#he deserves Marie's wrath

[jacks347]

i feel like there actually is an extreme difference between milo and darlin’s situations which caused the different reactions. I mean for all we know milo and sweetheart could’ve never told the pack about the real story of how they met. But anyways- regarding the situation with milo, yes he did throw himself into a dangerous situation, but he wasn’t alone, he was with a trained professional (sweetheart) that knew exactly how to deal with it. And we both know that this pair don’t let rules dictate how they keep everyone safe (milo & the inversion), so maybe telling everyone about the circumstances of their meeting could get them in trouble with the department rather than just david and the pack and/or gabe.

i feel like this is the main difference between their situations, because milo and sweetheart not telling the pack doesn’t put the pack in danger. However, darlin’s situation included lying about quinn’s arrest, fighting his minions (lol i don’t know a better word for this), all while not telling the pack/david about it. The weight of both of their situations is extremely different, because quinn was still an imminent threat to the pack, whereas for milo and sweetheart, the one shade was already dealt with.

i do agree with you that david handled the situation wrong, but i feel like milo and darlin’s situations are so different that they don’t deserve to have the same reaction.

I love the amount of people getting in on this argument, it's honestly a lot of fun to read.

Anyway, yes you make some very good points. The situations are very different and don't deserve the exact same treatment, that wouldn't be fair. But it more so comes down to the principle of the situation.

Both threw themselves at a life or death situation that they didn't necessarily have to be in with no regard for their own life or safety. The big difference is Darlin went solo while Milo had help, yes, but it was with someone who maybe wasn't totally prepared for the situation at hand. Which is why he had to go in the first place.

Yes, the real story of Milo and Sweetheart probably stays under wraps. One of those stories you only tell when you're drunk and someone starts prodding. But considering the circumstances, I think they told Gabe. Like, legally, they had to. Because it was a Department investigation that involved the pack. I know Sweetheart didn't talk to him about the event but I know for damn sure there was probably some legal stipulation that they had to tell him about the pack involvement in the investigation. Therefore, Gabe probably had to know the real story and Milo definitely got his ass handed to him about it.

Yes, Darlin's situation was far more dangerous and posed far more of an actual threat to the pack, I understand that. But it misses the point. I'm not saying Millo deserves the same level of getting ripped into by the pack that Darlin did, but I am saying he deserves to have some level of getting ripped into by the pack. He went into an extremely dangerous situation with no backup other than a brand new investigator who was definitely under qualified for the job they were trying to do. He could've died and no one would've known. Would Sweetheart tell the Department? Would they have to? And if they did, would the Department have to tell the pack? Or would they simply cover it all up and act like nothing happened? If it was covered up, would Sweetheart feel too guilty and tell the pack themself? The legalities of the situation get very complicated very quickly.

I'm not saying he should go full social pariah like Darlin was. But he does deserve just a little bit of it. He deserves for someone else to know and call him stupid. Preferably his mother since I know she would do it best. He deserves judgement for his actions. Maybe it would've caused him to take at least a little bit of pause before nearly frying his core to a crisp at the Inversion.

[babysukiii]

fallingforyou (1)

lottie x fem!reader enemies to lovers au <3

// lottie matthew’s does not like you. you’re annoying, preppy, and way too nice. lottie doesn’t fail to show you time after time just how much she hates you. you finally get the message and steer clear of her, until senior year, when you both get paired up for a science project. //

i’ll never make it right (if you don’t want me ‘round)

you don’t really know why lottie matthews hates you, but she does. she has since freshman year, and up until senior year, nothing changes. lottie isn’t known for being a mean person… in fact, she’s actually very nice. but for some reason, she just hates you. you don’t really know what you did, or why she treats you like you’re absolute garbage… but she does. you aren’t really the type to beg or try to make someone like you, especially someone popular and rich like charlotte isobel matthews.

you’ve never really been popular at all. your best friend is natalie mary scatorccio, and you’re mostly friends with the ‘nerds’ and ‘dorks’. you’re even friends with a few theater kids. everyone at school knows who you are, but you aren’t really interested in your social status. in fact, sometimes in lottie’s opinion it was almost like you didn’t care at all. you walked around so carefree and unapologetically yourself… lottie for some reason hated that. she hated that while she had to take her meds, and act like someone she’s not; you get to be whoever the hell you want.

today though, everyone around lottie matthews was feeling her wrath. it wasn’t unusual for lottie to be catty, or snappy when someone deserved it, but today it seemed as if the yellowjackets sweeper was angry at everyone and everything. you were steering clear of her since this morning and natalie noticed the way you had been avoiding her as well. it wasn’t unlike you to try and avoid lottie; she was unnecessarily mean and always had a sardonic response to whatever you had to say, but you never avoided natalie.

“jesus christ, what the fuck is wrong with you today, matthews?” mari asks in frustration after falling right on her ass. lottie had just knocked her out of the way in order to get the ball during practice. mari was currently glaring up at lottie from the grass she had landed on. “get your head in the game, and maybe this wouldn’t be a problem.” lottie responds in a way that everyone recognizes. she’s clearly in a mood and it causes the girls to exchange looks of uncertainty. coach scott blows his whistle as soon as mari stands up.

“alright, that’s enough practice for today. everyone get changed and go home.” he dismisses the girls who all sigh in a bit of relief. as everyone begins to get off the field, tai makes her way up to natalie; jackie not too far behind. “hey, what’s wrong with lot?” tai asks in a whisper, as they all rush into the locker room. “she’s just being an ass because ms. weinstein paired her up with y/n for a chemistry project.” natalie says, and mari groans. “what does that have to do with us??” the raven haired girl complains.

“why can’t she just ask ms. weinstein for a new partner?” jackie asks and natalie smirks, “y/n already tried. i think that’s why lottie’s pissed.” natalie states, and jackie throws her head back and lets out a laugh. “oh wow, that’s a new one. y/n wanting to switch partners? she’s gonna get lottie an easy ‘A’ and lottie’s being a di—“ jackie cuts herself off as soon as lottie begins to walk up to them; a scowl etched onto her face. “you assholes do realize that my locker is right on the other side of yours right? i can hear everything.” the taller girl points out.

you used to always try to talk to her. you’d smile at her, and compliment her outfits. yet she’d always scowl at you or have a clear expression of annoyance, and say something harsh. she noticed you stopped smiling at her in the middle of junior year. this year, you’ve barely even spared her a glance. lottie didn’t even think you realized you were both in ms. weinstein’s class together, but apparently you did. “you’re not the only person who’s unhappy about who you got paired up with. it’s just a few weeks. try not to be such a cunt about it.” natalie says seriously, and lottie rolls her eyes in response.

“i can’t help it if she’s insufferable.” the taller girl mumbles under her breath, causing mari to shake her head and make a face. “she’s insufferable?” mari asks sarcastically as she finishes getting dressed. “i think y/n is nice. she let me copy off all her notes in trig last month.” shauna shrugs as she brushes her in the mirror inside of her locker. “yeah, she remembered my dog had surgery during the summer and she brought me a bag of treats for him when the year started.” akilah pipes up, causing lottie to scoff.

“okay, so she remembered a few things you said, and she let you cheat off her work. who cares? she’s still annoying.” lottie states before swinging her duffle bag over her shoulder and walking out. natalie shakes her head, slamming her locker shut. “i swear if she so much as makes y/n shed a single tear, i’m kicking her ass.” natalie says in a tone so serious, nobody dares question it. though, most of the girls knew how sensitive you were; everyone did. it was only a matter of time before lottie actually did hurt your feelings.

the next day at school, you and lottie have yet to discuss anything about the project. you two haven’t even decided on a topic, and you’ve never been unprepared for a school assignment before. but right now, your pride was too important to you. you didn’t want to be the bigger person and cordially talk to lottie. you’ve tried that; you’ve done nothing but try and be polite or nice. yet all of your efforts have been rewarded with rude comments or bratty behavior. so you were done trying.

“okay i want you all to get into your pairs and talk about the project you should’ve gotten started on yesterday.” ms. weinstein announces, causing you to nearly sink into your chair. you can feel a pair of dark eyes on you, and you look over in lottie’s direction to see her already staring at you. as if she’s waiting for you to make the first move. you internally sigh, realizing that you’re probably going to have to be the bigger person again.

finally, you get up and hesitantly make your way over to the empty seat beside lottie. “hi.” you greet her a bit quietly, and she nods, “hey.” she retorts in a low, uncaring manner. you take a breath, “maybe we could do a study of saponification reactions. it’s just an option, i honestly don’t care what topic we do.” you admit and she nods, thankfully not saying anything rude yet. “we can do that. i don’t care either.” her voice is curt and the answers are short. you nod slowly as you open your notebook to the next blank page, and label it.

lottie notices you use a blue color pen to label it, and then a black one to take actual notes with. you have a whole bunch of colored pens in different colors for your notes, and how prim and proper your writing was seemed to irk her too. then her eyes seem to dance up to your face; the way your brows creased together in slight concentration. your hair was a bit frizzy during this time of day because school was almost over, and lottie could smell your overwhelmingly girly perfume. it smells like vanilla.

“did you want to work on this at your place or mine?” you wonder out loud, the pen never leaving the paper. “yours.” lottie answers way too quickly, but thankfully you don’t say anything about it. you nod, “okay. here’s my address and the number to my landline in my room.” you say as you turn to a new page, and write your phone number and home address down. you tear the page out when your done, and hand it to lottie who says nothing as she takes it.

lottie pauses for a moment, thinking about how much she hates her house. she wonders if maybe you hate yours too. “we could work in the library if you don’t want to work at your place.” the noirette actually sounds considerate as she says this, and you look surprised for just a second, before offering this shy smile that she hadn’t seen directed at her for nearly a year and half now. “it’s okay! i don’t mind working at my place. my little sister practices the violin after school sometimes… but she’ll be quiet if i ask.” you assure her and lottie only nods in response.

“anything else you wanna warn me about?” she inquires a bit sarcastically, and you nod. “my older sister is kind of a bitch.” you say bluntly, taking lottie by surprise. she’s never once heard you curse. at all. you can’t help but laugh lightly at her reaction, “she’s not that bad though…” you trail off before the bell rings, and you immediately start putting your things into your backpack. “wait, when did you wanna start?” lottie questions, and you shrug. “whenever your free after school just come over.” you assure her and she furrows her brows as she stands up.

“but your debate club—” she starts and you cut her off, “i quit last month. i’ll see you later!” you rush out of the room before lottie can say another word. she huffs; this was going to be a horrid few weeks.

[kittenfangirl20]

With that said, I don’t like this version of God either and I will explain why and how I imagine him looking and acting. Though I do like the idea of four eyes floating around his head like that. My version of Hazbin Hotel God looks like a slightly older version of Adam, but he still has the four eyes floating around his head as well as two eyes on his face. Why I imagine him looking so much like Adam is because I am going with how Adam was made in God’s image. His attitude is he is the type that he only speaks when he has something important to say so he is usually the quiet type. He can be wrathful, but he has to be pushed to that point like how Earth was during the time of Noah, the whole Moses story, and being forced to watch Yeshua/Jesus die very painfully. He is more open to Charlie’s idea, but have Charlie realize that some Sinners don’t want to be saved and some deserved to be cut down by Adam. He is mostly caring especially towards Adam (who he sees as one of his sons) and Yeshua/Jesus (his actual son that he was created from his very being before he had him put into Mary so Yeshua/Jesus could experience a human life. He definitely wouldn’t gleefully tell Emily how she was wrong to the point she was upset. I think this fan image of God looks too much like one of the angels when humans were made to look more like God according to everything I have read.

[pecanwriter]

Gluttony (WG story)

Themes: urban fantasy, supernatural creatures, rapid weight gain

Words: 1851

Part: 1/1

Gluttony. Lust. Greed. Wrath. Sloth. Vain. Pride.

“Is he the new one then?”

“I liked it better when we had the old Gula.”

“Nobody asked for your opinion now, have they?

“Siblings, please, calm.”

