I'm Sorry I just love my boys so much and I was listening to that Succubus/Spiritus song (above^^) by Samhain, and idk I thought like- Glenn would-
Ship: Idk if you can call this shipping but it would be Highschool!JerryOnly and maybe Samhain era Glenn Danzig.
Warning:
Sexual themes, Mild Sin, mentions of self harm/troubled family (the age of consent in NJ is 16, or atleast in some parts)
Setting: The year is 1986, Jerry Only comes from a home in Suburban?? Lodi New Jersey where he is practically hated and is abused by his father (because I'm edgy and paranormal activity usually goes on around troubled teens)
Jerry laid in his bed late on saturday night, staring blankly at the white wall across from his bed, trying to get even an hour of sleep. He was in so much pain. He laid on his left side, clutching his right in the darkness.
The moonlight glowed bright through the window and onto his old wooden floor, casting a shadow from the curtains.
His ribs burned, the skin streched over the broken bone stung and bled from where he was hit with the metal bat. It would all be okay, he knew Dad was going to take him to the hospital in the morning to keep him from dying or something bad like that, claiming him and his younger brother got in a fight and he had tripped down the stairs.
If only he could tell someone the truth without them doubting him or his father hurting him worse.
Tears formed in his red puffy eyes for the fifth time since the clock struck nine, it hurt real bad, he isn't usually one to cry over pain, but he was only seventeen afterall, what was he supposed to do?
He didn't want to sleep as much as he needed to, he knew tomorrow it would all be the same thing. His father would just find another way to hurt him and praise his younger brother simply because 'he's a better behaved child.'
Jerry has never broken a single one of his father's rules in purpose. Never. Doyle goes out of his way to break every single one. How is he better? It just wasn't fair. Jerry tries his best to not let his father see his anger, sadness, and pain, but at night he keeps himself up by slashing deep into the soft flesh on his legs, he lights cigarettes only to take one drag and put them out on his thighs and flick them out the window, making sure to hold the lighters and the matches to his wrist each time. He tries to damage himself more than his father does each day, permanently leaving chunks and big shiny pink raised lumps all over his body, but it's never enough to erase what he did to him that day, it's never enough to forget.
He closed his eyes one last tine before trying to get to sleep, rolling over onto his back to try and make his side feel better. Moving frankly just made it worse, the feeling of a searing hot iron being poked and prodded inside his lungs.
His eyes flung open again, he blinked a few times trying to get rid of the stinging tears, but as he opened them one more time, there was a glowing purple light coming from the floor and shining onto the ceiling. He sat up quickly, holding up the sheets just above his abdomen, wincing at the mass ammount of pain in his side.
There he saw a black cloud of smoke forming around the purple, only soon to be replaced with the most beautiful man he had ever laid his eyes on.
He had dark chocolate, creamy colored eyes that pierced right through Jerry's very being and into his heart as he smiled with them over to him. His hair was fluffy and raven black, falling in slick curls all around his head and down to his sharp jawline. He had very defined cheekbones, complimenting his itallian looking nose, slightly square chin, and thick chiseled lips.
He wore a laced black choker from his neck, falling to his visible collar bones, and dark fashion of what was like thin ropes of fabric around his body, just barley covering his chest. Large black wings protruded from his shoulder blades, almost like bird wings, along with a set of goat-esque horns atop his head and a slim black tail-like item with a large arrow head point as the tip coming out from his lower back.
He floated among the purple and black fading mist like some sort of ghost, his slim feminine body matched with see through black thigh highs and no shoes, although you don't really need shoes if you fly eveywhere, do you?
The purple and black quickly faded away, landing him on the floor infront of Jerry's bed.
He snapped his fingers, purple sparks seeming to fly around his hand and then quickly all fall to the floor.
"Hey, Babes." He spoke in a hush tone. His voice melted through the air as it came into Jerry's ears (that's one way to put it, J.J.) flooding his brain with a tingly feeling. His voice was deep and dark, yet horse and soft. "You feel better now?" He took a few steps to the foot of the bed.
Jerry pushed himself back against the headboard. While he was extremely good looking, he was also fucking terrifying, I mean for fucks sake he just appeared there like that. Then, he realised there was no pain his side when he threw himself back like that. His wrists and legs didn't hurt.
He touched his hand to his side, not feeling the big swollen purple lump over his bones. He looked up to the tall item over his bed.
"Who are you?" He shook.
He crawled up onto the bed, setting himself crouched on his knees between Jerry's thighs, his index finger and thumb reaching up towards his chin, taking it inbetween his sharp claw-like fingers.
"Thou mayest refer to me as Luciferi." He smirked slightly, dropping his hand down to grab Jerry's, placing them on his feminine hips as he stared into his eyes. His hands soon left Jerry's as they kept eye contact.
He leaned in closer, his eye lashes fluttered and he smirked once more before he grabbed Jerry by the neck, sinking his teeth into his skin.
He sucked the blood from his neck, leaving a purple spot, two holes oozing his crimson liquid. He ran his tounge up his neck now, licking up the dripping blood then pulling back to face the boy as he kept his hands on the his hips.
Jerry's hands fell down as he began to realise how much he enjoyed this, grabbing at the rim of the item what kept certain things to the imagination, slipping jus fingers inside. (Nice. >:3)
He was so close to just grabbing him and-
"You aren't real." Jerry said, removing his hands.
"This ain't no fantasy, boy." Luciferi spoke again, now taking this time to push Jerry back and grab the hem of his shirt, pulling it up slightly. "Let me make you feel better." He smirked now, placing his hand over Jerry's chest as he pulled his shirt off.
(So hard not to just call him Glenn, but no, this isn't even Glenn, really.)
