#we still have a little bit left and it's heavenly and I also have no idea where I could get more because it was bought for us as a gift

[thethingything]

trying to buy some pasteurised honey and everything that comes up when you search that is either "here's the difference between raw and pasteurised honey" or "here's why we never pasteurise our honey. our raw honey is so much better than any of that pasteurised stuff" and like yes I know raw honey is amazing and I would love to eat it but our body flips its shit if I have any kind of encounter with pollen so if I could just find some of the pasteurised stuff that'd be great thanks.

on a slightly funnier note though I now know where I could theoretically buy a 3.5kg bucket of raw wildflower honey if I wanted to

[moonstruckme]

Hi! I dont know if you write smut, but if you do, I was wondering if you could do a bestfriend!james and reader going further above the just touching? Like, they're cuddling and then suddenly grinding, leading to some you knooow!! Hehe, thank you!

I do ! This one is fairly tame though, sorry, it just felt more right for them in the moment. Thanks for requesting babe <3

cw: pg-13 smut

bestfriend!James x fem!reader ♡ 658 words

James is hardly the poster boy for cleanliness, but even he won’t stoop to getting in bed with jeans on. Which is how the two of you always end up like this, curled up under his covers and pantless for a midafternoon nap. 

The first time you did this, you were hardly able to sleep, but now it feels fairly normal. It helps that you’ve got the world’s least sexy underwear on, full-coverage and worn, a pinkish beige color that you suppose was probably supposed to be someone’s skin tone but you’d only bought as part of a multipack. And James has the comfiest bed in the world, a weighted comforter and the sort of heavenly mattress only generational wealth can procure. His arm is strewn loosely over your side, his front pressed to your back, and his breath is a steady rhythm on the nape of your neck. You’ve never felt so blissfully warm and heavy. 

You know without knowing how that James is starting to wake up just like you are, slow and lazy. You stretch out a leg, feeling the muscles tense all the way up your back, and he splays his hand on your abdomen as though to keep you in place. Makes a soft, sleepy sound. 

Later, you’ll say that you don’t even remember deciding to do it. Maybe you’re too tired to think straight, maybe you’re still halfway in a dream, but you nudge your hips back into James. A subtle movement. Incidental. 

Only, James nudges back. And he tilts his head so his mouth moves closer to your shoulder, mumbling something incoherent into your skin. 

It feels good. You keep going. After a while, his hand has migrated up to cup your tit, not hard, not squeezing, just a lazy perusal of unexplored skin. There’s not much of your skin James doesn’t know, but this is some of it. 

There’s a nice, sluggish warmth seeping into your core, sweet as a river of honey. Your breaths are still relaxed, syncing now. 

“James,” you whisper, his name hardly more than breath. 

“Yeah.” His hand trails back down to your hip, helping you turn over. “C’mere.” 

Your mouth practically falls onto his. There’s no parting of lips, no tentative pecks. Your mouths find each other warm and open. James tastes like basil, the pasta you’d had for lunch, but somehow also like himself, like even his saliva is a little bit sweeter than everyone else’s. 

You end up on top of him through a team effort, your leg hooked over his and his hands helping you the rest of the way. He holds your hips gently, guiding you back and forth over him. 

It’s slow and easy, like leaves swaying in the breeze or the tide coming in. So natural you wonder if this is actually the first time it’s happened. Maybe you and James have been doing this, somewhere just outside the reaches of your consciousness, forever. 

“Jamie,” you say in between kisses. Your voice hardly sounds like yours, breathy and still stretched with sleep. “What’re we doing?” 

“Dunno.” James’ voice sounds just as lax. It’s oddly comforting. “Don’t stop, yeah?” 

You weren’t planning on it. You let your head fall beside his on his pillow, face nestled in the downy softness of his curls while you kiss at the skin behind his ear. 

James makes a murmured sound of encouragement. His thumb begins to make smooth, indolent circles over the fabric of your underwear. 

“I fucking love these ones,” he sighs. 

You guess they’re not so unsexy after all. Once you decide you’re done with his neck, he takes a turn, slipping your sleeve off your shoulder to give you a pretty mark just to the left of your collarbone. Your bodies are warm everywhere they touch, that heat in your core a steady comfort. 

You don’t talk any more. You fall back asleep with your nose smushing into his cheek. 

[halemerry]

Alright, not to be too predictable, but I wanna talk about space and color as it's used in the intro to episode 1 for a minute. And you know, show some gorgeous space shots.

So we open in the dark. There's distant lights and the occasional flare from them moving through space but for the most part we get the angel that would eventually become Crowley alone in enough darkness that he himself isn't even giving off particularly significant amounts of light.

But then, enter Aziraphale. He arrives in a big ball of blue light shining above him that really emphasizes Crowley's red hair. They get tied to the colors we most often see them attached to, especially in promotional materials.

