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[velaazuretail]

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[ratlinez]

[witchrealms]

(x)

[rotting-in-your-arms]

some lain banners i made

based on the psx cover art

free for use by anyone i don't care about credit

[gh0stlain]

My Ko-fi commissions have been updated! Pfp prices are lowered, and Minecraft/voxel skins are now available! Please consider checking it out if you are able :]

[atrickything]

note: maddie buckley-han

originally i was going to deviate from the season five canon (and noted that on the carrd) where maddie goes to boston because i was frustrated that she left chimney and didn't ask him for help again when she needed it, but i've rewatched the complete show a few times since then and i get it now, i can understand why she didn't, and so she's firmly canon now. i'm fine to gloss over that storyline if it's a trigger for anyone but that's the only reason i won't write it.

also they hyphenated so they both have the same last name as jee-yun now. (but i already have the tags and this works better for crossovers, etc, so that won't change)

[deepestnightcolor]

✩⁺₊✩☽⋆Kinkmas - 1st of December⋆☾✩⁺₊✩

ᴀ/ɴ: Hello and welcome to my very first Kinkmas event!~ The way it works is quite simple; until the 24th December you, my beloved, will have the opportunity to open a "door" on my profile and reveal the bachelor or bachelorette just waiting for your attention! We are already starting off today, so take a seat, open the door, see if it is for you!~

Disclaimer: Sometimes I will be using the term "Christmas" in my stories. However, I strictly mean the Winterstar event as used in the game, it was written for everyone in mind.

Please, enjoy your stay and thank you for your time and kindness! I'm excited to be spending some time with you all on my blog.

Also, we thank @sashiavi for making my banners all pretty. She be dolling me up.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Leah (SDV) x Fem!Reader

ᴡ��: 2351 words

ᴍᴅɴɪ ✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: waking you up, using a special toy on you, cunnilingus, kissing, praising.

Leah’s talent had always fascinated you, not necessarily because she had incredibly skilled fingers, but because of what she could see. A romantic walk through the forest often ended with her dragging back a piece of wood, or a rock, or maybe some kind of plant she had found while looking around, telling you that this object would be her next project. You had asked her once why she chose a particular piece of wood, and her only response had been: “What? You don’t see it?!” You had thought she was fucking around with you, but as she gradually began working away, you slowly began to realize she had seen something. She was carefully carving, cutting, sanding her way toward her vision every time. One morning you had woken up and the piece of wood she had dragged and pulled home the day before had been turned into a cow grazing away, and in hindsight, you saw it, too, the potential that had lain in some wood. However, no matter how hard you tried on your little walks, you never managed to see right away. No matter how often you looked at a stick, no matter how often you turned that rock – you would always end up passing the resources your girl would turn into the most beautiful pieces of art, skilfully crafted by her.

Until one day you were wandering through Cindersap forest, hand in hand, listening to the snow crunching under your boots. Winter had always been a slow season for you, and albeit the two of you couldn’t forage as much as you usually did, you still enjoyed your strolls. Suddenly, something caught your eye – a longer piece of wood, rather thick and broadening in the middle. You turned around to Leah, a glint in your eyes as you swayed the stick around in front of her. “I have a vision!” You called out, having Leah quirk her brow as she mustered your stick. “Yeah? I don’t. What is it?” “This kinda looks like a dick, doesn’t it?” You laughed, poking your girlfriend’s stomach gently. “Well…It kinda does,” she chuckled, taking the wood out of your hand, mustering it carefully. “Kinda does…”

You were wrapped up in the warmth of Leah’s blanket when you suddenly felt something cool trace up your leg. At first, the sensation barely poked at your consciousness, sleepy body letting your legs kick to be covered by the blanket again, but for some reason, the feeling stayed. And it crept up higher. You groaned and turned on your stomach, as if it would help you in any way, but whatever was scaring the warmth of your fluffy comforter away was persistent. Finally, your brain seemed to realize that the situation might be more than just some blankets sliding away, making you snap awake within seconds, arms extending to push yourself upward. “That’s how long you need to wake up, huh?” A voice asked, all smooth and silky, coming from between your legs. “Leah! You scared the shit out of me!” You gasped, voice edging in a little laugh. “What are you doing?” “Oh, I don’t know,” your girlfriend cooed, her head resting against your thigh. “Playin’ with my girlfriend, makin’ her vision come true.” Vision? You tried to blink the sleep from your eyes, slowly allowing yourself to roll back into your previous position, looking down at the red-head between your legs. Leah’s green eyes glinted up to you, pearly whites revealed by a bright smile. “You don’t remember?” She asked, pale finger curling against the fabric of your panties. “No…not really…but it’s…2 AM and my brain hasn’t really started working yet.” Leah let out a soft laugh, her nose nuzzling into the softness of your thigh, the tip of it still cold, which meant she probably hadn’t been in bed until now. “Mh, how about I give you a hand in remembering, sweet thing?” She murmured, lips pressing a sweet kiss into your thigh, causing the yawn that had just been leaving you to be interrupted by a small gasp of surprise. “S-show me?”

