#angel in the telephone wire

[seraphbliss]

peak!

january topster !

[technological-existentialism]

[befuddled-calico-whump]

angel

[localvoidcat]

i love urban fantasy but specifically the flavor where it's so clearly integrated into society . if you show me a sign in a doctor's office that says get your vaccinations against lycanthropy today i will eat that shit up

[limewatt]

my angels tag is the best thing on my blog honestly

[temporarywelcome]

Please? - Peter Maximoff

Word Count: 3.5k

REQUESTED!

The Ask: I humbly ask for a Peter Maximoff smut, I'm thinking y/n either a: distracts him while he is playing his arcade games, b: using whipped cream to give him a lil sweet treat while fucking, or c: literally any smut of this man, I need him. Preferably him being a little cocky/silly, but when you actually do anything he is a whimpering mess praising you. - @envy-of-greed

I give you... Option A.

WARNINGS: SMUT! oral (m recieve), handjob, mommy kink, praise, reader is a tease, reader is MEAN, sub!peter, dom!reader, Peter becomes a MESS, reader calls him "pup" and "puppy" like once, aftercare, alluding to punishment

A/N: gonna work on a Spencer Reid fluff/comedic fic next

_____

Peter was annoying as hell.

She loved him to bits, she would do absolutely anything for him, but she was allowed to admit her boyfriend was a complete terror?

Y/N was peacefully sitting in her room when her telephone had rang. Placing down her magazine, she reached for it, bringing it to her ear, “Hello?���

“Babeeee,”

What a surprise this was. Peter Maximoff, who usually would just show up unannounced with his super speed, decided to give her a phone call?

“Peter? What’s the occasion?” she asked with a smile, leaning back against her pillows, twirling the telephone’s wire in her newly manicured fingers. 

“Eh, I just remember you saying you like phone calls, the bonding or whatever. So i wanted to give you one.”

That made her heart melt. This little terror was sometimes a complete angel as well. “Yeah…” Y/N replied, “I love phone calls. Your voice sounds so nice on the phone, by the way,”

She could already picture him blushing. “I-It does? I mean, of course, yeah it does! I’m Peter freaking Maximoff, babe. Everything about me is top-tier,”

“You could work on your baking skills,” she mused, remembering literally every single time she would attempt to bake something with him. Flour everywhere. Remnants of cake or brownie batter on his face because he just had to eat some (a lot). Firealarm going off. Burnt baked goods. Every. Single. Time.

“Bitch! Every baking failure is your fault for always distracting me!” he whined in protest.

“How the hell do I distract you? I’m baking too!” 

“ ‘Cause you’re pretty,” Peter replied cheekily, and she knew he would have wiggled his eyebrows if she could see him, “How am I supposed to focus?”

“Stop making excuses for your terrible baking skills. Even if I wasn’t there, you would be a mess,”

“For different reasons,” Peter scoffed, “I can’t bake by myself, I need your guidance,”

“But you can’t bake with me either because you allegedly get distracted. Sounds like you just can’t bake,”

“Fuck off,” he grumbled, making her laugh, “Let’s get to more important business: when can I pick you up?”

“I wasn’t aware of being picked up at all,”

“Yeah well I’m picking you up. I wanna spend some time with you!” she could hear his excited tone that was so uniquely Peter. Everything about him was unique. Everything about him was different and weird and strange and she loved every part of him. 

“Well…” Y/N sighed, “I was going to start on some homework…”

“Boooo! College student booooo!”

“Shit, excuse me for wanting an education. Better than planning on living in my mom’s basement for the rest of my life,” she teased.

“Ouch. Fine. Can’t you do your homework later?”

“I��ve been procrastinating on it,” Y/N set down her magazine, getting off of the bed and walking to her desk, stretching her body as far as she could with the limits of the phone cord. Fingertips brushing against her notebook, she was able to grab it, nestling back into her bed and opening it, “Shit, it’s a lot.”

“Who cares? Finish it tomorrow!”

“It’s due in the morning.”

She could already tell he was pouting, she knew him so well. “Can’t you do it at my place?”

“You mean your mom’s place?” Y/N decided to keep teasing him. Peter was pretty much a loser, not really having any plans in life other than to lounge in his mom’s basement playing video games and eating twinkies for eternity. He thought he was a loser, Y/N’s parents thought he was a loser (which is why they don’t like him much), even Y/N thought he was a loser when they had first met. 