From here the entire scene gets slightly brighter, even once Aziraphale's light dims down. They're both lit up once they're together, even it the middle of literal nothingness.

They start the universe next, using Crowley's hand crank, which gives off a magic that's a combination of their two colors - purple.

A very similar color to this shows up in heaven as a signal flare for their accidentally too powerful half a miracle. It's a color tied to a miracle so big it could've revived someone 25 times and also a miracle that got the engine of the universe running.

And then. Creation starts. Our first image is a very Heavenly aesthetic. It's a blueish light cutting through the clouds much like Az just cut through the dark.

And what explodes from that is the thing that set me down this little rabbit hole in the first place: it's purple scattered through with red and blue lights.

As the initial burst fades, the blue and the red separate, the color fading except for this tiny blue dot and this growing red zone on the right.

The blue then fades, leaving us with an extremely Crowley coded palette here and a very orangeish red. There's shades of gray, a little bit of light, but not nearly as much color. As the sequence moves the darkness grows but does start slowly filling with small points of light.

We then end up with shades of gray both light and dark. There's balance here, even if it's not particularly colorful.

And then all at once a pinkish red bursts forth with these intense clawing tendrils. At the core of it, from the heart of it, is a bright blue ball of light.

It fades into a blue heart surrounded by darkness with whisps of white resembling a certain someone's hair. Or, as some friends pointed out two people embracing.

As the nebula settles a few other colors set in but the primary scheme is still red and blue. An almost violent plume of red emerges on the left side of the image.

And from this moment on most shots of the two of them back them with their respective color schemes.

They chat and Aziraphale gets anxious. He looks for a distraction and is immediately drawn to the space where the colors mix.

And as we fade out the other colors in the picture fade. We get the most balanced blue and red get. And on the far corners fairly clear dark and light.

So what does this mean? The purple speaks to them being very powerful together. And, the rest is arguably just representative of the plot. We have Aziraphale as a beacon in the dark - a signal flare we know Crowley has throughout history been aware of and drawn to. We have them brightening each other. We have Az's color breaking out of heaven to mix with Crowley's to create something new and wonderful and powerful. Aziraphale's color fades, leaving Crowley alone. We then get a burst of a red closer to Crowley's current hair, with Aziraphale's blue in the core of it that eventually becomes a blue heart surrounded by darkness. That too fades, replaced by the pillars becoming their familiar hand shape and slightly more colors seeping in. As they talk together and move closer together their own colors settle back in and come to balance.

[sergeantkitty]

Y'all, my man Lucifer just likes himself some duckies.

Anyway, feel free to read through my rant of why I think he likes ducks so much. SPOILERS for S1 Ep8 toward the end.

(Click image for better quality.)

So in case you don't know, there's this famous(ish) Christian story called "The Devil and the Duck". I'm gonna try my best to summarize it here.

This boy gets a slingshot as a present and decides to be a little shit and impulsively uses it to shoot his grandma's pet duck. This kills the duck and the boy feels extreme guilt. His stupid bitchass sister reveals that she saw the whole thing and holds the boy's guilt over his head (remember this phrasing for later) and makes him do her chores and stuff for him, using what he did as blackmail and a guilt-trip.

The boy for a while keeps doing his sister's bidding until he cracks under the guilt and exhaustion from all the chores, and in a break down he apologizes to his grandma, admitting what he did to the duck. The grandma then reveals that she saw what happened from a nearby window, and although she was deeply hurt by what the boy did, she still forgave him immediately. She says that she'll always love the boy since he's her grandson and that seeing his immediate regret was enough for her. She was just waiting for him to admit it, apologize, and stop letting his sister manipulate him.

In the story the boy represents humanity/any person, the sister represents the devil, and the grandma represents God/Jesus. The boy commits a horrific sin and feels immense guilt over it and the sister/devil holds the sin over his head and tries to convince him to do her bidding since the sin was so great that there's no way that grandma/God could forgive him. The lesson of the story's pretty obvious from there: don't let the devil guilt you with your sins into giving up and turning against God since God sees all your sins and faults and still loves you and forgives you anyway, so long as you apologize and repent for your sin against him.

I think Lucifer as we see him in Hazbin Hotel is placing himself both as the devil (obviously) but also the boy in the story. He's clearly interpreted more as a sympathetic, guilt-ridden figure. He surrounds himself with memorabilia of his greatest regret: the downfall of man (hence the apples and snakes.) Now keep in mind that I've highlighted the phrasing of "holding over [one's] head", well that's because that's the specific phrasing used in the story. Now look at Lucifer's hat. It has the snake and apple. Lucifer is LITERALLY holding his greatest sin over his own head and has given up on his dreams and happiness in favor of doing the bidding of his own personal devil: his depression. He's let himself whither away in isolation and gave up on trying to be a proper king for the people he granted free will to since in his mind they're all wretched sinners abusing that gift. All he sees is the bad side of humanity.