His eyes open for the first time and he sees that he is seated at a table. There are six others there, sitting around it in a circle.

He never saw them, he never saw anything before, but as he looks at them one by one he knows exactly who they are.

An androgynous person; perfect beyond belief, pale and white-haired and beautiful. They are naked; Luxuria. Lust.

Next, a man, dark-haired and dark-skinned, wearing a perfectly tailored suit, smiling widely. His teeth are bright white and his eyes gleam with ruthless sharpness; Avaritia. Greed.

Next to Greed, a woman. Gaunt, breathing heavily, eyes ablaze with fury, her red hair floating around her like a halo of fire; Ira. Wrath.

Next, a ragged man in a stained, threadbare shirt. He smiles lazily with a set of yellowish, uneven teeth; Acedia. Sloth.

Following him, an androgynous figure, as dark as Luxuria is white and equally beautiful. They are sitting perfectly still, all sharp cheekbones and a long, perfectly poised neck; Vanagloria. Vain.

Lastly, between himself and Vanagloria a tall woman, sitting straight as an arrow, her mouth pressed into a thin line, her green gaze daring and unyielding. She is wearing a suit as perfectly tailored as her brother’s; Superbia. Pride.

They are the Seven Deadly Sins. And he is one of them. He is Gula.

Gluttony.

“Welcome back, brother,” Pride says.

“What happened to my previous body?” He asks, lifting a hand to look at it.

Sloth snorts a laugh, sticking a greyish tongue out between his yellow teeth.

“Silence!” Pride snaps.

“You know we cannot tell you, brother!” says Wrath.

“Why are we here then?”

“Ceremony, of course,” Lust says rubbing their flat chest with long, slender fingers.

“Just making sure you go right back to work, brother dear.” Greed says, his bright smile wide and predatory “Just remember, brother.” Greed continues, his voice shooting right through Gluttony “You are not immune to your own power.”

“What does that mean?” He asks, but before Greed can answer, the table dissolves into mist, and his siblings disappear like snuffed candle flames.

Earth.

It felt like a thousand years since Gula’s last visit. He knew that his death and rebirth didn’t even last a second in the material universe, but he didn’t think he would ever get used to that. As usual, the feeling of not knowing what happened to his previous manifestation is disconcerting, but not enough to distract him from the overpowering urge to get back to work. Sensing a familiar stirring in his gut, he stalks down the street. A fat middle-aged man stood in front of a candy store, looking at the display with deep longing.

“You deserve a treat, Peter, you had such a long day at the office. And you’ve been so good with your diet! Mary surely wouldn’t mind if you just had a few caramels…” Gula whispers into Peter’s ear, looking at their reflections in the shop window. Peter’s is the only one visible.

Gula watches as the expression on the man’s face changes from longing to determination and he disappears inside the store.

Feeling rejuvenated and pleasantly tingly all over, Gula continues down the street, feeling the voices calling to him. Ah, how he missed working.

A boy stands on a doorstep, bearing a gift bag in his hands, gazing into it with a conflicted expression.

“Mom indeed gave you this to take to Andy’s birthday party, but surely Andy doesn’t need a toy, a chocolate and a whole pack of candies too, right? He will probably get so many sweets from other people anyway, the toy will be enough.”

He stays just long enough for the boy to stuff the candy into his pocket and tear it into the chocolate. The smell is enticing, almost enchanting to Gula, but propelled by his nature, he moves on to the next one.

He stopped by two women sitting in an outside area of a cafe. The older one is slim, stiff and superior, the younger fat, glorious and visibly enraged.

“Your mother will always be a hateful bitch, Carla.” He says, leaning over Carla’s chubby shoulder “She will never stop pestering you about your weight, so you might as well show her how little you care. Go on.” He urges.

“What can I get for you, ladies?” The waitress asks, approaching the table.

“Just black coffee for me.” Carla’s mother says, her smile as stiff as the rest of her.

“I will have…” Carla leans over the menu, her fat stomach pressing into the edge of the table “The chocolate Sundae, a wild berry milkshake and a lava cake.” She smiles sweetly at the waitress before shooting a satisfied smirk at her mother’s enraged, poorly subdued gasp.

“Nice work, brother mine.” Someone whispers into his ear and a shiver runs through him.

“What are you doing?” He asks, whipping around to look at Lust.

Luxuria points to another table where a pair sits elbow to elbow, pretending to be deep in conversation, but Gula sees that their hands are under the table and in each other’s pants.

“Leave me be, sibling,” Gula warns and Luxuria saunters away, leaning over the lovebirds and whispering into their ears.

The waitress appears, carrying Carla’s order and Gula’s stomach growls. Oh, how delicious that lava cake looks. Oh, how that milkshake calls him…

“Careful, brother mine,” Luxuria calls, but when Gula turns they are no longer there.

He turns back around and as the waitress walks by him he snatches the lava cake off the tray.

“Here you go…” She says, but then stops, examining the tray in confusion “I’m so sorry, I forgot your lava cake! I will be back in a moment.”

She scurries away but Gula doesn’t pay the woman any attention anymore, all he can think of is that glorious cake, dark and rich, with a dollop of whipped cream and three raspberries on top.

His mouth stretches inhumanly wide as he slides the entire thing into it. Gula chews and the taste explodes in his mouth. Sensations play a symphony in his mouth, making the entire physical plane shift.

Body ablaze, Gula stalks down the street, and suddenly every desperate need and yearning is amplified, every human longing for a sweet morale screaming at him.

“Do it, Anthony, what’s a few more pounds?” He whispers, snatching a piece of greasy, mind-numbingly delicious pizza as he walks by.

“Come on, Gretchen, you’ll start the diet tomorrow,” Gula says, grabbing a piece of a piping hot apple pie.

“Who is Doctor Amir to tell you four hundred pounds is too much? You’re just big-boned!” He laughs, snatching a piece of layered cake in every hand. He stuffs them both into his mouth at the same time, already moving on to the next one.

More, more, more.

He wants more, he can feel it all. They want it, every single one of them wants it with such deep, unyielding desperation.

But none wants it as much as he does.

His gluttony is rivalled by no man. He isn’t gluttonous. He is Gluttony.

It is not coming to him, it is coming from him.

His gift for humanity.

Gula stalks down the streets, tempting human beings everywhere. In every city, in every town, every country.

Everywhere.

The more he tempts the bigger his hunger, it overpowers him. Soon, he doesn’t stalk down the streets, he walks. Sooner still, he waddles, swollen and overfed, but still wanting more. His jaw constantly working; chewing, stretching, ingesting.

“You…want… it…” He pants into the ear of a man staring at a hot dog stand.

Gula has grown too enormously fat to say more than that, the accumulation of lard pressing on his lungs too much to speak. Still, he grabs two hot dogs from the stand and stuffs them whole into his mouth.

He waddles down the street, gasping for air, the enormous rolls of fat covering him swaying with the movement. His gigantic gut almost dragging on the floor in front of him.

“You fool!” He hears a sharp bark of laughter.

Avaritia stands in the street, almost melting into the group of businessmen talking loudly next to him.

“What… do you… want… Greed?” Gula pants, snatching a massive burger out of a woman’s hand. He inhales it whole and the additional weight of it is the tipping point. His body grows too enormous to support itself and he falls, the impact shaking the street and sending shockwaves across the fatty expanses of his flesh.

“I told you, brother.” Greed says, walking over to stand over Gula. “You are not immune to your own power. Once you taste human food it’s already too late.”

“What happens now?” Gula demands.

“Here.” Greed laughs, snatching a chocolate cake from a nearby vendor and placing it on top of Gula’s enormous mountain of a stomach. “Enjoy it before He comes.”

“Avaritia!” Gula bellows, but his brother is gone.

Unable to move, trapped under his flesh, Gula reaches for the cake. He can barely grab it, but he is determined to consume.

“Hello, cousin.” An oddly neutral, flat voice says and, out of the dark corner of the street, He steps out.

Gula swallows, his enormous chins shaking with the movement.

“What are you doing here?” He asks, already knowing the answer, but unable not to ask. This is how it must go. This is how it goes every time. He’s starting to remember. And with that memory arrives the knowledge of what comes next. Gula shutters, wanting more than anything to run, but he’s trapped. The enormous body overflowing with fat is too heavy even for his otherworldly powers to control

“I am the Eldest.” says He, hovering in closer.

“Must you do this?”

“You’re unable to perform your duties, thus you must be remade to begin anew.”

“Why do I have to forget every time? If I remembered maybe I wouldn’t let the human food tempt me…”

“Such is your fate, Gula.” says He, now hovering over Gula. He’s so close His cold, freezing breath wafts over Gula’s face.

Such is your fate.

You are not immune to your own power, brother.

He understands.

He is Greed and Greed is him.

As He moves in, outstretching a black-fingered, skeletal hand towards him, Gula stuffs the last piece of cake into his mouth. He won’t remember, but he savours the taste.

The black hand snatches and everything dissolves.

“Is he the new one then?”

“I liked it better when we had the old Gula.”

“Nobody asked for your opinion now, have they?

“Siblings, please, calm.”

His eyes open for the first time and he sees that he is seated at a table. There are six others there, sitting around it in a circle. They are the Seven Deadly Sins. And he is one of them.

He is Gula.

Gluttony.

[jungle-angel]

Three's Company But Four Is The Best Crowd (Calvin Evans x Reader)

Summary: You and Calvin were not expecting to take on a new member of the family at all, but in the end, it was the best decision you had ever made

Warnings: Parenthood, mentions of birth etc.

Tagging: @floydsmuse My dear, I hope this brightens the day a little bit, I hope it's not too much but it's something

"So technically he didn't get the question wrong but they whacked him on it anyways," Calvin rattled off as you and him walked up the street with Ellen in her little stroller and Six-Thirty on his leash.

"Are you serious?" you asked him. "Why? Arnie is one of your smartest students."

"Because he screwed up one of the formulas for balancing a reaction in a base compound and it ended with making a substance that smelled like a noxious fart," Calvin chuckled.

"So that's who the stinkbomb culprit was!" you blurted out. "I knew it!"

"I kept telling Arnie that he's gonna have to start a stinkbomb business," Calvin chuckled. "He might even end up getting a contract from the Secretary of Defense if he's lucky."

Your laughter was suddenly interrupted when something darted around the hedgerows, startling the both of you and Six-Thirty who began barking. To your amazement, it was a frightened little cocker spaniel with curly ears and a squished little nose. She whimpered and whined, pawing at both you and Calvin, begging as though she were in danger of something.

"What in the blue hell is this?" Calvin wondered.

From around the corner you could hear the shouts of miscreants and a familiar one at that, Frieda Burns's grandsons, Dean and Ritchie. They came around the corner with the rest of their neighborhood bullies but stopping dead in their tracks when they saw Calvin and you standing nearby.

"Where's that dog?" Dean demanded.

"Yeah where'd it go?" Ritchie cut in.

"I don't think you two little shitheads deserve to know," Calvin answered coldly.

"Listen Calvin," Ritchie spat.

"That's Mr. Evans to you, you little twerps," Calvin reminded them sharply. "Didn't your mother ever teach you manners and respect for your elders?"

"Ma doesn't care what we do," Dean retorted.

"Yeah," said Ritchie.

You and Calvin both glanced at each other before turning your attention back to the boys. "Oh," Calvin said. "Well in that case perhaps we ought to tell someone else then. (Y/n) what do you think?"

"Oh certainly," you answered. "The last thing I'd want is for Father McDowell to find out about this little incident."

Both Ritchie and Dean swallowed hard, their little adam's apples bobbing in their throats. Every neighborhood bully feared the fiery Irish Catholic priest who ran both St. Mary's church and his end of the block like a Navy ship. More than once a big, tough bully had the gall to act up in front of the good father, only to be met with a birch rod on his backside.

"What in the damned hell is all that yellin fer?!" thundered a voice from behind the hedgerows. "Blast it! Can't a man work in 'is own bloody garden in peace?!"