Yet here she was, smiling like an idiot while babbling on the telephone with said loser. Said loser who always gives her (stolen) gifts. Said loser who comes over at random points in the day just to say he loves her (superspeed is pretty handy). Said loser who named his Dungeons and Dragons character after her (however, he was such a loser, he didn’t have many people to play it with). Said loser who would scoff and pout whenever she would tease him about being her future house husband (well, what else would he be, if he just plays video games and dotes on her all day?) Her favorite loser. 

“Yes,” Peter deadpanned, “My mom’s place. Now may I come over so I can escort you to my mom’s place?”

She pretended to think about it, hearing his soft breathing on the other line as he waited for her to answer, “Fine. No distractions though!” 

“Yes, ma’am,”

Y/N opened her mouth to say something else, jumping when she heard a harsh knock on her window. Whipping her head towards the source of the noise, she rolled her eyes with a laugh. Peter, waving at her with his usual happy dorky expression. Placing the phone back down onto its receiver, Y/N rushed towards the window, opening it. “Babe!”

“Missed me?” he asked with a smirk, zipping into her room and right past her, making her roll her eyes again. He picked up her notebook, examining the pages, “Ew ew ew. What the hell are you studying again?”

“Psychology,” Y/N sat on the bed, slipping her sneakers on and tying them. 

“Boring,” he sped off in a blur to her desk, grabbing a pencil, and rushing back to her notebook. 

She didn’t even notice, focused on her sneakers, but when she raised her head and saw him drawing on her notebook, her facial expression soured, “Pietro Maximoff!” she snatched the notebook back, flicking his forehead. 

“Hey!” he gasped dramatically, “Ain’t no way you used my real name.”

“You misbehave to the point I have to like a mom,” Y/n replied dryly, going off to her closet to grab her bag. Brows furrowing, she dug around a bit, “Shit… Dunno where my bag went-”

“Ahem,”

Y/N didn’t even have to turn to know what that meant. But she did, and, not to her surprise, Peter was holding her bag with a smirk on his face. 

“Asshole,” she grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest. She knew him well. If she attempted to grab the bag, he would just zoom off somewhere else to tease her. 

“Aren’t you going to get it?” he asked with faux innocence, holding it out to her. 

“Fuck that, I know what you’re planning,” Y/N shook her head, raising her brow at him expectantly, “Drop the bag,”

“Um, am I a dog?” He placed a hand to his chest, jaw dropping like the drama king he was. He should have been in theatre when he was in school. 

“Do I have to treat you like one?” Y/N threatened boldly, “Come on, pup, drop the bag,”

Peter’s eyes widened and he dropped the bag, “You did not just say that,” 

“Well, it worked,” Y/N smirked, grabbing her bag and planting a kiss on his cheek, “Good boy,” She began throwing her supplies for her homework into her bag, unaware of the growing dent in his pants. 

“Bitch,” he mumbled to himself, too quiet for her to hear. 

“Alright, I’m ready to go,” she announced, slinging her bag over her shoulder. He just stood there, eyes glazed over. “Earth to Peter?” she snapped her fingers in his face twice before he blinked, coming back down to society. 

“Okayletsgetoutofhere,” he word vomited, grabbing her waist (with one hand on her neck, of course! Gotta prevent that whiplash!), and within seconds, they were in his room (the basement). 

“Shit, am I ever gonna get used to that?” Y/N laughed, flopping onto his unmade bed in dizziness. Before she could react, Peter dived in on top of her, making her let out a pained, “Oof!” and a “Peter!”

A childish giggle left him, arms going around her waist as he nuzzled into her neck, “Hm?”

“Can’t breathe,”

“Are you calling me fat?”

“I apologize, my dainty little princess,” she deadpanned, arms going around him too. Yes, he was crushing her, but she honestly didn’t care, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. She then felt something on her thigh. Felt like something was poking-

Oh.

Oh.

She smirked, but didn’t say anything about what she just realized, casually stroking his hair, “My pretty puppy,”

He gasped, immediately dashing off. Poor thing was flustered, playing one of his (stolen) arcade games, back turned to her. 

“What’s wrong?” Y/N immediately got to teasing him, “I thought we were cuddling?”

“Wanna game,” he replied simply, and his ears went red. Cutie pie. 

“You wanna game? But I thought you wanted to spend time with me?” she laughed.

“You said you wanted to do your homework,” 

“True true…” she opened up her notebook, glancing at his squirming figure, “You dancin’, love?”

“No, I’m not dancing,” was all he said. There were plenty of times he didn’t catch onto her teasing, which was always adorable. This seemed to be one of them.

“Then why are you moving like that?” 

“Like what?” Now he was playing dumb. He groaned as he died in the game, restarting it.