Again, there was this feeling if something stroking along your thigh. It was no longer cold, but not as soft as Leah’s fingers, having you scrunch your nose in confusion. You tried to see what it is, but the moon light that fell in through the window above the bed already struggled to illuminate your girlfriend’s pretty face. “Come on, baby, relax.” She pressed another kiss into your thigh, smiling to herself at the way it twitched. Even when she was barely able to see, Leah knew just how to touch you, making it easy for you to relax into the mattress. “That’s it. You are such a darling,” she whispered, beet sheets crackling under her shifting weight. You bit down on your lower lip, allowing yourself to be swallowed up in this feeling, allowing yourself to truly feel the way her lips pressed into the plush of your thigh, the way her fingers traced gentle patterns over your hipbone, and the way…something slowly wandered up to your crotch. Your hand automatically reached downward, fingers finding strands of loose red hair almost naturally, letting them slip through your fingers in a gentle caress. You could feel your girlfriend shift again, awakening the urge to ask her what she was doing with you, yet you didn’t need to wait much longer for the answer as you felt your panties being slipped to the side. “You know…your pussy is such a work of art,” the woman between your legs whispered, the sigh that accompanied her words being one of honest desire. “Stop,” you laughed, the blush on your face undeniable making your cheeks burn up. “No, I am serious.” “I-“ The kiss that was neatly placed against your clit crudely cut you off – not that you really mined, not with how heavenly her tongue now joining her affections felt. And then there was this pressure, something smooth and hard pressing against your twitchy little hole, making your toe curl, fingers tightening in her hair. “W-what is that?” “Your vision,” Leah answered smugly, not allowing any more questions with the way her tongue pressed against your clit, giving it a long, slow drag, before slowly shaking her head into you. The thing at your entrance wasn’t resting, Leah’s hand guiding it up and down, up and down in a way too good for you to resist, your hips bucking toward the pressure you felt hinting at your already weepy cunt. “Feels good, huh?” Leah hummed against your cunt, letting her tongue circle around your clit, her free hand holding open your thigh that was threatening to twitch shut. “Y-ye-hes- Oh fuck,” you gasped out, feeling the hard thing push forward. The tip of it had warmed up by now, but as Leah pushed on it felt kind of cold, making you shudder. You swallowed dryly, your already tightened fist tugging on her hair again, hip bucking forward. The ginger sighed another sigh, nuzzling her face against your clit while she kept it sucked in her mouth, making you moan her name quietly. Gosh, did you know how fucking stunning you were? That you were her favourite piece of art? A masterpiece she could never replicate, even though she had you in mind whenever she worked on her pieces oh so diligently. No, she could never keep up with the beauty you held, especially when you were in bed like this, pretty back arched in, desperately pushing your cunt in little suckles and quick licks, urging her face to nuzzle further into your pussy.

“So beautiful, sweet thing. Like how it feels?” You wanted to answer, the words to formulate the answer were there and yet just out of reach, tumbling around wildly when Leah pulled back the…toy? Just to push it back in. Your breathing was hitched, eyes slipping shut again, drowning in the wave of hot pleasure that washed over you with Leah’s tongue greedily lapping up whatever you were giving her, toy fucking your cute little cunt with the same precision she used on her art pieces. “That’s it, sweet thing. Moan for me- yesss, Gosh, you sound so sweet for me,” she whispered, lips wrapping around the sensitive bundle of nerves again, hand speeding up the thrusts of the toy. Your moans were turning into small, breathless gasps, the waves of pleasure becoming shocks that ran down your spine, making your toes curl and your thighs tremble. “Leah, I-“ “I know, baby. Just let it happen,” she murmured, looking up at you as she flicked her tongue over your sensitive bundle of nerves, humming against it as she shook her again. The toy was being fucked into you faster now, smooth surface making it easy for your girlfriend to fuck you deep with it, creating these sloppy wet sounds that made her own body heat up with lust. You were allowing yourself to be carried away, eyes only opening here to look down at what you could see of your girlfriend, legs pressed against her head as much as she’d allow, her eyes sometimes searching yours – you could feel her smile against you whenever she found them – oh, how carefully she worked you toward that orgasm you felt lingering. Moments like these made you aware how lucky you were, and even though the darkness limiting your field of sight, you knew you had an angel right there with you. And Yoba, to be completely honest – the darkness added to this. Made you focus on the way her fingers brushed and traced, the way her tongue spelled a dirty little mantra on you, the way your cunt sloppily sucked in the toy that was so mercilessly being pounded into you, feeling its smooth surface glide along your walls.