"Shit! It's him!"

"Run for it!"

Six-Thirty barked and growled at them as they ran away, tugging at his leash and wanting nothing more than to go after them. "Go get'em boy!" Calvin ordered.

He loosed Six-Thirty from his leash, the dog taking off like a bullet as Father McDowell continued to thunder a string of obscenities from behind the hedgerows. The other bullies had scattered, but Six-Thirty had returned chasing Dean and Ritchie back up the block, the two of them clutching their backsides to keep from getting bitten before running smack into the priest.

"Well, well, what've we here?" Father McDowell chuckled icily. "Jest as I suspected, Dean'n Ritchie Burns. What'd ye two get into this time now eh? Breakin the windas down at Mr. Kennedy's lunch counter again are ye?"

The boys tried to make an excuse as Father McDowell grabbed ahold of each of their ears, the priest's wrath incurred even further when he caught sight of the frightened little spaniel.

"Oh-ho!" he concluded. "Chasin a stray were yas? Jest like your miserable excuse of a father and uncle ye are."

"Go to hell!" the boys shouted.

"Now don't ye gimme that!" the priest snapped. "I ever hear it outta either o' yer mouths again, I'll string ye both up by the balls by thunder! Now get yer skeeter bitten carcasses home to yer mudder!"

Dean and Ritchie took off, both terrified of their ordeal. Father McDowell gave a bullish snort as soon as they were out of earshot. "Detestable little piss worms," he hissed under his breath.

"Sorry to ruin your afternoon Padre," Calvin laughed.

"Bah!" Father McDowell said with a wave of his hand. "T'weren't nothin. Makes fer an interestin breakup in the mundane of it I always say. Now why don't the two of ye come into the garden fer a bit, Helen'll be home soon."

"I think we'll have to save it for another day Padre," you said. "We weren't counting on any of this."

Father McDowell tried to pet the poor little cocker but she backed away, a high pitched whine catching in her throat. "Poor little thing," he sighed. "I've seen'er down by Kennedy's lunch counter."

"Any chance the vet's office is open?" Calvin asked.

"Nah," Father McDowell said. "Last I saw they close 'round suppertime. Best bet would be for'er to go home with ye and go in the mornin."

You and Calvin scooped up the little dog and bid Father McDowell farewell before heading for home. You both thought it a little odd and funny that she refused to leave Six-Thirty's side, the same going for your beloved companion.

Back to the house you went where Pat and Henny were out on the front porch, waiting for Henny's husband Paul, to close up his barbershop and bring the girls back from her sister's house.

"You two are back early," Pat remarked.

"And it looks like they brought a little friend with'em," Henny laughed, setting her glass of peach lemonade down on the porch table.

"Funny story Henny," you chuckled, lifting Ellen from her stroller.

"Oh honey I heard it all," Henny laughed. "Marshall came runnin all the way back from the store and he could hear the good father givin the Burns boys hell."

You and Calvin went into the house to get Ellen settled and dinner ready, hoping that Henny and Paul would stay with their granddaughters. You found an extra one of Six-Thirty's food bowls and filled it with a little bit of food, the little cocker eagerly coming to eat and gobbling up her foot as though she hadn't eaten in years.

Sure enough, Paul came by with his and Henny's two youngest granddaughters, Betsy and Ruby, the four of them staying for dinner. By the time they had left, you and Calvin noticed Six-Thirty and his new little friend, laying together on his bed cushion near the window, neither of them wanting to get up as he lay his head on top of hers.

You had just given Ellen her bath while Calvin was reading to her from her little bedtime storybook, gently rocking back and forth in the rocking chair in her nursery. By the time she had been tucked in and had fallen asleep, you peeked back downstairs to find your two canine companions fast asleep.

"That is the oddest sight I have ever seen," you chuckled.

"Who would have ever thought that Six-Thirty would find a mate?" Calvin remarked, smiling broadly.

"Well, you and I found each other so it's not entirely out of the ordinary," you said.

Calvin pressed a kiss to your forehead and several down the side of your head and cheek before pressing a lingering kiss to your lips. "You know she's gonna need a dog license, papers and a collar and her tags."

"We can do all that tomorrow," you laughed.

You and Calvin turned in for the night, eager to officially welcome your new little friend into the family.

[hughiecampbelle]

Divine (Helmut Zemo Oneshot)

Character/s: Zemo, Bucky

Word Count: 1,691

Requested: rupture + slamming doors + "If I wanted to, I would have already."

A/N: Not requested, just an idea I wanted to try out :) Feedback is always appreciated!!! 💜💜💜

REQUESTS ARE OPEN 🔮

Святой. Иголка. Собака. Покайтесь. Музыка. Шрам. Более легкий. Девятнадцать. Бог. Ангел. He rattles off those words like they are nothing, like they mean nothing, placing them between sentences, attempting coherency, while he waits for the aneurysm to burst. It’s cerebral: meaning “of relating to the brain or intellect”. The words, the diagnosis. You are smart, he knows this, he has seen this, therefore you are destined to be doomed. You always have been. The vessel wall is weak (frail, feeble, fragile) and the blood begins to pool, applying pressure to the nerves. The brain. Eventually, the vessel will fracture and begin to hemorrhage. You have yet to detonate, though you’re close: your seams are loose, the wires crossed, your skull filled to the brim. Seeing red. The rupture will be catastrophic. No survivors. Under your breath you repeat the words: over and over, trying to regain control, trying not to let him win. Your fists are balled. Your voice is shaky. Your heartbeat rapid. Cerebral aneurysms can lead to brain damage, hemorrhagic stroke, coma, and death. You wonder if you will die like this, listing off those words, everything in you fighting for control. You wonder if his voice will still be in your head, all of their voices, while you become undone. 

Святой. Saint. You weren’t devout. Your mother, though, feared the wrath of God. She went to the saints, the individuals, to solve her problems. Her knees bled, and her back broke, and the holy pages became frayed. She wore Mary around her neck, clutching her, cradling her. She pleaded and you’d wait for something to happen. A miracle. A light. Anything. She’s find her glasses and thank St. Anthony. It was St. Raphael who cured you when you were sick. St. Agnes would keep you pure. You didn’t not believe. You had no proof in either direction. It didn’t seem fair to write them all off completely. Still, it didn’t sit right with you. It still doesn’t. You can’t remember her face. In your memories, her features are blank. Her voice, her mannerisms, all of gone along with her name. But her devotion, her begging, has been carved into you, deep enough where Hydra could not touch. All across the world, you’d wander off to churches between jobs, blood scrubbed off your skin, circling the drain as the doors open. The pews lined. The priest would welcome you in, speak to you in his native tongue, and you would shyly reciprocate. If not fluent, then stumbling your way through a prayer to your mothers saints long gone. They don’t hear you: you know this. They heard her, the worked in her favor. You called to them, to help you, to save you, as they tore you apart. Nothing changed. No one stopped. Still, there is a moral obligation, an innately human desire, to ask for forgiveness. Even someone as irredeemable and sullied as you bows your head and clasps your hands together. You prayed to your mother, a stranger now, that she might be looking down on you, that she is not upset with what you have become. A killer. An assassin. Where was St. Agnes now?

Иголка. Needle. There is nothing to compare it to, no history of childhood fits, no surge of panic in your adolescence, nothing, though you’ve been told you become difficult in the presence of needles. You used to put up more of a fight, hysterical at the idea of something sharp and pointed plunging into you. After the accident, most of your body was in ruins. You needed IV’s, and shots, and spinal taps. You screamed and cried and bargained everything you had, everything you were worth. Zola didn’t believe in pain killers. It would be wasted on something that didn’t deserve relief. Strapped to the table, a syringe digging into your spine, he’d shush you, your wimpers, brushing the sweat off your face. His breath was hot, his words pungent. That piece of you never got lost. They tried, they really did. Their own version of exposure therapy. Sam thought you were ridiculous. Your bones, your skin, your muscle put back together, most of you metal and scar tissue (Frankensteineque) and yet your eyes tear up at the thought of a vaccine. You have killed and been killed, but a needle, something so small it’s insignificant, throws off your day. Sends you into a panic. Not because of what they did. Not because, when you were especially difficult to deal with, they’d puncture you like a human pincushion. But something deeper, older, in you that you cannot recite. Something childlike and stubborn remains and they come out even now, petrified and clawing, trying to get away. This piece of you is not embarrassing, as others would expect. Rather it is proof that a part of you is still human. Still mortal. Still you. 

Собака. Dog. He’d look at you the way one does at a rotten dog.  He’d watch you like your canines have fallen out of your gums, like your mouth is a series of sockets and spit, like your legs are chewed and chunkless, and your eyes are glazed over with cataracts. He never meant to. Zola. Loved you as one loves an old dog, too. With admiration and nostalgia. You were his child, his creation, his life. The Winter Soldier was his best, but you would always be his favorite. They broke you before they put you together again. You’d yelp, and bark, and whine. There was so much pain, it was all-encompassing. Blinding. Not just your skin, but in the marrow of your bones. It’s indescribable. He would stand by your side, he would hold your hand. When you regained feeling, eventually, you could feel him squeezing it. One. Two. Three. Your mouth tasted of metal. Even your gums were bleeding. You’d try to speak, but the gag in your mouth prevented it. He loved you. He loved you so much he locked you in a cage. Like a dog, he expected you to obey. To sit, and stand, and protect him, protect them. You were allowed to play, to bite at one another, but they preferred to keep you and Bucky separate. There was a great fear that, if placed beside one another, you would learn to communicate, to work together, and find a way out. The more secluded you were, the safer they would be. 

Шрам. Scar. You didn’t return to the living unscathed. Your body was all scar tissue. Hard, restricting, and thick. Some have faded, others tear open with one wrong move. You were the first of your kind, a test subject they could have a little fun with. It isn’t pretty. Some of it resembles your natural features: they eye they replaced is identical to the real one. Other parts they chose to keep more archaic. You are metal, and flesh, the two working together to keep you in one piece. You used to rust. They’d upgrade the mechanics every few years when something better was invented. It was excruciating. You don’t look like a person. What’s worse, you don’t feel like one. Where there should be softness is sterility. Zemo has seen more than anyone’s been allowed. He’s watched your muscles contort, heard the faint whirring of your limbs as they reconfigure themselves. He understands why Zola loved you so. You were beautiful. When the time came to use you, to blame you, a small part of him was remorseful. Sorry. You still catch him staring. Not out of anger or confusion, but infatuation. They all liked you for your body. That never stops. Not in life, not after death. 

Ангел. Angel. That was your name, the one they gave you when you forgot your own. There was The Winter Soldier and there was The Angel. Instinctual, you answered to it. A reflex. A habit. You chose a new one. Your therapist thought it was a good idea, to put distance between you and the thing they created. There were no files, no identification, no ties to anyone or anything, though. As far as they could find, you had always been Angel. Your identity not only stripped, it has been decimated. It’s as if you already belonged to them even before you got there. My angel, Zola would say, his tone affectionate, his mannerisms disturbing. The Angel, Zemo would bask in awe. You were real after all. You were still getting used to the one you gave yourself. Two, maybe three seconds before you recognized someone was trying to get your attention. All those years, it was hard to break. You’d like to think your mother would have laughed: her child? This child? An angel? You were cynical. Masochistic. Ruthless. You killed some of the most important people on the planet and you did it well. If nothing else, there was a sense of pride, a sense of duty, completion. You did so quietly, silently, and when you were done, eye-witnesses swore they truly saw an angel. How fitting. 

Святой. Иголка. Собака. Покайтесь. Музыка. Шрам. Более легкий. Девятнадцать. Бог. Ангел. Your hand is wrapped around his throat. Sam and Bucky are at your sides, trying to deescalate the situation. He watches you knowingly, expectantly. He wanted this to happen. It would be so easy. Can’t they see? Can’t they understand? Slip back into place. Disappear, go into hiding, and live as you did. You weren’t just good, you were excellent. You could crush his windpipe without a second thought. But Bucky, cautiously, places his hand on your arm. If you meet his eyes, you will have to let go. You will back away. You will become a dog again, beaten and abused, forced to obey. He can see it in your features. He knows what this would mean. But he is a changed person, a desperate person who needs Zemo. So you do. I see you are still following orders. Too scared to kill me? His voice comes out strained, choking, but he is remains arrogant. If I wanted to, I would have already. You spit, slamming the door behind you.

