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flurry-of-stars · 6 months ago

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𝐹𝑜𝓇𝑔𝑒𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓈𝑒𝓁𝒻, 𝓈𝓊𝓇𝓇𝑒𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓂𝒾𝓃𝒹

𝒫𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔: Idol! Nikolai x Idol! Reader

𝒢𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒

Idol AU, pre-established relationship, secret relationship

⚠️ 18+, mature content ⚠️ Jealousy, smut with plot, public groping, cunnilingus, fingering, grinding, unprotected sex, praise, pet names, dom/sub undertones.

𝒮𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎: A chuckle rumbles in his throat as his fingertips trail further up your arm, towards your delicate shoulder, His hand massages it tentatively as he teasingly whispers, “So feisty~ But you know I’ve always loved that about you.” “I knew you’d get jealous~” 𝒲𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒞𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉: 7.4k (𝒜/𝒩: I forgot I had this draft from April so I decided to finish it up. I had more planned for this AU but we'll see (//▽//) Fish in a Birdcage gave me a reason to write something spicy--)

𝕽𝖊𝖇𝖑𝖔𝖌𝖘 𝖆𝖗𝖊 𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖞 𝖆𝖕𝖕𝖗𝖊𝖈𝖎𝖆𝖙𝖊𝖉 ♡

“Okay girls! Take a five minute break and then we’ll be moving on to the next routine!” The choreographer claps his hands twice before turning away, walking away from the stage.

Your eyes trail him as he disappears past the crew preparing everything for tomorrow night and towards your manager. You sit down, wiping rolling sweat off your forehead as your fellow Everglow Angelics idols also sit down. You hear one whine, “My feet are killing me. We’ve been going at this since five in the morning!” You identify the voice as Makayla’s without even looking over at her. She was the youngest of the group. “I didn’t even eat anything before I left my apartment,” another whines as she lays on the stage. “Do you think we can get away with getting delivery?” “Unless you want to piss off Simon again, I suggest you don’t Cecilia.” A fellow idol warns as she walks around, passing everyone water bottles. You crack the cap on yours, the cool drink refreshing you as the conversation goes on, “We only have a few more routines left, then we can head out for the day.” “You forgot Nadia, they also want to do a full dress rehearsal,” Makayla says without looking over. “And we have to sit through the boy's routine too.” Cecilia scoffs as she fights with the cap on her bottle, “Like seriously? We won’t even be here after they usher us off stage.” “I thought it was just to decide who’s being partnered with who?” You inquire. Cecilia sighs and shrugs. “Apparently not,” she grumbles. She turns her attention to Nadia again, whining again, “What if we get delivery from that seafood place? The one that just opened up on the other side of town?”

“Lydia’s allergic to shellfish,” Nadia replies calmly, wiping her forehead with her sleeve. Lydia silently nods as she rubs her shoulder. She always was the quietest of the group. She flashes Cecilia a teasing look, “And besides, we all know you’d never order seafood.” “What! Yes I would--!” As the conversation goes on, your gaze drifts towards Simon, your manager, dressed in an expensive grey suit, and the choreographer. You see another man walking up to them.

You recognise him instantly as one of the idols from the male group. Eli. You narrow your eyes, trying to read his lips. But alas, that was a talent you’d yet to perfect. Simon nods a few times, though you notice the way his brow furrows in irritation.

Whatever Eli asked about, Simon wasn’t happy about it, raising a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. But he seems to get his way as he leaves with a grin. You’re about to follow him with your gaze but you see Simon getting closer to the stage, a large smile that doesn’t reach his eyes plastered all over his face. You whisper to the girls, grabbing their attention. “Ladies, may I have your attention for a moment.” He calls in a loud voice. Though you and your fellow idols wince, you put those acting classes to good use.

Sweet smiles adorn each of your faces as you share glances of ‘Oh god, here we go’ with each other. His feigned smile tugs slightly, as if adjusting itself back into place. He continues, “Due to some complications with your fellow idol group, we’re going to decide the pairings for tomorrow night now.”

As Simon says this, footsteps echo on the stagefloor, causing you to look back. Joining you onstage as expected is the male idol group Simon also manages. “So let’s deal with this quickly so you lovely ladies can get back to work, alright?” He grins wide for a moment, but it swiftly drops as he steps back, his hand cupping and running over his chin.

You stand up, your heart fluttering a little as you roll the water bottle between your hands.

You hear him pairing off the others first; Makayla with Eli is the first pairing you hear. You wait quietly as the other girls are paired off, your heart fluttering as you realize who you’re going to be paired with. “And that just leaves—” You squeak in surprise as your wrist is grabbed, hand lifted as you’re spun, your water bottle slipping out of your hand. Then you’re dipped. Heat rushes to your cheeks as a strong hand holds the small of your back, your heart leaping as you see an all too familiar smirk and a pair of gleaming, mismatched eyes, “—Us~” Nikolai Gogol.

The most beloved of the male idol group and the non-official leader, as dubbed by the fans. Quite frankly, you couldn’t blame them. Especially not when you had your own private box of merch hidden away at home. Even dressed in simple clothes, as he was now, you could feel yourself swooning. Or maybe that was just because his black shirt was so tight, you could see his muscles through it-- He tugs you back up into a standing position, his hand practically gluing itself to your waist as the other girls giggle. You swallow slowly, trying to calm down.

After all, there wasn’t anything wrong with how you were being held. Your heart pounds like a drum in your chest as you hear Simon continuing to talk as he walks the length of the stage, “—So for this concert, Eli,I want you to pick Makayla up—” You lose focus on the discussion, a hushed sound escaping you as you feel Nikolai’s hand slyly grope your ass for a split second. You huff under your breath, “Kolya, behave.”

“What~? I didn’t do anything,” he replies in a quiet tone. God, that accent of his made your knees shiver instantly. His hand finds its way back to your waist, tugging you closer. You whine, feeling the heat of his body against yours. Simon is still discussing plans for the concert with Eli and Makayla when you feel his hand sliding under your skirt this time for a fraction of a second. The tease. “Nikolai,” you sternly whisper, earning a cheeky giggle in return. His hand moves with the speed of a snake, latching itself back onto your waist. It feels like there’s a fire forming in your cheeks as your grumble, “Are you trying to get us caught? If Simon sees us—” “He won’t, songbird,” he whispers to you, his warm breath caressing the lobe of your ear. His hand caresses your waist a little too intimately as he places a swift kiss on your ear. It's fast, soft...teasing. “I don’t want to risk it even slightly,” you grumble, your body trembling under Nikolai’s touch. You chew on your bottom lip, watching as Simon begins talking to Nadia and her partner for the concert.

“You saw how he reacted when that delivery guy so much as flirted with Cecilia. Could you imagine if he found out about us?” Nikolai snickers, teasing you with each caress to your waist, “He isn’t going to catch us, songbird. I know what I’m doing.” His hand dips to your hip, giving it a squeeze, You whimper as your heart leaps. You can practically feel it throbbing against your ribcage.

“Don’t fly too close to the sun, Icarus,” you tease, voice slightly stern as it trembles slightly. You feel his fingers fiddling with the hem of your skirt, almost as if he’s contemplating teasing you further, another deep, throaty chuckle escaping him. “Then tell me you don’t want me to touch you like this,” he purrs teasingly. You can feel his eyes gleaming as he watches you like a predator, waiting to pounce on its cornered prey.

He’s waiting to see if you give him the green light. He wants to hear you give me consent. But unfortunately, you don’t plan on granting his wish today. Sternly, you mumble, “Do not touch me intimately where our manager or the public eye can see.” You huff, feeling his large hand pause on your waist. You hear him clicking his tongue a few times.

Then, as another chuckle escapes him, his hand returns to your waist, loosening its grip slightly. “Your wish is my command, songbird~” You frown. Why does he sound so smug all of a sudden? You knew Nikolai well enough to know when he was up to something.

The only question was what. ★★★

A cascade of glittery stars and confetti explodes from over the top of the stage, the crowd erupting into a cacophonous roar of glee and applause. Beams of bright gold and white slowly change direction, from pointing at the crowd to focusing their attention to the girl group of pop idols on the stage as the last of the fog evaporates. A fresh layer of sweat runs down your forehead as the backing track ends, raising a hand to swiftly swipe it away before the cameras can catch it.

The puffy, short princess dress you wore shimmered gold under the hot stage lights, despite being made of a pure white material, the small sparkles embedded into the skirt sparkling elegantly. But even in a short dress like this, you were melting under the intense heat of the stage lights, on top of the past three hours of non-stop performing some of the most intense dance routines your group had learnt while still being expected to sing in an unwavering voice.

You look at the other four girls with you, all wearing similar styles of Princess dresses, just in different colors. They all looked just as exhausted as you. There was just one more part of the show to go. It was the part of the show a majority of the fans were waiting for. It was one of the biggest reasons why so many of your fans were always so desperate to get their hands on tickets, even if it meant paying resellers thousands.

Someone from backstage begins handing you the glittery microphones to pass down the line, which you do so with practiced ease. The idol on the far end, Nadia, is dressed in a longer, lilac colored dress. She speaks up, her voice warm and sweet. “Is everyone having a great night?” She asks sweetly, holding her microphone up to the crowd. A wave of noise erupts back at her, a sea of glow sticks of each of their member's corresponding colors going up. She smiles, teasingly speaking into the microphone, “I can’t hear you~!” You grimace, keeping a forced smile on your face as the crowd's screams grow louder. You can hear chants for your name and the other idol’s names in there as well. Even a few ‘I love you’s’. The squeals were the ones that split through your skull the worst.

You can already feel your head thumping as the idol in the middle, Makayla, in her sleeveless dress in pink, steps forward. “We’re so happy you all enjoyed our show! We genuinely cannot thank you enough for coming out just to see us tonight!”

“But it’s getting late,” Lydia, the idol to her left speaks up, sounding more downcast. Her light blue dress has the longest sleeves and skirt. With every move she makes, she shimmers faintly. “So it’s time for us to bid you adieu!” The idol beside you, Cecilia, chimes in, sounding much more upbeat and cheerful in her pale yellow dress. Her hands and neck are adorned with jewels that shimmer and sparkle, almost blinding you as you look at her. You can feel your heart pounding as you smile out at the wild crowd. You notice every glow stick that’s shining white in the crowd as though they would be your own personal beacons, calling out just for you, screaming their support with each waggle and wave.

You take a deep breath. Your words would be the cue for the tech guys. Smiling widely, you speak happily into the microphone as you and the other girls prepare to wave to your beloved fans, “We love you all and can’t wait to see you again--!” Just like that, the stage lights go out. Your idol group begin acting panicked, each one speaking over the other as you hear the excitement growing in the crowd, notice how much more frantic the glow stick waves have become.

You hear heavier footsteps rushing onto the stage as your group's frantic words grow. “Wha--!” “Watch the dress--!!” “Where are you putting those hands--!!” It was all part of the performance. The fans were exhilarated. You could hear their loud, excited screams and cheers already, and even saw a few fans bouncing up and down in place out of sheer excitement of what was about to happen. As you feel a gloved hand snake around your waist as planned, your heart flutters as you continue putting up a fake fight, faking your annoyance until the lights come back on at the call of one of the other girls. When your eyes meet the male idol that has your wrist, you quickly realise he isn’t the man you were expecting. You blink, looking up at the debonair idol before you hear an all too familiar chuckle behind you. You turn to see Nikolai, the one you were expecting to be holding you. Except he’s holding Makayla. Almost cradling her in his arms. Your throat grows tight instantly as your heart squeezes, as though a boa constrictor would be coiling around it. His outfit was flashy and loud, despite the outfit only consisting of shades of black and white. Anytime the stage lights touched him, numerous parts of his outfit would twinkle and sparkle, from the rhinestones above his eyes and along his little top hat to the stars decorating the inner fabric of his elegant, checkered patterned overcoat. It billows behind him as he holds up your fellow idol, a charming smirk on his face. The crowd explodes in loud cheers and cries. Glowsticks turn from the colors of your idol group to the color of theirs.

The vast crowd screams the names of the male idols, many jumping as they scream. Others shaking their glowsticks so aggressively you’re almost expecting them to go airborne and knock someone out.

For many fans in the crowd, this was the whole reason they came to this show to begin with. You watch as he continues holding your fellow idol, taking her microphone from her as he speaks into it. When he speaks, his Ukrainian accent is smooth like melted butter, making a shiver run down your spine, “Quiz time~! Is it time for the party to end, dear audience?” He holds the microphone towards the crowd, earning varying degrees of response. Screams of no in varying degrees, along with many, many fans screaming their love as if this would be their last chance to do it. You wonder for a brief moment how they’re still able to scream after doing it for three hours straight when the voice of the idol with braided white locks breaks you from your thoughts. “Correct answers~! In fact, I think we’re just getting started!~ Riiiight~?” His mismatched eyes gaze at the other male idols, never once grazing your form. You feel your heart squeeze more as the other male idols cheer in agreement, much to his delight.

His smirk grows and you swear, you see his hand caressing the waist of the idol girl in pink. “Then I say we send these gorgeous ladies on their way and we continue the show~! Come along now, shoo, all of you~!” You gasp as the idol holding your wrist begins gently tugging you towards the curtain. You can hear the others creating a scene, as was expected, telling you and the other girls to head home for the night as your fellow idols whined and resisted. But you couldn’t find it in your heart to perform right now. Not when you’d just witnessed Nikolai holding another woman, regardless if it was an act or not. Once your group has been shooed backstage, pushed away with a few playful teases tossed in for good measure, you hug yourself gently as you walk to the dressing room, frowning deeply as the scene plays over and over in your mind.

The way he picked her up. How he held her. The position of his hand on her waist. The next track starts, the music booming off the walls, thumping loudly in your mind. But your mind was only focused on one thing right now.

You look up, noticing the other idols talking between each other, complaining of their exhaustion.

It isn’t a big deal, you try and tell yourself. It’s all part of the allure of the act. It’s what made rumours spread and caused the names of both idol groups to constantly be front page news every week. You were just taking things too personally.

And yet the more you dwell on it, the heavier your heart grows. Taking a few quick steps, you catch up to the others. “Makayla, can I ask you something?” The woman in the pink Princess dress looks up, smiling warmly as she stops in her tracks. You notice the exhaustion in her smile however, so you decide to cut to the chase, “Eli was suppose to pick you up on stage, wasn’t he?” Makayla looks at you curiously, her hands delicately working on taking her hair down from the intricate way it had been styled, “Yeah, he was. I’m not sure what happened but it’s not a big deal. Nikolai picked me up with no trouble at all.” She sounds genuinely astonished. “I had no idea he was that strong until tonight.” You swallow, feeling a lump forming in your throat. Nadia steps forward, a small grin on her face, “Oooh did you get to touch his muscles, Myka?” Makayla giggles, “He was holding me like a Princess, Nadia. It was hard not to!” The ladies giggle amongst themselves before she gives a sigh. No one has noticed that you haven’t spoken in these past few minutes, “It’s a shame our manager gave us that strict no dating rule. I would ask him out in a flash.” “It sounds to me more like you’d ask him straight into your bed,” Nadia replies teasingly, causing both women to start laughing again. That constricting feeling around your heart grows. You feel each painful thump your heart makes as you try to keep calm, your throat feeling so painfully dry. Excusing yourself with a sweet smile, you run to your dressing room before it gets too much. It didn’t mean anything. It was all part of the performance. It was just an act.

So then why did you feel like crying? ★★★

You slump onto the sofa in your townhouse, huffing as you lick a freezing blob of your favourite ice cream off the spoon. Some old rerun for a show is playing on the television but you’re not paying attention to it. It’s been a few days since your last onstage performance. You and the other idols were on break for the next few days before you would be heading to France for a special photo shoot in Paris.

A well known fashion designer wanted you and your fellow idols to wear her latest designs for her in her upcoming fashion show, so she was bringing you to Paris for the next week on an all-expenses paid trip. You were looking forward to it, as much as you could at least. Your heart twists in your chest everytime you look at your phone screen and notice Nikolai still hasn’t messaged you.

Your heart twists painfully as you toss your phone aside, grabbing the tub of ice cream, and devouring a few more scoops with a heavy sigh. Whatever. You didn’t need him. You should’ve known he was just treating you like an easy fling. It was really your fault for-- The phone chimes happily. You practically toss the tub of half eaten ice cream aside, diving for it. Your heart flutters with excitement...before that excitement is stomped on like a roach. It was one of the other idols messaging you. Cecilia [6:05pm]: Heyyy, do u think u can help me with smth? Cecilia [6:06pm]: Can u resend me that email our manager sent us all last week? Cecilia [6:07pm]: U know, the 1 with our schedules 4 our Paris trip? Cecilia [6:08pm]: I mstve accidently deleted it. I wuld be soooo g8ful if u sent it 2 me! ♡ You sigh, flopping your face into the plump couch cushion. Of course it wasn’t Nikolai. Stupid you for getting your hopes up like that. You groan loudly into the cushion before lifting your head, typing back. Me [6:10pm]: Sure C. I’ll send it ASAP. Cecilia [6:11pm]: Ur the literal best! I’ll buy u something while we’re in Paris to ty! Cecilia [6:12pm]: Wine? Macaroons? Watever u want, just name it n I’ll get it!!! There's a brief flicker of warmth in your heart as you smile at your phone. You drop it, leaving it on the sofa as you begin making your way upstairs to your study. It was modest, mostly because most of the shelves were empty aside from a few random books you read as a teenager and a few candles and other random ornaments you received as gifts from family members who didn’t know what to get you. You still had the same desktop computer you used as a teenager too. It was slow but until it loaded its last webpage, you’d keep using it. The door creaks as you open it.

Hopefully, you’d saved the file she was talking about into your important folder. Your hand reaches out, gliding across the light switch when a hand suddenly grasps your own, tugging you close. You cry out in surprise, your heart lunging into your throat as Nikolai pulls you in, his hand squeezes yours while the other finds its way around your waist.

He pulls you close. Very close, so that your bodies are touching, “Finally,” he chuckles, his hand moving to caress your wrist. “I wondered when you’d head upstairs.”

You’re frozen for a moment. When did he…? He must’ve used his key to sneak in while you were in the shower earlier! As you calm down, your brain finally catches up.

Then you try and pull away from him, huffing, “You’re lucky I didn’t punch you for startling me!” You can feel that constricting pain rising in your chest as you try to pull away from him. But he doesn’t let you go. A chuckle rumbles in his throat as his fingertips trail further up your arm, towards your delicate shoulder. His hand massages it tentatively as he teasingly whispers, “So feisty~ But you know I’ve always loved that about you.” He leans in, his warm breath caressing the side of your delicate neck.

A shiver that you try to deny runs down your spine as he whispers against your rapidly beating pulse. He smirks at you as he leans up, whispering directly into your ear. His words make that imaginary dagger in your chest twist in deeper, “I knew you’d get jealous~ But you can’t be mad at me; I was just doing as you told me~” Your face becomes hotter instantly. You grunt as you try and push him away, but Nikolai still doesn’t let you create any distance between you two, “What nonsense are you rattling on about?” You reply, scoffing at him.

You hated the fact that he could read you like a book sometimes. You hear him chuckle again as he places a fleeting kiss on your earlobe. “Oh, I know you know what I’m talking about.” His voice rumbles in his throat like a deep purr. His hand moves from your shoulder to the back of your neck, your chest pressing flush with his.