“Mhhhhm,” she murmured, not even bothering to pull away from your clit, way too greedy to abuse that already sensitive bundle of nerves with her mouth, swiftly ignoring the way your hands pushed and pulled at her hair at the same time, as if you weren’t quite sure what you wanted. And really, you weren’t. On one hand you absolutely chased after that orgasm that was so close you could taste it on the tip of your tongue, on the other, the swirl of sensations that had your body in a chokehold. It felt like you were hanging by a thread, and by Yoba, that thread was delicious. However, it turned out that your girlfriend was just as merciless as this situation was good, not slowing down her pace at all, keeping up that never-ending pushing and prodding at every single button she could possibly find. “Le-le-leah, fuckfuckfuck, right there! Right there, right there, right there! Pleasepleasepleaseplease,” you rambled, the string of words leaving you so fast that you almost stumbled over them, hips rutting against what was given to you. You just always managed to fascinated Leah – one moment it seemed like you were left absolutely breath- and wordless, taking whatever she gave you, and the next you were a babbling mess, and a greedy one at that. She didn’t mind, though, no. Her tongue kept swirling and lapping, lips suckling here and there, toy fucking open your clenching walls. If she was being fair, you weren’t the only one that was greedy. Oh no, she was too. Hungrily sucking up whatever you gave her, eagerly searching for more by nuzzling closer, even though that was almost impossible. She was savouring those throbs against her tongue, relishing in the way your cunt clung to your new toy, drowning in those moans you gifted her. But you weren’t quite there, not yet, your pathetic little hip grinding into her in your desperate haze to be pushed over the edge until finally- A squeal left your lips as your hips snapped forward one last time, body trembling as you felt the knot in your stomach snap, orgasm tingling through your body in a way that was making your ears ringing, tongue going numb in your mouth. “Thaaaaat’s it,” you heard from somewhere far away, the thrusts into your achy, gushing cunt slowing down, but fuck, you could feel them pound in your head, making your eyes roll. “Relax for me, sweet thing. That’s it. Look at you. Yoba, you are so hot.” Leah was fucking drenched as she watched squirm under the force by which you had been taken, watched your tits lift and fall with your quick breathing. She pressed a few more gentle kisses on your clit as she kept slowing the pace she had used on you. Her head lulled against your thigh again, gentle strokes of the toy guiding you through the orgasmic pulses that made your body twitch.

You tried to swallow as you slowly tried to come down from your high, and your evening breathing finally allowed Leah to stop. Your thighs twitched in a last attempt to protect your tingling cunt when you slowly felt the stretch of it subside, suddenly feeling all alone and empty. If it weren’t for Leah. “Good girl,” your girlfriend cooed again, the mattress shifting as she moved. Soon after, you could see her face hover above you, eyes glistening with mischief and love-sick affection. “Did you like that?” She grinned, her head tilting to the side. “I-,” you swallowed again, letting out a breathless laugh, “fuck, that was great. What was that?” This time it was Leah who laughed gently as she hovered a thick and long object above your face. You squinted your eyes, trying to let your eyes adjust enough to identify whatever was sticky-slick with the wetness of your cunt. “Is that…a stick?” “Yep.” “Wait, really?” “The one you found today.” “Leah!” “What? I shaped it up a little, cleaned it off, put raisin on. You said it looked like a dick, and I just wanted to make it come true.” “You are the WORST!” You laughed, shaky hands reaching up to cup her face. “And you love it,” she smiled, leaning down to kiss you gently.

[nn444th4n]

Lain banners If you are going to use them give me credits!!

[chierafied]

Betting on It

For @jilychallenge May 2024 | Theme: Muggle AU (+ shirtless May) Prompt: A friend coaxed us into playing strip (game) and you take off your shirt in the first round and it’s distracting. I lose the next round and my entire dress is gone and oh, winning is easy now since we’re both distracted Partnered with the wonderful @joyseuphoria ❤️💕🩵 Banner Photo by Laine Cooper on Unsplash

Trigger warnings for: alcohol mention, partial nudity, swearing and gambling

Read on AO3.

If Lily hadn’t downed those last two tequila shots, she might’ve wondered how she ended up here: squinting at the cards she’d been dealt while sneaking appreciative glances at the very impressive set of abs. They were a piece of art, really. Worthy of being displayed at the Louvre. Though she was delighted they were on display here and now. Really, ah, appreciative.

It had, of course, all been Sirius’ fault. The parties he threw were a legend on the campus, and an opportunity to let loose was all Lily needed right now, after somehow surviving the previous gruelling two weeks. As it always was at the end of a term, she’d been peppered with deadlines for various papers with other miscellaneous course work needing to be turned in — all the while she was somehow expected to study for the exams for her remaining courses.

So when Sirius had slid into her DMs with the party invitation, Lily had accepted it right away. She’d showed up at his party, and had gone on her merry way drinking, laughing, chatting and dancing the night away.

But all parties, even the best ones, eventually had to wind down. And somehow, as everyone else had been leaving, Sirius had coaxed her to stay. There had been that bottle of tequila and things started to get fuzzier from there. There had been boasts. A dare. A deck of card being brandished. And now there were abs.

Such glorious, glorious abs.

“Lily?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you need to change any cards?”

“Sure.”

Lily tossed out two cards from her hand and picked two from the deck to replace them. Then, she squinted at her shitty hand in confusion. Fuck. Had she just thrown out her queen? She hadn’t meant to do that. She slanted a glare at the stupid, distracting abs.

“It’s the moment of truth, people! Cards on the table.”