I think to him the duck symbolizes the dreamer still inside him, that bit of hope left in him, that hope that even though he's the cause of evil in humanity he'll still one day be forgiven and maybe even be let back into heaven. We see heavenly figures like Sera and Emily feeling clear sympathy for him in S1 Ep6. They don't hate him, they just fear earning the same fate. Even going into S1 Ep8 we see him decide to stop letting his depression rule over him and help Charlie redeem sinners. He's working to, in some way, repent for his greatest sin because, thanks to Charlie, he's seeing the good in humanity again.

Do I have any way of knowing if this is even REMOTELY accurate? ...No... but I like the thought of this being the reason behind Lucifer's duck hyperfixation, and I haven't seen anyone talk about this or bring this possibility up. Anyways, thanks for reading my little rant :3

[thewinchestah]

"Chega de Saudade" - Alastor X Reader fic

Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader.

Summary: When Alastor breaks into the V's building seven years later he expects to find a lot of things, lot of obnoxious, enraging, tacky things. He did not expect to find you. The Radio Demon does not take betrayl lightly and you have to live with the consequences of selling your soul to his worst enemy. Better yet, you have to live with the consequences of selling your soul to Vox and Alastor finding out. The soul you sold because Alastor left you for 7 years. Safe to say, it's a mess. A pretty, angsty, dark and delicious mess.

Warnings: Alastor is in Hell for a reason,general hellish violence,general hellish creepiness,eventual smut, i carioca coded valentino bc i can and bc he is very carioca sorry everyone,blackmail, Soul Selling, author is really invested in politics and decided to micromanage hazbin hotel canon, Corruption, Extortion, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, but nothing too explicit,mature themes in general, canon divergence, Not Canon Compliant, Eventual Smut, Alastor gets insane in this one you've been warned, fear play, Possessive Behavior, posessive sex, big bad radio demon is gonna fuck up the guy who stole his girl and will make it everyone's problem, Reader-Insert,no y/n,no beta we die like men here, i feel bad for tagging vox in this fic cause i think it's a disservice i really hate him and i make it clear so vox stans be warned, it's hell i hope y'all remeber ethics are fluid, posessive!Alastor, unhinged!Alastor, Isane!Alastor

Taglist: honestly only my queen @jyoongim i have no credibility to tag anyone anymore after being away for so long. If you wanna be tagged on future updates just let me know!

A/N:HI HEY BUNNY ANON IF YOU ARE STILL HERE THIS ONE FOR YOU!! Hiii everyone guess who's back. I had this fic cooking for a while now, actually i had a lot of writing cooking but in a very Ao3 author fashion a lot happened. You see i was on this writing streak and then my 15yo dog died while i was out of state. I had to go back on anti depressants and take a sabbatical. I got a new puppy and she's the light of my life. Got super sick, won a horse show. My first plan for this fic was having the first 3 chapters done and ready for debuting together because i always feel i'm lacking when i show up with only one chapter lol. After a while i realised i needed to get this first chapter out too see the light of day if i wanted to write again so here it is. This fic is a bit different from my other Alastor fics and i have a rough outline of 5 chapters so i think this beast will be more than 20k words long for sure. I decided to get a little deeper into Hell's politics and all the "no one ever thought of using heavenly weapons against hell even tough Hell's ancient and the best worst of humanity and demonkind is here". I call that bullshit sorry i'm brazilian i'm well versed in shady politicians and shady politics and unfortunatly, dear reader, you are in for this ride too. This fic kicks off right after "Stayed Gone". Also did i mention i'm brazilian and that my works are heavily inspired by brazilian media. This entire fic was inspired by one of my favourite songs of all time "Chega de saudade". And let's be real, Alastor and bossa nova are the perfect match. So yeah, english is not my first language and this isn't beta'd so sorry for any confusion or mistakes. Thank you so so much for reading my fics and always leaving the most kind beautiful and heartwarming feedback. I hope i can still deliver a nice story to my darling readers.

Click here for my other fics.

CHAPTER ONE: chega de saudade a realidade é que sem ela não pode ser.

In the first year you were calm and collected. There’s a perfectly reasonable explanation to why he is gone. Is he even gone, gone? He’s coming home soon, you can feel it. 

In the second year you convinced yourself there were signs everyone explaining why he was gone and when he was coming back, you were just too oblivious to them before. But everything can be a sign when you are delusional.

In the third year you cried so much you felt you were constantly drowning. You barely left home and some thought you were gone too. Gone to him.

In the fourth year you finally gave in and took the deal. Lack of self-preservation and machiavellian schemes working together to create a trap for him. He would come home out of anger, ire. But you can't outfox the fox.