You can feel his heart beating against your own as he continues teasing, “I saw the way you grimaced on stage when the lights came back on and I wasn’t the one holding you. You know...” “...When you saw me holding that girl up~ ” Your heart squeezes again. You scoff, sounding more furious as he finally lets you push him away, “No I didn’t. You’re just making things up.” You walk away from him, heading over to your computer. You don’t sit down yet as you boot up the system, waiting for the old device to switch on. Your mind reels back to that moment in the night when for just a second his arm had wrapped around the waist of Makayla. The way his hand tightened around her before the performance continued and you were all ushered off that stage.

But that’s all it was. Part of the act. None of it was serious. It wasn't part of the routine but there was always a possibility that plans were changed. And yet you knew that touch had never happened before with any other fan or fellow idol. Nikolai was touchy but there were boundaries in place. Boundaries that he rarely pushed, unless intending to tease you. He was always respectful of any boundaries you put in place.

Which meant– You jump as the computer suddenly blares to life, the welcome page popping up. As you’re typing in your password, you gasp as you feel a pair of strong hands caressing your sides, sliding under your blouse to touch your delicate, sensitive skin.

You bite your lip as you feel the warmth of his body as he presses up against you, your fingers gliding across the keyboard as you focus on what you’re doing.

“You don’t have to hide it,” he cooed against your back, his hands trailing to your hips. “I think you’re quite adorable when you get jealous like this~” His hands slide further under your blouse, his firm fingers caressing your soft stomach as you whine, hands trembling on your keyboard. “K-Kolya, I’m trying to do something here,” you grumble, trying to focus. His fingertips slide under the bottom of your bra, finally earning a soft moan from you. With a devilish smirk, he begins gently teasing your nipples, shushing you softly. “You’ve been working so hard all week.” He leans in, his warm breath caressing your ear as you writhe faintly in his touch. “Why don’t you let me help you relax and take your mind off that Matilda girl, hm~?” Nikolai calling Makayla the wrong name made you feel a bit better. You groan as he gropes your breasts with more intent now, his large hand caressing and squeezing eagerly, his thumbs fondly brushing against your hardening nipples.

Your back arches into him as you pull away from the computer. But within a second, one of his hands moves to your upper back, pushing down. “Stay.” His hand caresses your back and breast, both trailing down to your hips. His hands begin to move further down your body, causing your legs to part the slightest. A deep chuckle rumbles in his throat as he sees your body reacting on its own as a smooth purr escapes him, “Good girl…” His hands slide your skintight shorts down. A satisfied noise escapes him as he notices the panties you’re wearing, “Aww baby…you’re mad at me but still wearing the panties I got you for our anniversary~? How precious~” “I didn’t wear them for–” Before you can finish giving him sass, you gasp as he gently smacks you on the ass. You cry out, more in surprise than pain as he clicks his tongue disapprovingly. “Now, now. There’s no need to lie, baby.” He coos softly, one of his hands snaking around to your stomach. His hand slips into your pretty white lace panties, brushing against your slit.

You lift your head, moaning again as it dips further in, his fingers stroking and rubbing against the delicate flesh as you squirm softly. His voice is an amused, yet near predatorial purr. “So be honest with me, yeah? You were jealous of that girl–” His fingers caress your growing wetness even more intensively now as one digit moves to rub your clit. You give a small, high-pitched cry as you lean over your desk more, your hands finding purchase wherever they can.

Your hips wiggle softly as he grasps your hip with his free hand, holding you steady. “--Jealous that I touched her waist like that. What did your pretty mind think, hm? What sort of wild things ran through your imagination?” “K-Kolya…” You breathlessly whisper as you try to think straight. Heat begins pooling in your stomach as you can feel your body getting hot and needy. "Come on, my pretty little songbird." He purrs against your throat, his tongue darting out, running along your madly beating pulse. Your breathing grows heavier as his slow caresses grow just a touch rougher, prompting more whines from you, "If you want me to keep going, you have to tell me the truth." You whimper, hands clutching at your desk, eyes closing in a desperate attempt to keep the truth in. But all it takes is one caress, faster than the rest to make you gasp, "Y-yes! Yes, yes, y-you're right!" "Say the words, songbird~" He teases, his finger rubbing at your clit to give you the incentive you need. "I-I was jealous! J-jealous of Makayla!" You blurt out, your legs squirming slightly as you whine needily. “Good girl, oh so good girl, fuck baby, you’re already so wet for me,” he purrs, leaning over you to nip at your earlobe. His fingers move faster for a moment before he pulls back, suddenly dropping to his knees and encouraging you to spread your legs.

You can feel the near desperation in his touch as he suddenly pulls your panties down enough to expose your soaked cunt. Like a starved man, Nikolai wastes no time getting in close. His tongue rasps and licks hungrily at your wet pussy, making you cry out softly, your grip tightening on the desk. You can feel vibrations rolling off his tongue as he groans into your pussy, your taste and scent intoxicating him like a drug. His hands squeeze your hips, holding you still as his tongue slips into your pussy. Your back arches as you throw your head back, a moan of pleasure slipping from your lips. “Kolya!! Oh fuck!!” You cry, shaking against your desk softly. You lay your upper half back down on your desk, hips jerking back faintly to meet each thrust of his tongue as you moan and whimper against your desk as he fucks you with his tongue.

After a few thrusts, it snakes back out, his tongue flicking at your clit as one of his fingers takes its place. Your squirming grows more desperate as you near the edge of release. One of your feet lifts, shaking faintly as you try to hold on. Heat and pleasure surge through your sensitive body as you writhe, left at the mercy of the idol.

You can feel his digit thrusting, probing and spreading you open as his tongue laps at your clit. Then, suddenly, he begins sucking on it. Just like that, you feel that tight coil in your stomach releasing. You tremble as you climax, your moans echoing in your study as you give Nikolai what he is seeking. He laps every drop of your release up, savouring your sweetness like it would be a blessing from a higher power.

Pleased groans escape him as he squeezes your hip, pulling back to growl against your inner thigh, peppering it with little kisses and nips, “That’s it, that’s my good girl, god you have no idea how good you taste…”

As you pant and try to catch your breath, you push your body up slightly, opening your mouth to speak only to feel two of his wet digits slipping into your mouth. You groan, tasting yourself on his fingers as a dirty shiver runs down your spine. You obediently suck and lick his fingers clean as you hear one of his hands fumbling with his belt buckle behind you as he chuckles right into your ear, “Well…now you do~” Suddenly, a familiar jingle fills the air between heavy breathing and soft moans. Nikolai clicks his tongue, grabbing his phone. He answers it, pressing his cheek against his phone to hold it in place as he talks.

You hear the instant his belt buckle hits the floor with a satisfying thump, “Make it quick, I’m busy with something.” His fingers slide out of your mouth, covering your mouth with his hand instead as you hear him speaking on the phone still, “Mhm…well what’s the time now…” He pauses, then replies, “It’s barely gone 6:30. I have plenty of time to finish my business here.” You groan into his palm as you feel his hard, throbbing erection rubbing against your wet slit. You close your eyes, shuddering as he teases you with his cock while speaking into the phone in an irritated tone, “The dinner isn’t till 9pm, why is it–” He gives you one hard thrust. “--such–” And another. “--a big–” This time, the tip of his cock nudges against your clit, making you whine against his palm. “--deal?” He grunts softly. You can practically hear him rolling his eyes as he pulls back, continuing to grind on you roughly. He clicks his tongue, groaning, “Fine. I’ll be there at 8.”

Before you can even think of asking, you hear his phone thumping softly against your desk before he grabs you by the hips, yanking you back. You shudder as his hand slips from your mouth, grasping your hip tightly, his nails digging into tender flesh as he sits back on your office chair, the plush cushion making a soft sound as he sits back, making you straddle his lap, his hard cock poking between your thighs. He pulls you in, back pressed flush against his chest as he breaths against your fluttering pulse, “You heard that, baby. I can’t stay and play with you for as long as I wanted to.” His hands run up and down your hips, squeezing your waist, his nails caressing your soft tummy as you whimper. He presses a heated kiss against your neck as he purrs into your ear, “So let’s enjoy each other, yeah~?”

He bites into your neck as he lines himself up with your entrance, slipping in with one fast thrust. The moan that escapes you is louder than you intended it to be. You feel his hands squeezing your waist tighter, a low growl of pleasure escaping him as he quickly nips at your tender neck, a shivering groan escaping him as he hisses against your neck, “Fuck…yesss. Just like that, my little songbird. God, you take me so fucking well..” He places swift nips and kisses along your neck as you whine, your hips finally starting to move as you realise Nikolai isn’t going to take action.

You lift your head, moaning softly as you feel his hands moving back up your body as if worshipping every inch of your skin with his touch and mouth. They slide under your blouse, back under your bra. He squeezes your breasts roughly, pulling you tight against him. You lean your head back, resting it gently against him as you ride him. The leather squeaks softly, the chair rattling a little as Nikolai’s grunts and groans fill your ear. His warm tongue slides against her neck, moving up to your ear, where he nibbles on your earlobe, his hands squeezing your breasts like they’re his personal stress relievers.

Pleasure floods every single one of your senses as you feel sweat starting to bead on your brows as carnal desire fills your veins. You can hear Nikolai huffing, groaning as he keeps ghosting nibbling bites and sensual licks along your ear and neck, his teeth tugging your earlobe as his fingers twist and pinch your nipples.

A strangled moan escapes you, his sudden actions making you rock a little harder on his cock, desperate and hungry for more of him. You whine as you feel his lips kissing the corner of your mouth as he whispers in a low voice. “Oh my~ Is someone feeling a little needy, are they~?” You gasp at how swiftly his hands move across your body, one snatching a handful of hair with its tight grasp, the other grabbing your hip, stopping your movements.

He chuckles darkly, lust dripping off his voice as he whispers, “Let me help you, my little love~” In one swift movement, you're pressed back against your desk, chest flush with the hard timber as you feel your boyfriend taking control. You cry out at the sudden, ravenous tempo he sets, his hips slapping against yours with reckless abandon. If you were hungry for more, then Nikolai was starving. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills your office as he keeps a firm grip on your hair, tugging your head back just enough to press his lips to yours in a searing, dominating kiss.

His tongue slips inside your mouth as you moan, his tongue swirling against yours as he slams into you animalistically, causing you to almost sob into his mouth. His cock thrusts deep into you, each thrust sending jolts of intense pleasure through every part of your body. You’re panting heavily as he breaks the kiss, your heavy, hot breaths intermingling as he lets go of your hair at last.

He pulls back, hands splaying across your lower back before they grab on tight to your hips. He grunts loudly, holding you firmly as your desk begins to shake and rattle, sending items toppling to the floor as you cling on for dear life. “K-Kolya!! Kolya!!” You cry out, panting heavily. Drunk on pleasure and reaching your tipping point, you frantically gasp, “G-gonna cum!! G-gonna–!” A deep chuckle rumbles in Nikolai’s throat as his hand snakes between your legs, taking the chance to quickly massage your clit roughly, yet quite sloppily, making you scream at how suddenly it happens. Intense waves of pleasure crash over you, your knees quaking as Nikolai’s hips jerk and stutter for just a moment as your cunt clenches around him, squeezing him tightly, tipping him over the edge at the same moment as you. He spills into you as breathless gasps escape both of you, your heavy inhales and exhales filling the room now as your lustful dance reaches its climax.

You lay against the desk for a few moments, trying to compose yourself as your knees threaten to give out. Before they can, you feel Nikolai helping you up, making you sit on your office chair. You would have to clean the mess, but for now, you focus on catching your breath. You can feel Nikolai nuzzling your hair as he murmurs, “Fuck baby…it’s been too long…” “You did that…on purpose…” You finally pant. Nikolai raises an amused brow as he listens to you, “You took Eli’s place...just so you could make me jealous...” A low purr of amusement escapes Nikolai as he keeps nuzzling your hair, breathing in your sweet perfume as he whispers in a teasing voice, “What do you mean, songbird? I was just following your request to not touch you in front of people~” His hand runs through your soft locks, running down so his fingertips can caress your back. You shiver as he pulls back, cackling softly. He leans towards your desk, opening the drawer with a soft sigh. He grabs a few tissues to clean himself up, passing a few to you as he speaks in a slightly annoyed tone, “I’d hoped we could enjoy ourselves for the entire night but–” “--There’s a dinner Simon wants you to attend,” you nod as you stand, cleaning away the mess on your chair. “It doesn’t start till 9 pm but he wants you there at 8.”

You pause as you finish cleaning. You toss the used tissue into the bin under your desk as Nikolai begins fixing his appearance. “Is it important?” A low hum escapes Nikolai as he fixes his ruffled shirt once he buckles his belt back up. His tone is more carefree now, despite how annoyed he is at having his evening interrupted, “It’s likely a publicity stunt. You know that one up-and-coming actress? The one that everyone's talking about?"

You grimace; you already knew where this was going. You nod, causing Nikolai to run a hair through his messy fringe, his hands elegantly freeing his hair from its braid, his snow white locks cascading over his shoulder loosely...Fuck. Even that was hot. He continues speaking as he grabs your comb from your desk drawer, “Well…the boss wants us to be friendly with her. Or, rather…he wants me to be friendly with her.” He combs through his fringe, tidying it up before moving on to his braid. “You know how it is–” “So he says none of us are allowed to date publicly, but he’ll throw you at any female idol or actress when it benefits him,” you bitterly reply as you get dressed. You hear your comb hit your desk as Nikolai approaches you, his hand reaching out to cup your cheek, his loose braid falling apart momentarily. “Songbird, you know this is all part of the job.” His mismatched eyes gleam with an apology unspoken. He tugs you closer, embracing you tightly.

Your arms snake around him as he hugs you close to his body, his hands caressing your back as he murmurs, “It’s all just business. If we’re seen with someone like her, our names and faces will be everywhere. We’ll be the talk of the city. Brand deals, more modelling opportunities.” You grumble into his chest, “I think your group has already made it far enough without needing to cosy up to some big shot actress…” You feel Nikolai’s body shudder against yours, a groan escaping him as he squeezes you tighter. His breath is hot on your earlobe as he whispers in a raspy voice. “Fuck baby...you know what to say to get me all riled up again…” He breathes heavily in your ear and you know it’s taking his all to not bend you over your desk again and fuck you until you’re nothing but a sobbing mess beneath his hands. Taking a deep inhale, Nikolai pulls away from you. Then he presses his fingertip to your nose, catching you by surprise. He flashes you a grin. A warm, affectionate grin, “But I assure you, this is just business, so don’t go getting your panties in a twist~” You huff, trying to swat his hand away but he pulls back quickly, cackling softly. You tug your shorts back up, fitting them back into place, nose held slightly high, “You owe me for this.” As he opens his mouth to speak, you interrupt him as your arms cross over your chest, “And I don’t mean sex or gifts or a vacation overseas.” His gaze turns more curious, more serious as he studies your features. His grin becomes a curious smile as he tilts his head at you, humming curiously, “Then what does my little songbird desire?” You’re quiet for a long while, hesitating to ask for what you truly want. You squirm in place, fiddling with your fingers. A faint heat rises in your cheeks as you reply, “I want to go on a proper date.” His mismatched eyes widen, then slowly soften as he sighs a little, “Songbird, you know we can’t be seen—” “Please.” Your sudden plea makes him pause in his tracks. His eyes stare into your own, watching as yours tremble. You’re begging with him, pleading for him not to say no, “I know we can’t be seen in public. I know we’d be risking our careers but—”

You gasp as he suddenly places a finger over your lips, gently silencing you. He leans down, bringing his voice to a soft whisper, his beautiful emerald and sapphire eyes gazing into the depths of yours, “I’ll figure something out, okay?” He stands back up straight, his hands moving back to swiftly braid his hair back up, “But I really do need to go, songbird.” You pout a little, watching as he prepares to head out for the night. Before he can, you reach out, grabbing his arm. He blinks, looking back at you as you lean up, giving him a parting kiss on the lips. It’s quick. It’s sweet. Pure. “I love you.” You whisper. He chuckles as he reaches out, ruffling your already messy hair. “I know you do, now come on. You know what’ll happen if I keep boss man waiting.” He pats your head a few more times before he slips out of your study, disappearing into the night. You frown a little as you watch him leave, lifting a hand to bite your nails anxiously.

You weren’t okay with what your manager had planned for your boyfriend tonight, but at the end of the day, you knew there was nothing you could do about it.

18 + divider by @/zeenmrala

Musical note divider by @/strangergraphics-archive

#bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd x reader #nikolai gogol x reader #nikolai x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #Flurry-of-writing

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greenorangevioletgrass · 11 months ago

Text

fever pitch (b.b.) - part one

previous part | series masterlist | next part

soundtrack: bewitched - laufeypairing: footballer!bradley x popstar!readersynopsis: you and Bradley find a secret garden and get acquainted... or maybe you already have?warnings: language, tension, fluff, angst but hypothetical?? idk, bradley is a dreamboat but what else is newnotes: the saga continues! i had a whole outline planned out, but then as i wrote it, it turned into a beast of its own and honestly, im just an employee here 🤷‍♀️ happy reading, and please let me know what you think in the comments, reblogs, and asks! i would love love loveeee to hear it from you <3

✨I do not have a taglist. Please follow @ficsbygreenorangevioletgrass and turn on the notification to get the latest update on my fics✨

“Are we even allowed in here?”

You and Bradley turn a corner from the club area into a narrow hallway. There’s a door that leads outside, thanks to the little glass pane, you can see a little terrace situation outside. Bradley tries the doorknob… and it opens.

“I mean, there’s no sign that says we can’t…” Bradley shrugs, offering his hand to guide you in.

Like Alice in Wonderland, you step into a formal English garden in the heart of this complex of townhouses-turned-clubhouse. In the middle of the bricks and noises of the city, there are beds of roses and manicured hedges and ravines over a stone arch. It’s small, but very intentional even with the mosses growing on the edges of the fountain in the middle. A Dionysus statue sits atop the fountain, as if pouring wine instead of water. A nice touch to celebrate festivities.

“Wow. This is straight out of the old movies we talked about.” You marvel at your surroundings. “Like… The Sound of Music or something.”

He chuckles. “Yeah, exactly.”

Bradley starts humming My Favorite Things as you stroll your separate ways around the garden, marveling at the evergreen shrubs and colorful perennials. You eventually meet each other again right in front of the Dionysus statue. It feels like a sign from the universe for him, so he asks,

“May I have this dance?"

He can't be real, can he? "Like a 'dance' dance?"

"Absolutely." He says it with such conviction that it's easy to forget that the deafening, thumping electronic music from the club is completely shut out from your little pocket of a park. And the only semblance of music you can hear is the rustling of leaves, the trickling of water, and the fluttering memories of Bradley's velvety tone.

So you take his hand. He pulls you in and leads you into a slow dance. You were expecting to just sway, this is surreal enough as it is, but as you dance around the fountain, you slowly notice… the slow and simple rhythm, the unmistakable one-two-three, one-two-three count… This is a waltz step.

“You are full of surprises, aren’t you?”

“I try my best.” In a swift movement, he twirls you away and reels you back in with a spin. He just prays to God or whoever is listening that you can’t actually feel his racing heart as he holds your back flush against his chest.

(You can’t. You’re too busy calming your own.)

“So… you and your friends celebrating the success at Wembley?”