Holding out onto hope that someone had even worse a hand than she did, Lily laid down her cards. As her gaze skittered from one set of cards to the next, that hope sputtered and died. She’d lost the bloody round.

“YES!” Sirius exclaimed, all giddy. “I win again!”

“Your loss, Lily,” Remus said, nudging her shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah…”

Now, under any other circumstances, being a lone girl playing with three guys, Lily would have chosen her next move differently. But one of those guys was Sirius and the other was Remus and the third… Well.

If it had been just the abs, she might have still played it safe. But it wasn’t.

It was the messy dark hair falling onto his forehead in a tousled curl. It was the line of his jaw that seemed made for biting. It was the breadth of his shoulders, the flex of his forearms. It was that cocky, crooked grin of his. It was the way he’d made her laugh in five seconds when they’d met, earlier. It was that light, buoyant feeling bubbling inside after their brief chat. It was the way her skin tingled under the weight of his stare.

And, sure, the abs didn’t hurt.

Lily straightened, and as her fingers gripped the hem, she locked her eyes with James Potter. And held the stare, pulling up her dress, watching the way the hazel eyes twinkled and the pupils widened. Her vision was briefly obscured by the dress as she pulled it over her head, but the little choked sound she heard was gratifying. Once she tossed the dress behind her, she was rewarded by the sight of flushed cheeks and the column of his throat soundlessly working.

Sirius was dying of laughter while Remus stared at her, one eyebrow raised.

Lily glanced at him and shrugged, though the muffled groan following her gesture had a slow smile spread to her lips.

Remus rolled his eyes and dealt them all a new hand.

Lily picked up her cards but didn’t look at them. She was, instead, staring at James, who didn’t seem to be able to take his eyes off her.

Good. Lily grinned at him.

She loved poker, but she was moving onto a new game. One that promised to have more satisfying rewards.

[melabea]

merfolk id pack!

includes names, 1stpp, 2ndpp, 3rdpp, genders, alterhuman flags, & other terms!

names:

Abyssal, Alkali, Allur, Bay, Brim, Brine, Brooks, Cecaelia, Cloud, Coastal, Coral/Coralie, Cordelia, Delilah, Dooriya, Flood, Gale, Irv, Jubilee, Lake, Mari/Maris/Marina/Marine, Maritime, Mere, Merrick, Misty, Oceana, Pollyanna, Riverine/Riviera, Seashore, Seaside, Seawater, Serena, Shore, Siren/Syren/Syrin, Storm, Summer, Sylph, Thalassa, Themis, Tide, Whirlwind, & Windstorm

1stpp: (xi/xe/xy/xine/xyself)

abyi/abye/aby/abyine/abyself, ba/be/bay/bane or bine/bayself, bri/bre/bry/brim/bryself, bro/brook/bry/bron/bryself, clo/cloud/cly/clone/clyself, coa/coast/coy/coan/coyself, cor/coral/coray/corine/corself, flo/flood/flooy/floine or floodine/flooyself, la/lake/lay/laine/layself, mari/marine/mary/marine/maryself, mer/me/mery/merine/meryself, oc/ocean/oceany/ocine/oceanyself, ri/rive/rivery/rine or riverine/riveryself, sea/se/seay/seaine/seayself, shor/shore/shory/shorine/shoryself, si/siren/sireny/sine/sirenyself, storm/storme/story/stormine/storyself, thalassic/thalassi/thalassy/thalassine/thalassyself, ti/tide/tidy/tine or tidine/tidyself, whi/whirl/whirly/whine or whirline/whiryself, & wi/wind/windy/wine or windine/windyself

2ndpp: (xou/xour/xours/xourself)

abyss/abyr/abyrs/abyrself, bay/bayr/bayrs/bayrself, brim/br/brs/brself, brook/br/brs/brself, cloud/clour/clours/clourself, coast/coar/coars/coarself, coral/cor/cors/coralself, lake/lakr/lakrs/lakrself, marine/mar/mars/marself, maritime/mar/mars/marself, me/mer/mers/merself, ocean/ocear/ocears/ocearself, rive/river/rivers/riverself, sea/sear/sears/searself, sea/seashore/seashores/seashoreself, seaside/seasir/seasirs/seasirself, sea/seawater/seawaters/seawaterself, sho/shore/shores/shoreself, siren/sir/sirs/sirself, sto/storms/storms/stormself, thalassic/thalassir/thalassirs/thalassirself, tide/tider/tiders/tiderself, whirlwind/whirl/whirls/whirlself, whi/whirl/whirls/whirl, wind/wir/wirs/wirself, & wind/windstorm/windstorms/windstormself