She slid off of the bed, walking to him and wrapping her arms around his waist from behind. Resting her chin on his shoulder, she said, “You’re acting funny, darling,” she pressed a kiss to the side of his neck, feeling him tense under her touch.

“N-No, I’m not,”

“Oh, really?” One hand reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear before planting a kiss there, “You’ve been acting funny ever since I called you a good boy,” His breath hitched, making her smirk, “I didn’t know calling you that would have such an effect on you, baby. Maybe it’s because you’re so bratty, you don’t hear that often, huh?”

“Stoooop,” he whined, losing in his game again, “You made me lose,” Peter pouted. 

“Hm,” she let her hands drop lower, fiddling with the button of his pants absentmindedly, “You must be slacking, Peter! You should be able to game under any condition, right?”

“But-”

“Nuhuh,” she pressed a finger to his plush lips, “No ‘but’s from you. We gotta practice your concentration skills, my love. They’re lacking,” she unbuttoned his jeans, making him gasp. His hands were gripping the game’s controls tightly, however they were unmoving as she palmed him through his boxers. “Hey,” she roughly squeezed his length, making him squeak cutely. “Did I say you could stop? C’mon, time to practice.” 

“S-Sorry, Y/N,” he stuttered out, hitting restart again. She squeezed his cock through his boxers again, earning a whine from him. 

“Now what do you call me when I play with you?” Y/N asked tauntingly, running a single finger over his clothed length. Up and down. Up and down. Up and-

“Mommy,” he bit his bottom lip to keep himself from moaning. 

“That’s right, darling, I’m Mommy,” She stepped away, confusing him, until she got down on the floor, crawling right between him and the game. “Mommy’s going to take care of your pretty cock now, okay?” Her hands trailed towards the belt loops of his jeans as she spoke, “You are not allowed to stop playing your game. Each in-game death is two spanks. You’re not allowed to cum till you clear three levels, understood?”

Peter’s cheeks flared up and he nodded excitedly, “Yes, Mommy,” 

“Good boy,” she purred, pulling down his pants and letting them pool at his ankles. Fingers dipping into the waistband of his boxers, she cooed, already noticing a small wet patch, “So excited, huh?” she pulled down his boxers, letting them join his pants on the floor. Y/N stuck out her index finger, letting it run along his cock like before. Up and down. Up and down. Up and-

“-Mommy,” Peter whined, “Stop teasing me, please,”

“Oh? The bratty boy is using his manners?” she cooed, wrapping her fingers around his thick length and slooooowly stroking him, “Remember the rules and everything will feel amazing, yeah?”

He nodded, sucking in a breath, “Y-Yeah,” Peter tried to focus on his game, he really did, trying his best to get his character past the villainous NPCs. But as soon as Y/N began to stroke faster, he whimpered, his character being slain. 

“Oh?” Y/N smirked, pausing her movements and making him whine more, “Already lost? That’s two spanks, darling,”

“Sorry, Mommy…” He mumbled in embarrassment, restarting the game, “I won't do it again- fuck,” She started stroking him again, the delicious feeling going straight to his pretty little head. Any sort of sexual intimacy would immediately make his brain short-circuit, causing him to be complete putty in her hands.

“I know you won’t do it again, Peter, because you’re a good boy, right?” Y/N’s lips curled into a little smile, leaning forward to press a kiss to his tip, continuing to stroke him. “You’re my good boy?”

“Mhm,” he nodded, bottom lip between his teeth as he attempted his game again, his avatar jumping through obstacles and avoiding approaching enemies, “I’m y-your good boy- ughhh,” she wrapped her pretty lips around his tip, teasingly sucking on it. He bit his bottom lip again, hard enough to draw blood. 

Peter couldn’t help it, he took a glance down at Y/N, mouth going dry seeing her sucking on his tip, stroking him in a steady rhythm with her own eyes looking dead at his. His eyes widened seeing her take him deeper into her mouth, eyes not leaving his for even a second.

Game over.

He looked up at the screen of his game, realizing his character died again. Fuck. 

Y/N pulled her mouth off of his dick with a pop, making him whimper, “Two more spanks, darling. That’s four now.”

This was going to suck. This was going to suck in the best way possible. 

“Didn’t you say you were going to be a good boy?” Y/N asked, pouting exageratively, “I remember you saying you were going to be a good boy,”

“I am your good boy!” Peter huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. 

Y/N laughed, pressing a kiss to his thigh, “You’re so cute, baby. Now, c’mon, start the game again. You’ll never get to cum at this rate.”