[vivispec]

For Marion & Garrett! "alright, who am i beating up?" from platonic prompts! Happy writing! 🥰

thank you for the prompt! writing kids is so much fun, especially these ones. snot-nosed twins be upon ye.

takes place pre-game before they move to lothering, when their magic is still pretty new.

@dadrunkwriting Marian & Garrett words: 707 cw: bullying

At that moment, Marian was none too happy with her brother.  She kicked a rock from out of her way as she ventured from home, just past the forked birch that marked the pathway to their doorstep, and watched it skitter across the dirt before it bounced into the grass. Having not returned by suppertime, their parents had deigned to send her after her wayward twin—her, of all people, when she’d been so careful to return before sunset, and without so much as a roll to tide her over. Her stomach growled. The scowl twisting her face, she imagined, would be absolutely terrifying, once Garrett laid eyes upon it. Soon, he would know her wrath. Luck appeared to pity her somewhat, at the very least. Just over the rise she caught sight of him, a slow-moving but recognizable silhouette against a sky going dark, and her pace quickened to meet him as she attempted to soothe her prickling irritation at his unhurried pace. I can badger him all I want, once I’ve dragged him back home and filled my belly, she reminded herself. At least it seems he made some effort to be home before nightfall—or by, more like.  “Honestly, Garrett,” she lifted her hands to cup her mouth, shouting down the path to her brother, “are you trying to starve me? You promised me you’d be home before—” As the light caught up with him her words and anger faltered, and her feet skid to a stop. His fists were balled and white, chubby face flushed and tense, and his eyes… There were tears, though he tried to hide it with a swipe of his sleeve. Tinged red, just as his swollen cheek was. She needn’t see the rest of him, to know what it was that had happened. “Who was it?” Marian’s teeth clenched, and she felt her own face grow unbearably hot, her own fingers ball. “Who did this to you?” “I just want to go home, Mari.” “Tell me first,” she argued, burning now with anger, “and I’ll beat their bloody arses, I will. I’ll—I’ll—” “Marian!” The urgency of his tone was enough to stall her, and her sight cleared enough to catch the flickering light across his face. He sighed, terse. “You’re on fire again, sister.”  She looked at her hands to find them, sure enough, wrapped by flames. There was momentary panic as again her magic manifested outside her control, quickly swallowing breaths just as Papa had taught until, slowly, they ebbed and dispersed. It was enough to rein her mind back in, to distance herself from that anger. Garrett had crossed his arms by the time she was finished, and looked away into the fields beyond their home. “Who was it?” “The Gower boys,” he mumbled, looking down. “Why didn’t you fight back? They’re wusses.” “‘Cause Dad says we have to be extra careful, now, or else we might…” his eyes strayed back her way, gesturing limply at her scorched shirt sleeves. “You know.” Her cheeks were warm again, but not from anger this time. “We have to be careful, or Papa might get in trouble,” she repeated, mostly to herself. “I know.”  It was true, she knew it, but it wasn’t fair. Why did they get to hurt Garrett, and she couldn’t hurt them back? Already the hit he’d taken had swelled: it would make one nasty shiner, it would. And speaking of Garrett, he looked so bloody bothered by it all, and she didn’t like that one bit. Maybe she could help with that much, and what remained of her annoyance, too. “...But it would scare them right good, though, wouldn’t it? If you did. They’d deserve it, too, and run with their tails between their legs—” He snorted a laugh. She could see him trying to stop it, but still it got free. “...I bet their faces would scrunch up, too.” “Like this,” she added, and put on her best rendition. As his brow relaxed and he stopped fighting his giggles, she put on a smile of her own, and looped her arm in his. “Come on, then,” she coaxed, “Mum made stew and rolls, and I’m starving.” “Yeah,” he said with a sniff, and squeezed her arm back. “Me too.”

[suffering-is-cute]

you won't come back. i know, that's fine. inhale, exhale, breathe in the secondhand smoke that hasn't yet been drowned out by the rain.

if it's not one thing then it's another. find any excuse you have to use. i can watch you say it. you are valid to hate standing by me. i can still breathe in what's choking me. i am fine.

weary smile. heavy heart, but i click open the camera and pose with my hand around your shoulders anyway. my hand. why not my arm? my whole heart isn't in this. yes, i said pose.

heavy heart, but i flick open the umbrella's metal joints anyway with a practiced, casual ease. one moment folded, lips of the steel pressed into thin lines that squash the full height of the umbrella. the next, unfurled like an penned owl's wings as it takes off into misty mountains.

i wish I could follow it, but i'm resigned to the ground.

my sneakers are soaked through with damp and my socks chilled with muddy water. i wring the wet locks back from my shivering face. odd i hadn't noticed until the water got into my furiously blinking eyes, but i'm enraged, silently enraged in the water.

i know it's futile, i don't deserve such a thing, but i have so much wrath at this sudden downpour. today, why must there be water?

irrational. unseemly. my first reaction is shame, not shaking. i know to be embarrassed at weakness. all these times i have idolised the strong. i wanted to hide under my umbrella but mary poppins doesn't hide, so why should I? neither shall i.

you're not coming back to me. you never will. not the same you. i speak heavy things in an attempt to crush my feet with the weighted slam of cinder blocks. i run myself over mercilessly with a land rover. i buy a gun and shoot it, unloading pellets into my chest. i tell myself not to move but broken and bruised there my feet go again.

it's not like i don't know how this will end up. the bones of my feet visible. the shoulders of my overcoat drenched. my hair flinging water into my face with every slight movement.

it's not like i don't know how this will happen. how everything will play out. i know, darling, i know. but a hit-and-run couldn't stop me, the ashes and cinders will infuriate but cannot induce defeat in me, the gun will shoot only where bullets have already hit.

I: have always been walking around with carefully concealed bullet holes in my chest.

my heart keeps beating, traitorous thing. let me steal a kiss from you, at least, a ring maybe, a line of verse. some keepsake, any keepsake -

magpie that i am i have a vision of a nest full of stories to tell.

storage. if i could be packed away in bubble wrap and shipped overseas on a conveyor belt, would anyone come to pick me up? claim me because i look interesting? i'd be disposed of as a possible danger, a tick-tock time bomb.

bibbity, bobbity, boo! cinderella explodes at midnight when the clock strikes twelve.

you won't come back. in this story, the prince loses the glass slipper when he gets drunk and he never thinks of cinders again except when he's hiccuping. she heaves a sigh and gets back to work scrubbing the stairs. never expected anything else. at least she's full tonight.

[whitegoldtower]

New Skyrim Oc:

Big tiefling coded man, dubbed “Son of Coldharbour”, “Angel of Vengeance”, “The Bloody Guardian”

He’s a spawn of Molag Bal, cast out of Coldharbour for aiding the souls trapped there, including Mannimarco. Incites the wrath of Molag, who throws him out of Oblivion and spits him out into Mundus to shame him. He helps vulnerable people, but also has an insatiable bloodlust, which results in him being revered as a monster.

Vampires trapped by oppressive lords and sires are his followers, invoking his name when in danger. He also seeks to cure the vampires or at the very least liberate them and thus weaken and undermine Molag’s grip on the world, because at the end of the day, ol’ Molag is no.1 on his shit list.

He seeks to dominate the prince of domination. Being a spawn of Molag, he has all of Molag’s powers, just needs to hone them and train them.

He is fuelled by wrath and fury, and what seems like hatred is merely jilted love. In a strange way, he loves his creator. Loves him enough to pulverise him.

He’s fuelled by every single one of the deadly sins, but uses them for ‘good’. He operates in a v similar way to the “dark urge” from BG3 in that if he doesn’t catch himself when he has less than savoury thoughts, he WILL act upon them and commit war crimes due to being Molag’s spawn.

As far as his personality goes, he’s VERY intense. He doesn’t even look peaceful when he’s asleep, always tossing and turning, grinding his teeth. He’s consistently angry, but tries his damn hardest to be kind to people. He will jump to your defence, is the sort of person to stand in front of a loaded crossbow and say “shoot, if you’ve got the guts”. His libido is always through the roof, though he mainly tempers it himself or rolls around in the Riften brothels every so often (the girlies and gays know him on a first name basis - he supports sex workers and always pays more than he’s asked). He’s indulgent, likes the finer things in life, enjoys compliments. Despite his greed, he’s charitable. And if you’re good to him, he’s very good to you. He’s vain, but also encourages vanity in those he thinks deserve to be a little more vain (i.e, women who have been treated like shit all their lives, farmhands, outcasts, people who have been told that they are ‘ugly’, and underdogs).

For his love of people and things that aren’t considered typically “beautiful”, Namira is a rather big fan. Namira wants a piece of him.

He also likes to see how quickly people will label others as ‘monsters’ and that plays a big role in who gains his favour. Such as the cannibal who only ate because he was starving. The forsworn who butchered his tribe because of the horrors they put him through. The necromancer who desecrated holy grounds because he just wanted to revive his lover. The vampire who slaughtered an entire village because they stood idly by and did nothing as his lover was burnt at the stake, y’know.

And this idea was all conjured up by listening to the slowed reverbed version of Bloody Mary LMAO DONT @ ME

[adickaboutspoons]

book emoji! (sorry i'm on desktop) (also sorry for stalking your inbox today haha hope you're well, have a lovely weekend! <3)

Technically a WIP since I have about 3.5K words written about it already, but it's been sitting there for... a while now. This is another banger from the Stede Bonnet Defense Squad late night collective storytelling files, so special thanks to @nicnacsnonsense and @poetic----nonsense for bouncing around ideas on this one with me. I'm just including my bits, though I should point out nicnac was the one to first suggest Ed & CJ as fuck buddies and Papa Bonnet's cost-benefit analysis of ransoming Stede factoring in the arrangements he's been brokering with Mary's parents behind Stede's back.

AU where Young Adult Ed meets Young Adult Stede (when Stede is down daydreaming at the docks) and decides to take him hostage and convince Hornigold to hold him for ransom. Ed is in charge of guarding the prisoner while Hornigold starts the process of negotiating. Stede is chatty in the brig. Wants to know all about the kinds of knots that have been used to tie him up, and how long Ed has been at sea and how he got his start and just all sorts of things. Ed is low-key annoyed to have been given this duty and kind of gruff about it, but kind of won over eventually by Stede's enthusiasm and also is shocked that Stede kind of doesn't WANT to go back to his cushy life. And by the way he gets all quiet and sad when Ed says that Hornigold's negotiating with his dad, because he's pretty sure his father would rather start from scratch trying to produce a new heir than bother trying to get Stede back.

And just when Ed and Stede are really starting to bond, CJ shows up, and Stede is like ugh. It's hate at first sight for the two of them, sniping and bickering and abuse and the hey-hey.

Ed & CJ are fuck buddies, and, CJ, consumate reader-of-rooms can see that Stede likes Ed, and worse, that Ed likes Stede. And that in spite of his best (worst) efforst, the two of them keep growing closer and closer.

Stede is asleep at first when CJ comes to seduce Ed. Part of CJ's wheedling is because Ed tries to say they can't "because of the prisoner" and CJ says that he's gonna have to learn about the birds and the bees soon anyway if he's gonna get married (because he knows that's a sore spot for Ed, who is aware of the negotiations enough to know that a big motivator for Papa Bonnet is that he's already started brokering Stede's arranged marriage). (CJ's extra loud and obnoxious about going to town on Ed, too, so Stede can't even block it out, even closing his eyes and covering his ears.) That's the first Stede hears about anything to do with him and marriage. Stede doesn't find out it's a done deal until Ed jealously brings up Mary when Stede is trying to talk to him about how he deserves better than CJ. And Stede is not only crushed that this is the only reason his father is bothering to negotiate for him, he also thinks Ed was purposely hiding it from him and that he and CJ have been laughing at him behind his back.