His voice tickles the back of your neck, and this sudden closeness is too much for you to bear. You strategically turn around so you’re facing him again. “Oh, no. This is just my night off. I still have… three shows left here.”

“So how long will you be in town for?”

“Another week.”

“And after that…?”

“Paris.”

“Right…” he nods. “And home is in… Los Angeles?”

The question catches you off-guard for some reason. You know he’s probably just asking where you live, but something about the way he asks it makes it sound like he’s asking about… ‘home’ home. “Technically, yes.”

He makes a face. That’s a strange answer… “What do you mean, technically? I’m sure you must have at least one home base somewhere, right?”

“I do, yeah.” You smile sheepishly. “LA is my home base. But… it’s not like I have any emotional attachment to the city or anything.”

“Where’s that, then, if not LA?”

You give it a good thought… but you got nothing. “I don’t know. Ask me tomorrow.” Maybe it’s the romance of the setting—although his warm hazel eyes play a crucial role too— it makes you feel more inclined to be more honest than you usually do.

Bradley smiles. He’s so fascinated by you, but at the same time, he has an inkling that he might need to solve a few puzzles himself before you let him in. And he would gladly take his time to get there.

At the same time, slow-dancing to a hummed classic with this man away from a modern-day nightclub… It makes you wonder what kind of person he is. “And you? You’re an American in London. Where’s home for you?”

“Well, I think Virginia will always be home, but this place has really grown on me. I’ve been here for most of my adult life, and this city, the team, the people… I can’t imagine living anywhere else.”

“Virginia, huh?” you smirk—imagining him growing up near the water, a sunkissed teenage boy shooting the shit with his friends.

“Yes, ma’am. Born and raised.”

It’s only at this moment that Bradley is so much like this garden. Seemingly out of place, frozen in time while the world moves all too fast around it. But at the same time, perfectly placed, a calm in the eye of the storm. Just for this little pocket of a park.

Just for you.

“Are you normally this… Southern gentlemanly? With the suit and the sweet disposition and the waltz…”

“Honestly? Not really.” He admits bashfully. “But, I don’t know. I feel like I’m in another era with you right now.”

“Oh?”

Bradley doesn’t elaborate right away. Instead, he asks you, "Do you believe in past lives?"

Your face lights up, and he knows he just asked the right question. "I don’t know. Do you?”

"A little…" he nods, thoughtful. "Maybe not in a religious sense where you die, you get judged, and then come back as a... worm or whatever. But.. I kinda like the idea that... no one is ever really a stranger, you know? That our paths have crossed at some point."

"And you're saying we've met before?"

"Oh, yeah." Again with the conviction, this motherfucker.

“Really?” You step away from him, entering a more cerebral dance than the one that you just swayed into. Your fingers barely touch the surface of the water on the fountain, and ripples it over as you walk by. "Where do you suppose we have met before?"

He looks up at the sky, moving clouds and all, pondering his answer. "I was thinking the 40’s and 50's—you know, the Golden Age. But I think it's a little earlier than that, don't you think?"

"Like... the Roaring Twenties?"

“Yes!”

His enthusiasm amuses and fascinates you endlessly, and you never needed much to fuel your active imagination anyway. "I like that. I can see you as... a former pilot who fought in World War I. And then went on to become a poet. Or a pianist."

"I think I'm better off as a pianist.” He’s not very good with words—he’s much better plunking the ivories to get the party going.

"Fair, fair. A jazz… pianist, maybe?"

"Ooh, interesting." Bradley smiles, picturing it in his head. "And what would you be?”

"I don't know. You tell me." You lean back against the stone arch, looking at him expectantly. His answer will determine how he sees you and thus, how you feel about him. And you want him desperately to have a good answer.

"I wanna say... the starlet, or the mysterious singer—"

"Oh, come on. Even in my past life, I'm still a singer? Can't I be something else?” You groan in protest.

He chuckles, settling right across from you. "Okay, okay..." he looks at you deeply, pensively for a moment. "You're one of those socialites, who drank martinis and danced the Charleston until morning."

"Makes sense. I do love martini... and the Charleston."

"Right? You'd be one of those girls who rebelled against daddy dearest and partied all night, maybe broke a few hearts along the way."

"Including yours?"

“I don't know. You tell me."

Now it's your turn to pause and take a good look at him. You try to picture it; how boisterous and bright he must be, getting the party going by playing ragtime or samba. And you try to picture toying with his feelings; those irresistible hazel eyes watching you longingly across the room as you give some random man time of day for no other reason but to spark his jealousy...

"Nah. I think yours is the only one I didn't break. Not on purpose, at least,” you conclude definitively. The thought of leaning over the piano, sipping on cocktails while he croons out some love ditty—or sitting on his lap while he teaches you a Christmas tune at a holiday party seems way more appealing.

"What do you mean?”

"Well, you said so yourself about daddy dearest. He wanted me to marry one of his business associates, an heir to a shipping company or something.” You cheekily stroll past him, down the little path towards the fountain again.

Bradley smiles knowingly, just a step behind you. "Ah. And I'm just a lowly little pianist. What chance did we have, huh?"

You halt your steps and turn around to face him, a mischievous smirk on your face. "Would you have fought for me?"

To your surprise, he meets your gaze with a soft, unwavering look. "Without a doubt. I would have stood up to your father and told him that we were meant to be together, come hell or high water."

The phrase echoes in your head. Come hell or high water. It’s so loud, it sends you reeling and you had to sit down on the edge of the fountain. Suddenly the image of a screaming match flashes so clearly in your mind. Bradley's hand gripping years for dear life. The shallow sobs under the suffocating constrict of your dress. The tears blurring the sight of him leaving…

“But it didn't work, did it…”

He doesn't hear a question in your words —it sounds like a statement. And Bradley, ever the hopeless romantic, wants to say no. Of course it worked out, it had to. Maybe you ran away with him and lived a life of simple means. But it wouldn't have mattered, because it would've been full of music and dancing and love.

But the heartbreak in your eyes is so palpable, so...real. For a moment, it felt like the two of you actually lived it. You were just retracing the forgotten steps now.

"No.” He shakes his head softly, sitting next to you. "We tried. We fought, but... we lost.”

You know that, but it hurts to hear it anyway. Still, you can't help but continue the story. "I think I ended up marrying the businessman, do the right thing for my family. And let you go... play your music in Paris or something. Chase your dreams."

The life he imagined. Of simple means and abundant music... just no you. "I would have written so many songs about you..." he chuckles wistfully. As painful as it would've been to keep picking at old wounds, at least he would still have you in his life.

"I think I would've found your record eventually,” You pipe up, partly in self-consolation. Sure, it might be a stretch, but you're way beyond caring. You needed a piece of him, too. "And I would put it on every time I missed you. Which was every night."

The night is so still, even the leaves seem to give you a moment of privacy. Your little fingers barely touch on the edge of the bench as you sit and grieve for a tragic love story that never happened.

Eventually, though, you take a deep breath and break the silence. "Fuck. I could write a whole album based on that."

Bradley laughs at your sudden interruption, glad that you snapped him out of his reverie and brought him back to reality. "Yeah? I would be happy to help you brainstorm."

You throw him a look. It feels weird to return to this point of acquaintance after feeling like you’ve gone through lifetimes with him. But you’re glad to start anew in this life. "Is that your roundabout way of saying you wanna keep seeing me?"

"Maybe. Is it working?"

"I don't know. I don’t do maybe’s. You should ask me for real.”

Holy fuck. He closes his eyes for a moment as his heart skips. You always seem to keep him on his toes, do you? "Alright. Can I see you again? Maybe take you out to dinner?"

"I would like that. Does tomorrow night work for you?"

"Perfect." he beams at you. Fuck playing it cool, he just won himself a date with you.

"We should swap numbers so we can figure out the details.” You reach into your purse to grab your phone. And then, something dawns on you, making you smirk devilishly at him, "You wanna put your number in, or would you rather give me that friendship bracelet I heard you made for me?"

Bradley stops dead in his tracks. Of course that public declaration was gonna bite him in the ass. He was doing so well, dancing and talking and making an actual connection with you...gosh, he must've looked stupid right now. "You knew about that?" He grimaces.

"Of course. I have eyes and ears everywhere, " you sling coyly, letting him punch his numbers into your phone with great embarrassment. "That, and Natasha might have sent me a post on Instagram.”

He sighs in defeat as he hands your phone back. "Goddamn it, Natasha…"

#oooo wonder how their real first date is gonna be like!#bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw x reader #footballer!bradley #footballer!bradley x popstar!reader #top gun imagine #top gun au #ava writes #fever pitch

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kaylopolis · 2 months ago

Text

Alastor's Shadow (18+) - Paris: Chapter Eighteen

Alastor x F!Reader

Synopsis: There’s a new Overlord in town and it isn’t the Radio Demon. Six years after you fell into Hell, you have finally earned your seat at the table as Pentagram City’s newest and baddest and with the Extermination coming six months earlier than planned, it is now time to implement your ultimate endgame. After all, who doesn’t love a bit of power and chaos? Your plan brings you to the doorstep of the Hazbin Hotel as Charlie’s newest Redeemer, but who you find waiting for you will not only turn your entire plan upside down but also challenge your grab for power…

Tag List: Slow burn, rivals to lovers, eventual smut

Masterlist Link: Masterlist

(Let me know if you want to be added to the Tag List!)

____________________________________________

Dear Hoteliers,

Why 2 alternate endings? A few reasons; the main reason is because I wrote this first part with Angel and Mikaela and FELL IN LOVE with it. It was so cute and adorable I had to include it somehow. Also, because not everyone loves a pregnancy trope. I, particularly, was genuinely torn. I could not decide how I wanted things to end. "My Fawn and My Shadow" will include a pregnancy trope but "Paris" will not.

I will say, the epilogue I have planned for "My Fawn and My Shadow" had me crying (were they happy tears? were they sad tears? Is she foreshadowing? IDK!) - but, that being said, to each their own. Should you choose to read both, be aware that some sections are straight up copy and paste. The Epilogues will obviously vary greatly.

P.S. Ignore the timeline for the pregnancy trope. In reality, this is not how biology works. But someone *cough* author *cough* forgot to factor in the timeline by the time she got to this chapter... It was part of my original outline, but I got carried away *insert upside-down smiley face here*

<3 Stay smutty

Paris: Chapter Eighteen

Content Warning: Self Harm

T-3 hours until the portal opens…

“Okay, okay, I got this!” Collin breathed.

Cletus banged him atop his head, “Just open the door!”

The sheep shot a dirty look at the… baby?... before drying his sweaty hooves on his overalls.

This was it. This was the moment Collin had been waiting for his entire life. He has only ever seen the famous General at a distance and worshipped her from a far during meetings and through photographs. He had every single one of her fan club t-shirts and collector’s pins. He knew her battle strategies inside and out and scored perfect at every trivia night. He was the ultimate fan-girl and this was his moment to shine.

And he was terrified.

“Oh, my gosh!” Kennie shoved past him. “I’ll do it!” She prostrated before pulling the bedroom door open.

The group froze, stunned by the sight of the yellow-eyed Angel ready and waiting for them on the other side. Mikaela Morningstar sat in a clothed chair perfectly perched in the entryway to her bedroom. The Angel had just finished the top laces of her leather boots before the Cherubs burst through the doorway.

Mikaela had been waiting for them.

Collin’s jaw audibly hit the floor at the sight of the warrior, legs crossed, one eyebrow perched in question, staring down at the three of them. She was like a goddess in material form - not to disrespect the Maker, of course. Her beauty practically radiated off of her in golden light as captivating as her irises. Although she had changed her hair and her wings were tucked out of the way, she was a vision. Collin couldn’t help but drool at the sight of her.

“About time the three of you showed up,” the Angel laughed. “Talk about keeping a girl waiting.”

“You…” Cletus stumbled over his words. “You knew we were here?”

“Knew?” The Angel tipped her head in question. A habit she had picked up from a dear… friend. “You’ve been following me for days. Nifty’s collection of wool can only grow so much before a girl gets suspicious.” Mikaela laughed it off as if it was a joke, but Keenie’s head was still very, very sore.

The Cherubs had no answer for her.

“What can I do for you?” With hands perched in her lap, the General inspected the three of them, lazily soaking in their forms as they collectively entered the room.

Wow. Mikaela Morningstar had expected them. Well, duh! Of course! She was God’s General! How could she not have seen them coming? She probably knew about everything: the phone call from Velvette, the orders from Rachel, their banishment from Heaven. She was, after all, an Archangel. Collin still couldn’t comprehend the situation.

“Ms. Morningstar,” Collin began. Did he sound as nervous as he felt? “We have been sent from Heaven to return you to the Seraphim.”

The Angel blinked, but didn’t respond. Her face remained neutral as Collin spoke and even for a few moments after. He wiped his hooves on his pants again. The Cherub was thoroughly drenched in anxious sweat, which, hopefully, no one noticed.

“Why?”

“Why?” Kennie shoved her way forward. “Because you belong there? You’re Mikaela, the General, Heaven’s Archangel. You’ve been gone for over a hundred years doing…”

“God’s work.” Mikaela interrupted the sheep.

“What?” Cletus asked.

The Archangel chuckled. “You didn’t seriously think I just ran away from Heaven on a whim, did you?”

The three Cherubs looked at each other for an answer, but it was the sheep who spoke first. “No, of course not!”

“Thank you, Collin,” Mikaela smiled.

The Cherub’s heart jumped right out of his chest. “You know my name!?”

“Of course,” her eyes softened. “Why wouldn’t I know one of my biggest fans?”

____________________________________________

Yesterday…

“Hello, thank you for calling, C.H.E.R.U.B., how may we bless you today?”

“Hi! I’m calling about a loved one back on Earth who needs some help. It seems he’s lost his way a bit and I’d really rather not see him down here.” You twirled the cord in your hand.

Alastor sat across from you, a cup of tea in hand, one leg crossed over the other as he enjoyed the dyling light of day.

“Of course! Can I get a name?”

“Well, actually… I’m quite protective of him, you see, and I want to know that you are sending your best.” The sweetness in your voice was practically sickening, but it made Alastor chuckle. “I was wondering who would be going. Would it be the three from the television commercial?”

“Cletus, Collin, and Keenie? By golly, no! They don’t work for us anymore.”

“Interesting…” You smiled.

“Can I get the name of the person who needs a blessing?”

“No,” and you hung up the receiver.

Alastor chuckled as he sipped his tea. “You make this look too easy, my doe. If it weren’t for the circumstances, you'd be running the place.”

This place... As in all of existence.

You grabbed your jasmine tea and clanked your cup with his. “How unfortunate the plan is to destroy it all instead.”

____________________________________________

Now...

The Cherub nearly feinted.

The Archangel leaned in, speaking to the sheep directly. “You have to promise to keep everything I tell you a secret. No one can know that I am here.”

Collin blinked the stars from his eyes, “Of course! I would never!”

In a whisper, Mikaela continued, “I’m on a secret mission from God. I can’t go into any detail, naturally…”

“Naturally!” Collin was nodding his head so hard he could have been mistaken for a bobble head.

Mikaela leaned in a whispered, “... I’m here to find Roo.”

Collin stopped nodding. “Roo?”

“Roo.” Mikaela repeated, as if that answered all of their questions.

“Wait!” Cletus interrupted once more. “You’re telling us that you are supposed to be here? Cavorting with demons!”

“Shhh,” Mikaela shushed. “Yes.”

Keenie scratched her sore head. “To find someone named Roo?”

“She’s the biggest threat against Heaven. Rumor has it that she’s planning an uprising against God. That’s why he left with me and went into hiding. Couldn’t have him unprotected while I hunted down this rebel.”

Too much information? Nope! Who the fuck is going to believe a bunch of banished Cherubs anyway? They can’t get back to Heaven and no one in Heaven would take them seriously even if they did. Negatives of fucking up with the Upstairs Management but a positive for you.

You could have told them any story that convinced them to leave you alone, and it would be no sweat off your back.

“Oooooooh,” Collin nodded. “That makes so much sense!”

“What!?” Keenie and Cletus echoed each other.

“What?” Mikaela looked confused. “Do you think I’m lying?” She laughed. “Come now. I may be surrounded by demons, but I am still an Angel.”

The three Cherubs blinked at her.

“Oh.” Cletus awkwardly scratched his large head.

Heaven Natives are so naive. Were you this gullible way back when?

The Angel adjusted the tie on her leather bracer. “And the three of you are interfering with my plan.”

“What!?” Collin gawked.

“I can’t exactly have Heaven stalking my every move while I’m on the job,” Mikaela rises from her chair, a towering figure over the tiny Cherubs.

“Right! Right!” Collin was already headed for the door.

Mikaela quickly ushered the other two out, ignoring the look of disbelief on their faces.

“Thanks for understanding, guys.”

And then door shut behind them.

Collin continued to drool in the direction of the doorway.

“Now what?” Keenie asked as she dragged him by the collar down the hall.

“She’s so cool,” Collin gawked.

Cletus smacked his face and rubbed the tension from his temples. “We return to Earth. I need time to think about this and I’m starving. I sure as fudge am not eating anything down here…”

____________________________________________

You shut the door behind them.

“See,” you turned to the shadow at the back of the room. “I told you they’d believe me.”

Alastor materialized from the darkness. With his cane in hand, he snaked the other around your waist and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

This was not the first time you had run into one of Father’s minions. With Eve’s wild party streak, the two of you didn’t exactly keep a low profile. In fact, it would be odd for the two of you to not run into one of the Ishim or even a few Cherubs while they were on the job. You were recognized - because of course - and typically played it off as a happenstance run in while on a mission.

After all, the rumors in Heaven were that you were on some top secret mission with Father anyway. What were they more likely to believe: you were being a good little “Golden Girl” or playing Armageddon with Eve?

Eve on the other hand, either slept with the Holy invader if able, convinced them she was mortal if they were too young to know her face, or simply disappeared leaving you to fend for yourself.

What a friendship the two of you had…

“I never doubted you, my doe,” the demon mumbled into your hair.

You grabbed for Alastor’s lapels to pull him down and…

“Alastor, what’s in your coat pocket?” Your fingers met something hard and boxy.

The demon ignored your question. Instead, from the Void, Alastor pulled a hair clip - a new one. The metal was red, and pointed, with a small “A” pressed into one of the tongs.

“I had Carmilla make it,” the demon holds the clip between the two of you, pushing you back so you are no longer pressed so closely together.

The red was a perfect match to Alastor’s eyes.

How intentional…

“Thank you,” you reached for it, but he pulled away.

The demon was distracting you, but you allowed it. Your nerves were shot anyway and Alastor felt… off…

“Allow me?” He offered.

Turning towards the mirror above the dresser, Alastor flipped your hair into a bun, clipping it at the back of your head perfectly square with your shoulders.

You stared at the demon’s reflection in the mirror, noting the lack of music playing on his radio, noting the loss of static in his voice. He was nervous…

“Al, everything changes after today. This is where the Endgame plan truly begins.” You tested the waters to see if that was what was bugging him.

“Hmm,” the demon continued to inspect your hair, his mind clearly stuck on something else. Not Armageddon plaguing his thoughts?

“But,” you turned to him, your back leaning against the dresser. “If I know war, and I do, there is always a lull after a battle. Perhaps, if just for a few days, we get out of here?”

“Oh?”

