yes Patriarch Isaac I am aware”

“Then why do it if you know what the repercussions are?” Patriarch Jacob speaks just as angrily. The platform spins again, your eyes meet his.

“Sir I-“ The platform spins again, you grip the railing and tuck in your wings as they almost catch wind, nearly knocking you over.

“Do you know how this looks on your family? You’ve tarnished the name” Patriarch Richard.

“Sir” It spins once more, you think you might get whiplash if everyone starts shouting over each other like they seem to be so close to doing.

“Do you know how this looks on all of us Ms. Y/L/N?” Patriarch Abraham.

The platform spins back and forth between various desks. All five of the Patriarchs seated above you start shouting. You can hear bits of what everyone saying, piecing together full sentences. The aggressive spinning hurts your head, it feels difficult to breathe.

“Even Lucifer had never committed all seven”

“We haven’t had third degree sinning in multiple millenniums Y/N what have you done”

“You should be banished”

“You are not the daughter I raised” Your father’s voice is heard over the others as they stop. The platform stopping just in front of him you take a deep breath. You fix your hair and ruffle your wings, attempt to get the feathers to lay more comfortably.

“I’m sorry father” He only sighs in response, picking up the quill. He rubs his temple as he stares down at the desk.

“I suppose that perhaps we could reduce the punishment due to the specifics of this case”

“You know we can’t do that. She’s your daughter. It’ll be favouritism” Patriarch Isaac speaks up You expect the platform to turn but it doesn’t. “If anyone else had crimes as severe of these, they would be executed or banished to Hell without a second thought. Left for King Frederick to handle”

“Maybe she can just be banished to Earth? We can-“ He was pleading, cut off by Patriarch Abraham.

“We cannot”

“Father, do not treat me differently than others purely because I am your daughter. I acted out. I sinned. I deserve the banishment” You kept your face stoic. You watched as your father inhaled, signing the paper, the other four signed something on their desks as well.

“Y/N Y/L/N. You have hereby been banished to Hell. Effective by Midnight tonight” A loud bang rung through the room. You nodded, biting back a smile as the platform spun once more, practically forcing you off of it and out the door, where you were escorted out of the building.

You glanced up at the ceiling, the one you’d memorized every detail of. But for the first time, something seemed off about it, you couldn’t quite pin it. You stared at for as long as you could before you were out of the building, etching it into your mind and trying to spot any difference from the one you remembered, but you couldn’t