Eventually negotiations wrap and Stede is supposed to go back to his father. And Stede is trying to be all stoic and dutiful, but Ed hears him crying (and berating himself for crying) when he thinks that Ed is asleep. And Ed is rowing him back, and is all "what if I didn't row you back? What if I just keep rowing? What if we run away?"

And Stede wants to, more than anything, but CJ snuck down one time when Ed was relieved of duty, and "casually" mentioned how Ed is already on thin ice with Hornigold (he's not. he's actively being groomed to take captaincy of the next ship they capture), and Hornigold just needs the slightest provocation to kill Ed in some very exciting and creatively awful ways. And he doesn't want to be the cause of bringing Hornigold's wrath down on Ed's head. So he says no.

There's an exciting third act, but I'm not the one who came up with it, so I'll just leave it there.

[kathyprior4200]

Heavenly Boss: Pilot (updated)

Heaven was a marvelous paradise that sat proudly atop fluffy clouds of blue, orange, pink and white. It was located on a white planet surrounded by a large glowing halo like a planetary ring. It was located above Earth and Hell. The denizens of Heaven included God, His Archangels (Michael, Gabriel, Raphael, Uriel, etc.), Adina, Metatron, Jesus Christ, Mary, and many others. Lucifer used to live there until he was banished for disobeying God. The royal Seraphim Sisters, Sera and Emily, were in charge of Adam and his Exorcists, just under the Speaker of God. Although Heaven seemed like perfection, the elite angels were ignorant to the suffering demons in Hell. To them, the demons were diseased foreigners who didn’t deserve to go to Heaven. Humans weren’t much better…they had to meet near impossible standards of the Seven Virtues to go to Heaven. The majority of humanity was flawed in their eyes, only destined for doom, death, and destruction. In addition, white straight Christian men always got front row seats in terms of privilege.

Heaven and Hell each had different hierarchies parallel to each other, plus seven districts or levels, corresponding to the sins and virtues.

The seven Archdemons ruled the Seven Rings of Hell.

Lucifer, the fallen angel king of Hell, ruled the first Ring of Pride, the location of I.M.P. Headquarters, and the Hazbin Hotel. It was the only place where sinners could dwell. The sky was crimson red.

Satan, a red goat-like muscular bodybuilder, ruled the second Ring of Wrath. It was a desert under an orange sky where Millie and lots of rough and tough country imps lived.

Beelzebub, a party animal female with a fox/canine-like appearance ruled the third Gluttony Ring. Under a honey-colored sky, it was a place of parties, feasts, honey, and hellhounds.

Mammon, a giant green greedy jester, ruled the fourth Ring of Greed. Under a money-green sky, it wasthe location of the Loo-Loo Land theme park and many mafia crime-ridden hideouts.

Asmodeus a.k.a. ”Ozzie” ruled the fifth Ring of Lust. Three-headed Asmodeus provided sex products, shows and services to the denizens. It was a popular place for incubi and succubi to strip, dance and demonstrate their sexual prowess at clubs. The sky was dark blue and raining.

Leviathan, the sea serpent, ruled the sixth Ring of Envy. It wasthe location of underwater Mal-antis (Hell Alantis) and where the von Eldritch family may have come from. Under an indigo sky, suburban marine-demons lived in luxury.

Belphegor, a female drug addict, ruled the seventh Ring of Sloth. Under a pink sky, the denizens were often goats with candles on their heads, hooked on drugs and medicine. The St. Ann’s hospital was located there.

In contrast, the seven Archangels ruled the Seven Halos of Heaven. The skies corresponded to the colors of the Archangels. They were called the Virtues in contrast to the Archdemon Sins. Lordships were the counterparts of the Overlords.

The Humility Halo was the lowest, largest, and most populated Halo in Heaven, opposite of the Pride Ring. It was the Halo where a majority of the saints/former good humans lived in Holy City. In opposition to Sinners in Hell, the saints/former humans were often called “Winners.” The Born-Again Council of Lordships was Heaven’s equivalent of the Overlords and spirits were the currency instead of souls. Since human souls first had to go through purification and judgement for full admittance to Heaven, the Halo was closest to Earth and Hell. The sky was a light blue color, opposite of the red sky color in Hell’s Pride Ring. The Humility Halo had different sections called the Nine Spheres as opposed to Hell’s Nine Circles. The Heavenly Virtue ruler of this Halo was Archangel Michael, rival brother of the Sin king Lucifer, representing the Sun. In a separate section of Heaven, the Exorcists trained for their annual killing of demons. Former humans could traverse the Halos only with permission from the rulers. Like the Sinners, the Winners were immortal. Winners needed special permission to go to the other Halos. Archangel Metatron frequently worked with Michael to counter any outside threats imposed by the Ars Goetia, succubi, sinners, and other demon types. The Shem HaMephorash often kept watch on the Ars Goetia.

The Charity Halo, the second lowest Halo, was ruled by the messenger Archangel Gabriel. The sky was white, symbolizing purity as well as Gabriel’s luminary, the Moon. Gabriel was one of the more popular archangels and could travel to any Halo and any world with ease. He was the inventor of many communication technologies. Unlike Mammon, Gabriel displayed all the virtue traits and was very generous. His Woo-Hoo Land theme park was unique and had crystal structures and a water park added to it. Letting out his justice side, Gabriel had strong police forces and the city was clean, safe and one of the best in Heaven. Gabriel, like Mammon, was incredibly popular and powerful. Many denizens loved musicals and often entertained people with songs and hymns. Gabriel’s Truth-Telling-Trumpet Toys ™ remained a popular item throughout the Halos. Gabriel was often seen surrounded by elite angels blowing trumpets and carrying white lilies on branches. He is destined to blow his main trumpet on Judgement Day. This Halo was a popular luxurious vacation spot, and many royal angels went there.

The Chasity Halo was the third lowest Halo, opposite of the Lust Ring. The sky was light pink in color and the Heavenly Virtue was Archangel Camael, the stern but loving ruler of the Powers, representing the planet Mars. Camael was the opposite to Asmodeus on the Tree of Life. Denizens in this realm were forbidden to practice unmarried and casual sex, and to only be in married relationships to procreate. The sky was always sunny and bright. Camael oversaw a group of cherubs and angels sent to Earth to counter the effects of Asmodeus’ succubus demons tempting humans to sin on Earth.

The Diligence Halo was the fourth lowest Halo, opposite of the Sloth Ring. The sky was light green, and the Heavenly Virtue ruler was Archangel Raphael, representing the planet Mercury. Being a busy healer, Raphael kept a close eye to ensure that plague demons and drugs weren’t distributed to mortals on Earth. He oversaw the hospitals and medicines in Heaven. Raphael was the opposite of Belphegor in the Tree of Life. Hard-working beaver angels, bee angels and other beings lived there, focusing on good health in all aspects.

The Patience Halo was the fifth lowest Halo, ruled by Archangel Uriel, the Seraphim genderless angel of wisdom. It was the opposite of the Wrath Ring. The sky was light red. Uriel was stern, studious, meditative, and created the education systems. Uriel was revered as a guru figure, like Satan was revered in Hell. The Halo was full of peace, nature and tranquility as opposed to the orange sky, fiery violent culture in Wrath.

The Temperance Halo was ruled by Archangel Jophiel, representing the planet Venus. It was the opposite of the Gluttony Ring. The sky was yellow and the denizens there had no big parties or heaps of food. Many denizens were heavencats, heavenhounds, sea creatures and the like. Everything was done in balance and moderation. Sisters Haniel and Jophiel worked to spread love, beauty, creativity, and joy to the Halos.

The Kindness Halo was the highest Halo, opposite of the Envy Ring and ruled by the Archangel of mercy, Zadkiel. The sky was light purple, and the city was up in the clouds. Zadkiel’s violet flame had the power to redeem Sinners.

Other locations included the Empyrean where God’s throne was, the Panangelium building (opposite of the Pandemonium building), Cherub Towne, Holy City in the Humility Halo, Yeshua City, Elysian-Elysium, Summer-town, Deva City, Generosity in Charity, Aaru, Abstinence in Chasity, Seraph Central, among many others.

Currency: spirits (opposed to souls).

Divisions: Spheres (opposed to Circles).

Rulers: Virtues (opposed to Sins)

Former humans: Winners (opposed to Sinners)

Districts: Halos (opposed to Rings)

Powerful figures: Lordships (opposed to Overlords.)

Phone apps/Technology: Chastinder (Chasity), Gracebook (Facebook), Uriel Meditations, Gabriel-Messenger, Good News Channel, Metatronics (Metatron), MichaelSecurity, YHWH +, Prime Nine, Rap-heal-Care (Rapheal), JophiArt (Jophiel)

Radios: “Michael’s Music,” “Station 777,” “Heavenly Tunes,” “God’s Covenant Choir” “Evangelical Harmonies,” “Patience’s #1 Church Hits.”

Food and drink: Holy Spirit, Holy Water, Cloud Nine Wine (100 CE), Pharoh Platter, Angel Hair Pasta, Angel Food Cake, Elysian Elixir, Ambrosia Delight, Ichthys Elixir, Eden Extract, Holy Cow, Lotus Juice, Green Sensu Beans, Apple Pie of Life, Garden of Eden Salad, Iced Holy Water, Jesus Bread and Wine, Crystal Concoction (Atlantis)

Heaven consisted of the ethereal alien-like Heavenborn angels and the animal-like Winners (mortal souls gone to Heaven, opposite of Sinners). Both the Heavenborn and Hellborn were of higher class than the former humans. Like in Hell, everyone could transform into higher forms at will. God, Michael, and Lucifer alike had inner circles of officials. Heaven had archangels but no Overlords, instead consisting of the Born-Again Council of Lordship Winners. Territory was shared but Winners most often resided in Holy City in the Halo of Humility. They were free to have children, pursue jobs and be themselves within limits. They could even transverse Halos with permission. The Exorcist weapons could kill demons but not angels unless they were supercharged. Like Hell, Heaven also had mythological creatures that resided. Cherubs, little angels that looked like bees, deer, and sheep, helped save human lives and blessed them with love. They resided in the cloudy Cherub Towne.

Holy City was the main capital of Heaven like Pentagram City in Hell. The Pride Ring was divided into nine Circles and the Humility Halo was divided into nine Spheres. Shining buildings of gold, silver, marble, and other materials glinted in the sunlight. At night, the sky was filled with brilliant bright stars and the glowing teal blue Christian Cross hovering over Holy City. The Exorcists, brainwashed angels fitted with body-fitting vulture-like suits, would be busy training in a lower part of Heaven, separate from the rest of society like the military. The denizens of Heaven were both humanoid and had animal-like traits. They were often sheep, dogs, cats, doves, swans, and other sacred animals (much like the bi-pedal individuals in Zoophobia). The lesser human/animal denizens had physical features of gems, harps, trumpets, wheels, chalices, and other holy instruments. They could take on many-eyed Biblical angelic forms, forms that were ethereal and not human-like at all.  

0 0 0

Not too far away from Cherub Towne in the second sphere lay a beautiful area within the clouds of Heaven. A floating white sign read “Welcome to Elf City: est. 1981.”  The sky was blue and the buildings and streets immaculate. The elves were considered to be of a lower class, acting in service roles like the cherubs. Do-gooders (humans who died and went to Heaven) were slightly above them, while the Heaven-Born Angels were considered the upper class.

Elves of various colors and sizes were chatting among themselves, while others walked around with their families. Many of them were hard at work: wrapping presents for Christmas, saving food to give to the homeless, cleaning a nearby park, and caring for the ill. Some of them liked to volunteer just for something to do. Some elves went around saving people’s lives, spreading love, or healing their wounds.