“I have safe houses in every Ring of Hell and in a few major countries on Earth - including an emergency backup in Heaven if things end up truly terrible… I have an apartment…” God, why were you so nervous? “In France.”

The demon’s eyes sparked.

“It’s in Place de l'Estrapade, not a far walk from the Pont Neuf bridge, just across the way from Jardin du Luxembourg*. I know it’s not Louisiana, but… There’s this adorable bakery in the square that I know you will love and…”

The demon swallowed your words with his lips. “Mes valises sont déjà faites. My bags are already packed.”

Right, why did you ever think Alastor Hartfelt would turn down a trip to France?

Alastor’s shoulder slacked just a bit.

Then it hit you.

It was the after that was bugging him. After the battle that is. He comforted you last night in regards to your qualms with the battle, but funny how facing imminent death felt like an everyday for the Overlord.

But the after made him nervous.

The after…

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

“You lovebirds done shackin’ up o’ what?” Angel screamed from the other side of the wall.

“Seriously?” Husk scoffed. “You called me up here for this?”

“What? Come on, Whiskers, you love spendin’ time with me,” Angel teased.

You could practically hear the disbelief on Husk’s face through the door, “I thought you wanted me to help you bring something down, not hold your fuckin’ hand because you’re too scared of the Boss.”

“I ain’t scared of nothin’!” The spider demon protested.

You smiled at Alastor, grateful for the spontaneous distraction. The demon pressed a kiss to your cheek and melted into shadow.

Throwing the door open, both Husk and Angel jumped back in surprise before they realized it was just you.

“Ha!” Angel crosses his arms. “See yous was scared, too!”

“I..!” Husk’s face turns red. “I was scared because she fuckin’ appeared outta nowhere, not because of…”

“Me,” Alastor melted from the floor, appearing behind the two of them.

Angel jumped into you, grabbing onto your arm for support, while Husk remained utterly unphased.

“Yeah, him,” the cat crossed his arms.

You giggled at the sight of the two of them, the laughter breathing life back into your chest.

Just don't think about it... Yeah? Yeah! Don't think about it. Everything is going to be okay! It's fine. Everything is fine!

Taking a deep breath, you planted a smile on your face. “Come on, boys, we have an army to ready.”

You snuck a glance at Alastor, who looked distracted, wholly unaware of the nerves in your belly. Whatever was captivating him, you were thankful for it. It was quite uncharacteristic of him, but then again, you’ve never seen Alastor in the hours leading up to battle.

For whatever reason, you were disappointed in the last few remaining private moments you might possibly have had with the demon. Not that you were expecting a big declaration of love from him.

Holy shit, you still hadn’t even told him you love him!

Oh, no, no, no, no.

You put the brakes on.

You’d been so distracted by the Cherubs that you completely forgot about everything from last night! “Al, I need to talk to you-“

“There she is! There’s my little tomatuh!” Rosie had you in a hug so tight one would argue it was a chokehold.

“Rosie, dear! How delightful to see you!” Alastor pressed a kiss to the top of her hand. “Is that a new scarf? It looks astonishing on you darling, absolutely astonishing!”

The Overlord’s eyes shined like stars, “Oh! Al, stop! You flatter me.” Rosie ran a hand through her new purple boa.

“It isn’t flattery if it’s true!” Al came to stand beside you, his hands wrapped around the top of his cane.

The smell of the forest after rain calmed your nerves.

It’s okay. After. You can tell him after because there will be an after.

There will be an after.

Heading down the hall you ignored Angel's worried eyes on you. You ignored Alastor's shadow swirling about your feet with concern. And you ignored Husk's offer for a drink. For you had too many things to focus on right now...

A battle to win...

An identity to keep hidden...

A Human Sinner who still didn't know how you truly felt about him...

Welcome to the Endgame.

____________________________________________

T-1 minute until the portal opens…

“This is it,” you press your forehead into Alastor’s. “Al, I -”

“Shh, my doe. Entre deux cœurs qui s’aiment, nul besoin de paroles,” and then the demon melted into shadow, to find his place atop the Hotel.

Goddamit, the demon switched between French and English so fast you couldn’t keep up half the time.

Charlie appeared next to you, a hand on your shoulder. “You’ll get a chance to tell him.”

You blinked. But how did she…?

“Uh,” Vaggie cut in. “I don’t mean to break up this moment, but we have Angels incoming.” The ex-Exorcist pointed her spear at the sky, where a large portal had cracked through the walls of reality.

Fixing your hood atop your head, you summoned your two short blades from the Void and readied yourself next to the Princess.

On the other side of the portal, you could make out the beautiful golden glow of Heaven. God, you did not miss it.

Two figures stepped through: Adam and Lute.

And then the onslaught began - but not before Alastor summoned his dark shield. The mass of magic covered the Hotel in a dome. Some of the Exorcists made it through, but the less fortunate ones bounced off in a wave of broken bones.

“It’s working!” Charlie screamed.

Until it wasn’t.

With a flick of Adam’s wrist the shield melted and then the Exorcists fell through.

It was a dance of a battle. A beautiful pirouette of savagery and desperation, impregnating the air with the stench of golden iron.

You would have found yourself riding the high of battle had you not had Charlie to look after. Yes, Vaggie could well protect her on her own but it was the deal with Lilith that ensured no harm came to the Princess.

As the Princess shot sparkles you shot daggers. As she sang apologies, you delivered death. Constantly you were forced to grab her by the wrist and twirl her from danger. It was hard work, one that captivated all of your attention.

Good. You needed the distraction.

BOOM!

Cherries’ explosions began, the next line of defense before the Exorcists reached Sir Pentious and his battery of cannons.

This was good! Things were looking good!

Fuck you might actually all make it out of this thing.

BAM!

The next thing you knew, you were on the ground, a pain so powerful ripping through your core it blinded every sense, every fiber of your being.

Green light exploded from the scar which cut you from neck to hip, a beacon of agony which temporarily halted the onslaught from Heaven as Human Sinners and Angels alike were forced to shield their eyes. The wall of light shot up into the atmosphere of Hell before dispersing into a rainstorm of sparks that fell upon the whole of Pentagram City.

You felt, rather than saw, hands upon you. The green had burned your retinas, completely blinding you. Your body healed fast, however, but not fast enough to clearly make out the fuzzy grey/red blob shaking your shoulders.

“Come on, kid! Come on! Don’t quit on me!”

The pain numbed your body, but your Angelic blood quickly fought against it. Your fingers and toes tingled as your mind reset itself over and over again. Where are you? What happened? The memory of pain threatened to spill as the ability to breathe found your lungs, as your eyes remembered how to blink.

“Holy Hell, what da fuck was that!?”

“I don’t fucking know, but both Boss and her went down at the same time.”

“What da fuck kind of Voodoo shit did he do ta ‘er?”

You forced your mind to clarity, forced the blurriness into - somewhat - sharper objects. A vague outline of Husk and Angel came into view, along with a background of Exorcist Angels flying overhead. The fighting had resumed despite the interruption.

“Husk?” You mumbled. Grabbing onto the cat’s paw, you slowly pulled yourself into a sitting position. Despite the pain which had surged through your scar, no wound was visible. You hadn’t been struck after all. “What…?”

There was a pull behind your navel - it was weak, oh-so weak.

Alarm bells immediately went off.

Alastor.

Without a thought, you shoved away from the cat demon and shot into the air, not caring that your wings were now on full display for the entire Angelic Army to view. Not caring that the hood Charlie helped make you was now shredded to pieces.

You hit the roof, landing practically on top of the red and black mass crumbled in a heap of blood. Using your black wings, you attempted to shield as much of Alastor as you could.

You couldn’t make out Alastor completely, your vision was still sluggish to return despite you willing your blood to heal as fast as it could, but you could feel him. You could feel his heart beating wildly, feel the pain with every breath, feel the one ounce of panic the Overlord allowed himself to feel in this moment as he watched you take up a defensive fighting stance over his prone form.

The demon was hurt and bad.

Like a panther protecting her wounded mate, you unleashed the full force of your power. Dark and twisted horns grew from your skull as you morphed into your demon form. A spiked tail uncurled from your backside, your fingernails sharpened into claws, and your fangs elongated to a point. The sclera of your eyes flashed black as the rune on your back was unlocked, the text from the Book of Knowledge melting into your hands, forming an exoskeleton of Newtonian fluid that flowed over your appendages.

As your vision healed, the Angel’s stupid helmet sharpened, a look of pure shock reflected in the metal. Adam had his guitar and Alastor’s blood was still fresh as it dripped off the blade.

“Don’t…” Alastor protested, but his sentence was cut off with a cough.

“Mikaela?” Adam’s jaw dropped.

Your only response was a low growl. Pure instinct had kicked in. You were more animal than Angel.

You felt the coldness of Rolf wrap around your ankle, but it was barely a whisper compared to how solid the shadow normally felt. The shadow tugged, threatening to whisk you away from the rooftop, but be it the weakening of Alastor’s magic or your stubbornness, you did not move.

“Holy shit, it is you! How you doing, sister?” The First Man smiled, lowering his sword.

Behind you, you could feel the blood flowing from Alastor’s chest as real and as solid as it would your own. It only added to the panic and anger and desperation you were feeling in this moment.

“Where’s Eve?” The Angel looked around as if the Second Woman might turn the corner at any moment and join the conversation.

“Dead,” you bore your teeth and growled, your voice laced with Alastor’s radio static.

“What?” Adam did a double-take.

You pulled your sword from the Void, your blue fire licking the steel’s surface as small green bouts of static danced its way down your arm and disappeared into the heat. “And you’re next,” you threatened, your voice filled with static.

“Wait,” Adam narrowed his eyes, his pupils darting back and forth between the two of you as he slowly put the pieces together. “Wait. Wait. Wait.” He put up a hand. “You’re defending this loser?”

You growled, your teeth itching to sink into flesh.

Kill him. Kill him. Kill him. Kill him. Kill him. A voice rang in the back of your head.

“Woah, there, sister. We’re on the same fucking team!” Adam had a look of pure terror on his face.

From your crouched position on the ground, you moved forward.

Adam immediately dropped his sword and began backing up. “Listen! Listen! Listen!” He stammered. “Let’s just take a fucking second and talk like bros. Okay?” His laugh was strained. “I’m sure there’s a perfectly good explanation for why you’re down here defending the scum of existence? Ha, ha. Right?”

Kill him, the voice commanded.

You growled again and attempted to take another step forward, but a clawed hand wrapped around your tail and tugged. Finally, you turned to face Alastor and the sight knocked you out of your bloodthirsty trance.

The demon was pale, a deep gouge sliced right across his chest in an exact mirror image to your injury from Velvette. You felt the anger flee from you then, only to be replaced with pure terror. You met Alastor’s stern eye and the look he shot you stopped you dead in your tracks.

But it was already too late. All of Heaven had seen. Mikaela Morningstar was alive and well in Hell, defending Lucifer’s daughter in a battle against Heaven. You had killed Exorcists. A war was brewing, and you were a part of it.

The demon shuttered out a pained breath, one you felt reverberate through your own chest. You dropped your sword, the steel popping back into the Void before it even made contact with the ground. Falling to your knees before Alastor, you cupped his face in your hands and pressed a soft but shaky kiss to his forehead.

“What, the fuck?” Adam gawked behind you.

Every part of you was screaming to rip the Angel limb from limb, but you fought the instinct, and instead channeled that energy into the connection that had ripped open between you and Alastor. You let your magic flow through your inky fingers and into the demon, willing his heart to beat faster, to slow the blood seeping from his wounds, to staunch the pain in his chest.

Alastor’s eyes fluttered closed as he took a deep breath, already the color returning to his cheeks.

You turned to Adam then, your black sclera burning pure hatred into the Angel’s heart. “I won’t be the one to kill you today, Adam.”

“I am so fucking confused,” the Angel scratched his head.

“Adam!” Charlie appeared atop the rooftop, royally pissed as she hung from the Hotel sign.

And with that, you shadowed the two of you from the rooftop, landing in the only place you could think of to go right now: Alastor’s radio tower.

Atop the balcony, you pulled the clip from your hair and slit open your wrist, dripping a waterfall of golden blood into Alastor’s wounds.

“Stop,” the demon tried to shove your hand away, but he was too weak at this moment to do anything other than lay there and breathe.

Clenching your jaw shut, you didn’t let up until you watched the first stitches of skin begin to form. Jesus Christ, the wound was deep. It had cut through several ribs but, thankfully, had not nicked his heart. Alastor would have been dead before you had even landed on that rooftop had it gone any deeper.

Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! You knew! You fucking knew this was going to happen!

A tear fell from your cheek and landed in the mixture of black and gold liquid swirling atop the demon’s chest.

“Stop,” Alastor said more forcefully. The demon wrapped a hand around your wrist, the golden liquid bubbling through his fingers. He pulled you down into him and pressed his forehead into yours. “I’m alright, my doe.”

“This is my fault,” your voice cracked. Green static danced across your skin, your demon form still out in full force. Sucking in a breath, you forced yourself to your feet. Sinking your inky hands into your hair, you paced the floor, your wings dragging behind you.

Alastor’s magic jumped off your form in sparks. Which was impossible but you didn’t have the mental room to even consider why.

Alastor had almost died! He could’ve died! Adam almost killed him!

“My doe,” Alastor attempted to sit up, but the pain from the wound was too much, his body demanding every ounce of power to heal.

“My fault,” you shuttered. “My fault. My fault. My fault!” You bent over the handrail and threw up.

Alastor jumped to his feet then, one hand wrapped around his middle to stop his insides from spilling out. “Mikaela!”

Using his cane for support, the demon forced himself to stand next to you. His red irises bled into your soul, his brow crinkled with worry.

Your entire body was shaking as he wrapped his arms around you. “It was not your fault.”

“I almost lost you,” you mumbled into his coat jacket, drenched in blood.

____________________________________________

Somewhere Else in Hell…

“Ha, ha,” Striker plucked the cigar from his mouth and tapped the lit end into the cement lining of the roof.

The imp pulled the rifle to his shoulder and aligned the scope with his eye. “Too easy.”

And pulled the trigger.

____________________________________________

You saw the bullet before you heard it.

BANG!

The metal object soared towards you as if in slow motion, the iconic swirls of Angelic Steel clearly coating its surface.

But the bullet meant for you did not hit its mark.

For Alastor shoved you at the last moment, appearing between you and the shooter.

Red irises met yours, “Mourir d’amour, vivre de haine…”

The bullet met its mark right between Alastor’s eyes.

Dying for love…

“Nooo!”

The demon went down, his cane smacking against the metal balcony in an explosion of green sparks.

You spun, immediately knowing where the bullet originated from. You didn’t care who or what was on the other end. Fuck you didn’t even care why.

Kill, the voice echoed as a blast of dark ink shot out from your hand. Like a wave of a tsunami, the mass collided with the building the shooter was perched atop of, taking out the top twenty floors. You swung down, collapsing the building in on itself in one fell swoop.

Whoever it was - plus the inhabitants of the building - were dead.

“Alastor!” You screamed as you collapsed onto the ground next to him. Dark blood pooled beneath his head. The wound between his eyes steamed with green as his magic desperately fought to heal.

But fought in vein.

You watched as Alastor’s eyes fogged with the veil of death.

“No! No! No!”

And felt his Soul fade from his body.

“Alastor!”

You screamed. You begged. You cried.

“Don’t!”

You even heard yourself begging with God to let him live.

“You promised you wouldn’t leave me again!”

But you could do nothing as his Soul slipped from his body…

“No! Don’t! You can’t!”

… and faded from this world entirely.

“Don’t leave…”

Alastor was dead.

“Don’t leave me…”

____________________________________________

You don’t know how long you lay there.

Minutes?

Hours?

Days?

Years?

Long enough that Alastor had grown cold next to you. Long enough that the blood began to crust against your skin. Long enough that your joints hurt and your body begged to move.

He was gone.

Alastor was gone.

You curled into him, praying somehow your warmth might leech into him and warm his cold body back to life. Praying he’d brush a hand through your hair and tell you everything was going to be alright.

Praying this was just a dream.

Praying that you were the one dead instead.

Praying that you were both dead and this was some sick version of Purgatory Father had concocted for you as a punishment.

“Al…” You mumbled into his jacket, your fingers curling around his lapel as if he would fade beneath your touch entirely.

Too soon. Too fast.

And all your fault.

All your fault…

And then your fingers brushed something hard.

In his jacket, hidden away in a pocket you didn’t know he had, was a small leather box.

Fuck.

No. No. No. No. No.

Sitting up with alarm, you dropped it on the balcony and scooted away.

That better not be what you think it is.

Open it.

You jumped.

A young woman with hair as brown as mud and eyes to match sat across from you. Cross legged, arms folded neatly in her lap as her curls pooled down her back, the girl stared intently at the small leather box.

Open it, she repeated.

You didn’t respond, your mind was too preoccupied with trying to comprehend how this was happening.

It’s a ring, obviously, but you already knew that. You think that’s why he was so distracted today? She motioned to the blood. How pathetic…

“Shut up!” You bit, your throat raw from years of crying.

Ouch. Is that anyway to greet an old friend? Oh, wait, sorry. Were we even friends? I mean, you did murder me and all. Did Alastor…

“I said, shut up, Eve!”

Her eyes found the box once more. Do you think he’s an emerald man or a diamond man? Emerald is more classic for the 30s but diamonds! Ugh, I’m just dying to know, aren’t you?

She went for the box, but you were faster. You held it against your heart, “Don’t touch it!”

Eve gasped, Is that why he asked you to take him to Louisiana to visit his Mother!? Awww, he stayed behind to tell his Mom about the ring. How sweet. Too bad she wasn’t actually there. - ya know, being in Heaven and all. But I suppose it’s the thought that counts.

“Why are you here?” The words seeped out from behind clenched teeth.

She smirked. Because you let me out.

You followed her eyes to your hand, still black from the ink. You never sealed the power away after desecrating the building.

Fuck, you were still in your demon form.

You’ve never let me out this long before. Figured it was time to stretch my legs and finally introduce myself. She stood and made her way to you, stretching her limbs as she went. Holding a hand out to you she made to help you stand.

Hello, I’m the Book of Knowledge, but you can call me Eve and we are going to have so much fun together.

You didn’t take her hand.

Your eyes found the dark jacket seeped in blood laying a few feet away.

You went to him, your fingers brushing the curls away from his face. With his eyes closed he looked as if he was sleeping - so peaceful.

Even in death, Alastor smiled.

The girl frowned, clearly annoyed that you weren’t giving her your full undivided attention. What about power and chaos, and all that jazz? What about revenge!?

To power and chaos…

“There is no power and chaos without him.” Pressing a kiss to his forehead, you whispered, “I love you, too.”

Wait, so that’s it? Eve threw her hands in the air. The plan is over? The big Endgame we’ve been planning for over one hundred years is just done!?

You stood, “New plan.”

New plan? Eve scrunched her nose. What new plan?

You smiled softly, the dark ink slowly invading your arm, “The one where everyone dies.”

Oh! Oh! Oh! I like that plan. Where do we start?

You turned to the pile of rubble 100 yards away. “Greed.”

-> Paris: Epilogue

Annnnnnnd yet another cliff hanger. Come on guys you know me by now. Not everything is as it seems!