Poor thing panics, starting the game up again. He began spamming the buttons desperately, wanting to clear those three levels so Y/N would allow him to cum. Overstimulation was hot as hell, but edging was terrible (which is why that was her usual punishment for him).  

Her lips were on him again, sucking hard, and poor guy was seeing fucking stars trying to focus on this damn fucking game. He was a good gamer, these levels should be easy to clear, but when Mommy is sucking his cock how is he able to focus on such a thing? He would rather abandon the game and fuck her like a bitch in heat, which is certainly what he felt like at that moment. 

It was torture. Spamming buttons desperately, not beating the level, the threat of edging and spanking in the air. He was going crazy.

“Thats ten spanks now, baby,” Y/N said after another failed level, “I thought you were good at games,”

“I-I am!” He exclaimed, “It's hard to fucking focus when you're sucking the soul out of me!” A pout formed on his pretty lips, brows furrowed as he attempted to play the level again. 

“Watch your tone, Peter,” Y/N glared at him, making him feel emotional. Whenever he was in a vulnerable place like this, it's embarrassingly easy for him to burst into tears. Especially because during any form of intimacy he was baby or darling or something cute, never Peter. Why would she call him by his name? Was he being bad?

“Sorry, Mama,” he mumbled.

Y/N couldn't help but smile softly, being reminded once again how much she adored him. Her pretty boy. Her favorite loser. Being called her titles by him always made her weak at the knees. “I know, baby,” she was a soft domme at heart, she can't be mad at him. Ever. He was her baby and he deserved the whole world. “Let's try this again, okay?”

She waited for him to nod before taking him into her mouth again. His pretty tip was red and hot in her mouth, dribbling pre-cum on her tongue as she swirled the muscle along. 

He finally beat the first level, moving on to the next excitedly. He was getting somewhere now! Soon he'll be allowed to cum and maybe Y/N will let him inside…

Yes, he really wanted to be inside her. 

Y/N began taking him deeper into her mouth, and fuck he felt his tip nudge the back of her throat so perfectly he wanted to cum. So bad. But he won't because he's a good boy and he's not going to cum until he's allowed to. 

That was the plan, at least.

But his name was Quicksilver for a reason and he could feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge. His left hand was gripping the joystick painfully hard, knuckles white as he moved it around in an attempt to get his character across the map to the next level. 

He finally made it to the third level, sighing in relief. He was getting somewhere. Almost to the end. She was bobbing her head up and down, one hand gently rubbing his tender balls, bringing him closer and closer to release. 

“AhI’msoclosethatfeelssogoodthankyouthankyouI’msoclose” he babbled out, speaking practically a mile a minute. A wide grin appeared on his face once he cleared the third level, “IdiditcanIcomenowpleasecanIcumnow-”

She pulled off of his dick again, making him groan in both desperation and annoyance, “You cleared the level? Good job, sweetie. I guess I can let you cum now…” They both stared at each other, Peter panting and his chest rising with each labored breath, Y/N batting her eyelashes at him meanly, continuing to tease him. He was ready to just start fucking her face and go wild, but he told himself he was going to behave.

So he’s going to behave. 

Ugh, but why does she have to make it so hard? 

“Can you keep going?” he finally asked.

“Should I, though?”

“You… You promised!” he gasped, eyes widening in panic.

“Hmmm, I don’t remember promising anything,” she replied, trailing her finger along his shaft like she always did when she wanted to fucking tease him. Up and down up and down up and down-

“Please?” Was she really going to make him beg? She knew he hated begging, which is probably why she enjoyed making him do that so much. 

All she did was hum, continuing with that aggravating motion of her finger, fucking asshole. 

“Please, Mommy?” he grumbled, hands balling into fists at his sides to keep him from going crazy. Think with your head and not your dick, Peter.

Y/N gave him another mean smirk, “That’s my boy…” she went straight back to sucking him off, and he was back to being a fucking mess. 

“ThatfeelssogoodyoualwaysdosogoodfuckI’mgoingtocumcanIcumpleasepleaseplease-”

She nodded, not stopping her sucking motion for even a second. However, his eyes were screwed shut so he didn’t even notice, continuing to beg to cum till she released his dick from her mouth and said, “You can cum, baby,” with a little laugh before going right back to work. 

And within two seconds of being back inside her mouth, he was cumming hard, hands going to her hair for something to keep him grounded. When she pulled away from his cock once again, she swallowed without a second thought, rubbing his thigh soothingly, “You still there, baby?”