In the fifth year you decided to scour hell and beyond after him. You went to places just to taunt him. Paranoia became your best friend, blood sweat and tears as you repeat “This time it will work, I'm sure of it”. Can a lie be said so many times it becomes the truth?

In the sixth year you accept defeat. You buried him deep and went about like he never existed in the first place. Isn’t it mystifying how this city screams his name?

It’s the seventh year now. The alarm on your phone rings and rings and you feel like scratching your face off. It’s time to meet your damned executioner.

Rolling out of bed you open the curtains to let some light in. The penthouse from the V’s building has a great view of Pentagram City, looking down you get the feeling of dystopian sci-fi that is so characteristic of the technology district. Limelights, digital outdoors, and big opulent, oppressing screens greet you like a constellation of dead stars, long distorted from their original purpose and form. 

You follow processional routine as you get ready. Choose a beautiful dress, put on make-up, and do your hair. It all feels like preparation for a sacrifice. One thing you learned from Alastor is that appearances are the best strategy and you intend to greet your handmade battlefield like a roman legion. 

Alastor. Even thinking of his name hurts, especially today when you need to face the consequences of your actions, the consequences of his actions. He is gone, he left you. And now Vox owns your soul. You blame your fall from grace entirely on him, he forced your hand, he made you do it. Out of desperation, out of defiance, you sold your soul to Vox so he would come back and save you, so he would come back out of hatred, anger and ire to tell how foolish you were, how betrayed he felt.

Betrayal. Selling your soul to his sworn arch enemy should be treason worthy of him dropping anything he was doing to come and punish you, to address you. You just wanted to get a reaction out of him, proof that he still cared. That he didn’t just get bored of the empire of terror he fought so hard to build in Hell. That he didn’t, deep down, just disregard you like a shiny novelty, to be left when it got old. 

You dry the persistent tears that insist on falling with clinical coldness. You are past feeling sad now, you don’t even feel angry anymore. You are past any emotion really, you just want to get this over with and get back home.

You went about your deal with Vox in many different ways, sometimes you felt like it was a good alliance, a slap on Alastor’s face. A side quest to gather as much information from the V’s inner circle, a social experiment. The truth is, during these past almost four years you were a mental gymnastics pro to justify your new arrangements. The cognitive dissonance required to live with the decision of being forever tied to Vox was an herculean task and boy he didn’t make it any easier on you. He would never be as refined as Alastor when it came to torture but there’s something about the coldness and calculated reality of the television business that was it’s own type of Dante’s inferno.

As soon as he got word of Alastor’s disappearance the TV overlord was on your scent, and he wasn’t shy about it either. You dodged him and led him on for almost four full years before finally giving in, everything was more or less under control during the early years of Alastor’s disappearance. 

Until you saw the angel army leaving.

  Death and gore were all around you. The sky rained blood. You couldn’t breathe. You tried to take a step forward only to realize you were knee-deep in demon blood. Adam was particularly ruthless this time, he seemed to have realized the unbalance in Hell’s power structure with one of the most prolific demon overlord’s absence and took full advantage of it. You choked on the sulfur filled air while the portal closed and Adam threw a last middle finger at the Pride Ring. A clawed hand offered you support as you were about to fall, your heart skipped a beat, for a split second you felt elation. In that split second a thousand thoughts, four years of misery and confusion passed through your mind like a movie. You were sure this was Alastor, showing up after the unprecedented carnage of today’s reaping. With the next heartbeat came the delivery of the most cruel reminder: the hand reaching for you was Vox’s. Alastor doesn’t care about anything anymore, not even losing territory. 

The TV overlord was covered in thick, red blood and looked vindicated, a wide chesire’s cat grin on his face. Baptized in carnage, Vox had finally triumphed for the V’s.The V’s were now a force to be reckoned with in Hell, there’s no argument to be made.  A good chunk of Alastor’s territory was now under their control, and everything that came with it too. Including you. 

“My darling doe, be careful, we can’t have you hurt after the battle is won can we?” 

Darling doe.

You threw up at the casual cruelty of the name Alastor called you with such affection being desecrated by Vox. He still supported you as you spilled your guts, you’d blame it on the nerves, the adrenaline, the reeking smell of death. Not on the fact that you knew he finally won, that the thing that broke you was to hear your name like that, on your lover archenemy’s lips. After that it happened. You sold your soul to vox. Of course he coerced you into it, and you were so mad with grief and betrayal that you felt like betraying Alastor back was the just thing to do. Pettiness and paradoxical hope dripping from your lips as the whole thing was done. 

Every year this same flashback assaulted your mind as you got ready to meet Vox on the anniversary of your deal. It never went past the look you gave those pixelated eyes as he held you on that barren land, stopping right there when you made the decision that finalized your ruin. You still wouldn’t, couldn't face what really went down when you formalized your deal with Vox. Those memories were suppressed and tucked in under layers and layers of regret and self-hatred. 