Tagged Hoteliers: (Let me know if you wish to be added!):

@sirens-and-moonflowers @saccharine-nectarine @wonderlandangelsposts @mommymilkers0526 @alastor-the-radio-demons-blog @eris-norwega @goyablogsstuff @missgirlsstuff

@sillywormtrixareforkids @its-a-dam-blue-brick @cloverresin20 @blue-bird251 @speedycoffeedelight @littlebluefishtail @sawi1987 @mopeyghost @beelz3bub @fraugwinska @minamilinaqueen @demoarah @diffidentphantom @divineknightmare @animecrazy76 @sleepykittycx @graunta @reath-solia @satansdaughter123 @mysticatto @freshonyourpages @chibistar45 @rapunzelbro @stephydearestxo

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crooked-wasteland · 4 months ago

Note

I just saw your essay on the codependency of FizzOzzie and it cleared up a lot of things I've been thinking about this ship and to be honest, I myself thought it was the most healthiest ship in the whole show even better than the trash that Stoliz is but well... (btw, I was trying to scroll through tumblr to find it but can you just link it for me so I coud read it again)?

It also brings me to an idea of the possibility brung up in two fics each with different ideas:

#1 if Hazbin's events every leak in Helluva's since they're the same universe, there's a possibility that Lucifer would want to have precautionary heirs for the defense of Hell and outright force Ozzie and any other relationships with lowerclass apart since it's "not compatible with angelic DNA" or some thing, so Ozzie could in fact leave Fizz because of his status

#2 Ozzie getting tired of Fizz... Ozzie is the sin of Lust after all and Lust can be ever-changing and capricious in its nature as a sin. Ozzie’s character, embodying Lust, might lead to a fluctuating commitment level, influencing his interactions and relationships. In biblical lore, he did end up causing a lot of sinful things like fucking a human named Sarah or so I remember?

Again this is the same guy who humiliated Blitzø in Ozzie, S2 just rewrote him completely (btw, in my rewrite I'mma change him to be more evil and instead give the whole "lovey-dovey Sin" idea to Satan who is female and thinks Asmodeu's "fake-love" is like a slap in the fact to her idea of realistic and true romance)

I'd just feel like Fizz would be better off with Blitzø tbh or Striker or all in a threesome... the possibilities are endless, and why is the show making love seem too fairytale and unrealistic?! Like Blitzø shouldn't have to fuck Stolas just because he was his arranged playmate for just one day??? The show did the childhood friends trope dirty and would be better if Stoliz was a thing until mid-teens broke up for [insert reason] and reconnect but honestly, Stolas should've had his own seperate season/arc dedicared to himself if HB was an anthology show

Also the fact that Asmodeus couldn't just burn the contract, one-shot the lawyer and go on a rampage to save Fizz is just beyond me... the Sins are supposed to be these scary demon lords so why aren't they, hm?

Sorry for rambling and what do you think or want to add?

Absolutely here you go.

The consistent failure of Vivziepop is to commit to a mature story. She describes her own protagonists as "Deeply flawed but understandably traumatized people who just need love to fix them" while the villains of her shows are "irredeemable" (and women, but that's a tangent).

I mentioned before that trying to use the excuse of the setting being Hell and playing that out to the logical conclusion would end up exactly like Good Omens. The whole moral of said show being that imperfect humanity is worth saving, that life is worthy and beautiful for its own sake of existence. That is why the story of Good Omens uses the Bible, angels, and demons to tell it's story, to make that point.

Why is Helluva Boss/Hazbin Hotel set in Hell? What is being said by the plot, themes and story? So far we have that demons are better people than the Angels in Hazbin. That sacrifice is the only virtue worthy of redemption and thus reinforces backwards Christian ideals of penance.

Personally, I would have made Hell less absurd. Less a place of debauchery and chaos and more a mere continuation of life. We see in the Hazbin Pilot a character falls from the sky and says "I'm alive?" Before being hot by Travis' car. The point being that people just transition from one life to the next and in that they keep living life the way they always have.

My personal criticisms of the series' use of Hell is that it established this idea that people only behave if they have a god to fear. Once in Hell, there is no salvation, so why bother. It's like a Christian asking an atheist why they wouldn't commit murder if they don't believe in God. The answer is that people like order and security. People dying would seek to maintain their status quo from life. A lack of salvation wouldn't change that for them.

And frankly, I wouldn't have redemption be a thing. This story and its messages are actively devalued by the act of redeeming sinners when the Angels are just the same as them. By having Hell just be a warped continuation of life on Earth, it makes the message more universal: Life is Hell. Life is suffering in a way Hell can never hope to be. Physical anguish and torment for all eternity can never amount to the pain of the fleeting and the terror of change and uncertainty.

I would have made it impossible to be redeemed because the fact is, regardless what you believe happens after death, what we know we have is life. We fear death so much we have created salvation throughout history, the wish to keep living forever in some way. But, especially for young people, life is harder now than ever before. It's more terrifying and uncertain and cruel and uncaring.

So if life is Hell, how do you be happy?

That would have been my thesis for the show. The message underneath is all about finding happiness in the absence of salvation. Even the idea that maybe salvation is something we should reject to really feel what it means to be alive. Giving up on our deaths and seeking our own fulfillment, and in that finding community, love, and hope. To see true humanity as something selfish and kind at the same time.

That's how I would have taken the concept.

#hazbin critical #helluva boss criticism #helluva boss critical #hazbin hotel critical #vivziepop critical #ask and answer

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tortillamastersblog · 1 month ago

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♕ At Last | Lena Luthor ♕

Pairing: Lena Luthor x reader

Warnings: suggestive content, mild cursing

Summary: After everything you and Lena have been through, you finally get married. . .

No Matter What series epilogue, but it can be read as a standalone

DC Masterlist

_______________________________________________

I’m tired, my leg is sore and the champagne I had earlier is making my head hurt ever so slightly, but I’ve never been as happy as I am now.

The string quartet we booked has left a long time ago, replaced by a Spotify playlist that is still playing acoustic songs over the speakers.

Most of the guests have gone home as well, leaving only Lena and me on the dance floor. Kara, Alex, and Kelly are the only ones left sitting at one of the tables nearby, chatting quietly and sharing some cake.

“I can’t believe you’re actually my wife now,” I whisper as I sway from side to side with Lena in my arms.

She lifts her head off my shoulder and smiles softly, her green eyes sparkling even though I can tell she’s as tired as me. “I know what you mean,” she laughs quietly, eyes darting to the ring on her left hand which is resting on my chest, “I haven’t wrapped my head around it either yet.”

I press a lingering kiss to her forehead, noticing the way her eyes close instinctively before tightening my arm around her waist. “I love you.”

“I love you more,” she says against my jaw and when I go to retort and tell her that that’s not possible she adds, “Don’t even try, my love.”

I chuckle and rest my cheek against the top of her head. “I didn’t even say anything, but if I did, I would have told you I loved you more than you could ever know. My love knows no bounds and—“

“Oh my gosh, you’re such an idiot,” she cuts me off, poking my chest playfully.

I snort and press another kiss to her forehead. “Yeah I am, but I’m officially your idiot now. Forever and always.”

“Unfortunately.” She deadpans which makes me whine playfully and her giggle softly.

We continue to sway to the music, enjoying each other’s warmth. The pearls woven into Lena’s hair glimmer in the low light and I make a mental note to help her take them out before we go to bed.

“Angel?” I mumble after a couple more songs.

Burying her face in the crook of my neck, she takes a deep breath. “Hmm?”

“Ready to go home?” We stopped swaying to the music a song or two ago and are now just standing in the middle of the dance floor.

“Yes, please.” She yawns and when she leans back to look up at me I can’t help but tuck a strand of hair behind her ear and peck her lips a couple of times.

“Okay, let’s go then.” I grab her hand and lead her off the dance floor. “Guys. . .”

Kara, Alex and Kelly look up from their seats and smile when they see us approaching.

“We’re going to head home now,” I say, slipping my arm around Lena’s waist. “Thank you for coming. I hope you had a good time.”

“Yeah, okay. Have a good night you two,” Alex says with a smile.

“And have a safe flight tomorrow morning,” Kelly adds, smiling as well.

We thank them and hug them in turn, Kara squeezing me extra hard when it’s her turn and telling me how happy she is for us.

Then we leave, getting into the car Alfred has already pulled up outside the venue. He congratulates us as if he hasn’t seen us all day (he was present for the entire ceremony and dinner) before putting up the privacy screen and driving off.

At home, I carry Lena to bed and help her out of her dress before taking the pearls out of her hair. I undressing myself as well once I’m done and slip beneath the covers next to her.

“Wait, we still have to pack. . .” Lena mumbles sleepily when I snuggle up to her from behind.

“No need,” I answer, already half asleep. “I packed everything as you were getting your hair and make up done this morning.”

Sighing, she grabs my hand on her stomach and slips her fingers between mine. “Hmm. . . I knew I married you for a reason.”

I chuckle and press a kiss just below her ear before closing my eyes and letting myself drift off to sleep.

When our alarm went off this morning, Lena and I almost blew off the honeymoon, but then I reminded her of the wonderful things we’d do in Banff which convinced her to get up.

We lazily pulled on some sweatpants and hoodies before grabbing our bags and heading to the parking garage where Alfred was already waiting to take us to the airport.

We boarded the private jet, greeting the pilots with tired smiles and some small talk before settling into our seats.

Lena fell back asleep almost instantly with her head in my lap and my fingers carding through her hair. I dozed off as well, but I didn’t sleep properly.

When we landed in Calgary a couple hours later, we were both no longer tired, so the drive from the airport to our chalet was filled with casual conversations and Lena telling me about her new invention.

Now, after unpacking our bags and exploring the chalet and the surrounding property a bit, we’re headed into town to get some groceries for tonight’s dinner.

The snow covered landscape is breathtaking and while Lena drives I can’t help but press my nose against the car window and gawk especially when we drive past a deer standing on the side of the road

“What are you doing, My Love?” Lena laughs when I gasp, fogging up the window with my breath.

“Did you see that?” I whip my head around. “That deer? On the side of the road?”

“I’m sorry, no. I was focused on the road.” She smiles and takes my hand when I pout. “But I’m sure I’ll see at least one while we’re here.”

I huff playfully and interlace our hands on the armrest of the center console. “Yeah, but still. . . It was so cute.”

We continue driving, listening to some music on the radio until we make it to town and into the parking lot of one of the grocery stores.

The afternoon sun bathes everything in a golden light and when Lena steps out of the car I can’t help but stare at her for a moment.

She’s wearing a black winter coat, a simple knit sweater and jeans, an outfit she would never have been caught wearing when she was still CEO of L- Corp. Things have changed though and if I’m honest I prefer this version of her more than anything else. She’s way more relaxed now, goes to bed at reasonable times and, most importantly, she’s happy.

When I returned to National City after spending half a year in Metropolis, I knew exactly what I wanted. I cut ties with my parents completely, opened my own gym where I teach self defense to kids, and rekindled my friendship with Harper. Before doing any of that though, I went to Lena’s apartment and asked her on an official date.

Since that day three years ago we’ve been going strong and when I proposed to her half a year ago, I couldn’t even finish my heartfelt speech before she interrupted me with a kiss, mumbling, Yes! A million times, yes! against my lips.

“Darling? You coming?”

I’m snapped out of my thoughts by Lena’s soft voice and look up with a sheepish smile. “Y-Yeah, sorry.” I make my way around the front of the car and take her hand in mine, interlacing our fingers.

“Are you okay?” she asks as we make our way into the store. Her eyebrows are furrowed and for a second I’m confused why she would think I’m not, but then it dawns on me that she might think my zoning out just now could have been one of my PTSD episodes.

“Of course, I was just thinking about how lucky I am to have you.” I’m quick to assure her and press a kiss to her reddening cheek before grabbing a cart. “So, what do we need?”

Lena pulls our shopping list up on her phone and begins directing me through the store while I push the cart. At one point, I manage to convince her to stand on the lower shelf of the cart so I can push her down the cereal isle.

“Wait, not so fast! We’re going to crash!” she shrieks when I dash down another isle. I laugh and speed up even more before coming to an abrupt stop. She gasps and steps off the cart, turning in my arms before smacking my chest playfully. “We’re never doing that again!”

I just continue laughing, enjoying the way Lena’s eyes dart around the store in embarrassment. She might not be a Fortune 500 CEO anymore, but people, now more than ever, recognize her almost everywhere because of her revolutionary inventions.

When she realizes that no one is paying any attention to us her lips tug into a smile as well. However, when I dip my head to giver her a kiss, she turns her head so my lips land on her cheek.

“Hey!” I grumble and lean in for another kiss, but she dodges it once again.

“That’s what you get for almost killing me,” she quips and turns around, walking away.

I scoff and roll my eyes playfully, following her to the register. I pay for our things after raising a warning eyebrow at Lena, and carry the bags to the car.

“Can you drive?” she asks and I hold out my hand for the keys.

“Sure. You okay?” I open the passenger door for her before getting into the car myself.

“Mhmm.” She grabs my free hand and interlaces our fingers. “I just want to enjoy the scenery a bit.”

I squeeze her hand in acknowledgement and start the car before leaving the parking lot and pulling onto the main road back to the chalet.

“I love it here,” Lena whispers a couple of minutes into our drive. “It’s so beautiful and peaceful, but if I’m honest I don’t think I could live here.”

I hum in agreement and raise our intertwined hands to press a kiss to the back of her hand. “Mhmm, yeah. Me too. I can’t live without the buzz of the city.”

Lena squeezes my hand and pulls it into her lap, absentmindedly running her thumb over my own as she continues to admire the landscape in the late-afternoon sun.

“Wait, let me help,” Lena protested and joins my side at the sink when I begin washing the pan she used to cook dinner.

“Nuh-uh.” I nudge her hips with my own and push her away playfully. “You cook, I clean. That’s the deal.”

“But—“

“Nope!” I let go of the pan for a moment and dry my hands on my jeans before putting them on her hips to push her away even further. “I’ve got this. You cooked, so I’ll do the dishes. End of discussion. Now go upstairs and take a shower. I know you’ve been dying to take one every since we left the airport.“

Pouting despite the red that dusts her cheek at my firm tone, Lena takes hold of my forearms. “But I wanted to take one with you.”

I chuckle and lean down to kiss her pout away with a couple of soft pecks. “I’ll be right with you, Baby. Just let me finish cleaning the kitchen. After that, I’m all yours.“

Lena grumbles but agrees after I kiss her one, two, three more times, and leaves.

As soon as she’s vanished upstairs, I turn back to the pan in the sink and continue washing it. I also wash a couple of pots and stack the dishes into the dishwasher, turning it on and wiping down the counters and the table before skipping upstairs after her.

In the bedroom, I hear the sound of the shower running in the en-suite bathroom and I hastily strip out of my own clothes, not wanting to waste another second.

I entered the steam filled bathroom and run a hand through my hair, feeling my heart flutter at the sight of Lena already in the walk-in shower.

She has her back turned to me, and has her head tilted up toward the stream of water so it’s running down her face and over her chest.

I wordlessly get into the shower as well, shivering at the slight spray of water that hits my own skin.

Lena gasps softly when I circle my arms around her waist even though she definitely heard me come upstairs, and turns around to face me.

“Hi,” she whispers shyly, lifting her hands to cup my face.

I smile and pull her closer, running my hands up and down her lower back. “Hello, Beautiful. . .”

“You took your time,” she teases, raising one of her hands slightly higher so she can trace the small scar on my temple.

It’s something she’s done ever since I got it that day Lex’s goon hit me in the head with the baseball bat, but she doesn’t do it because it reminds her of what happened. She does it simply because she can and to remind me that we’re both still here even after everything that’s happened.

“I didn’t take my time, you’re just impatient,” I argue, poking her side gently.

She chuckles and stands on tiptoes to brush her lips against mine. “Maybe, but you’re here now, and that’s all that matters.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” I close the distance between us and pull her into a bruising kiss. Her skin against my own sends sparks through my body and when she grabs the hair at the back of my neck and pulls roughly, I can’t help but moan into her mouth. “Shit.”

Since getting married, we haven’t had a chance to be with each other like this because after all the dancing and celebrating last night, all we did was go straight to bed, knowing we had an early flight this morning.

“Darling. . .” Lena whispers against my temple when I dip my head down to trail kisses over her jaw and neck.

“Hmm?” I continue kissing her, nipping at her soft skin only to stop when she doesn’t reply. Panting and a little concerned, I pull back to look at her. When I see the tears glistening in her eyes I frown and loosen my arms around her. “Hey, what’s going on? Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

She shakes her head and blinks rapidly to get rid of her tears. “No, no, you didn’t hurt me. I’m okay. Better than okay actually. . .”

I stare at her, obviously confused and tilt my head slightly. “But. . .?” I lift one of my hands and use my thumb to tentatively wipe away one of the tears that managed to escape her eyes.

“No ‘but’s. . .” She laughs at herself and leans into the touch of my hand on her cheek. “I’m just so happy.”

“Happy?” I echo, my concern not leaving even though her words make my heart flutter. “You’re happy?”

Smiling tearfully, she nods and runs her thumb over my lips and down my chin.

“So these are happy tears?” I ask, needing the confirmation.

“Yes, My Love,” she whispers. “They’re happy tears. You make me so unbelievably happy. You make me feel loved, and safe, and understood. You listen to me, no matter what I rant about. You hold me when I sleep and help me calm down after a nightmare, and you always cheer me up when my insecurities get the better of me. I got so lucky with you and I still can’t believe we’re actually married now. . .”

Feeling tears prick at my own eyes, I close them and lean forward to press my forehead against Lena’s. “Well, if you’re happy then I don’t even know what I am. I am batshit crazy for you, that’s for sure, and every time I look at you my heart feels like it’s going to explode. You bring me the peace I thought I’d lost forever when Noah died and every day I wonder what I did to deserve you. I love you so much and the day you agreed to marry me I knew you would never just be my wife. You’re my rock, my lifeline, and if it wasn’t so cheesy I’d even go as far as to call you my soulmate.”

A soft sob makes me open my eyes again and when I see Lena smiling from ear to ear even though she’s bawling like a baby, I can’t help but reconnect our lips in a soft kiss. It’s way less hurried than the one before, but it makes me weak in the knees all the same.

“I’m not religious-“ Lena pulls my bottom lip between her teeth before letting it snap back into place- “But God do I love you.”

I groan and dig my fingers into her hips. “I love you, too,” I manage to say before resuming our kiss. When I trace my tongue over her lower lip she grants me access immediately. Her nails scratch over my shoulders and down my chest, a whimper clawing its way out of her every now and then when I swirl my tongue around hers until she pulls away to catch her breath.

I take that as my chance to get back to kissing her neck and throat, letting my hands wander down her back and over her ass all the way down to the back of her thighs.

I lift her effortlessly since my leg is no longer weak (it still tingles and hurts some times but my strength has returned fully) and push her up against the cold shower wall.

Lena squirms and shivers at the change in temperature, but doesn’t tell me to stop as she wraps her legs around my waist and threats her fingers through my hair, encouraging me to go on.

When I pull back a moment later to catch my breath, I’m taken aback by the way her pupils are dilated and how kiss swollen her lips are.

“You okay?” I ask, adjusting my hold on her so she doesn’t slip down my body.

“Never better,” she replies breathlessly and before I can fully catch my breath she’s pulling me back in for another passionate kiss that is all teeth and tongue.

The soft touch of Lena’s finger tracing down the side of my face is what ultimately wakes me up the next morning.