“Mhm,” Peter was a known chatterbox, everybody knew this. But every time after cumming, his desire to speak would vanish, the need to just be held and taken care of overpowering all else. 

So Y/N stood up, taking his hand, “Let’s lay down, yeah?” She knew Peter could not last long, however, he could bounce back extremely fast. Just some cuddles will do, and he’ll be back to either a) yapping her ear off, or b) being hard as a rock. Or both. Who knows? 

She laid down on his (unmade) bed, pulling him down beside her, “You need anything, baby?” He simply shrugged, arms going around her waist and resting his head on her shoulder, “Water?” He shook his head. “Snack?” Fast nod. Of course. “Alright,” she went to sit up, but he immediately tightened his grip on her. “Didn’t you want a snack?” she laughed.

He thought for a moment before hesitantly releasing her from his hold, allowing her to get up and go to his practical tower of Hostess treats, grabbing a box of Twinkies. His favorite. Sitting back down, she opened up the box, unwrapping a cakey treat while he leaned against her again. 

“Here you go,” she said softly, letting Peter pluck the dessert from her hand and eat it. It was silent as he ate, her hand going to his hair to gently stroke the silver strands. 

“Thank you,” he mumbled after he finished, looking up at her with a cute smile, “You always know just what I need,” he nuzzled his nose into her neck, inhaling her scent. “Love you,”

“Love you too, baby,” she kissed his head, sighing peacefully, “So… about that punishment…”

[thegreatyin]

"angel" and "demon" are secretly the same type of word as "dragon" in that they have very classical and very normal go-to interpretations in pop culture but can ultimately actually mean whatever the hell you feel like

as a lover of all things eldritch and angelic (in both the emotional and physical interpretations of the word) i must emphasize to the crowd that humanoid angels are cool too actually. it is in fact part of angel canon that both types exist. holy shit two cakes. also biblically accurate is an inaccurate term for similar reasons just call them eldritch everyone will get what you mean anyway

[lighthouseshepard]

anytime anyone ever says my name aloud or in messages or at all ever actually its like angels come down from their telephone wires where they sit and gossip to kiss me personally on the forehead

[tokyonymph]

THERE WAS A HOLE HERE: a playlist for james sunderland (silent hill 2).

"...it's gone now."

listen on spotify.

cover art belongs to @bridegroom on tumblr.

disclaimer: the songs featured in this playlist contain themes of guilt, grief, and death.

the full tracklist and selected lyrics are below the cut:

I. PROMISE (REPRISE) - akira yamaoka [instrumental]

II. GONE AWAY (STRINGS OF CONSCIOUSNESS) - my brightest diamond 'cause you've gone away / where there isn't a telephone wire / still, i wait by the phone / you don't even write to say goodbye

III. ILL AND GETTING WORSE - rosegarden funeral party i know sometimes i think that / this must be wrong, and that i must be going insane / but if i so much as let my mind wander / i come crawling back to your face

IV. THERE'S A GIRL IN THE CORNER - the twilight sad you said you'd leave me and i won't forget / i'm holding on and i'll see how far / you thought you loved me, but you'll just forget / you're holding on but not too far

V. WALK WITH THE NOISE - iamx i walk with the noise, it’s reaching out to me / i talk to the walls, face my devils

VI. HOLE IN THE EARTH - deftones it's too late for me now / there's a hole in the earth (a hole in the earth) / i'm out

VII. IN THE WOODS SOMEWHERE - hozier my dearest love, i'm not done yet / how many years? I know i'll bear / i found something in the woods somewhere

VIII. PYRAMID SONG - radiohead i jumped in the river and what did i see? / black-eyed angels swam with me / a moon full of stars and astral cars / and all the figures i used to see

IX. SLEEP AWAKE - mother mother protecting you, protecting me / i throw the evidence into a trunk and drop it in the sea / lie awake, i sleep awake / i sleep with one eye on the bedroom door, the other on the cake

X. MAP OF THE PROBLEMATIQUE - muse fear and panic in the air / i want to be free from desolation and despair / and i feel like everything I sow / is being swept away / well, i refuse to let you go

XI. ALL THAT I AM LIVING FOR - evanescence should it hurt to love you? / should i feel like i do? / should i lock the last open door? / my ghosts are gaining on me

XII. WITHOUT YOU I'M NOTHING - placebo without you, i'm nothing at all

XIII. HURT - nine inch nails what have i become? / my sweetest friend / everyone i know / goes away in the end

XIV. THE WAVES HAVE COME - chelsea wolfe the sun goes down / and everything begins to fade away / the waves have come and taken you to sea / never to return to me

