A/N: A'ight, so I wasn't supposed to do this story until I finished Milk and Honey but…I got overly excited. So here we are.

This story will *possibly* have noncon. I haven't decided yet, but it'd be like, one scene maybe. There will be some violence and possibly some gore. Once again, not decided. Further warnings will come as the story pans out, I promise. There will for sure, however, be sexy consensual scenes. Not many but warnings are good. At least that's what people keep yelling at me about.

This story's plot was inspired by tumblr user DamienandKyle4ever (best username ever aw yiss).

Here's a lame-ass prologue now! Enjoy~

And another angel came out of the temple, crying with a loud voice to him that sat on the cloud, Thrust in thy sickle, and reap: for the time is come for thee to reap; for the harvest of the earth is ripe. - Revelations 14:15

There was something to be said about Earth that Damien could never quite put into the words it so desperately deserved. Unwarranted. Unclean. Disturbing. Foolish.

Twenty some-odd years of being by his Father's side, watching soul after soul pouring into their domain in turbulent lines was becoming nothing short of monotonous. Pure, unadulterated fear rang out through the carmine setting, lost mortals crying in vain over what they believed to be a vast miscalculation. After all, they all had their gods or lack thereof. Every single one of them 'knew the truth in their heart'. It was something that Damien had always found entertaining, seeing the pure humanity of these souls being bared, their true essences shining through. Born again Christians became absurdly violent, thrashing out at the demons coming to begin work on harvesting their souls. Nuns and priests alike threw vicious temper tantrums, demanding the opportunity to speak to their God about such a gross misunderstanding, to let them be allowed into the domain in which they believed they truly belonged.

All in all, Damien found it hilarious.

However, as the years waned on, as he realized that his life had been reduced to nothing more than a gatekeeper, he began to yearn. Yearn for freedom from this plodding routine that had seeped every ounce of vigor from his bones. Humanity was disgusting him more than entertaining him. These mortals didn't deserve the lives from which they had pathetically spawned. The fact that they came down to Hell kicking and screaming like little children was purely revolting. They'd each had so many years to find out the true path to enlightenment, they'd each been given enough opportune time to earn their wings.

But all of them disregarded that fact, thinking that throwing two dollars into the collection plate was enough to guide them into the gates of Heaven.

Yet still they whined and moaned. It was almost poignant in a sense, the way that mortals held on so tightly to their beliefs even when shown how very wrong they had been. But nonetheless, Damien held a great deal of hatred for those who burst onto his home turf in a small blast of flame. Observing them being tortured sated his appetite for a good amount of time, but it never felt as though it were quite enough. Something within him was infused with a heady rage. Something was telling him that action had to be taken.

These pathetic sacks of flesh and bone were nothing more than spoiled children. Bratty little fucks who had nothing better to do with their time than complain instead of realizing just where it was they'd went wrong in their lives. What did they care after all? They were dead. It was so much easier for them to just sit there and cry, screaming and beating their fists on the ground as they demanded to be let into where they 'truly' belonged.

They didn't deserve what they'd been given. Damien wanted that freedom, and as far as he was concerned, he had earned it far more than any of 'God's children'.

Walking towards his Father's office, he glanced towards a group of people trying to run from a demon. He scoffed and rolled his eyes, holding out his hand and watching with a smirk as the ground in front of the crowd rippled, sending them sprawling onto the ground in a jumbled heap.

"Thank you, Master Damien," the demon nodded gratefully. Damien merely nodded back, continuing his walk. Glimmering ruby eyes swept over towards the group as reinforcements came, ripping them from each other. Screams of terror and anger swept through the acrid air like a song. A song that Damien had heard far too many times to find enjoyment in it anymore.

It was time for something different. It was time for the mortals to learn just how much power the forces of Hell really held over their deplorable existences.

It was time for war.

He passed a thrall of demons outside his father's office, each of them giving respectable, tiny bows before him. He continued on without giving any of them a second glance. He was too enthralled in his possibilities, too lost in the concept that he wished to present to his father. He shoved his way into the large room, finding his father standing and throwing paperwork behind him, muttering to himself about a deadline or something or other. He cleared his throat, watching The Beast whirl around and widen his eyes in surprise. "Damien? What's wrong?" he blinked.