After finishing our extra curricular activities in the shower last night, we actually showered before going to bed without bothering to get dressed.

Any other day, one round in the shower wouldn’t have been enough for either of us, but we were both exhausted from traveling, so as soon as we hit the mattress, it was instantly lights out for both of us.

“G’mornin’” I mumble without opening my eyes.

Lena huffs in amusement and continues trailing her finger over my face. “Good morning, My Love. How did you sleep?“

I stretch and open my eyes, smiling when I find Lena propped up on her elbow, looking down on me. Wrapping my arms around her in a flash I pull her on top of me, making her squeal. “Excellent. What about you?”

She smiles, folding her hands over my chest and placing her chin on top of them. “Same, but my legs are tingling a little.”

A smirk pulls at my lips and I delight in the way Lena shivers when I run my fingers up her spine. “Are you expecting me to apologize for that?”

She shakes her head and cranes her neck to place a sloppy kiss on my chin. “Never.”

I chuckle at her halfhearted attempt to kiss me and pull her further up my body so I can connect our lips in a lazy kiss. It’s sweet and not at all rushed like the kisses last night and before it can turn into anything more than it is, Lena pulls away with a dopey smile and sits up with her hands on my bare stomach. Her thumb absentmindedly traces the scar where Lex shot me, but she keeps her eyes on my face. “Breakfast?”

“Yes please, I’m starving,” I joke and sit up as well, wrapping my arms around her so she doesn’t fall backwards. “Do you want me to cook, or do you want to go out and see what Banff’s got to offer?“

Running her fingers through my hair to tame it a little, she shakes her head before getting off my lap. “Let’s go out. I’m craving some pancakes and I really want to check out the shops a little before we go on that hike later.”

I agree easily and follow her into the bathroom after watching her get out of bed with the biggest smile ever on my lips.

We end up having breakfast at a little café, eating pancakes and sharing a french toast before walking around town with Lena holding onto my arm and leaning into my side.

We bought matching beanies and a pair of extra warm gloves for Lena because the ones I packed for her aren’t warm enough and then we set off on our hike around a lake.

It was magical, walking through snow covered woods and spotting all kind of wildlife, but after an hour or so we decided to head back to go ice skating on Lake Louise which is where we are right now.

Lena’s surprisingly graceful, skating circles around me and grinning like a child while I’m doing my best to even stay on my feet.

My arms are flailing around and I keep slipping, but I have yet to fall.

“How are you so good at this?” I whine, making Lena laugh.

“I was a figure skater in primary school,” she admits, skating up to me and pecking my lips.

I groan and accept the hand she holds out for me. “Of course you were. What didn’t you do? I mean, fencing, figure skating, golfing, chess? Is there anything else I should know about?”

She laughs and begins skating, carefully pulling me along with her. “You forgot tennis.”

I playfully roll my eyes and squeeze her hand. “Of course I did.”

Lena laughs again and I try my best not to slip as she pulls me across the lake. It’s quite busy since a lot of tourists are here this time of year, but no one pays attention to us.

That is until one of my skates gets caught on a ridge in the ice. I stumble and slip, trying to regain my balance by tugging on Lena’s hand, but in the end it does nothing to keep me from falling.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa—Uff!” I land on my back with Lena following suit a second later. She lands on top of me with a yelp before freezing and lifting her head to check that I’m okay.

My dazed eyes meet hers and for a second she looks concerned, but then she bursts out laughing lays her head on my chest. “I’m sorry, My Love,” she says, “but that was hilarious. You fell like a cartoon character.”

I groan at the sting in my back and ass, but laugh as well, wrapping my arms around her to prevent her from getting up just yet.

“Are you okay?” I ask with a chuckle once our laughter has died down.

“Yeah, I’m okay. I had something soft to land on.” She grins and pokes my nose. Her eyes shine with mirth and her adorable dimples are on full display.

“Ha ha.” I mock her, but unwrap my arms from around her so she can get up. Once she’s back on her feet, she helps me up as well.

“Are you okay?” she asks a little more seriously as she helps me wipe the snow off my jeans.

I nod and readjust the hat on her head as soon as she’s done. “I am, but I think I’ve had enough of this for today.”

I’m a little cold since we’ve been outside the entire day and I’m hungry. We didn’t have any lunch since our breakfast turned into a brunch and I’m dying to eat the Chili Lena promised she’d make for dinner.

“Yeah, me too. Let’s get home.” She smiles and presses a chaste kiss to my lips before pulling me back to the edge of the lake where we switch our skates for our boots before walking to the car.

“I’ve honestly never felt this relaxed,” Lena admits after dinner when she sinks into the hot tub next to me. Her dark hair is in a bun at the top of her head and the black bikini she’s wearing makes my stomach flip.

I sigh happily and mumble mhmm in agreement, uncrossing my legs when she moves to straddle my lap. She drapes her arms over my shoulders and presses her nose against my jaw, shivering ever so slightly when the cold air hits her exposed upper back.

I shiver too, but not because of the cold, and pull her even closed so there’s no space left between our bodies.

The sun has gone down a couple of minutes ago, making the stars visible and I know that if we’re lucky we’ll even get to see some northern lights tonight.

The hot tub is on the balcony outside the master bedroom and even though it makes for a stunning view out here, going inside once you’re done relaxing is like torture, especially when it’s as cold outside as it is today.

I run my hand up and down the length of Lena’s thighs and close my eyes, enjoying the closeness between us. “I know I tell you all the time,” I whisper, brushing my lips against her hairline, “but you smell so good, I honestly don’t know how you do it.”

That makes her laugh and when she pulls back to look at me I see the amusement twinkling in her eyes. “You smell good too,” she says after a beat of silence, cupping my cheeks. “even when you get back home after the gym all sweaty and gross.”

My jaw drops, which makes her laugh again before kissing me softly and adding, “No offense though.”

I smile against her lips and squeeze her thighs gently. “You’re lucky you can get away with saying stuff like that.”

“Oh really? Is ist because you’re head over heels in love with me or because I’m just too pretty to get mad at?”

“Both,” I reply without thinking, leaning in to resume our kiss only to be pushed back again by a hand on my chest.

I frown and go to protest but the my eyes land on Lena’s lip between her teeth and her darkened eyes on me.

“Well, what if I don’t want to get away with it?” she whispers seductively, her finger tracing over my collarbones.

I raise my eyebrows and gape at her. “I-I-I don’t understand.”

Smiling devilishly, Lena leans forward and grazes her teeth against the shell of my ear. “I think you do, Darling.”

I gulp and involuntarily tighten the grip on her thighs which makes her sigh directly into my ear. “Lena.”

“Yes?” Her voice is low and raspy and when she pulls back to look at me I don’t give her a chance to protest before smashing my lips against hers.

This is going to be fun. . .

_______________________________________________

Hey. . . Hey . . How y’all doin’? (Iykyk)

I’ve been sick for the longest time now, but I’m back! Updates will still be slow, but I’m writing again, yay!

*not proofread yet (will get to it soon. . . hopefully)

#x reader #fluff #dc universe #dcu #lena luthor #lena luthor x reader #supergirl cw

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enixamyram · 9 months ago

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I have tried really hard to ignore anti nonsense. I just wanna focus on the good and positive side of this fandom and just enjoy the series in general. But it's also hard bottling up thoughts when I'm used to ranting for the sake of getting my thoughts and feelings out and moving then on.

So I'm gonna put a couple reactions to Anti-Related Hazbin things under the read more just to get them out! Because my god, some of these are bullshit!

Chaggie - I've seen so much bullshit citicizm for this ship. People claiming they're boring or bland or badly written and I have yet to see a legit reason why other than that they don't have any typical relationship drama (which, for the record, I personally am so relieved about) or because they're not being overly affectionate every five minutes of screen time. And you know, this especially drives me crazy because they have some of the sweetest little gestures, whether it be holding hands, hugging, swinging each other round or even just the constant damn heart eyes they have when looking at each other in the background! They're so damn precious and if you can't see that, you don't know what a legit established relationship is supposed to be past the honeymoon phase.

Charlie - People once again have claimed she's badly written. I don't know why people seem to hate happy kind hearted females so much but I have seen this exact complaint about many characters who are similar to her. None of which are actually badly written. They're just not the new stereotype "bad asses" that seems to be the only acceptable way to write a female character lately. Which is ironic since a lot of the so called "bad ass" female characters I have seen are often so one dimensional. Yet we have Charlie, a kind hearted but also sometimes naive girl who is doing her best while also learning with the rest of her friends and ya'll are gonna try and claim she's not amazing? The more I rewatch the show, the more I wanna reschedule my favorite character list because there's not a second I don't adore having her on my screen.

Niffty - This one really makes me want to slam my head against the wall. I have seen so many people complain and claim she acts like a child. Bare in mind, I've just watched episode 3 - you know, the one where Niffty is fully ready to throw herself into the BDSM that Angel takes them to. The only thing close to evidence that I have seen for her acting like a child is the episode where she gets drunk except she's still not acting like a child there, she's acting like a drunk! When some people are drunk they're silly and dumb and very "child-like". Otherwise, the only reason I think people call her a child is because she's is literally small like one. Yet, if you actually look at anything past her basic physical appearance, she's a crazy murder machine and I don't know many children I can also give that title to.

Angel - This is so old and everyone else has said this all so much better than me but I just really want to repeat: Just because it's not YOUR representation doesn't mean it's BAD representation. Just because you dealt with your sexual assault in a certain way does not mean everyone deals with it that way and it sure as hell doesn't give you a right to dismiss others. I have seen so many people say they identify with Angel's character and his hypersexuality, so it is so annoyingly arrogant to see people trying to shut them down entirely because Angel's character isn't portraying their personal reactions. It's just so amazingly self-centered to be saying that if you can't personally relate to it exactly, then it shouldn't exist at all. Seriously, grow the fuck up.

Loser Baby/Poison - Again, this has been said so many times before by other people but I'm gonna add/repeat. Some people take these songs and videos so damn literally. I saw someone claim Angel was happy during his dance with Valentino in Poison which apparently made the whole character a contradiction? Completely ignoring the parts where he's clearly miserable or the part where he's clearly putting on a fake smile or even the part where he all out says he dissociates to get through. And then you have Loser Baby where people are outraged that Husk call Angel a loser and is apparently trying to compare their situations? I mean, he's obviously not saying they're situations are the same if you think about it for more than two seconds. Like, are you seriously this literal? If I said the message went over your head, would ya'll look up?

#Hazbin Hotel #Mini Rant #Anti Anti's #Chaggie #Charlie Morningstar #Niffty #Angel Dust #Loser Baby #Poison #I have yet to see someone give these “critics”#that doesn't also openly hate Vivzie.#And I'm not even going into the Vivzie bs because that's so old #and I'm so over these haters.#Anway #I'm gonna post some random positive screen shots now #cause I'm keeping my attitude happy for this fandom #because I genuinely adore so much of it #I'm not letting haters ruin it for me.

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girlwithonegoal · 1 year ago

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sorry but the only reason destiel even works is because wincest did it first and also better

i've been thinking a LOT about this and want to get it all out so here it is. if dean was truly in love with cas, he would not have hesitated to tell him so when he literally knew cas was about to DIE. we don't see that. we see shock, grief, disbelief (an angel loves me!), we see him trying desperately to process his best friend is leaving him but nowhere does dean say, or imply, with his eyes, or words, that he's in love with cas. of course he loves cas - cas is family - and cas is not exactly his brother, (closest is brother-in-arms), despite his insistence in an earlier episode - but he's not in the kind of soul-crushing love that cas is with him. he's not in love with cas, and can't be, because he's already in love with sam.

when dean dies, he gets as close as he possibly can to confessing to sam he's in love with him without actually crossing the line. he would never to that to sam - he would never do to sam what cas did to him - because he would NEVER do anything to make sam lose his agency (sidebar: not that cas doesn't respect dean. but his love confession is almost wish fulfillment - i'm going to confess to dean i love him and go out in a blaze of glory and then leave without dean ever even having to reciprocate because i know he doesn't love me back. and he's absolutely right).

dean has already had years and years of not having his own agency from john his whole fucking life! john did whatever he wanted to dean and dean took it because like hell was he going to subject sam to that bullshit. which brings us to sam and dean's childhood - not much is known of their early years before sam went to stanford and that's fully on purpose. we can almost see dean as not only a brother figure to sam but also a father figure. john leaving for weeks maybe even months at a time - how the hell did dean and sam manage to survive? by dean doing whatever he had to do. emphasis on whatever.

you see, john absolutely knows that dean is beautiful. whether you read their relationship as purely abusive or abusive with a sexual component - dean definitely did questionable things to get food on the table for sam, an aspect that's more in fanon that canon but reads true to the heart of the show. sam doesn't know because dean wanted a normal childhood for him. and dean would rather die and go to hell for 800 years than force sam to make a choice, make any choice, of a romantic and/or sexual nature related to him.

back to dean's death. this is again the closest thing to a love confession that dean can make - my baby brother - take out the word brother and it would be not only romantic but stunningly true - he raised sam, this child who grew up to be a man, this child who loves him - waiting outside sam's dorm for hours - can you picture him pacing in the snow, waiting for the one thing he wants but can't have??? why does that sound familiar? oh, right, because that's what cas said but in dean and sam's case it would be actually true. how cruel and unbelievably insane it is to find your soulmate in your brother, the one person you have that you love unconditionally, not just because they are your family but because you are in love with them, and you can never have them as long as you live.

re: american gothic and soulmatism. very different from crimson peak where thomas fully realizes the unhealthiness of the codependent incestuous relationship with his sister and wants to be free and happy with edith. but sam and dean don't want to be free. in their minds, they already are free as long as they have each other and only each other. not getting in all the other romantic relationships that the brothers have with other people bc it would take too long, but they already fulfill that need for each other and don't need anyone else...like i'm sorry i love my sister but i want to get married one day to someone else. if you read their relationship as purely platonic, it doesn't work at ALL.

the kripke early seasons fully leaned into the gothic horror aspect of it all and incest is definitely a part of that...dean and sam literally cannot live without each other. they can't do it! sam dies in dean's arms and dean can't even wait five fucking minutes without making a deal with a demon lmao. he can't eat. he can't sleep. their love is a perpetual resurrection; they keep killing each other and bringing each other back to life. because they don't know how to stop. they are a singular mangled fucked up entity. i read a fic once where the author described sam as hating his own body because it was separate from dean's and dean's whole presence was a phantom pain. and yeah. just yeah. they can't live without each other because they ARE each other.

seasons 1-3 to me are spn at its soul. that's it. cas only works as a side character, if he's a brother (like, purely platonically) to both sam and dean or just unrequited romantic love for dean. the trope of an angel falling in love with a faithless man who can't pray only works if dean hasn't been in love with sam the whole time.

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lightlycareless · 4 months ago

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https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTLu3Bq6F/

I saw this and it made me think of Naoya trying to record something cute for Y/N while she’s out but this happens instead. I wonder which kid this would be since I don’t see Naomi doing this (It feels Naohime coded lol)

Hello!!!

What is up with these videos; seriously, is it just me or are they not appearing anymore? ANYWAYS the tiktok went on something like this: a dad lays down next to their child, trying to record them playing or so, the kid is not having it and smacks them on the face with their toy. hahahaha Poor guy.

But definitely Naohime coded. Naomi is such a sweetheart (when she doesn’t require attention, of course. Because if not… well, we all know what happens.) if anything she loves video calls with her parents, recording videos and such ☺️

warnings: none. just fluff. your youngest daughter is kind of a brat tho hahaha. also idk if it's necessary but naoya is like a happy and loving man/husband/father so YEAH I've redeemed him in my blog :)) just in case there's new readers around.

Happy reading!

But Naohime… oof, Naohime doesn’t like it when she’s interrupted, or doing anything that she doesn’t feel like. If she’s playing that’s the only thing she wants to do; if she’s watching cartoons, don’t even look at her, she doesn’t exist until the episode is over!

This was a well-known fact by everyone around, and yet… Naoya hoped that maybe this one time she wouldn’t react that way. Maybe she’ll go along with recording a small video for you when away, or even join a video call, just like his other children happily did so.

And yet… he’d be proved wrong the moment Naoya decides to lay down next to his youngest who was diligently playing with one of her newest toys, discreetly adding her into frame when video calling you. It was simply a matter of asking when she’d become aware of this happening, and how she’d react.

“—how is everything over there? Are my adorable babies and my handsome husband behaving well?”

“Were you expecting differently?” He teases with a smirk.

“No, of course not.” You giggle. “Mmm, well, maybe a bit from you.”

“Really? What for?” Naoya asks back, and when you give him silence, he just laughs. Oh, why must you tease him when he can’t do anything about it? If you weren’t so far away, that’d be another story. But until then… “My love, can you see who I’m with right now?”

“Oh, who is it—” you excitedly breathe, eager to see one of your kids after… well, 24 hours. You and Naoya call each other every single day, some of your children find it reasonably annoying.

Either way, it makes you grin as if it had been weeks since you last saw her—your cute Naohime nonchalantly playing, dressed up in that adorable light blue onesie one of your staff members got her a few days ago, which you’ve wanted to see on her for the longest! “Oh, Naohime! My sweet adorable little muffin, what are you doing cutie? Are you having fun with papa?”

She doesn’t respond nor look up to the phone, simply focused on the task at hand. She’s determined, all right... kind of reminds you of Naomi when she was younger.

Though slightly different in certain aspects as you soon remembered upon seeing Naoya beginning to “disturb” her.

“Wait, Naoya—”

“Come on, angel, say hi to mama.” Naoya lightly nudges her. “Don’t you miss her? She certainly misses you!”

“Naoya… she’s going to get angry…” you caution at the frown in her face already forming.

“It’s just a small hi, my love, it won’t be that bad—”

But to Naohime, it was; the gravest transgression yet! For the moment she catches wind of his intentions, she does not waste time to let him know of her disapproval, raising her hand, alongside her toy, to strike a loud smack! On his face, one that has him recoiling, hissing and whining at the burning, pulsating pain he didn’t think his daughter was capable of!

Well, at least she has a strong grip! He just hoped he hadn’t found out this way.

“Oh my god, Naoya, are you ok?!” You gasp, naturally concerned by your husband… as well as slightly amused by your daughter’s antics! You were out there dying trying your best to not laugh in front of him, but it was just so funny how quick she was to put him in his place! Thankfully, he didn’t seem too upset about the matter.

“Ye—yeah; I just—I was just caught off guard, that’s all.” Naoya says, rubbing his face just where he was hit. “I didn’t think our baby had that in her.”

“All of them have been like that, haven’t they? Strong I mean.”

“Yes, they have. Though Naohime has quite the punch…”

“Well, it’s not like our other babies went on smacking people when they weren’t happy.” You chuckled, Naoya joining you soon after. “We gotta do something about that though, can’t have her hitting her papa all the time… she’s going to ruin his handsome face!”

“Oh, and you would hate that, wouldn’t you?”

“Obviously, nothing but a nightmare!” You jest.

“I can’t wait to have you back.” Naoya murmurs. “When are you returning? I greatly miss you.”

“In a week or so.” You respond. “Will you still be able to pick me up from the airport?”

“I’ll go for you if you need me to.” At the thought of your husband and your babies flying over to Tokyo just to see you, like straight out of a movie, makes your heart swoon!

But as tempting as it was, it was better for them to wait for you at home. You have a small surprise for them, after all!