3rdpp: (xe/xim)

aby/abyss, bay/bays, brim/brims, brook/brooks, cloud/clouds, coast/coasts, coral/corals, flood/floods, lake/lakes, marine/marines, maritime/maritimes, mari/times, mer/mers, ocean/oceans, river/rivers, sea/seas, seashore/seashores, sea/shores, seaside/seasides, sea/sides, seawater/seawaters, sea/waters, shore/shores, siren/sirens, storm/storms, thalassic/thalassics, tide/tides, whirlwind/whirlwinds, whirl/winds, whirl/whirls, wind/winds, windstorm/windstorms, & wind/storms

genders: (all terms are links)

merfolk, mereic, mermaidcore, sirenish, merlikic, merblood/merfolkblood, sirenblood, mermonster, sirenmonster, autimeric/autimerfolkic, autisirenic, merplayful, merpuplayful, merplaymate, mergender, phosirenial, merive, gendermerpup, & merenvic

alterhuman flags: (all terms are links)

mermaid constelic, siren, merfolk alterproxy, siren alterproxy, mer/merfolk linosus, & mermaid kin

other terms: (all terms are links)

merfolk 4 siren/siren 4 merfolk, queer mer, mer privawor, siren privawor, merforial, mercollector/merhoarder, merspesque, miscemer/miscemerfolk, merchronal, sirenvior, mervior/merfolkvior, merinurvesi, aldermermic, merane attraction, & mermare attraction

banner made by us!

[welcomingdisaster]

Fingon can feel the edge of a dream as he wakes, but not its substance. Sleep clings to him, thick and dark as molasses, even when the outside world begins to infringe. It smells of hyacinths, so fragrant he can almost taste the flowers. Light warms his cheek. A nightingale sings. Some bit of grass tickles his neck. Some little sharpness pokes his hand; he opens his eyes and sees that a junebug, iridescent green-pink, drags its round body over his finger, jointed legs pinching slightly at his skin. And just behind that—

An elven face, half-turned from him, eyes shut in sleep. Hair loose, straight and yellow as straw, scattering of freckles over the cheeks, long and very slightly upturned nose. Aegnor. 

Something in Fingon’s neck clicks as he turns to look at his other side, some slight shifting of his body back into place. He yawns, and hears his jaw click, too. 

But there is Angrod, just where he ought to be. Elbow thrown over his face, hands unadorned, golden mane catching the light. He is dressed oddly, all in white. 

Some distant, childish thought strikes Fingon: We must have fallen asleep playing in Father’s gardens. But no, no—no, that is wrong, long gone. Then—we must have been drinking. The midsummer festival of the trees. The hunt. 

Angrod shifts slightly in sleep, lets his arm fall. The ruddy scar that ought to curl over his upper lip is gone. But why should he have scars? 

 A glancing blow from an orc blade, Fingon remembers, if it had gone lower it would have struck his throat. His dream dances again in front of his eyes, a mud stained silver banner buffeted by the wind. Behind Aegnor’s features there is suddenly a blackened land, a scattering of ash. Fingon's eyes flick away, into the garden. 

The bowing, weeping willows. The bright red hyacinths, scattered as rubies on the shore. The shadowed, tucked away places, covered with sunset-orange nemesia and crimson bleeding-heart.  That is where the dead queen had lain, Fingon thinks, and knows what has come of them.

[scotianostra]

On the freezing morning of March 25 1306, Robert the Bruce was crowned King of Scots at Scone where a circlet of gold was raised and placed upon his head.

He was crowned in the presence of at least three bishops and four earls with the coronation, which followed the murder of John Comyn, Bruce’s main rival to the throne, a formal and solemn affair.

The King was draped in “kingly robes and vestments” which had been hidden away by Robert Wishart, the Bishop of Glasgow, until “this longed for day”, according to Ronald McNair Scott in his book Robert the Bruce, King of Scotland.

“(They) were brought out by the old man and set upon King Robert, and a circlet of gold was placed upon his head while the great banner of the kings of Scotland with its lion and scarlet lillies, that had lain so long concealed, was planted behind his throne,” the author wrote.

The Bishops of Moray and St Andrews were also in attendance as well as the Earls of Atholl, Lennox, Menteith and Mar. Absent, however, was the Earl of Fife, who held the hereditary right to crown the kings of Scotland.

Still a youth and held in England as a ward of court in 1306, he unable to attend the coronation and perform his hereditary duties. But his sister, 19-year-old Isabella MacDuff, the Countess of Buchan, went against the will of her husband - a loyal supporter of Edward I and close kinsman of the murdered John Comyn - by taking up the hugely symbolic role during the coronation.

“To her the call of Scotland and her youthful hero-worship of Bruce proved greater than her wifely duty,” Scott wrote.

“Seizing her husband’s finest horses, she rode with the upmost speed to Scone to act on her brother’s behalf” he added.

Isabella arrived a day too late but but King Robert took part in a second coronation ceremony, 48 hours after the first,so that the ancient tradition may be preserved.

“The golden circlet was lifted once more and placed upon the brow of Robert Bruce, Earl of Carrick, Lord of Annandale, King of Scots.”

Following the coronation, Edward I sent soldiers into Scotland to hunt down the new king. Robert fled and, as the manhunt continued across Scotland, the King’s brother - Nigel de Brus - and other supporters were discovered.

They were taken to Berwick-Upon-Tweed where the men were judicially condemned, hanged, drawn and beheaded.

Along with other members of the family including King Robert's wife, Elizabeth, Isabella was captured and sent to the Borders town. There, she was confined to a cage that was hung from a tower at Berwick Castle as a warning to others. She remained in the cage for four years, according to accounts.