XV. EPILOGUE - the antlers i've woken up, i'm in our bed, but there's no breathing body there beside me / someone must have taken you while i was stuck asleep / but i know better as my eyes adjust, you've been gone for quite a while now

[rip-regulus]

random things I associate with the marauders + reg

james - the sun, cooking in an apartment with warm lighting, summer road trips specifically in a beaten up truck, red converse, the beach, wired ear buds, laying in a flower field, climbing trees, lighting mcqueen, the laurie love confession, a cd collection, pasta bakes, crying in the shower, treehouses, shotgunning a beer, forgetting to wear your glasses, singing on top of a table, large houses that are still really cozy, smiling really wide, frat parties, your mom jokes, slushy machines, doodles in the margin, polaroids

sirius - the stars, electric guitar, messy black sparkly eyeshadow, making snow angels, rings, having a bonfire, black chipped nail polish, a back pack covered in pin badges, drawing on a car window, smoking after sex, the arctic monkeys, motorbikes, david bowie vinyl, leaning out of a window, hickeys, zippo lighters, men walking the runway, bootcut jeans, setting off fireworks, mummy issues, blasting the radio, talking to the sky, leather jackets

remus - the moon, reading by a fireplace, black coffee, gatekeeping music artists, messily stacked books, really loud booing, grandpa sweaters, smoking in public, mars bars, scars, bed head, a swear jar, mismatched socks, playing chess, crisp autumn air, covering things in stickers, falling asleep in random places, writing a letter, anger issues, listening to records, studying for a test, leather book satchels, high alcohol tolerance

peter - the earth, telephone booths, potted plants, cobblestone streets, knowing secrets, tripping, crossword puzzles, not strong enough by boygenius, digital camera photos, gaming, decorating with picture frames, the end credits of movies, barbed wire fences, sleeping on a mattress on the floor, being exasperated, breaking your arm, big ears, fish eye lens, not being the first choice, welly boots, gambling, hardwood flooring, crayons

regulus - the ocean, paintings with a blurred face, smashed ceramic/glass, winged eyeliner, black cats, the story of icarus, reading poetry and classic literature, graveyards with overgrown grass, piano, religious trauma, bloody knuckles, freshly fallen snow, abandoned churches, nihilism, the movie coraline, gothic architecture, ballet, art museums, being at a crossroads, those windy staircases, the smell of rain, driving gloves, daggers

[seraphbliss]

get 2 steppin.

bro u better not come to miotxro street ... we 50 deep ...... the smoke is real and ready for u

ON MY OWN STREET ?!

[technological-existentialism]

[angelsarrm]

hello i think about angeltrick on the daily so if i may i present this post about an angel stuck in telephone wires

https://www.tumblr.com/librarycard/733800629042036736

(pete and andy did not get obliterated, theyre just dramatic)

[love-minor-poltergeist]

Could I please request headcannons on The Devil from Cuphead? Specifically, his cat-like habits🤣 For some reason, I can see Dice having a bottle labeled Holy Water(It’s just tap water actually😆) to spray Devil with when he gets unreasonably hissy.🤣🤣🤣

A/N: Once again, another dated request given how the Cuphead Show had the very same idea (ノ_<。). Nevertheless, we love a giant housecat from Hell. I hope you enjoy this batch, anon! Do reach out if you want me to adjust anything!!

Hell’s Top Cat, AKA The Devil:

┍━━━━━♥♠♣♦━━━━━┑

Long before the fall, one could argue the Devil already exhibited certain… feline habits. The silent, judgemental stares he’d doled out to his brothers and puny mortals, rising at god-forsaken hours early in the morning to expend whatever energy he’s pent up from being stuck behind a desk all day, a weird habit of chewing on anything non-edible— the list could go on. Of course, the Devil has long denied such behavior back then, and still does to this day. 

After the fall and surrounded by wild-eyed, bordering feral beasts within Hell’s landscapes, not to mention going through a bestial transformation himself, said habits have only grown more apparent. 

The Devil could be hard to read at certain times. However, certain business partners and the imps under his command have learned to pay close attention to his body language. Loathe as he is to admit it, he’s quite expressive with his tail and ears. Ears pointed straight up? The demon’s heard something and is straining to hear it, or you’ve caught his attention. Tail wagging and ears rapidly twitching? You got an angry demon on your hands and you better tread carefully. Ears wiggling as he’s eating? Oh golly, looks like he’s enjoying whatever he’s eating! 