“It won’t be necessary—just you being there with our kids is enough for me.”

“You have something planned for us, don’t you?” you blush, startled by his quick wits.

“Don’t say anything! I want it to be a complete surprise!!”

“Alright, alright—I won’t check the bank statements either.”

“Haha… how funny…” you frown—it was only one time! “Well, I gotta go now, I just wanted to check in on you guys before it got too late.”

“Wait, do you want to see the rest before leaving?”

“Oh, yes please! If it’s possible!”

But the moment Naoya was to stand up from the bed, Naohime quickly grabs onto his sleeve, as if demanding he stay, or at least take her—a reaction that makes the two laugh at its irony: she might not like the attention, but that doesn’t mean she wants to be left alone!

“What is it, muffin? You want to go with me?” Naoya asked, and Naohime nodded. Ah, so she was ignoring the two… well, nothing they didn’t know already. “Alright, off we go to see your siblings.”

Naoya then swiftly picks her up, carefully holding her head against his chest as he made way towards the area he believed the rest of his kids to be—a loving sight that made you smile (would’ve thought that just moments ago Naohime had smacked him across the face?) as well as far more eager to return home, wanting to hug them tightly, never letting go, as you pepper their face with kisses, kisses, and more kisses!

Though cautiously with Naohime, for you wouldn’t want to meet a similar fate as Naoya—

But would you be able to control yourself? Probably not, there is no way you could with your adorable daughter. And that is a sacrifice you were willing to make.

The surprise is either you're pregnant again (unlikely, you got too many goddamn kids!!! Naoya needs to pull out) or you've got tickets to disneyland (courtesy of your dad) also, the bank statement thing is something I plan to write on about later on hahaha It's just something silly I think would happen between you and Naoya.

I hope you liked this little thing I wrote uwu I love the attention Naohime has been getting as of lately, we love our little gremlin 💖 jakhgjakshgjkashgjka I still can't believe she came from a dream haha.

Anyways, once again, thank you so much for sending in this ask!! Now, take care, and hope to see you soon 💖

#ask #naoya zenin #naoya zen'in #naoya x reader #naoya zenin x reader #naoya zenin x you #jjk naoya #naoya zen'in x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x you #prompt series: jujutsu kaisen

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kakuzatos · 2 years ago

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kobeni’s devil

!! spoilers for chainsaw man !!

so, episode 9 came out and i watched it with vigor. as expected, kobeni slayed this episode and didn’t disappoint me with her moves. damn, she was quick. you really can’t have a pure hatred for kobeni, it will always have love in the mix.

and while i was thinking about her, i got curious about her devil again. really, what is this big secret... why was she the only one who got out alive after 100 chapters while other characters like aki and power were ultimately killed off? she surely has relevance in the plot and there is a reason why her devil is concealed as a secret. a devil like that would be thought of as a dangerous one because kobeni can’t even say its name.

naturally, i go to a full-on zoning out session thinking of the many possibilities of kobeni’s devil.

i. well, first, i thought of the possibility of her being a devil that has a human-like appearance like makima, yoru and fami. that is a good theory, but her having a family and a brother denounces it a bit. i’m not saying that devils don’t have families and aren’t capable of being raised by one (makima was raised by the government, that’s why she’s like the way she is, if that ever counts as a family). i’m not particularly fond with this one, though, since kobeni is pretty much the most human person in the whole cast. i mean, look at her.

scared shitless. if she was a devil, she would’ve been happy. devils thrive on fear, they don’t live with it. that would be pretty fun, though.

ii. moving on. she could have a contract with the death devil. it’s probably the most overstated theory and for good reason. first of all, i’ve read this comment in a reddit post about a totally unrelated, regardless interesting, observation on chapter 113.

the comment reads:

Getting back to my tangent about the Four Horsemen: the Four Horsemen are unique because, unlike normal devils, who only use fear, the Horsemen are each able to use one of the four emotions unique to humans, listed by the Doll Devil in ch 63:

Conquest uses Worship (aka reverence). So long as humans revere her, they hold her in a "higher place", allowing her to control them. Put from her POV, that means that, so long as the human is "lower" than her, she can control them.

Conquest bends the "rules" around devil contracts in two ways. The first way is obvious - she can force "lesser" humans to submit to her contracts. The second way is by being able to claim ownership over other devils. This means that, unlike a normal devil, Conquest can use other devils like as though they were part of her own body. This gave her the ability to use Angel's powers as though they were her own. This also means she could offer the bodies of other devils in her contracts, as we saw with Aki and the Gun Devil.

War uses Guilt. The greater the guilt she feels, the stronger the weapon she creates. The irony here is that War is so selfish and so absent of the understanding of right and wrong that she's unable to feel much guilt over anything she does. She blames Pochita for her current weakness, but really, she's inherently pretty weak compared to the other Horsemen, just because of this anti-synergy with her own power.

War bends the "rules" by forming completely lopsided "contracts". Like Makima, Yoru removes the human's consent from the equation - if she claims ownership, so long as it's something she can touch, she can weaponize it. But the person turned into a weapon gains nothing from it, the only benefactor is Yoru. Completely one-sided "contracts".

Famine uses Adoration/Respect. We'll see what this means exactly later, but I think I kind of touched on it in my other comment. War and Famine are a yin and yang duo - Yoru is "night", while the heart of Justice "shines with light". And while Yoru is completely selfish and devoid of the understanding of good and evil, Famine seems stuck doing things for others (in other words, is "selfless"), all while being very concerned with the understanding of good and evil. Yoru's power is based on guilt, aka, being able to sense the evil in yourself. So hence, I suspect Famine's "Respect"-based powers are based on being able to sense the good in other people.

Famine bends the "rules" by also forming completely lopsided contracts. The difference is, while Yoru only takes... as Yuko pointed out, Justice only gives. My guess is that, if Famine senses that a human is "good", she can form zero-cost contracts.

Death uses Pity. Pity is the feeling you get when you watch other living things suffer. The idea that Death gets stronger from feelings of pity sends shivers down my spine...

This is especially the case if it's true that every Horseman is trying to cancel out the source of their own power. Conquest's dream is to form equal, nonhierarchical, relationships, which flies in the face of a being whose power is based on hierarchy. So if Death wants to be rid of the "source of its power", too, then wouldn't it have to get rid of all suffering?

notice something about death. death is also powered by pity. kobeni is pretty damn pitiful in almost all her screentime, manga or anime, except her fabulous show in episode 9. but she did experience a lot of torment and she is generally seen as pitiful. maybe, just maybe, that pity she gets from other people is what feeds the death devil. and having to survive all what happened in the past arcs, i wouldn’t be surprised if she ever was involved with such a mortifying devil like the death devil. she dodged death in multiple occasions, it’s like death sided with her. another thing, in hell or chapter 63-64, the darkness devil didn’t even try to kill her. maybe it’s scared?

it’s also such a fun concept to think about. this traumatized girl who is about to shit herself has a contract with the death devil. fucking metal. the thought alone deserves its own book.

iii. kobeni has a contract with the luck devil! a lot of people agree with this one! i don’t know if it’s good luck or bad luck, though. she seems to somehow have both, so i’m not sure. many people do lean into the idea of a “chance devil”, but i’m pretty certain, if that was the case, it would be the “bad luck” or “misfortune” devil. if there was a luck devil, why would anyone fear good luck? it would’ve been extremely weak because, in retrospect, no one would fear good luck.

so, bad luck. in this article, it stated that kobeni somehow feeds the bad luck devil with her own bad luck and fear, explaining why she doesn’t sacrifice her body parts.

although this is good, personally i don’t favor it too much. fujimoto is known for his chaotic direction of his manga and always being spontaneous that you can’t predict it, but it’s done so, in a way, that it’s orchestrated. hints are left, foreshadowing is present; it’s chaotic but makes sure to make sense to us too. a good story should make sense while maintaining its unpredictability. so, a death devil is already hinted. a bad luck devil is not. (yet)

well, this theory will just have to wait for a while. maybe, there will be a time when a bad luck devil will appear or get mentioned.

iv. in this post, kobeni is theorized to be contracted with a devil connected to survival. for one, if that devil were to be connected to survival, it could either mean: a fear of death or a fear of getting hurt.

a fear of death relates to the death devil.

a fear of getting hurt relates to a pain devil of some sorts. a pain devil would be cool because it will be powerful. almost all humans are scared of being hurt and will make a bit more sense in the storyline, considering that her line of work is potentially getting hurt and seeing others getting hurt because of her. pretty neat theory!

v. same post in iv, there’s a comment where she might be have a contract with the knife devil. although, there is no evidence to back this up, her main weapon of choice is a knife. in a way, it makes sense.

v. car devil. no questions. in fact, according to u/LeynaSepKim, it was even foreshadowed in chapter 5, in their post.

all are only speculation! feel free to correct me or add some other theories. the only thing we can do to form more theories and solidify existing ones is to wait. we have yet to see her full potential. she is shown to be athletic in the anime and the manga, but not her power in its entirety.

#kobeni #chainsaw man #theory #csm #csm theory #analysis #kakutxt #she's pretty sus

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eluxcastar · 2 years ago

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Hello!

Can I request you headcanons about Columbina, Sandrone and La Signora (separeatly) with gender neutral Reader?

Reader is introvertic, shy and really dependent on them. Bassicly they can spend entire day with head on theirs lap or sitting on their lap while huggung into them while blushing bright red.

Just reader being clingy and acting like puppet/puppy.

If you could, can you make this yandere headcanons if you do such things? I haven't read your rules in long time.

~❄ Anon

Good puppies are always loyal

── ୨୧：columbina, sandrone, la signora x reader (separate)

୨୧﹑synopsis :: just some little optionally yandere headcanons of cuddling and stuff

୨୧﹑genre :: fluff but only if you squint lmao

୨୧﹑content :: gn reader, yandere reader, implied yandere columbina, signora's has you referred to as a dog, this is rushed ngl, we know not the name proofreading in this house

୨୧﹑words :: 810

dw anon I'm happy to fulfil yandere requests ❤️ I couldn't figure out whether the yandere part referred to reader or characters because the idea of reader being conditioned to be this way rly spoke to me but I am also a SUCKER for yandere readers. the puppy part made me think that was probably what you actually meant so I intended to do that but then for some reason it seemed very mutual yandere instead?? idk I'm tired

tell me if you want/meant the other idea cause I can do that too (one day my demons will win) (I'll probably end up doing it anyway possibly with other characters)

─ ୨୧： columbina

Columbina just thinks you're so cute, enjoying how clingy you can be, though she lets you down firmly enough when you need to be away from her for whatever reason, though she wishes it were appropriate to drag you into the places the Harbingers meet to dote on you all the time there, though she's not too eager to share you either, so perhaps it's for the best she has an excuse not to let you be seen by those unworthy of you.

even her colleagues can be filthy, and they fight constantly, always riling each other up. your innocence has no need for such an environment, a little dove in the hands of wolves. no, you belong with another dove who can nurture you and treat you properly. that is why you love her after all, isn't it? what draws you to her and what keeps you fixed on her. she's like a pretty drug, though far more angelic and no less addictive in nature.

she allows you to touch her however you like, even publicly if you wish as Columbina doesn't have anything against being seen being affectionate with you, only with the eyes that watch. she wants to be seen that way, actually, to be seen smothering you in the love you crave and which you will so gladly take from her so that others know you are not to be toyed with and taken advantage of, even if she embarrasses you at times with her fussing. you probably aren't too fond of the attention in public, are you? all those people staring at you, you must be so flustered, poor thing.

─ ୨୧： sandrone

Sandrone is very fond of your behaviour, you're much better than her other ones, something that doesn't need instructions to obey. you're so attached to her, and she'd much rather cart you around latched onto her side and happy to lay your head in her lap while she strokes your hair.

she likes to see you happy, indulging you perhaps more than she should, as to see you practically purr with delight because she knows what you want, and she's going to give it to you in order to see you smile up at her from the comfort of her lap. she wants to say you're predictable, as a compliment that is, she likes it when things do what she wants them too. it's much easier to know how to please you when she picks out your tells, and begins to fall into a rhythm though she also likes it when you just cuddle with her.

she wants you to curl up in her lap, letting her cuddle you close and spoil you, though not too much. she enjoys the feeling of you laying your head on her shoulder like a pillow. Sandrone certainly pedals to your little crush. is it a crush if you're supposed to be her girlfriend? you certainly act like you're giddy and struck by puppy love sometimes. Sandrone likes to let you keep some of her creations and often makes you some she thinks you'll like, usually ones you can cuddle up to and be clingy to in her absence, little pieces of her she leaves with you in her stead.

─ ୨୧： la signora

acting like a stray puppy before the Fair Lady was never a good idea, let alone when she's taken such a liking to you, such a cute face. you are, in many's eyes, spoiled by her, just not in a way anyone truly wishes to be. thankfully you are more grateful to Signora's way of loving than most. she lets you follow her anywhere you're willing to go, as long as you behave yourself. she realised quickly you'll eat her instructions up.

crimson butterflies are a beautiful thing, even in the wintertime when you shiver they warm you in the absence of heat or a fire. you notice it first when one lands on your nose. it emanates warmth you never care to shoo away, always the work of Signora who notices your shivering and acts to fix it before you freeze to death under her care. she simply cannot allow that to happen, though it only really happens when you're not cuddled up to her mooching your warmth off of her body heat. she'll play with your hair, making sure every piece is perfect.

she has you whipped to her beck and call that's for sure. she always has. she treats you like a child sometimes, finding you to be something like a cute, pathetic little dog in desperate need of loving and caring to ease the yearning for comfort you hold. she's unexpectedly kind to you as a result, cooing at you almost like you can't even take care of yourself and like you need her. how would you go on without her benevolence? without her love?

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imsickofpasswords · 1 year ago

Text

A theory of the Ineffable Plan.

By elsamirrre5322 on YouTube

Realistic_Street1312 on Reddit

ParkSeo-Jun on Fandom

Imsickofpasswords on Tumblr

(Yes, all me!)

Book of Genesis 1–11: And God said: 'Let us make man in our image"

From Neil Gaiman’s MAster Class: When you tell a story, it is crucial that you completely believe in what you're writing

Hi, Good Omens's fellow victims! Like so many, I have been trying to cope with Eternity (I mean the dreadful period between season 2 and, either season 3, or my personal Armageddon.) That rotting brain of mine came up with a theory regarding the message that Good Omens (book and show) is striving to convey. What is it that Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman believe in so hard, as human beings and writers, that they want the whole world to understand it? Well, what I found, whether or not it is accurate, is at least beautiful. So I wish to share it with you.

Before I begin and you accuse me of pedantry, know that my every sentence begins with an invisible imho.

***

Since there is no way around it, I'll talk about the ship and the cruel, heart-wrenching, forever traumatizing, law-should-forbid-that-kind-of-things, cliffhanger. No matter how hard I think, this ship is the most beautiful love story ever (yes, imho). Is it because it doesn't involve burning passion, emphatic confessions and great sacrifices? It's about beings who harbor the same inner values but underwent such different trials that their personalities ended up diametrically opposed. Their love (and loneliness) pulls them together and allows them to rub off on each other, but they still retain their identities and won't go against their principles for the sake of the relationship. In the fight, they both proposed to each other, I mean proposed, like, let’s get married. And neither of them got rejected. They both wanted to be together, and made that part perfectly clear. What they declined was the terms of the contract. Either Crowley going back to pretending he trusts Heaven’s institution, or Aziraphale abandoning his faith. They both expect to be loved for who they truly are and believe in. And of course, this is exactly what they will achieve… True love instead of the illusion of love. First prediction in my Silly and Hopeful Book Of Prophecies.

***

Having taken the mammoth out of the room, I’ll explain my theory.

Whilst reading the book, I realized that the original story was never that of Aziraphale and Crowley (worry not, I have plenty to say about them…). It was that of Adam (originally, William the Antichrist) and the Them. More than that, it’s a saga about humanity achieving its full potential.

***

God

Of course, we should begin with God, since God created humanity, the universe(s) and the rules by which everyone and everything must abide. So. Who is God? Well if I could answer that, I'd probably know how to make a whale. I don't know how to make a whale. But certainly there are things we know, or can guess about God.

First, she (I’m a woman and it makes me obscenely happy to write “she” here) is the narrator. Second, she does not play dice with the universe. The first fact means that God can see everything, down to an angel and a demon drinking solidly for two hours, or a nightingale singing in Berkeley square. Second statement means there is no such thing as chance or hazard in that universe of hers. Everything happens for a reason.

It sounds like God wrote everything, everyone's destiny, like Gaiman and Pratchett did for their characters. Crowley says so himself. Humanity, Aziraphale, Crowley, everybody, they are all characters in the book called The Great Plan.

I think God injected herself in her own story under the disguise of Agnes Nutter. Only God can always be right.

So, here we have Gaiman and Pratchett hiding behind God, and God hiding behind Agnes Nutter. The Bible turned into The Great Plan, and then into a book of prophecies.

But what kind of person is God? Is She compassionate, loving, merciful? Yes. I firmly believe that. Err… Wait. Same God that drowned almost everybody, goats included, and wanted to kill Job's children… and goats!

“When his life was ruined, his family killed, his farm destroyed, Job knelt down on the ground and yelled up to the heavens, "Why God? Why me?" and the thundering voice of God answered, "There's just something about you that pisses me off.”

― Stephen King, Storm of the Century.

Yes. Same God who never failed to prove herself a master torturer, a mass murderer and a serial killer in a single package. How do I reconcile both sides? Death… is only temporary! I mean, Jesus could bring Lazarus back, Adam resurrected a fuckton of people, and Crowley easily performed miracle escapes. Maybe death isn't the terrible thing we think it is… (except for Nazis? But Nazis aren’t really human, are they?) As for Job's children and goats, God knew that Crowley was around, up to no evil…

Having said that, I remember Stephen King writing something else. Whoever remembers that quote, let me know. Something like this: " If God created everything, then It must rule over both Good and Evil. If It only rules over Good, then there must be someone who rules over it all. I’ll worship that someone as the actual Almighty."

I agree. Good and Evil are like two faces of a coin. Death introduced Itself as the shadow of Creation and states “I’m neither of Hell, nor Heaven”. Evil must be the shadow of Good. And everything is a part of God.

***

The Adams

No, not the family, come on! What would they be doing here? Ah, attending the Second Coming. Come to think of it, it's indeed the kind of event they wouldn’t want to miss…

Anyway, their name is spelled Addams and I’m actually talking about the two Adams of the story. Old Adam, who ate the forbidden fruit in the garden of Eden, and young Adam (I mean Adam Young) who steals apples in the garden of his neighbor. As I see it, they are allegories of Humanity.

As Crowley said, most universes come pre-aged, while this one will be allowed to grow. In the same way, Humanity is a species that will be allowed to grow. What ever for? Entertain God? Eternity does sound boring. Certainly a God could use a good laugh once in a while… But Nah. What do people do when they're bored with their lives? Hint: not their best idea? They have children! (or pets. Pets is a good idea…)

At the beginning, Adam and Eve are all of Humanity. They can't tell good from evil as they haven't experienced anything yet. Despite looking like full grownups, they are still babies. Crowley designed, not a star factory, but a fancy wallpaper indeed, for… a nursery.