[ratlinez]

[the-real-loser-otaku-girl]

um hi i. noticed Your banner!

do You like serial experiments lain? :D ive been trying to get the courage to get back into it, i really liked the first couple episodes!!

Its good! I wanna rewatch it :3

[quillandink333]

The Other’s Choice • pt. 3

Credit to @winterxisxcomingx for the beautiful banner ♡︎

SPOILERS FOR HAZBIN HOTEL ~ Read ahead at your own risk!

Faced with the harsh reality of Heaven's steadfast opposition, the angel of joy is forced to make a drastic decision with gruesome consequences, but luckily she isn't alone for long.

WARNINGS: Abrahamic imagery (obviously), pseudocest, body dysphoria, malnourishment

Part I • Part II • Part III

Emily was alone in Lucifer’s guest suite when, for the first time in over three weeks, she stood up out of bed by herself. Her transformation was finally over with. Her eyes were now a sickly yellow with bright red irises, her teeth were like arrowheads, her fingertips looked as if they’d been burned like charcoal, and her interior feathers looked as if they’d been soaked in the blood of sinners. At least she’d managed to figure out how to conceal her new horns and tail with her host’s gracious guidance. All she wanted was to feel like herself again.

Her pristine royal gown, the one she’d been wearing on the day of her fall, loomed above her, hung from the top of the tall closet door opposite her bed. There it had been since that day, looking down on her. She used her wings to reach it.

When she had it back on, she wandered over to the full-length mirror in the corner of the room. It was the first time she’d lain eyes upon her reflection since she’d run away from home. But instead of finding satisfaction in the mere glimpse of familiarity, she tensed. She looked like Sera. The resemblance made her cheeks flare with anger and her stomach clench with bitterness. She let out a cry as she seized the length of her skirt with both hands, claws out, and tore it clean off.

But when she opened her eyes, they went wide with horror. Her cursed horns and tail were out on full display, and she knew that getting them to go away again would take hours if not the whole rest of the day due to her inexperience. What frightened her most, however, was seeing what she’d done to her once favourite dress. The skirt was now so short that, with the slight upward angle of the standing mirror, it put her unmentionables in full view.

She turned her back to the mirror and changed into the pair of Charlie’s old pyjamas she’d been given as fast as she physically could with a clumsy snap of her fingers. Then her gaze fell to the dress, watching it fall into a heap of fabric with the rest she’d ripped off. Her wings dragged behind her as she picked it up. Perhaps something could be done yet to salvage it.

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That afternoon, Lucifer was lounging in the parlour connected to her suite. Charlie had needed him at the hotel in the morning to discuss certain matters regarding the new building. Otherwise he’d have spent the whole day here right where Emily could find him, just in case she needed something. He’d gotten her a new phone to contact him with, but even so, the thought of leaving her alone in this strange and enormous castle left a bad taste in his mouth.

“Lu…cifer, S-Sir?”

He twisted around at the sound of her timid voice coming from the doorway to her room. “Yes, Em?”

She froze in place, her eyes darting around and her arms tucked mysteriously behind her back. Cocking his head at her, he gave her a warm, hopefully inviting look and gestured for her to come join him in the parlour, which she did, her tiny feet shuffling across the rug as she plopped herself on the chaise kitty-corner to him.

“What’s up, buttercup?” he smiled, encouraging her to speak her mind.

She couldn’t help but smile back at the nickname. “Well, uh…I have good news and bad news. Let’s just get the bad news out of the way first.”

He nodded attentively. “I’m all ears.”

“You know that dress I was wearing when I fell?” He gave another nod. “Yeah, so…about that…” How could she even begin to explain what had happened to it? “Well, let’s just say that…I let my emotions get the better of me, and it paid the price.”

“Oh dear. What happened?”

She forced a laugh. “I tore three quarters of the skirt off.”

“What?!” He made her flinch; she wasn’t expecting such an impassioned reaction from him. “But you loved that dress! What—”

“I know, it’s okay!” she cut him off before he could ask what in the seven rings had possessed her to do such a thing. “Don’t worry, okay? The good news is I fixed it. Sort of.” She then brought her hands out from behind her back and let said dress unfold in front of her. It had been magically reimagined to the point where it was all but unrecognisable. The skirt now fell to just above her knees, replaced with all new, crimson fabric. The bodice had stayed the same, except the eight-pointed symbol in the centre had changed colour to match the skirt, and the sleeves were gone completely. “Actually I kinda wanted to try making it better than before, in a way. What do you think?”

Lucifer took his time admiring her handiwork, pulling an impressed pout and making her giggle. “Not bad! Not bad at all,” he praised, standing up to run his fingers along each hem. “To be frank, I never cared much for the traditional Heavenly style so to speak, so this certainly is an improvement if you ask me.”

She lowered her head to hide her embarrassed grin. “Thanks, I’m glad.”

“Well, don’t keep me in suspense. Let me see it on you!”

This made Emily’s expression go blank as she realised she’d failed to think this far ahead.