You gave yourself a final look in the mirror. No makeup smudging this time, you were getting good at numbing your feelings. Just a few tears, no more sobbing.

The yearly meeting with the V’s after the extermination was the perfect cover actually, everything was done in a way that it seemed like you were all cooperating. After all, you did hold a very good knowledge of the inner workings of Alastor’s deals, subordinates and territory. You knew who the V’s could “call in favours” and how to keep the peace. Or as close to peace as peace came when an abrupt power transition happened in Hell. You were a valuable asset to anyone really. Articulated in politics, masterful at the art of persuasion, kind, soft, charismatic, assertive, all in perfect balance, and frankly, breathtakingly beautiful. It wasn’t without reason that Alastor fell for you and that you became his most trusted advisor. You and Rosie were able to conceal his absence and manage his affairs for good two years and the better part of the third without raising any suspicion. Of course, the bigger they are the harder they fall and now you were walking down the corridor of the V’s building carrying a bulk of important intel that would dictate the fate of the Overlord power structure for the next year, at least. 

The hallways of the building changed a lot since you first walked them. As the V’s grew in power, the building grew in grandeur. It was now an imposing beast, looming over Pentagram City. Modern corporate architecture that incorporated the savage capitalism of Vox Tech. Savage, cold, sterile, overbearing that’s how being inside the lair of Hell’s most up and coming trio felt. The tall ceilings and big glass windows were exactly what you would expect of a broadcasting network and silicon valley Big Tech company combined. As an esteemed guest, you got the privilege of staying in the coveted penthouses, with someone to attend to your every wish and demand. You also got an idea that Vox went a little extra with your treatment as a form of flirtation, he has been trying to convince you into moving in for a while, every time you stayed in, your usual penthouse had some shiny new thing that was  made just for you, as he repeatedly emphasized. 

This year’s token of affection was a makeup mirror-gadget-thingy, that looked out of a Totally Spies episode. You had to admit to yourself that this was way more thoughtful and useful than the gifts from the previous years. The thing was cute, practical and would come in handy, which was a big improvement. Vox had tried to sway you with all types of guns and high tech devices in vain. Well, there was also that embarrassing stance with the wire flowers with a hidden recording device. Needless to say that after that entire debacle Vox learned that he may own your soul but you weren’t a damsel in distress and you would reinforce your side of the bargain if he went too far. 

You reached the elevator and went in, pushing the button for your destination. 

The earlier you start this the earlier it is over, you remind yourself.

The panoramic elevator descended to the well guarded conference room, the guards didn’t bat an eye to you entering. You realized you were becoming a familiar face around here, that made you dread what’s ahead of you even more.

“There she is! Hello princesa, I missed that pretty face!” Valentino greets you. He’s the only one inside, sitting on the edge of the table.  Well, that’s unusual… you think. Vox was always the first to get to the post-extermination meetings, plus he always gave you a slightly early timetable so he could have some alone time with you. Something must be going on.

“Hey Valentino, it’s nice to see you too! What gossip do you have for me today?” you give your best chirpy tone to the love moth. Look, you know how bad Valentino is, he is despicable really, even to your standards. But ethics are fluid, to say the  least, in Hell. The acclaimed porn king was surprisingly engaging to talk to. He was fun and actually treated you like a person, which was paradoxical in itself, considering how infamous he is for exploiting and commodifying souls. You drove yourself mad with theories of possible agendas behind Valentino’s kindness towards you, but it was the simplest of answers really, for some reason Valentino liked you and he never denied himself of what he liked.

“You have no idea! We have a lot to catch up on, did I tell you about that bitch who was trying to spy on us?” a set arms gestures to you to sit down next to him. The next 10 minutes are spent talking frivolities with the moth. You’re not complaining, it's nice to get your mind off this dreadful day and you don’t get many. 

Valentino, as always, has a lot to say, little goes on in Hell without him knowing who, what, where and why. Information, gossip, rumors, facts, if a single out of context word can be weaponized  you better be aware that he knows. Pentagram city can be divided into districts and ruled by lots of different overlords, still, Valentino’s intricate web of influence and coercion stretches across all territories. Another poor soul manifests here and goes somewhere they should not be, talk to someone they should not talk to, discover something they should never know. All cases of “wrong place at the wrong time” are happily solved by a large sum of money from the moth and suddenly another thread is weaved into his web of knowledge, another secret  made his. Valentino doesn’t operate like most Overlords and that’s where his power  lies. He bribed and fucked his way into every major circle, every  overlord’s inner circle, Hell’s best kept secret. If you were anyone in the hellish afterlife Valentino either fucked you or fucked someone very close to you. 