"Humanity," he said bluntly, walking over and standing in front of him, staring up at his Father determinedly.

He rolled his eyes, "Isn't that the truth," he scoffed. "I'm so fucking behind on my paperwork I can't even-"

"Then don't fucking do it," he scowled. "Dad, I've been thinking."

"That's never a good thing," he smirked, noticing a twinkle in Damien's eye that he had never seen before. It intrigued him. He gestured for Damien to sit down and he did so, watching as Satan leaned against his desk and looked at him carefully. "What's on your mind, Son?" he asked quietly.

A forked tongue passed over Damien's lips, his hands trembling with a rush of excitement. "War, Pops," he said firmly, though the grin couldn't be kept from his face. "Let's go to war with God."

"Oh boy," he sighed, rubbing his temple. "Damien, we tried that once when you were younger, remember? And we got our asses handed to us."

"That's because you didn't do it right!" he hissed. "You used demons and demons only! You have a whole fucking army of mortals under your beck and call. We get them ready to fight, we lead them to the gates of Heaven, and we fucking destroy it. We show those goody-goody angel fuckers that they don't get to dump all their creations on us that don't meet their fucking standards!"

Satan watched him carefully, his face falling into a thoughtful frown. "Damien, these people don't want to help us."

He scoffed, jumping up onto his chair to come closer to his towering Father's height. "You think that matters?" he questioned. "Whether or not they like it, their souls belong to us, Dad. It takes a few fucking simple spells and then we use our demons and start training them. Let God be destroyed by those He betrayed," he smiled, his fangs glimmering in the fires burning outside the room.

He crossed his arms and chuckled, "It sounds great in theory, Damien. You know that I'm beyond sick of dealing with His messes," he sighed. His face fell into a grim line as he stared down at his son, "The problem is we've lost once before. I know increasing our offensive would be useful but-"

"But nothing," he interjected. "This is our chance. And you're right. We have lost before. Which means Heaven will think we'll be taken down just as easily. We won't let them know that they no longer have the upper hand. Think of how much we outnumber them, Dad. It's pretty much 100 of us to four of them," he frowned.

The Beast nodded along with the boy's words, looking down and tapping his cloven foot in thought. "It would be nice to not have to deal with all this…" he looked around his office tiredly, filled to the brim with the paperwork for each new soul. Nearly 200,000 deaths every day, only barely of quarter of them making it into Heaven. It made his life, for all intents and purposes, a living fucking Hell. He knew being here was punishment for so long ago, but this just seemed overkill. He looked back down on his son, who was grinning widely at the prospect of winning his Father's favor. "Why do you want war, Damien?" he cocked his brow. "You just direct people to their prospective layers."

His grin faded and a dark shadow cast itself over his face. "These people don't deserve to bitch about where they are," he growled. "All they do is go through their daily fucking lives thinking they're kings when in reality, they're the rats that the peasants feast upon…" he grated his lip a bit, his claws digging into his palm as he clenched his fist. "I think Earth needs to see just how it is when things are plainly spelled out for them, wouldn't you agree?"

He smirked a bit. "Pettiness? That's what this is about, Damien?"

He shrugged, "It's a sin, ain't it?" he cocked his brow. "Kinda my job, Pops."

Satan chuckled and nodded a bit, "I suppose you're right on that one." He bit his lip and sighed tiredly. "Is suppose we could round up our main torturers, see what they think," he said quietly. Though the both of them knew well enough none of them would dare question their intentions. If the two of them told them to wear salmon for hats, the streams of the world would be fleshed out at once. Satan looked up in thought. "We'll have to get a spell for the mortals."

"It won't be hard," Damien shrugged. "Hell, I'll have Gragor look into that one for me."

He nodded once more, "Very well. However…" he paused, frowning in concern. "There is one potential problem."

"Oh?" he cocked his brow.

He rolled his eyes. "We lost last time because of their fucking Keanu Reeves. If he's back again for them-"

"Ah ah ah," he laughed sardonically, wagging his finger. "Don't you worry about that for one moment, Pops." Satan tilted his head, intrigued at the purely devious glint flashing through Damien's eyes. His son looked up at him and that shadow passed over his face once again. "I know just what to do with him."

A/N: Quick little prologue for you all yay

This story is going to be ridiculous. I'm excited.

Thanks for R&Ring!