“What’s wrong?” He raised an eyebrow. “It suits you perfectly, you know. Aren’t you proud of how it turned out?”

“I guess, but…” She turned her head in an attempt to lower her gaze.

At this, he frowned and thwarted her attempt by reaching out and tilting her chin back towards him. “But…?”

She sighed in defeat. “It’s just…I didn’t mean to tear off as much as I did. Or, well, I did, but when I tried it on again even after adding a couple inches to it, I still felt…exposed.” The word that came to mind initially was, ‘indecent,’ but in her head she knew modesty wasn’t worth much down here. “Maybe I’m just not used to showing so much yet.”

“Mh, that could be. I remember feeling like that,” he said, resting a hand on her shoulder. “It’s only natural for us fallen folk, when you think about it. I mean, we were brought into the world being told that our very bodies were something to be ashamed of and hidden, which—I’m gonna say it—is fucking ludicrous.” Though his language caught her off balance, she couldn’t disagree. “But hey, it’s absolutely okay if you need a little more time before you’re ready to start showing more skin. Not that you ever have to! It is your body, after all.”

She would’ve been lying if she said she didn’t feel any pressure at all to dress one way or the other, but the affirmations he offered did help to relieve some of it. Before she could help herself, images of gathered jacquard and pooling chiffon were already cycling through her mind, taking on a myriad of shapes and silhouettes.

“Lucifer…would you mind helping me with something?” she awkwardly asked. “My conjuring skills are nowhere near yours and…well, I’m gonna need some materials and tools and stuff if you don’t mind.”

“Of course, absolutely!” He stood up and held his cane at the ready. “As I’ve mentioned, my power is limitless for all intents and purposes, so don’t be afraid to ask for whatever anytime.”

She smiled to herself, having long since lost count of how many times he’d made her do that, flattered by his eager (albeit quite boastful) generosity. “Thank you. Let’s see, first I’ll need a dress form—” No later than the final syllable had passed her lips did the very object of her request appear next to her just inches away. “Oh—perfect! What else…? Measuring tape for sure, fabric scissors, a bolt of muslin, probably some tailor’s chalk, and a well-stocked pincushion should do it for now.” Each item appeared on the nearby coffee table as she listed them one by one. To her delight, the pincushion he conjured up was shaped like a little toy ducky, which she couldn’t help but adore.

“I’d be happy to help you practice your conjuring some time, if you’d like,” he offered offhandedly as she got to work draping pieces of the muslin here and there upon the dress form. “Seeing as you’re a seraph like myself, you must have a similar amount of potential, wouldn’t you think?”

“Really?” She beamed, though she didn’t look away from what she was doing. “Yes, please, that would be so helpful. I could only manage to make one pin at a time when I was doing the alterations on that,” she tilted her head toward the dress with the shortened skirt where it lay on the sofa, “and it took for-ever, oh my gosh, it was so-o-o tedious.”

“I can imagine,” he sniggered, unable to take his eyes off of her as she danced around the mannequin. “Still, I’m impressed you were able to do that much at your current skill level. Hopefully this will go a bit quicker with my help,” he added, despite not having the first idea what ‘this’ was that she’d suddenly gotten so swept up in. He didn’t even feel the need to ask, content to simply observe her in her state of hyper-focused diligence. She kept draping and pinning, tracing and cutting, as if she’d been doing this since the day she was born. The parlour fell into a comfortable silence except for when she needed him to provide something for her, like a different kind of fabric or some spare bobbins or a new spool of thread. She kept expressing her worries that all this magic was supposedly taking some kind of toll on him, but each time he’d reassure her and wave it off, saying he was more than happy to assist and that it cost him nothing whatsoever. Anything to keep him from decomposing alone in a prison of his own design, as had been the usual until the little angel had tumbled into his life.

Minutes soon accumulated into hours, and before either of them noticed, it was already past supper time. In fact, what finally alerted them both to the hour was a loud and unexpected growl from her stomach, causing her to blush. “Let me just try it on and make some final adjustments really quick,” she excused herself before carrying her armful of lovingly tailored textiles off to her room.

“Alright, take your time!” he called after her, keeping his amusement under wraps. “I’ll have dinner ready for us by the time you’re done!”

For someone with his magical ability, meal prep was something that could be finished with a snap of one’s finger. Despite this, Lucifer had grown rather fond of the muggle’s cooking process. Not only did he enjoy the artistry of concocting new and exciting (though not always pleasant) flavours, but he found it was a great way to kill time. Time that he had far too much of.

Once the stuffed pheasant was in the oven, he returned to the parlour just in time to see Emily emerge from her room in the most breathtaking attire he’d ever lain eyes on.

His eyes started at the cornflower-coloured bodice with its surprisingly striking halter neckline. The sheer sleeves were long and off the shoulders, beginning in a dainty lantern shape before ballooning down to her wrists. And then the skirt—oh, the skirt! It was mostly made of the same fabric as the bodice, but a broad band of beautiful royal-blue damask took up about the lowermost fifth of its length. And that wasn’t even the best part. Though the hem touched the floor, the front of it was suspended with two symmetrically placed silk bows (much like the oversized one hanging from her collar and lying quaintly across her chest) to right around her mid-thigh, the elegant drapes revealing a glimpse of her blackened but still lovely legs.