The most well-known miracle bestowing company was located in a tall white office building surrounded by a golden halo of clouds. The building was decorated with golden wing structures arching off to the sides. The double doors had harp designs on them. Posted on a door were the words “E.L.F. Headquarters” and on a taped piece of paper, “Meeting in progress” was scribbled on it.

On a white board was a line graph and a bar graph, the line slowly moving downwards from a blue happy face with a halo to a red sad face. “Docile loves you, by Docile” was written off to the side. A white Christian Cross was drawn in the center of the wooden table surrounded by black leather chairs.

Up front, a black, white, and dark teal colored elf paced back and forth. He had large pointed dark teal ears that jutted off between the sides and top of his bald head. He had large eyes of light blue irises, white pupils, and blue sclera. The left portion of his face was black, and the right side of his face was dark teal. He wore a long white business suit with light blue buttons and purple circles on the sleeves with little white crosses in the centers. White boots with blue outlines covered his feet while white fingerless gloves covered his hands. A white heart-shaped mark lay on his forehead like a birthmark. A little green pin attached to his undershirt had a happy face on it. A white halo with little spikes on it hovered over his head. He also had white feathery wings folded behind him.

The elf was Docile, a serious asexual individual.

Docile looked toward his audience of two elves and a humanoid cat sitting in chairs around the table.

“All right, now I know business has been…a bit stressful lately. We’ve had to keep up demands and during the rush, not everyone can be saved.” He pointed toward the graph. “It seems that more and more people aren’t counting on miracles from angels and God to help themselves feel better. I don’t know how our company will fare if this keeps sloping down. Now it’s no one’s fault, okay? I just think that some of us could…benefit from improving their attitude…like Tirred.”

Tirred raised his eyebrows. The elf had a dark teal face, dark blue eyes, and black hair framing his face on the sides. Black freckles were present under his eyes. He also had white wings and a white spiked halo that hovered above his head. He wore a light blue bow tie and a white business suit similar to Docile’s. Tirred was often grumpy and well…tired, but he took his job as a healer seriously.

Docile continued. “Now does anyone have any bright ideas on how we can get business drumming up again?”

The woman elf, Timmid had short white hair with a black flower spot on it and displayed a row of sharp white teeth. She wore white gloves and a white blouse over a long white skirt. Her eyelashes extended past her face. Like the others, she had a dark teal face, pointed elf ears, dark blue eyes, white wings, and a white wiry halo over her head. Timmid was often timid and was the negotiator between humans and elves. Tirred and Timmid were an on-again-off-again couple and were from the Halo of Patience in Heaven.

Timmid thought for a moment and spoke softly, “What…about…a billboard?”

“That’s a thought, Timmid, but there are advertisements everywhere in Heaven,” Docile mentioned. Then his eyes brightened, and he waved his hands. “Oh. How about a car wash?”

Timmid spoke up. “Um, this is Heaven, sir. Cars are already clean here.”

“Good point,” Docile said. “Any other ideas?”

“We can’t just stick to what we’ve been doing before?” Tirred asked with a yawn, adjusting his large bow tie. “Why not just prove those people wrong?”

“So helpful, Tirred, really glad you’re in the room right now,” Docile spoke fast, rolling his eyes. “Have you guys forgotten what service we provide?”

Docile turned on the TV and a series of clips showed up on screen: Docile bandaging an angel’s wings, Tirred helping a man walk, Sunna, the cat purring at a crying girl, Timmid saving someone using CPR.

Docile held a bowl of popcorn for everyone to eat. Sunna, the brown furred, black striped cat, wore a white sun dress with a sun on it. She wore a gold cross necklace around her neck. Her mane of hair was lion-like, almost like a hipster’s hairdo. She was purring contently while sniffing the last leaf of catnip she brought. Her eyes were sky blue and large. A nearby poster showed Docile and his bald elf sister Holly Wata with an award for being the best performers in a choir. A banner read “The Holy Elf Duo” above them.

“Ah, those were the good times,” Docile smiled.

Timmid ate a piece of popcorn on the table, lost in thought.

Timmid sighed. “Yes indeed,” she said to Docile. “But Tirred seems upset about some of your mistakes.”

“Don’t need any reminding, sir,” Tirred grumbled to his boss, “considering you blew most of our salaries to help a rival pharmaceutical company with their advertisement, one that you additionally paid to have us hold their hands and sing for three whole weeks on a channel, everybody watches!”

“Hey, uh excuse me?” Docile looked back, insulted. He stood up. “What’s so “obnoxious” about generosity and a super fun song, alright? It’s a fun distraction when an advertisement’s spitting lies.” He walked across the room.

“People love musicals, sir,” added Timmid with a small smile.

“Exactly, Timmid,” Docile smiled, “and we’re basically doing a musical.” Docile did jazz hands before turning to Tirred. “Are you gonna criticize my musical theater dreams like my dad did?”

“Sir…” Tirred began, but Docile cut him off.

“Because all I see right now is my dad and his angry eyes glaring at me, criticizing my dreams of being who I truly am inside.” He turned his head away.

Timmid leaned in toward Tirred. “Please don’t make him angry, Tirred,” she begged.

“I’m just stating how it is,” Tirred replied, arms folded.

“I thought I knew you,” Timmid said, making a face at him. “No need to be a grumpy pants, dear.” Tirred rolled his eyes in response.

Docile turned back to Tirred, tears in his eyes. “I can’t believe you, Tirred. And after I made you Employee of the Month.” He held up a picture of Tirred with a large grin of sharp teeth.

Tirred threw up his hands. “Okay, sir! I’m sorry, but a commercial jingle and a cheesy song are not comparable to musical theater. Nobody actually likes the jingles.”

“But…I liked it!” Timmid popped up.

Tirred turned to her, arms crossed. “Yeah, sure, take his side, why don’t you?”

0 0 0

In a commercial, Docile spoke in front of purple curtains. “Hi, I’m Docile, the “e” is silent and I’m the founder of E.L.F.”  On an icon, Docile leaned against the L in the logo, with figures of Timmid and Tirred posing on either side with their hands in prayer. The E.L.F. logo appeared over his hand. Docile continued, “Are you a ray of light that got yourself sent to Heaven?” The picture showed Docile dressed in a superhero outfit with a red cape. “Or are you a conflicted convict who just happened to have your life cut short by someone else?” The next picture showed Docile dressed in a red devil costume choosing whether or not to quit smoking and drugs.

A nearby sign read the angel’s name that hired E.L.F. A winged angel carrying a lamb baby with a male lion’s head spoke with a 333 News billboard in the background, “After defending myself against my psycho brother and preaching about God, you could imagine my surprise when I wound up here, after the coronavirus killed me. I really wish I could help my sick grieving sister and advise my family to kick my brother out.”

Docile continued, standing in a church with Timmid and Tirred in white robes nearby.

“Well, luckily for you, thanks to our company’s special access to the living world, we can help you take care of your unfinished business by blessing anyone who may have helped you out when you were alive!” Docile happily climbed up a flight of golden stairs.

Then the jingle began:

“When your loved one has to die

Does it hurt to say goodbye?

Do you wish they were alive?

So you could watch them thrive?”

“Through the grief and deceased

We can bring you peace

When you feel alone

Know they’re safe at home”

“When you want somebody blessed

And you don’t wanna get all stressed

Call the Efficient Lifesaving Fellows!”

 “Whether First Aid or CPR

We’ll make sure you all go far

Efficient Lifesaving Fellows!”

“We do our job so fine

‘Cause we come straight from Cloud Nine!”

“When you’re consumed by grief

We help you find relief

Miracles beyond your belief!”

“We’ll save your husband or your wife

We’ll even help extend your life

The Efficient Lifesaving Fellows!”

“Pets and children live for freeee!”

At the bottom it read: “This company is not to be confused with C.H.E.R.U.B. in the canon parallel Heaven dimension next door. Although nobody really knows too much about E.L.F., it was founded way before C.H.E.R.U.B. in question. Mary had some little lambs and overstayed her welcome.”

Various clips showed E.L.F. saving people: lifting a boulder from a human, comforting a crying human after a car accident, passing out Bibles and food to the homeless, giving money to a school in Africa, humans, and angels dancing in a circle…

A brown-haired woman stole a guy’s wallet and kicked him in the groin. She ran off and then got shot by police. Yet she only went unconscious. The doctors took her to the emergency room while the elves waited. A doctor walked in on the elves in the waiting room.

“She’s in stable condition, but she’ll need rest and an arrest warrant. Now what kind of insurance do you freaks have?”

“God’s chosen don’t need insurance,” Tirred stated coldly. Docile glared at him.

The elves and the woman were promptly kicked out of the hospital and sent back to Heaven.

0 0 0

Back at the office, Tirred spoke up, hands in front of him. “I’d like to go on record and say that incident was Sunna’s fault. Dispatch is supposed to give the right info on the client. It’s a very simple process.”

“I’m sorry, Tirred, I did the best I could,” Sunna said, unfazed.

Tirred fumed. “ ‘Sorry’ doesn’t cover it…do your job!”

“Hey, now we don’t blame screw-ups on Sunna, okay?” Docile said. “She didn’t do anything wrong.” Sunna happily walked over and embraced Docile in a tight hug, Docile straining to break free.

“Are you kidding me, sir? She’s awful!”

0 0 0

Sunna thought back to the time when she was a receptionist at a desk. The old rotary phone rang, sounding like cats meowing. She picked up the fish-shaped phone.

“Thank you for calling E.L.F. How may we bless you?” Sunna asked, smiling.

Timmid was on the other end, concern in her voice. “There’s a customer ranting about Satan. He wants to commit suicide…”

“Tell him that suicide will not make things better.”

“He wants to rant and curse you; it will be the end of our company for sure!”

Then Tirred added in a harsh voice next to Timmid: “She’s right. We’re all doomed if we don’t enforce harsh discipline on that scum of a…”

“Just got a call on the other line, apologies, worry warts.” Sunna trilled, hanging up the phone. She read her Fancy Feast Feline magazine.

0 0 0

Another memory came back to Sunna, which took place at her house.

“Happy Adoption Anniversary, Sunny,” said Docile. “I got a little something for you.” He showed her a gift in his hands.

Sunna smiled. “Is it a cure for Covid?”

“I…uh…”

“Then I want it!” she exclaimed happily, tearing open the gift and dropping it on the floor. A flock of white butterflies flew around the room and landed all over her.

“I’m sorry, it was butterflies!” Docile looked on in concern. But Sunna happily batted and played with them, her mouth open in a grin.  “God bless you…”

0 0 0

There was one other time when Sunna watched Princess Coercia singing/screaming “Inside of Every Angel is a Sinner.” She was in her full Angel form, with black feathery wings and a black spiked halo. Tirred walked over, holding a piece of paper in his hands that read “Moxie 4 U.” His black eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Excuse me um, did you just fax me an ad for weight loss and muscle growth?”

“Yes,” Sunna replied.

“Is it because I’m so handsome already? Better than many of the wimps around here?”

“Come on,” Sunna teased. “Just the opposite.”

0 0 0

Later, Sunna rummaged around, looking for something in the kitchen.

“Who left this tuna salad in the fridge?”

“Wasn’t me,” said Timmid. “It was there from yesterday.”

“Is this yours, Tirred?”

No answer.

“Well, I’m taking it because I have the best feeling right now.”

She closed the door and gulped down the food.

“Now why would you get hyper on a workday?” Timmid asked, nearby.

“I’m happy from this morning, Timmy Tim,” she giggled.

“Don’t call me that,” Timmid said. “I’m not a guy.”

Tirred walked inside. “Isn’t that my lunch? You stole it, you crazy cat!”

“I’m so sorry!” Sunna said, then brightened. “You know what? I’ll just go get you another one before work! Time to enjoy my tenth life!”

Sunna raced outside with a “Wheeee!” and helped an elderly elf cross the street.