Knowledge is power, and Hell’s gossip girl was proof of it.

You swallowed a lump you didn’t know existed, hearing the moth talk about how things changed in a matter of hours during the early post-war made you even more aware of the severity of the intel you were carrying. It was earth shattering (no pun intended) information. 

Angels can be hurt. Angels can be killed. That meant a completely different way of existing in the afterlife, if this information goes public, the consequences are unpredictable and dire.

You don’t feel excitement knowing you technically can fight back, you feel pure dread.

To be completely honest, you feel like these “news” are not really news. You were pretty acquainted with politics back on Earth and this whole “omg no one knew about this! even though this was staring us right on your faces! is total bullshit. Hell is ancient, the exterminations are not a new thing, and there are some pretty smart people down here. To think that millenia after millenia masters of torture and skilled killers never thought of using heaven’s own firepower against them is wishful thinking at best. Sure, maybe after a few generations most sinners, even those who have power, may have been kept out of the loop about the chick in the holy army’s armor… but not knowing this at all just feels like a pretty convenient case of collective amnesia. 

Convenient, that’s exactly what this is. It’s brutal, but that’s Hell. A scheduled massacre is a blessing to those who rule to maintain, reinforce and extend their power. And if you get lucky enough, empires will fall and you will make your move. 

Vini Vidi Vici, that’s all you need to know about how Hell's politics work. 

It’s true that with every massacre the Angel Army gets more and more brutal and unhinged. What was once justified as righteous mercy killings to stabilize the ever growing hellish population now is just a display of cruelty, these angels kill for sport. There have been rumors floating around of how the disproportional annihilation tactics are preparation for something bigger for a while now , and with the demonic royal families either operating totally off Pride Ring or being completely MIA, it is no wonder those influential enough are starting to get restless. 

And that ties back to your first point, the thing that got you picking the skin around your nails while Valentino gossips. There’s a reason why this is being revealed now, you know how creating a narrative works, a few smart words and ideas become beasts of its own. A beast of its own that will tear anything on its way with the right fuel. The V’s have fuel to spare. Whose interest is that this information stayed hidden? Whose interest is that this information was allowed to be shared now? 

Hell is constructed by layers and layers of complicated militias and parallel governance, each one a locked room of secrecy that is impossible to enter without a huge amount of connections and power. 

“In a world of locked rooms, the man with the key is king. And, honey, you should see me in a crown” Valentino wisely said to you once. He’s a man of many many keys, and right now you are holding the fucking master key under your arm. 

Speaking of Valentino, he notices that you dozed off and snaps his fingers, grounding you back to reality. 

“My, my. You must have extremely sensitive information today to keep you from hearing the nastiest, hottest gossip of the moment babe” He takes a hit from his cigarette, an elegant and sensual move straight from an Old Hollywood film. The heart shaped smoke rings caress your face and for an instant you feel hypnotized, nodding your head profusely. 

“But I already knew that” behind the rose coloured shades, you see a playful wink from his infamous red hot eyes. 

The porn overlord quickly snaps his head towards the huge automatic doors, that open and reveal Vox and Velvette walking side by side exchanging looks between them that scream conspiracy.

“Sorry about the wait, my darling” Vox purrs on your way, stopping behind your chair and placing his hands on top of it, fingers dangerously close to your neck and shoulder. He pushes your hair to the side and lingers there, on your neck. “but as they say ain’t no rest for the wicked, am I right?” Velvette takes her seat beside Vox’s empty chair, meticulously placed in front of you, polite pleasantries leaving her mouth. She’s still a mystery, you never know her true stance on you, she keeps you on your toes. Does she like you? Does she hate you? Does she even care? 

“If you say so, boss!” you give him your best pageant smile. “So, who’s climbing up the ladder of the food chain today?” You bat your eyelashes at him. Your performance begins.

“Aw baby, you know I love when you call me boss! keep talking dirty to me” Vox lands a wet kiss on your cheek and makes his way to his chair.

 Right in front of you, so he’s always staring at you, drinking in your every move. You cannot fail, you cannot falter. 

As much as you’ve gotten used to pretending, pretending you like the V’s, pretending you don’t feel disgusting inside for being here, pretending you don’t hate Alastor for putting you in this situation with a burning passion but still missing him so much you feel someday your heart will stop beating in protest to him absence, it’s still hard. Especially when Vox touches you. Your eyes focus on cybersharks swimming behind Vox’s seat and concentrate on keeping your awarding winning poker face. 

“This year looks really promising I will tell you that! The orders for both your weapons and tragedy porn cameras doubled since the last extermination! I will give credit where credit is due, that fuckboy Adam knows how to put on a show!” he snaps his fingers graphs, stats and footage appears on the various screens. But it’s all irrelevant, it won’t matter when you spill your secret. 