“Wowwie…” he mumbled under his breath as he took a few strides toward her, almost in a trance.

“Do you like it?”

“Oh, yes!” he gushed, having been so wrapped up in his admiration that he nearly forgot to say something. “It’s gorgeous, you look like a queen.” This comment brought out a bright glow in her cheeks, and as he connected the dots as to why, his face flushed as well. He cleared his throat. “But, uhm, d-do you? Like it, I mean?”

“Wait, you’re asking me if I like what I made?” she questioned, drawing an endeared sigh out of him. It seemed taking pride in anything she did was a foreign concept to the poor girl. “Well…” He waved his cane and conjured a mirror in front of her before she could express her indifference.

“It really suits you, you know,” he noted matter-of-factly. “Are you any more comfortable wearing this than the one you altered?”

She decided to humour him and beheld her reflection from multiple angles with as open a mind as she could have. “I think so,” she admitted, a sheepish smile teasing at the corners of her lips. “I was going for something less revealing than that one is now, but still a little bit more revealing than it was originally.”

As she stood there, taking in her appearance, she didn’t feel anything like the overwhelming shame and self-loathing that had come over her early that morning. She felt like a completely new, and dared she think improved, version of herself. She smiled at her, and she smiled back.

“Emily, dear, don’t you realise what you’re doing?” He came up behind her, their eyes meeting through the mirror as he positioned his hands on her exposed shoulders. She tilted her head. “You love this! Look at you, look at how long you spent on this today all in one sitting; it’s obvious how much you’ve been enjoying yourself,” he chuckled fondly. “I mean, not that I haven’t been…y’know…but anyway, it looks to me like you’ve found yourself a pretty great hobby.”

Emily didn’t know what to say. She was unsure how to even interpret his words, let alone how to respond.

“This is exactly what I wanted for you,” he emphasised, turning her around to face him. “You have no idea—if I hadn’t had my ducks to keep me busy, I’d have lost it ages ago. This is gonna be so, so good for you. For us, now that we have each other! Oh, Em…” While she was still processing his swell of emotion, he threw his arms around her and pulled her into a bone-crushing embrace, making her stumble forward.

The way the hug went on and on, she could feel how truly happy he was to behold her frivolous little creation. He was like a fountain of pure joy. No one, not even Sera, had ever reacted so strongly to her engaging in her own self-centred interests before. She couldn’t make sense of it. This was the first time she’d ever felt so seen, so appreciated, so individual. The feeling was so sweet and so profound, so much warmer and brighter than any sunlight that had ever touched her face in Heaven, it frightened her. Something about his relentlessly doting attention felt wrong. Misplaced, even. But despite this, her own arms wrapped around him in return with a will of their own. Great—now she could hardly bear to let go.

“So, after we’ve eaten, how ’bout finally making your grand entrance at the hotel in your stunning new getup?” he grinned, looking her up an down without letting go of her shoulders. “I think you’re about ready to introduce yourself to everyone, don’t you?”

Somehow that question was all it took for the floodgates to come crashing open. Ironically she couldn’t seem to identify her own emotions, nor could she even tell if what she was feeling was good or bad. Was it fear? Or beauty? Relief, maybe? Or grief? Whatever it was, the tears came, and they wouldn’t be subsiding any time soon.

Lucifer was panicking as he watched her suddenly crumble to pieces. “Wait, what’s wrong? Oh, oh dear.” He immediately gathered her into the shelter of his arms again, running an open hand from the crown of her head to the small of her back. “There, there, it’ll be alright. I got you. We don’t have to go to the hotel yet unless you’re sure you’re totally ready.”

“No, I-I am ready,” she sobbed, very much unready. “I just…” Her life was flashing before her eyes: another experience that was completely and utterly new to her. “I’m… I’m here,” she whimpered. “I’m not…up there anymore, a-and…I don’t even know who I am.”

All of a sudden, the devil felt himself being cast back ten thousand years, reliving the darkest moment of his torturous, never-ending life. He could never forget what it had been like to go from being blinded by celestial light glinting off blades of angelic steel to waking up broken and defiled in a wasteland of fire and brimstone as far as the eye could see. Seeing her blame herself for her so-called sins, it allowed a blazing inferno to come to life within the most forgotten depths of his soul.

No matter what the future held, he knew he couldn’t bear to let this pure, selfless spirit go through the same undue anguish he’d had to endure alone. He wouldn’t.

“C’mon, darling.” He kept an arm snugly around her waist while he began guiding her along toward the kitchen. “I’d venture a guess that you haven’t eaten anything since breakfast,” he sweetly chastised, drying her tears and gently encouraging her to meet his warm, protective gaze. “And hey, if parenthood has taught me anything, it’s that no one can face the world on an empty stomach,” he snorked—a successful attempt to get a smile out of her, albeit a broken one. “You’ll feel all the more ready to go meet the gang once your belly’s full, ’kay? Sound good?”