His eyes were already unnerving back when he was an angel. Now they can glow in the dark? There may have been numerous times where King Dice nearly pissed himself when he stumbled upon his boss in the dark, nothing but the unnerving, inhumane glow of his eyes indicating the demon was even there. 

Thanks to his shapeshifting abilities, the Devil is able to comfortably fit in whatever confined space he sees fit. Truly the ultimate form of “If I fits, I sits”. Not to mention that it gives him an edge on spying on any employees that’re slacking off or sneaking up on any potential victims. 

Back in heaven, his pica-like habits were at least managed by his brothers and the Devil fussing over his public image. However, not that dear old dad isn’t around and he’s the King of Hell, he can do whatever he wants– so said habits have gotten worse. Numerous pens, clothed furniture, and a few telephone wires have fallen victim to the demon’s teeth. It’s gotten to the point where King Dice is considering spraying bitter apple spray on everything in the casino just so he didn't have to replace everything. 

The Devil usually has a nail file on hand to maintain his claws. He considers sharpening them on anything else to be beneath him. However, when he’s in a particularly bad mood or feeling territorial, he’ll tear up anything he could get his hands on. Couches, wallpaper, desks, people– it’s best to stay out of the way until he calms down. 

Sheds more than a tree in fall. There’s so much of his loose fur on his bedsheets, his balcony chair, and his office furniture that if you sneeze, it’ll trigger an explosion of hair everywhere. No, he refuses to acknowledge it. Shut up. 

That being said, he absolutely adores it when he’s brushed. It’s like a pleasant massage for him, scratching particularly pleasantly at an itch he didn’t even know he had. Of course, it’s a sobering experience for him when he’s presented with enough hair to make a life-sized replica of himself after a brushing session. 

┕━━━━━♥♠♣♦━━━━━┙

[251-dmr]

The 2-AziraCrow Theory

Maybe I should be calling this my head canon, and not even give it theory status.

But I’ll press on nevertheless. This theory had a seed planted when I saw this quote mentioned at the end of one of Sendarya’s videos in which she mentioned the Theologica Germanica concept of the soul having two halves.

The soul has two eyes When one makes an effort Without the other It shan't get very far, When they help each other They accomplish much. [William of St-Thierry]

Some time later, I began to see the pattern, a theme, that seemed to emphasize the concept of twos.

After noticing these, I started looking for other repeating, seemingly frequent ideas.

These ideas just keep crashing and bouncing and ricocheting around in my head. They just won’t coalesce into anything coherent. My apologies for the chaos and disorganization.

Theme – Two, Half, Split There are references everywhere, in dialog and visually, to “2”s, “halves”, and “splits”. Far too many to list, but examples include putting the lesser demons on half rations; being shown a demon’s split-tongue three different times, Azi & Crowley performing half a miracle each; Shax asking Crowley about the two yellow(!) lights on the boiler; the twin passions of Bildad; Crowley leads the humans out of the bookshop 2x2; even Uriel makes two complete revolutions pacing around Michael in the scene before Sq and Muriel arrive in E1. Honestly, the list is extensive. I suppose, however, that it could be referring to two of any number of things.

Theme – Inside/Outside Again, we have dialog and visuals that emphasize the idea of things being inside or outside, but especially inside. Azi to Crowley in the smitten scene “Why don’t you wait inside? You like to wait inside?” Nina’s “A lot of people in this head…”; And we have so many scenes of someone looking inside or out a window. I have quite a list in another document on my computer.

Theme – Spies This one starts right off with the spy sitting down at the wrong bench, next to Crowley. Shax recruits Crowley to try and find out what’s going on in the Up. Beez recruits Crowley to help find Gabriel, etc. Then there’s Jane Austen, master spy. The three zombies spying on them to get Furfur’s proof and we could even say that those go back to S1E3, 1941, “…half-witted Nazi spies running about London…” And, I also really, really don’t trust Michael. Could they be a spy for hell in heaven? But I don’t have any real evidence for that. Just a distrust of Michael.

Theme – “Bit”s Another word used throughout the season, and maybe even in S1. Well, we definitely have the final S1 scene with Azi saying to Crowley “…if you weren’t, at heart, just a little bit, a good person.” Searching the S2 transcript comes up with ~25-ish uses of the word. Is that a lot? Or normal? I have nothing to compare to it, nor base it on. So although Azi is not Crowley’s “bit on the side”, I thought, maybe Crowley is sometimes Azi’s “bit on the inside”.

Theme – Point Another well-used word throughout the script, appearing ~24 times. This is trickier, though, because “point” can have a number of reasons – the reason or conclusion, indicating direction, or the sharp point, of, say, a pin? I suspect that all are somehow applicable in this season.