0 0 0

“Docile!” Sunna called in the office, “Your privileged authoritarian’s on the phone! Says it’s urgent and wants to talk to you. Sounds a little DTP-y.” (Down to Punish)

“Oh Lord that was one time!” Docile yelled, splashing water on himself in front of Tirred. “We wouldn’t have access to the living world if I hadn’t let myself get punished by that privileged jerk face.”

“You what?” Tirred asked, concerned.

“I stole a Bible after getting whipped for the sins I did. Figured I had nothing else to lose.”

“Docile!” Sunna cried.

“I heard you already!” Docile yelled before stomping into his office to play with bobble heads of himself, Timmid and Tirred.

“So… what can I do you for, Samael?” Docile asked nervously on his cell phone in his office. Inside his office were circus posters and advertisements for church gatherings and “Docile in Choir of Light: one time only!”

The Angel of Divine Retribution lounged in his palace on a golden sofa. He was dressed in a royal red robe, had white skin and golden short hair. His eyes were golden. On the walls were pictures of him wielding a flaming sword and casting demons into fiery lakes below. Several medals of Honor were attached to his clothing. His wings were fiery colors, starting with red orange at the top going to a white-blue at the feathery tips.

Samael was a companion to Azrael, the dark-haired Angel of Death. Samael and Adina were generals to the Exterminators/Exorcists who killed demons once every year in Hell. The founders of the Exorcists were God and the merciless Zoophobia angel Adina. Both Samael and Adina loved to punish demons, the former using physical torture and the latter using their deepest psychological fears.

 “There’s a politician who’s causing lots of trouble on Earth for a few of my associates. He wants to convince people that the coronavirus isn’t dangerous.”

“Isn’t it?” Docile asked.

“Well, it is, and more people die when no extra precautions are taken. And it gets crowded here.” Samael sighed, his hand on his chin.

“Well, that makes sense.”

“You know what happens when I’m stressed, Docy?”

“Oh lord no…” Docile began, flinched away from his phone.

Samael’s hair and wings ignited the more he talked.

“When I’m stressed, I become angry. And when I become angry, I have to whip your back and **** strike your **** with a flaming sword, cast you into a windy dessert, freeze you into ice in the lowest level, make you swim in the lake of fire for 1 million ******hours, hang you on a wooden cross for sins you didn’t commit and leave you begging for His mercy ******* like an imperfect mortal!”

Docile hung up the phone, with a look of fear, broke it in half and tossed the pieces to Sunna. “Here play with these.”

Sunna patted the pieces with her paws in fascination. 

 “And you know after you put them in your mouth?”

“Yeah?” she asked, eating them.

“Vomit it off a bridge.”

“Ew, no!”

0 0 0

Back at the meeting, Docile continued, “Look, the point is, Sunna is a valued member of our family, and we don’t get rid of families.”

“We aren’t a family, sir,” Tirred pointed out. “You are the boss. We are the employees. You treat her like she’s some hyperactive teenager. She’s more like a catnip addicted spoiled woman you let man the phones.”

Sunna hissed at him.

“That is offensive,” Docile said. “Without spoiled people, I wouldn’t have half the joy and laughter I do in this life.” Docile opened the blinds and saw an angel dressed in a golden suit getting his picture taken by a crowd of people. Docile waved at a lovely white-haired, teal-faced elf woman wearing a white dress with little white feathery wings on them before closing the blinds.

Tirred crossed his arms and did air quotes with his fingers. “While we’re on the subject of ‘family,’ can you stop finding Timmid and me outside of work?”

“Come on, it’s not that big a deal,” Timmid said.

Tirred’s eyes grew wide. “Excuse me…what?!”

0 0 0

Tirred remembered cooking at their house.

“Hey Timmie, could you grab me some lemons?” he called.

“Sure, sweetie,” Timmid said, grabbing a few lemons and heading to the table.

Docile suddenly appeared from the ceiling, landing gracefully in front of the woman elf. “When life gives you lemons…”

He squashed a lemon, letting the juice fall into a glass. “…the best aide is lemonade.”

Timmid giggled, her smile matching her short white hair.

“What’s so funny, Timmie?” Tirred asked his girlfriend.

“The impressive wordplay,” Docile said, serving angel’s food cake on the table. (Devil’s food cake wasn’t allowed.)

“What the…where did you even come from?!” Tirred asked Docile in shock.

0 0 0

In their bedroom in their luxury sapphire-walled apartment (a sign above read, “Need a heaven-cat?”) Tirred was woken up by Docile praying for good luck for him.

“What’re you dreaming about?” he asked.

Tirred moaned, “I was dreaming of me lording over my coworkers and...I’d like to get back to that.”

0 0 0

Timmid and Tirred remembered the song they sang, while Timmid played on an angelic guitar shaped like a swan:

“Of all the perfect elves,

It’s with him, I’m myself

Oh Timmid.”

They noticed Docile glancing off to the side and Timmid told him, “Film us already!”

“Are you bucking serious?” Tirred roared in anger.

0 0 0

Back in the present, Tirred seethed. “Just. Stop. Doing that.”

“I don’t see what the issue is,” Docile said. “Just love good classic romance, future holy matrimony…and the honeymoon bonus scenes. Timmid wanted me to, anyway.”

Sunna rolled her eyes, while Tirred fumed.

“Sir, what you say and how you act is totally inappropriate!” Tirred stood up.

“Calm down, Tir,” Timmid said, pulling him back down. “You’re gonna have another panic attack.”

“I am calm!” Tirred yelled before Timmid rubbed his black head. “Shh there, there,” she said, while Tirred whimpered.

Docile spoke again. “Look I don’t judge what you do outside of working hours, so don’t judge me.”

Veins popped out of Tirred’s eyes. “Oh, I do judge you, sir. Quite a lot, actually.”

He crossed his arms while Timmid gasped in fear.

“Tir, he’s our boss!”

“No, it’s fine, Timmid,” Docile mentioned. “Your boyfriend is just…how do I say this without being offensive…bossy.”

“Does overly criticizing me make you feel better about your sad single life?” Tirred asked.

“Not really, but it’s still fun,” Docile admitted.

Sunna added to Tirred, “Even though you can be a grump sometimes, I still appreciate your company.”

“P-Please don’t call him a grump, pussy cat!” Timmid protested. “You know I don’t like him when he gets mad…”

“Do not criticize my assistant that way,” Docile said. “She’s sensitive.”

“Yes I am,” meowed Sunna.

 “You guys are all freaking weird!”

Everyone turned to look. A pale spirit of a brown-haired teen girl floated nearby, wearing a prisoner uniform.

“Oh, uh…thank you, kid,” said Docile. “It’s something for you to witness this.”

“Ugh, this company’s such a mess,” Tirred exclaimed. “All that paperwork is bad enough without you guys being a pain in my…”

“Alright, let’s get back to talking about our friendship!” Docile said out of nowhere.

“Nobody was talking about that,” Sunna mentioned.

“Which is why I’m trying to get that ball rolling, so, I think we’re off to a great start, right?”

The spirit pointed her finger at Docile, “It was heaven being able to rest after being shot by police for mugging a guy, but now…I miss my family. I want life!”

“You,” she said pointing to Docile, “I don’t know who you are, but you look like one of Santa’s helpers, if Santa were God. No offence.”

Docile held in laughter. “None taken, miss.”

The spirit added to Tirred, “I see you’re a handsome fellow. If I were to feel comfortable, I’d look you in the eye and ask, ‘How in the world did I get here?’ so…how in the world did I get here?”

“You died,” he deadpanned. The spirit looked taken aback.

“That’s my boyfriend you’re talking to,” Timmid said, apologetic.

“Oh? He’s your boyfriend?” the spirit chuckled. “I figured him for an athlete, but I didn’t know he’d get even luckier.”

Timmid giggled in response.

 And you.” The spirit pointed at Sunna.

“Yeah, what about me?” Sunna asked.

“You’re just purrfect. I was never a dog person.”

Sunna purred.

“Wow you really are an amazing ray of sunshine,” Docile said.

Tirred rolled his eyes. “Such a flirt trying to make herself innocent.”

Sunna spoke up. “Hey guys, I just got a text from our client, says she’s the right one to bless after all.”

“Who?” Docile asked.

“Her.”

“Me?” asked the spirit.

“Yep.”

“They wanted us to help an actual convict?” Docile asked.

“That’s what they’re saying.”

Docile frowned. “Well Satan in a heater, I guess there is a Devil.”

He pointed a golden rod at her, and she was transported to her other family members in Heaven.

Docile spoke about E.L.F.: “You know folks, with this company, I really wanted to prove that we’re capable of doing the same things anyone else can, like blessing people. So, from us here at the Efficient Lifesaving Fellows group, we promise to settle your unfinished business, or your money is…given to charity and you’re never getting it back and you can write us a bad review, but we’ll be oblivious to it because it’s Heaven and business is business no matter where you are.”

Everyone wrapped Docile in a hug, while he rolled his eyes. Then he said, “Even though the kid was a convict, she’s still a just a human...or was. It’s important that we’ve handled this going forward, respectfully.” Everyone smiled in the hug.

Back on Earth, Docile dropped a heartfelt message from the convict Ellie for the surviving family members to read. It was about how guilty she felt after stealing some money…she had been trying to feed a nearby homeless family she knew well. They wanted her back, but they were finally able to see her body and get a sense of closure. The family members looked up to see the elves looking down at them.

“You’re welcome!” Docile called with a wave before the portal closed. 

[mihrsuri]

top five favorite romantic moments you've written

Inej smiles at her friends who are her family, warm and full of love. Smiles at her husband, who has never possessed her or owned her - has never thought of their love that way - only as two hearts shared. 

(From this Grishaverse Fic)

“You would sit a throne beside Anne and I and the world would know that to harm a hair upon you would mean my wrath. A treasure in my court, in my bed, in my heart who gives more treasure yet in our children.”

(Essentially the entirety of this fic is me being a sap tbh)

Tommy, my dawn - Mary does not deserve your grace - she almost says - resting upon his chest. Because he is her dawn - the soft dawn of a perfect spring day touching the blooms of a garden of paradise.

(From this fic)

“You were so brave, my darling, my heart. So brave when you should never had to have been so - all your life you have been so brave. You can rest now, my sweetheart. Close your eyes and I will hold you.” He already has, of course. She knows that, somewhere in her heart but Anne has put it aside because her Thomas, her Thomas who has always taken care of her, of their children, of their husband and she wants to let him know that he can rest, that he can go with the the lord with love, that he is not failing her, that he never has.  “Go my raven and send my love to Henry - I know heaven will be there for you. You have given me a golden world sweetheart - our family, our joy - I will never regret any of it and I know I will see you again one day.”

(from this fic)

"I will never, never regret loving you Henry" Thomas says fiercely, urgently. "I would not trade this life or this end for any other in the world because I have lived it with you and with Anne. Do not mistake me," he says, not bothering to hide the tears in his eyes or the shaking in his voice, for they are beyond such things now "I am terrified almost beyond reason and I would do anything to escape this, to live, to grow old with you and our Anne, to see our children grow and hold our grandchildren"

Just the first part of this chapter in it’s entirety (I’m going to rewrite the fic this is from admittedly but I might keep this in in some form)

[sea-adhesiveness537]

humbly requesting that you tell me more about this mickey cult in your paracosm! >:0

I'm very glad you asked!

Tw: Religious imagery, mention of cults and abuse, and death

You see, the Walt Disney cult (called the Club by the cultists, and dubbed as the Waltian Cult by outsiders) is the main antagonistic organization of the Screen Universe's (name of the paracosm) main saga. Their leader is Mickey Mouse, he runs or leads the cult.

However, he didn't found or start the cult however. In fact, it was started by another Disney character.

You see, five years after Walt Disney's death, Doc, one of seven dwarves, gets a "vision" (which is actually just a dream) that the world will come to an end Revelations style. And the only way to save everyone is to have Mickey "reawaken Walt Disney from his slumber", Walt Disney saves those who trust in him and are within the religion, and will make a paradise for those who kept their faith in both him and his son.

And so, a small cult is born.

This so called prophecy fell into the ears of the Disney Folk and the some people even spread the word.