“Lot’s of veeeery interesting happenings but I thought this year we might… start differently. Let’s forget the profit talk for now, change things a little. Did you guys see anything out of the ordinary? Did something stand out?!” he spins around his Big Boss ™ chair and stops with his hand under his chin, leaning in to you like a schoolgirl with the hottest new gossip. 

“Oh! I heard things -” Val also leans in getting closer to the TV overlord face. 

Vox’s grin shrinks, lifting a finger in protest 

“We know, we know, you always hear things Val” he replies in a monotone tone

Velvette, who spent this entire time typing away on her phone, interjects 

“Look, don’t take this the wrong way girlypop” finally looking at you she asks, or rather, states the million dollar question “ but what Vox means is that we know you have something  big cooking inside those files, so let’s drop the bullshit and go straight to it” 

The doll puts her phone down, she knows how important this is, how this secret will probably dictate how things will go from now on. You can call Velvette many things, but she is clever and under all that attitude and posh accent lies a brilliant strategist. 

“Plus, we all know you are contractually obligated to tell anyway, so spill, and can make this quick and painless to everyone involved” 

Right, your cartesian, empirical proof that angels can be killed.  Caught on the scene of the crime with the gun in your hands. 

You don’t waste anymore time, the words leave your lips like you’re choking with the threat they present. You tell them everything: where the exorcist was killed, how he was killed, the golden ichor blood that oozed from the wound, where the body was hidden. Everyone is silent while you speak, even the mechanical sharks seem to have stopped swimming to listen. 

After that you don’t remember much more of the meeting, it felt like you took the backseat of your own mind, the overwhelming feeling of dread making you so out of breath. Something is coming, something fucking coming and you can’t breathe. Anxiety sets under your skin like a second skeleton begging to crawl its way out and you find yourself sitting in one of the lavish anterooms of the V’s building. 

“So, the cat’s out of the bag then” you recall hearing Vox saying when, as if on cue, a few moments before the meeting was being declared over, the emergency broadcast about the reduction of the extermination date from a year to six months was issued. You four watch the transmission and you wonder if that’s what it feels like to get the news of the end of the Cold War, the doomsday clock finally hits midnight and we are nuking each other out. 

Mutual destruction assured. 

Your mind wanders back to your life on earth, if life up there is better or worse these days. You died so young, everybody told you, your Untimely Demise a big topic of conversation that you yourself didn’t know much about. But nothing, nothing in all of your living years and your years from Hell to eternity could prepare you for what comes next.

“So the Radio Demon is back in town! Why is he hanging around? What does it mean for your family?” 

The news hit your ears like a tsunami and you feel dizzy. It’s easy to find a big screen here and you are running to the closest one before your brain can even compute the words. 

Alastor is back, Alastor is back, and he didn’t come find you.

The next sound wave is even worse, dragging you ashore to your feelings without any reprieve. 

“Salutations!

Good to be back on the air! Yes, I know it's been a while, since someone with style treated hell to a broadcast

Sinners, rejoice!”

This isn’t a prank, there are no cameras and a sadistic tv host waiting for your humiliating reaction, instead all pairs of eyes in Hell are glued to the screen watching as the two Overlords fight it out. 

Thus, no one notices how your entire body shakes and your vision goes black. It’s too much, and you grip the rails from the stairs that lead to the foyer for dear life. Your heart is beating out of your chest. No one notices how you cry, how you whimper Alastor’s name like a prayer, how the tears run down your face and you feel paralyzed. You want to run, a million thoughts per heartbeat making your head swim. The best you can do is collapse on the floor. So you do, you collapse trying to catch your breath as you plan your sweet escape, how you are going to Houdini yourself out of this situation right to his arms.

“Tune on in

 when I'm done, your status quo will know its race is run”

You want to kiss him, you want to slap him, you want to tell him how much you missed him, you much your fucking hate him. You want him to drag you to his rooms and make you pay for cursing him out. You want him, you want your Alastor back. You cannot breathe.

“Oh, this will be fun.”

and then all the lights go out.

There’s a beginning of an uproar happening, the electric building dies a quick and unforgiving death, demons run around and Vox is flying down the stairs trying to do damage control. But even he is failing to keep his composure, because he knows. Oh how you know too. 

Alastor is like a natural disaster, a shattering force that bends everything on its way with the sheer force of will. The inevitable reckoning that comes to your town, that judges and executes everyone that you love. 

And now he is here. 

You see the burning red hot pair of eyes first, their predatory gaze hold the entire room hostage, looking for his prey and then they land on you. 

The piercing intensity of Alastor’s eyes, the flickering reds of damnation itself, regard you with surprise, elation and something more. So overbearing those eyes are, they make you shiver, bearing the weight of his gaze that penetrates deep into your soul. Your soul that is not yours anymore, it belongs to the man he hates, the man he despises. 