Now, how is Baby Humanity supposed to grow? Crowley! Good ol’ Crowley! His temptation is the first opportunity to exercise free will. It’s the first lesson and the reason why the apple isn't at the top of a mountain or on the Moon. Choose for yourself, and see what happens. By eating the forbidden fruit, Adam and Eve don't actually get any knowledge of right or wrong. The first sin marks the beginning of the teenage rebellion that is necessary to grow beyond what was taught. Everything that comes after is like an initiation rite. A six-thousand year long initiation rite with angels and demons along the way as teachers and… the end of the world as a final test.

At the end of season one, Adam Young is back to being human. He represents Humanity at a later stage. An almost fully grown humanity that has learnt a lot (too much?) about free will. Once again, it takes Crowley’s intervention (just slightly motivated by the idea of Aziraphale’s threat never to talk to him again…) to push Adam towards the right path. Note that I didn’t write the good path. I meant the right path, the one that wasn't created for him even before he was born, I mean the path he made for himself.

The main difference between Old Adam and Adam Young deserves to be stressed here. Adam Young’s education was provided by other humans, his parents, his friends, Anathema… It means in 198X any random human is that evolved, already. The question is, how did Humanity reach this level of knowledge? And power?

Yes, power. Armageddon was stopped by… whom exactly? Humans! Humans only. Anathema, Newt, the Them. Meanwhile, Aziraphale and Crowley were gonna kill the Antichrist, a kid! A KID! And who stopped them? Madame Tracy, a stupid (I’m not the one saying), psychic, Jezebel-of-Babylon with a good heart. A nobody? No. A human.

***

The education of Humanity.

Let's stop to notice that Crowley and Aziraphale are adoptive parents from the get go, watching the kids anxiously from afar, wondering if they actually fulfilled their respective mission as an angel and a demon, not knowing that having kids goes way beyond giving them toys and feeding them applesauce. It's a life sentence. Your kids will always call you at ungodly hours, seeking comfort after a nightmare, no matter how grown up they are. There’s no escaping to Alpha Centauri, and forgetting about them!

What I find interesting is who Aziraphale and Crowley are, and how meaningful it would have been if God had actually chosen them to be the Godfathers of Humanity.

Crowley is the one who questions everything, right? And how does one learn? Through questions. Those who have children know what I'm talking about (no wonder God won't raise her kids herself, being humans or Jesus🙄). It is often said that Science (Man-made god) replaced God. And how does science work? Yes, questions again ! Goddamn, annoying, neverending, pain-in-the-neck questions… Curiosity is the first tool. It's curiosity Crowley injected into Eve, to tempt her into eating the apple.

Crowley is also the one who would suggest a suggestion box. Because he has… IMAGINATION…(here, you need to picture Aziraphale turning a turnip into… an INKWEEEELL… ). IMAGINATIOOOON…. That ability is very, very important. Should I say paramount? God being a writer, possibly a mixture of Pratchett and Gaiman, she can only treasure imagination. Imagination is what created Good Omens. Imagination is what allowed Crowley to stay in his burning car. It was Adam's tool to change reality. Human imagination brought War, Famin and Pollution to life and it's human imagination again, that of three quite ordinary kids, that destroyed them. Not a flaming sword, not an angel, not a demon, mere humans gifted with imagination. And free will. Gifts from a fairy godmother named Crowley.

Aziraphale? Aziraphale didn’t come empty-handed either.

Was he just passing by, fortuitously, when Crowley called out for help? Is it pure coincidence that they created the universe together in a no-sex-involved-whatsoever fashion? I mean, the higher-ups designed universes, universes, man! Big, complicated, extremely sophisticated things, but they couldn’t think of a system that’d be set into motion by a single angel? Come on… And was it just a hazard that Crowley and Aziraphale ended up together on Earth, with the mission of thwarting each other? (Balancing each other?)

No dice. What, then? Crowley is the darker shades of gray. Aziraphale is the lighter part of the spectrum. And God knows that. God knows that Aziraphale isn't as white as he looks, although he does look very white. How does she know that? Because she checked. And several times, if I were to guess. God sees everything. And yet, she asked Aziraphale what happened to the flaming sword. When he lied his way out, she could have punished him, but she just went quiet. She wanted to know 1) if he would lie, if he would dare stand up to Her to protect the children, and 2) if he would trust his inner compass.

Aziraphale has other strong suits. He’s very gay and bubbly, and fluffy, and fun, and embarrassing, and endearing, and adorable, and… yes, I’m in love with him, say you aren’t. At the same time, he is quite strong-minded and aware of being Crowley’s soft spot. He can have his demon do things to please him (to a certain extent), with just a cute glance or a frown. He is Crowley’s anchor.

What’s more, Aziraphale is very conservative, and not just where fashion and music are concerned. He has unwavering faith in God (I mean God, not the institution of Heaven) and nothing, not his love for Humanity, not his love for crêpes, not even his love for Crowley (not sure about the order here), will change that.

Last but not least, our favorite angel is intelligent. (Since it’s Pratchett and Gaiman saying so, it must be true.) He is the ONLY one to point out the existence of the Ineffable Plan. And the ONLY one to figure that it might diverge from the Great Plan. Without the need to hear it, he feels what the ineffable plan is. And that’s why he trusts God. Although he is able to admit the error of his ways, I don’t think he’ll be doing the "you were right” dance this time around. Third prediction. (Boy, do I wish that one isn’t accurate…)

Aziraphale and Crowley were chosen as godfathers because, together, they are the perfect balance, they are black and white and the entire spectrum in between. And somewhere in this spectrum is the most important thing in the universe. Although the ingredients may have been the same, I don't think Aziraphale and Crowley were created with the same recipe as the other angels. Neil just revealed on Tumblr that Aziraphale and Crowley together are a circle. They are perfection. This circle is what God wants for her children. A mind that has no beginning and no end, a God-like mind.

Aziraphale and Crowley intuitively know that. It’s the reason why they turn into an evil nanny and a good-hearted gardener, in hope their combined influences will make a real human being out of the Antichrist. It’s easy for them. Because, this is what they’ve been doing from the beginning! They spent their entire time on Earth playing the nanny and the gardener! For not one kid, but for all Humanity as a youngster. Aziraphale and Crowley are masters at it and it’s thanks to them that Humanity has learnt so much. Pay attention, it looks like they didn't do much, in the end, to prevent Armageddon. But they raised the kids who prevented Armageddon. Of course, the ineffable husbands got some help.

Earlier, I mentioned angels and demons being teachers. They’re all doing the same job, infusing humanity with both Good and Evil through temptations and blessing, having them make choices and watch the outcome. Here, I must say that in the story, (and in History) it feels like demons have all the easier parts, as their pupils seem to always be way ahead of them, from pretty much the beginning. “Yes, always this easy”.

“Light thinks it travels faster than anything but it is wrong. No matter how fast light travels, it finds the darkness has always got there first, and is waiting for it.” ― Terry Pratchett.

When Crowley creates the universe, what comes first? Darkness. He has to summon light into it to reveal the marvels it contains. Are humans like that? Darknesses that require some light (not too much, otherwise they’d go as blind as angels) to unravel their actual beauty? So. Angels bring light. And demons just have to make sure the darkness stays into place? Something like that. But… if angels and demons are both working towards God’s plan, how is it they keep bickering? Stop. Is there a scene, a single scene where they actually argue? I can’t remember a single one… They all want the same thing. Get the bloody job done so everyone can call it a day and go home.

Why then were demons demoted and casted away? Crowley doesn’t even seem to understand what happened to him…

I guess it’s time I talk about the rebellion and the fall.

***

The Principal

The Principal? Who’s that? The one above the teachers, of course! The Metatron!

THAT Metatron… You want to kill him right now, don’t you? You want to peel off his skin with a blunt knife, you… wait, he doesn’t have a skin… and he probably can��t die anyway. You want to drink his soul with the tiniest straw? Tie him to a chair in front of episodes of Dora the explorer? I feel you.

Not sure if the Metatron has a counterpart. In the novel, his counterpart is Beelzebub, but it doesn’t feel like they’re playing in the same league. I mean… God’s voice, right?

There is a theory going around in the fandom that the Metratron has been editing people's past/memories, using the Book of Life. That theory was written by an actual novelist and it did sway me. However, if it were completely true, it would probably bother me. First reason is I don't want what I already saw of Aziraphale and Crowley's first encounter to be fake, even in the slightest. Second reason is… If you have the power to edit people's lives, why be so subtle about it? Or does the Metatron think he can make surreptitious changes that God won't notice? Hm. I don't know. In the novel, The Book of Life doesn't exist. The one who can "arrange matters af is you never even existed" is Adam. Not sure if this goes against the theory or sustains it…

Here are my own theories. Plural. I gave that bastard a lot of thoughts. I’m afraid none of them involve the disparition of the eccles cakes, sorry.

At first, I had a theory in which the Metatron was instrumental in the rebellion and the fall. It went like this. The Metatron is the voice of God, the Spokesman, as Aziraphale put it. Only when God herself initiates a conversation do you get to talk to her directly. Otherwise, you have to go through the Metatron. (The reason why Crowly envies Job’s opportunity to at least "be able to ask the questions") The Metatron may decide to withhold your message AND answer whatever he wants. Could he have used his position to create a cleavage between God and some of her most powerful subjects? What for? To overthrow God and rule in her place. Demons were sent to Earth, of all the horrible places in such a vast universe, so they could draw strength from all the human souls they’d lure to Hell… So they would grow tougher, smarter and more dangerous.

But that doesn’t seem right. God can see everything, remember? Okay, she could be traveling between universes, leaving Metatrons behind, as governors. In that case, of course, things might happen that she doesn’t know of. Even so. She and Satan still talk to each other. They at least met once, when they made that bet about Job. Surely, any misunderstanding would have cleared up then? Besides, in the book, Crowley mentions talking directly to God, although She just smiled instead of answering. I don’t know. I do have another theory of the Metatron though. Way more simple. Everything was set up by God.

God needed teachers for her children, but with angels being all good, better and best, the kids would only have learnt half what they were supposed to know. Besides, how would they make choices? They would just become angels as well. Obedient, boring, sickeningly good angels. God has that already. So, how did God trigger the rebellion? By using the Metatron.

Let‘s take a moment to think about who, or should I say what the Metatron is. He is a voice. All he knows is what God can say. He is oblivious of everything God cannot or doesn’t want to say. By definition, he is that one part of God that can never be aware of the ineffable plan.

I came to think of the Metatron as an AI, with flawless logic. If SF has taught us anything, it’s that any purely logical mind would want to eradicate humanity, seeing it for the nuisance it is. The Metatron must think that God made a mistake. Maybe God went nuts? Eternity with Elgar… it kind of gets at you after a while… Luck of the devil, the Metatron is there to save the day! What’s that universe where angels go around falling in love with each other, anyway? Nonsense! It's all because of humans' malfunctioning minds.

The Metatron’s sacred duty is to destroy humanity, if it is the last thing he does. To achieve that, he sees to it that a certain number of angels go rogue. Then he sends them to Earth so when the second war breaks out, the entire human race will go as collateral damage. In this case, the Metatron is the one who picked the evil teachers. He did the dirty job, unbeknownst to himself.

Another scenario is that the Metratron has nothing to do with the rebellion and is only striving to stick to the Great Plan, after Armageddon went sideways. In that case, God herself picked the teachers.

In both cases, the question is, was there actually a war? We all noticed how vague Crowly is about the fall, even while talking to himself. "Next thing you know i'm going a million light-years, freestyle-dive into a pool of boiling sulfur." And he can’t remember the guys he is supposed to have fought alongside with. There is some memory tempering here, or I don’t know anything. Either no Great War at all, or a war without Crowley. My bet is a war without Crowley. I read something in the book, can't remember what exactly, but I jumped and said “There must have been an actual war!” Besides, one explanation for a disabled angel like Saraqael could be a war wound. I guess?

Crowley sounds like he loves God, as much as Aziraphale does. This scene, where he snakes around his executive chair, saying "You said you’d test them". Maybe it’s just me, but I read hurt and love in his eyes, love for the world? Love for Aziraphale? Love for God? The reason why Crowley is dead set against going back, isn't it because, or partially because he feels he was betrayed by the One he loved and trusted most? I don’t think Crowley could have gone against God and seriously, how much trouble can you get into, just for asking a few questions? But then, if you’re going to submit your questions to the Metatron, who can’t entertain the concept of a flaw in the system…

***

The final tests.

It's like shoving a knife into the heart of a cake to see if it is well cooked. There's no way around the knife I'm afraid. God needs to find out if her children are fully grown humans. But what does this mean for Her? What does it mean, should it mean, for any parent?

It should mean that the young adults are now able to think for themselves, elaborate strategies to survive on their own, fight and overcome whatever life will throw at them, and… become a better version of their parents.

This is no longer high school, lads. This is college. So exams come in two waves. Midterm. The students have to prevent/overcome/survive Armageddon. And they do.

Armageddon didn't happen. Free will happened. Adam refused to follow his predetermined path and asked both sides to stop meddling into people’s affairs so humans can start to think for themselves. His friends rejected the nightmarish world that was left to them as a legacy. Dog became his own dog and is probably playing hide and seek with cats right now. Anathema decided to stop living according to a book written by her ancestor, NO MATTER how useful and accurate the predictions.

Yet another message here. Don’t let people tell you who you are and what you’re supposed to do. Your life and every choice at every turn are yours to make.

Notice that both God and Agnes sort of vanish at the end of season one. Agnes’s book is burnt by Anathema, and God goes silent. As if something happened that changed the course of what was already written. It's like Adam said: what is written doesn't matter. You can always cross it out. The great plan stopped right there.

And the ineffable plan took over. The ineffable plan is written by human beings in a decade-long essay that will decide if they passed the final test or not. (Of course, they pass, the show is called Good omens! Another prediction, gosh I'm so good, this is beginning to scare me!).

At this point, I think God is satisfied already. I mean if God is a writer and her characters achieved enough self-awareness to write their own story, then… they're real! I suspect writers' secret dreams have always been just that. Playing gods, creating universes and bringing characters to life! Not as puppets, but as sentient beings who will do as they please once the author rests their pen (closes their laptop, let’s be modern… but without bebop). I'm sure Sir Pratchett, having tea with Death, is kicking his feet at this very moment, seeing how many fans have fallen in love with either Aziraphale or Crowley or both and are spending so much time imagining the rest of their adventures.

A clue in the book. When Anathema burns the second Book of Prophecies, the smoke takes the shape of a smiling Agnes who winks at the world. I will always wonder if anything was written in that so-called sequel… Agnes wrote her book for her descendants and God wrote the Great Plan for her children. They must both be very proud that their offspring have finally spread their wings!

Now Humanity has cut the strings and gone from puppet to real living being. And that's where the fun begins. Because there is more to being a human than meets the eye. And this is what season 3 will be about. Oh, I know, it doesn't seem like there is an invisible imho. It's because there isn't! XD

***

The Second Coming, or season 3.

The concept of the Second Coming confuses me a great deal. Because of Jesus. The story doesn't seem to really involve Jesus as we know him, the one and only, the miracle doer, the precious son of God. There is a Jesus who ends up on a cross, alright, but no one says anything about him being special or performing miracles or anything. At the same time, there is an Antichrist, miracles measured in lazari and a second coming ( of Christ, I presume?). I went and picked some people's minds on Reddit. They had several interesting opinions, involving the third baby, Greasy Johnson, Muriel being Jesus under cover, and angels not minding the boss's son who only got this far through nepotism.

We see Christ nailed to a cross in the opening credits of season 2 and we see him again on the banner of the resurrectionists. All this considered, it looks very much like Jesus will have something to say about what happens next. I hope not, for it would probably feel like a Deus ex machina to me. That said, I think that the most important thing about Jesus has already been stressed out, his message.

Anyway, Jesus or no Jesus, there should be, as mentioned in the Scriptures, mass extinction, resurrection, judgment and either punishment or reward. Unless… the Scriptures don't apply anymore, since the great plan went down the loo and the new writers certainly don't want to see the world go to ashes. Unless… Wait. Wait a sec. We're talking about… humans! Hh!!!! That's it. We're baked. Literally. Nice knowing you.💀

And so what? What if humans only achieve self-destruction? Their choice. At least they got to choose.

But that's not really what I expect from season 3. Again. Good Omens.

After not-Armageddon, humans were granted a little time to study further. What will they learn? I don't think there can be a not-Second Coming. That would really be underwhelming, not to say disappointing. There has to be a planet-size all-out war at the very least, with pupils going berserk against their teachers (serves them well for highjacking nuclear weapons designed by their students! ) Only when the teachers have bent both knees, can the students show… mercy, kindness, compassion.

Love?

Jesus's message was "be kind to each other". Neither angels nor demons know how to do that. Both are cruel, cold and unforgiving. Heaven wanted to kill Aziraphale just like Hell wanted to kill Crowley. God on the other hand, used Agnes's last prophecy to save them, from what would have been real death…

God is much more than the sum of her angels, Good and Evil. Mixing good and evil triggers a chemical reaction that is the actual secret recipe to God's purest, greatest form of power. Yes. Love.

Aziraphale and Crowley drew enough strength to perform a 25 lazari miracle because they became one AND risked everything to protect their former enemy. They showed compassion and granted forgiveness (not to mention hot cocoa!). Gabriel and Beelzebub only love each other. They're not perfect together. Aziraphale and Crowley grew feelings that go further and run deeper than just romantic love. They experienced and mastered every aspect of love.

Every day, it's getting closer, love like yours will surely come my way…

Love is the last lesson. And the last gift. Now I know it sounds like everybody will end up naked with flowers in their hair… I for one wouldn't mind such a scene… I mean, if it's for the sake of the plot, what can you do?👀

… Anyway, that's how the students, following the example of the masters, embraced both sides of their true nature to become more than Heaven incarnate or Hell incarnate. They learn how to love and pass the final test! Last prediction. Almost last.

***

“There was never an apple, in Adam’s opinion, that wasn’t worth the trouble you got into for eating it”. At the end of the book, (Warning! spoiler ahead!) Adam, "half angel, half devil, all human, is slouching hopefully towards Tadfield.

... for ever."

For. Ever.

Aw, I forgot a gift, I'm afraid… Eating the apple was the path not to death (for man was probably created mortal as everything else). Eating the apple was the path to immortality. Crowley did the right thing. And so did Aziraphale. Adam is immortal because he is a successfully completed human. He's not the only one. They who were created in the image of God, the children of God, have become…

new Gods.

After that? Well… I guess the Bentley will become her own car and go with yellow and the self promise never to play a Queen song, ever again. The new gods may throw Earth into the trashcan since it's worn out anyway. Or maybe they'll restore it? Somehow I'm not afraid for books. I have a hunch that books will survive… Perhaps some of the gods will join the distant lights that "may or may not be stars?" They'll be like seeds, they'll travel through darkness to create new universes, new god factories…

What? Aziraphale and Crowley? They don't have to choose sides anymore. They were always on the same boat. And God loved, loves, them both. They can just love each other and be who they want to be. Adam, who could read Aziraphale and Crowley's minds, said: “I know all about you, don’t you worry”. Everything will be just fine.

What are they doing right now? Not sure. They're writing their own story too. But I guess it involves flying at the speed of light (or the speed of darkness?) to find the best spots for having picnics and reading books and listening to nightingales. I'm sure they'll stop by Paris. Somewhere near my house? I know a nice place for crêpes…;)

#neil gaiman #terry pratchett #aziraphale #crowley

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