But just looking at the last one, it could be a call-back to S1 and how many angels, or demons, can dance on the head of a pin. Where we learn that Crowley can make himself small enough to speed through a telephone wire.

I always vaguely thought Crowley’s line to Mrs Sandwich about whether or not she had her hatpin was a bit of an odd, maybe throw-away line and Mrs Sandwich responds so quickly and charmingly that the line gets passed over. But again, is it a reminder of what angels and demons are capable of? Or does this line mean something else I’m just not aware of?

Theme – Small Crowley Not as fully developed, and maybe not as obvious, but in E1 on the bench, for example, after the spy leaves, we see “normal-sized” Crowley immediately followed by seeing a “small” Crowley in Shax’s compact mirror (and he’s looking out of the mirror, see above) when she arrives. In the resurrection minisode, we see another “small” Crowley, when he’s off his head on laudanum.

Theme – “Invisible” Crowley As far as I’ve gotten to date, there are two definite scenes where I think Crowley is actually inside Azi’s head (or whatever) and not physically there.

First, when they leave GMCoGMD with the Eccles cakes in E1. As soon as they are outside the shop, Azi barely looks at Crowley, and Maggie doesn’t seem to see him, that brief conversation is only between Azi and Maggie. Crowley only “talks” to Azi once they’ve started walking again.

Second, and the bigger one, is in E5 when Azi heads out to solicit the shopkeepers to go to the meeting. Crowley asks “Can I watch?” and just follows Azi around and again, Azi barely looks at him; the shopkeepers appear to act as if they are only talking to one person, and Crowley is completely quiet around them, just hanging around in the background.

I also noticed that in these cases Crowley is on Azi’s right, the opposite of where we usually see him. (Oh, an exception is Mrs Cheng, where he’s on Azi’s left again, and he acknowledges Mrs Cheng when they leave, implying to me that Mrs Cheng can see him.) There could be more instances where we see this behavior, but I haven’t studied every episode yet to look for it.

Theme – S2 posters Just looking at these two for now. Azi and Crowley with one pair of wings, one white one black, behind them. I’ve seen the line “…and they aren’t talking…” I’m not quite convinced yet that they aren't talking. I think it could mean they aren’t talking face-to-face, physically. And I optimistically see their positioning as that they’ve still got each other’s back. Maybe I’m in denial, but I just don’t see the “break-up” as extensive as many seem to.

The other poster is this one of Azi and Crowley, each with the other in their heads/thoughts. Crowley is “seeing” Azi from a memory, from 1941. But Azi is seeing a current Crowley, draped across the bookshop chair. Also, I noted that the [double!] rings that surround them are linked.

My way-out-there idea, then, is that Azi and Crowley have “carved out” space for a duplicate but also somehow real, bookshop (a high-fidelity copy?) within Azi, within his mind, his brain, his soul, I don’t know. And he can enter and leave it as needed. It could also be a copy of Azi’s memories or something.

But it’s also someplace Crowley can visit, a place he can go in and out of (like the telephone lines in S1) as needed. I wonder, then, does Crowley in the end “split” himself, so that a “bit” of himself can go up to heaven with Azi? Referring back to Jane Austen, brandy smuggler – is Azi smuggling Crowley into heaven? All season, Azi usually has his hands closed, perhaps to imply he’s carrying and/or hiding something.

With this theory, it gets complicated, though, figuring out which “reality” we’re looking at. The external original(?) world? Azi’s copy in his head? Or a memory? Or none of the above and this is all nonsense.

Multiple sets of memories, possibly getting mixed together, could help account for the inconsistencies in flashbacks, the apparent “continuity errors” in various scenes, the changing POV.

We’ve seen the physical appearance swap. We’ve seen Azi’s physical possession of Madame Tracy in which they could both control the body. What I am considering is neither of those.

This is just a start. I’ll keep working on it unless someone already has some convincing evidence that clearly refutes the idea.

[ilovedthestars]

i am usually not a Major Character Death person, but I'm currently having a surprisingly fun time playing in the sandbox of "what would happen if Matthew Swift got killed and the blue electric angels ended up back in the wires?"

like. would he go with them? would you be able to tell if he had? how would his friends feel about him being dead? how would they feel about a part of still being alive, singing in the telephones? how would he feel about it, if he was still There enough to have an opinion? how would the angels feel about losing sense but regaining freedom?

not to mention, if the blue electric angels and their dead sorcerer companion could be summoned out of the telephone lines once, could it be done again? and would anyone be crazy enough to try?