You could say that it gained a cult following, heh.

When the news finally reached to the castle, Doc tried to talk to the king in person about the prophecy and how Mickey is the chosen one. The first Mickey eldritch bearer back then doesn't believe in Doc's dream or prophecy. This angered the dwarf a lot. The chosen one!? Throwing away his duties and letting the world to rot from an impending death!? This won't do, this Mickey doesn't deserve to lead the Realm to a better world.

So Doc uses a member of the proto cult to assassinate the first Mickey Mouse with atonecen, the forever death juice, in his drink. Since then, Doc officially founds the cult as a big thing, and appoints himself as a mentor for the new Mickey replacements from here on.

Yes, if a Fictional perma dies despite their series being ongoing, they'll be replaced by another Fictional to play the character the previous actor played. This will be important.

Yeah, Doc also gone on a replacement spree against other characters within the castle if they don't comply or take his word just like the first Mickey. Only a few Disney characters from Mickey's show survived the replacement spree and stayed around as original actors playing the part.

Whenever a Mickey defies Doc and his indoctrination, or isn't deemed as good enough by Doc's, he'll be killed permanently shortly after and a replacement takes his place. This has gone on for a long time.

However, the 8th Mickey bearer somehow turned out different. He meets all the standards and expectations Doc had for him and follow his indoctrinations and everything. He survives Doc's wrath and abuse, but at the expense of being or becoming an abuser himself...

Despite the Waltian Cult being a huge, significant organisation, only a handful of members play a role in the story and they're all higher ups. And there are 2 people who are ex members who tried to get out but couldn't.

Here are the Cult MFs

Mickey VIII = The main villain of the paracosm and the leader of the cult. He's responsible for a lot of shit he started against most of the cast. The narcissist, genocidal, blood thirsty lunatic who takes too much pride in playing the hero. He believes that he's Walt's perfect son and that he can do no harm, but is actually none of those things. He's calculative and will do anything to get what he wants and achieve his goals, even though he's digging deeper into his delusions. While I confirmed that he has ASPD and Narcissistic Personality Disorder, I honestly don't know where his delusions and psychosis are coming from. He definitely doesn't have schizophrenia (serious).

Clarabelle II (I'm considering making her the 8th or 9th replacement though) = Goofy's girlfriend and Horace Horsecollar's ex. She's not what she seems. In other members' eyes, she's the incarnation, reincarnation, or avatar of the mythical Mary Sue (yes, I made up an urban legend that a flawless character just like that might possibly exist, but it's just a myth/folk lore told in their world). But in reality, she's a narcissistic asshole who has perfectionist issues and takes out her stress at her partner with a whip and/or her words. Unlike Mickey, Clarabelle thinks she's not perfect enough and that she must strive for such standards if she wants to be worthy for their kingdom of god. She's the last straw that made Horsecollar want to leave the cult.

Goofy = One of the survivors of the replacement spree, simply because he lived far from the cast when it happened. Clarabelle recruited him into their group not too long after Horace Horsecollar left. Before the recruitment, he was a medieval plumber of some sort (yeah, Disney Kingdom is a medieval English themed place. They're one of the least technologically advanced territories and are far behind other places in terms of tech). Now, he's the general and the person who does the dirty work for those who want to keep their hands clean. Though, while he isn't willing to do the work, he's forced to do it because otherwise, they will hurt him and he really doesn't want.

Donald III = A victim to the replacement spree. He assists Goofy whenever to go on missions and do the dirty work. At some point, he got experimented on with potions and can now replicate a Webling's abilities and stuff. A force to reckon with in the battle field.

Doc = The Founder of the Cult and the one who has the most control over it. Ironic enough, he doesn't have much power over government stuff as in he isn't the one who handles it. I'm planning a new story element or piece for him. He also doesn't show up as much in the main story line. He's one of those paras who have huge significance to the lore before the storyline, but doesn't have a lot of screen time when the main saga comes around.

There's Minnie and Daisy too, but I haven't put much thought about them

There are also other members too, but I'm only listing the high ranking ones.

[hocuspocus-revengeisawitch]

FIC COMPLETED!

Summary:

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. Billy Butcherson, unfaithful lover, finds himself on the receiving end of Winifred's gruesome wrath after she catches him cheating on her with her ditzy vixen sister Sarah. Consumed by raging jealousy and bitter disappointment, Winifred devises a punishment she deems befitting the crime. Nevertheless, while Billy is eventually allowed to meet his untimely demise, his dishonourable act of betrayal leaves Winifred deeply hurt, humiliated, and traumatized. When fate deals the sorely afflicted witch yet another devastating blow, she hot-headedly ventures further into ungodly darkness, summoning Satan himself.

My take at the fanon backstory of how Winifred and Billy became a couple in the first place, how the latter had the nerve to cheat on her and the way he is therefore accordingly punished, and how Winnie might have gotten her beloved boooooook.

Rating:

Explicit

Category:

F/M

Fandom:

Hocus Pocus (Movies)

Relationships:

Winifred Sanderson/Billy Butcherson

Sarah Sanderson/Billy Butcherson

Billy Butcherson/Winifred "Winnie" Sanderson

Characters:

Winifred Sanderson

Mary Sanderson

Sarah Sanderson

Billy Butcherson

Additional Tags:

Hurt/No Comfort

Trauma

Betrayal

Revenge is A Witch

Revenge is A Dish Best Served Cold

Very Dark Tenor

Depression

Not for the Faint of Heart

Tragedy

Fanon Backstory

Physical Mutilation (well-deserved)

Satanism

Booooook

Domestic Abuse

Language: English

Series: Part 2 of Sticks And Stones I'll Break Thy Bones And Shall Forever Curse Thee

Completed: Yes | Words: 7,321 | Chapters: 2/2 | Comments: 79 | Kudos: 140

[ngkiscool]

Harriet Dowling is the center of attention in this Weekly Spotlight, and she deserve all the love she can get.

This time rating is varied, and some stories has content warnings. Each Description includes rating, word count, other main characters and cw if there are any.

Fly to Me by @lurlur - rated G, 500 words, also featuring Warlock and Nanny. No summary.

Too Late by HopeCoppice - rated G, 500 words, also featuring Mary Hodges. Summary: Harriet Dowling returns to the Order of St Beryl, five years after Warlock's birth. She's too late, but perhaps somebody here can help her anyway...

My broken house behind me (and good things ahead) by minkhollow - rated G, 6.3K, also featuring Warlock and Thaddeus J. Dowling. cw - Dysfunctional marriage. Summary: In which the not-in-fact-Antichrist's legal mother takes her life back, and tries to figure out how to be a parent.

Nanny Ashtoreth and the Fall of Harriet Dowling by ModernWizard - rated G, 7.4K, also featuring Warlock, Thaddeus J. Dowling and Nanny. Summary: [In which Heck is 3 months old. Awwwwww, baby Hecklet!] Harriet Dowling, 28 and 3 months out from the birth of her kid, needs a miracle. Her husband dumped this whole child care thing on her, so, on top of dealing with the neverending demands of a new baby, she's also trying to hire a live-in child care provider. The four previous prospects have all quit, which is why sporadic Unitarian and lapsed Catholic Harriet is calling on people she doesn't believe in for some help. Heaven does not seem to be forthcoming with the aid. This weird woman all in black, who just sped up to Harriet's door in a hearse-like car, might be an option, though... In other words, the fall of Harriet Dowling was inevitable. Read on to find out why.

Mrs Dowling by JewelOfForest - rated T, 971 words, also featuring Thaddeus J. Dowling. Summary: How Harriet Dowling could not live up to expectations

Our Side Yule: Found Family by vampydoo - rated T, 494 words, also featuring Warlock and Gabriel. cw - brief mentions of neglect, past upset. Summary: Little fic for the Our Side Yule Prompt "Found Family". "The house was the same old house, but the cold and harsh memory of it all was burning away with the bright warmth of the new family he had. His mother and her fiancé only stoking the flames, growing them larger and encapsulating in a comforting way."

The Everybody Else Drabble Collection (chapter 22) by Snowfilly1 - rated T, 103 words. no summary.

Antichrist-mas Carol by the_moonmoth - rated T, 7.5K, also featuring Warlock, Adam, Thaddeus J. Dowling, Aziraphale and Crowley. Summary: “And this must be Adam.” His mom recovered first. “Warlock, honey, why don’t you take your things upstairs and give your friend the tour. He’s in the bluebell bedroom  ”Friend, Warlock thought. Different bedrooms. Of course.

Occultist's Wrath by FireChildSlytherin5 - rated M, 6K, also featuring Warlock, Thaddeus J. Dowling, Nanny and Crowley. cw - Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage, Forced Marriage, Dysfunctional Family. Summary: Harriet Dowling had enough of her life. It has taken her over a year to get everything ready; reconnecting her ancestor of her Grandmother who was a Satanic Nun. Restore her relationship with the Unholy Saints to call upon to help to curse her husband & aid her & Warlock’s life to leaving him. It was time to join her only friend, Nanny Ashtoreth.

Guardian Angel by PrincexZelda  - rated E, 3K, also featuring Gabriel. Summary: When Thaddeus Dowling decides to go back to America without Harriet, she decides to go to her favourite bar and pick up someone random to take back to her mansion.

Authors - if you wish that your Tumblr account will be tagged, instead of the AO3, please comment or DM me the handle. Thanks :)

Bonus - master list with all past recommendations!    

Thanks for reading, and remember - sharing is caring!

[cjbolan]

FINALLY finished Emily Windsnap and the Land of the Midnight Sun! It was SO GOOD!!! After the first 3 books in the series, I’d honestly rank this one as one of the best. This had all the things I loved from Book 1! Beautiful vivid imagery, building tension, perfectly timed comedy to break that tension, romance, and more.  So many firsts in this story...

*WARNING: SPOILERS*

Emily’s parents not part of this story for once. Honestly after everything they’d endured in the past 4 books, they deserve a break.

Political espionage.

Bad people staying bad people. Sadly not everyone can be redeemed.

Merpeople no longer having to hide themselves from humans. At least in Brightport.

Teenage relationships. Not just romance but actual relationships, both the fun side and messy side of them. Perfect follow-up to Books 3 and 4 which depicted Emily’s parents trying to navigate the ups and downs of maintaining a relationship

Friendly animals. Not trying to kill anyone this time, like the Kraken.

Neptune and Emily actually working together! As equals! Eventually. First the first time she’s unafraid of his wrath, and for the first time he doesn’t talk down to her. Neptune’s character development is one of the best things about this book, showing a much softer side to him. Turns out he’s also an animal lover.

Emily trusting Mr. Beeston! I know she was just starting to get there during Book 4, but this is the first time she actually thanks him and feels safe around. Now THAT is character development. This is what makes Mr. Beeston honestly one of my favorite characters, for this massive redemption arc which seems properly concluded after 5 books.

We actually SEE Mary Penelope’s past, not just hear about it this time like in the prior books. I swear when Mary and Millie were plotting to rescue Jake, I couldn’t help but imagine this scene from The Little Mermaid. Also this means Mary definitely told Millie about Jake, which raises so many questions -- did Millie know that Jake is a merman? What exactly did Mary tell Millie about Jake? Did Millie ever meet Jake? Would Jake have hidden his tail from her like he first did with Mary? Did Mr. Beeston then have to M-drug Millie too along with Mary? Did Beeston know that Millie knows about Jake? Did Millie just play dumb like Hamlet with Mr. Beeston for all those 12 years?

There’s also recurring themes from the first book. Again people lose then regain their memories. Again Emily has to convince stubborn people to not trust a certain person.

Also...FUCK Frozen 2 (2019) for clearly ripping off this book!!! I already had mixed feelings about that movie. I KNEW there was just something about it bothering me. But finishing this earlier, similar, and much better story, further cemented my dislike for the movie. Seriously it premiered 6 years after this book, there’s no way I could write off all the similarities as just coincidence.

6 Emily Windsnap books down, 3 more to go!