The Radio Demon’s towering frame closes the distance between you two in five long strides, you do your best to keep yourself upright and not cower at the sight of him. He looks like Rapture and righteous torture, coming to deliver your setance. Vox knows his sentence is being delivered here and now too, so he runs, runs to you.  You feel static and an electrifying pull, metal clinking. A chain. A glowing blue chain on your neck and Vox’s pulling it tight.

“What? what the fuck is going on? what’s this?” snapping your neck quickly towards Vox you whimper, you beg. The few seconds you stopped looking into Alastor’s eyes causing seething rage inside the deer demon, ire that makes the room tremble. 

‘“Talk over the radio, that way everyone can hear, baby” Vox says straight at Alastor, like it is a shooting gun. The look on the TV Overlord is maniac, a sideway cocky smile that drips pettiness. Just because Vox clearly lost this battle, with all tvs and electricity on petagram city going dark, it doesn’t mean he can’t still forever tarnish this victory. 

Alastor’s demonform covers the already dark building in opaque, thick shadows, radio static picks up around the room like a tornado chocking the majority of the unfortunate demons that are still inside, in a desperate attempt to seek shelter. 

No words leave the radio host’s lips as he grows even taller, breaking the posh entrance of the building, debris flying down causing even more damage, the tall glass windows shatter in a million pieces courtesy of his tentacles tearing down everything on their way. The sounds of destruction and despair are loud but you haven’t been listening to the world outside you and your returned lover’s radio dial eye’s for a while. A doe caught in the headlight of his eyes the best you can do in brace for the inevitable impact that is coming your way.

In a flash of his scarlet eyes a fire ignites, the flames born from it are unnatural, behaving like a hive mind to kill and destroy.

 You always knew that facing Alastor after these 7 years would not be easy, but you never imagine your reunion like this, in the midst  of pomppeian fire, a wild raw power, the oncoming storm that is Alastor when he attacks. 

Vox knows this fight is over, his ego hurt and today’s accounts always written as a victorious comeback from the Radio Demon, nevertheless, between the three of you Vox will always know who really won, who drew the last card, had the last laugh. He did, holding Alastor’s girl on a leash because he owns her. The soul of the woman the Radio Demon dared to love is his, the man Alastor despises with a burning passion, and that’s enough for now. 

The raging flames circle the three of you and without much more flair Vox drops his act, your chain disappearing from your neck. You drop to the floor, branching yourself on all fours. You consider crawling your way to Alastor, so you can explain, so you can cry, so you can beg. You don’t know for what exactly you will be begging for: your life? his forgiveness? his punishment? you just know a lot of begging and pleading will be involved. 

But the decision is made for you.

“Run, run my little darling doe” Vox commands “Run and do whatever you need to do” 

You get up on your feet in a completely ungracious move and Alastor’s out of the room instantly. The flames never touch you on the way out, the outside world greets you: a cacophony of screams, sirens, burning sounds, the infernal orchestra that becomes the soundtrack of your life.  

“Oh, and by the way” Vox screams from the threshold of the decaying building “we just got news that your place on Cannibal Town got trashed by some wayward sinners during extermination. But don’t worry you can always come home here, come home to me!”

You do your best to ignore his taunting, and you pray to whoever is listening that Alastor didn’t hear it. But it’s futile, the pavement where he is stepping cracks a dark cloud of static and shadows trail after him. He definitely heard and felt the implications of these words. 

“Al.. Al!” you scream running after your lover. 

Fuck, you’re still in heels, and those aren’t your running heels.

Kicking the damned shoes off you run faster, you cry harder and plead faster.

When you lived, your life always felt a bit surreal, weird stuff happened to you that you couldn’t really explain. People always joked that screenwriters of your life were the most creative people alive, the thing that happened to you never happened to anyone else. You died young, with a big, full life ahead of you, but you took this as gospel to your afterlife, after all everything related to your death was a mystery to you. But the things that happened to you living or dead were a raw reality impossible to make up.

 The uncertainty of your death only fuels your resolve to fight for the life you found in the afterworld. 

“Al, wait!” you are starting to get truly desperate, you need to get to him otherwise you are pretty certain you will drop dead here and now.

 “Alastor please, please listen to me” your voice failing, you finally choking from the smoke, from the suppressed tears. If Alastor doesn’t hear you now you are not sure you can carry on after him, you’re too tired too scared. You him to save you like the damsel in distress you are right now so bad.

Alastor dramatically comes to a halt. 

“I. am. Not. Having. This. Conversation. Here.”  his voice is staggered, still. Filled with static and a murderous edge to it. His long arms catch your wrist and pull you close, flush against his chest, you almost stumble but a powerful arm around your waist locks you tight to him. 

It’s the first touch in seven years, your legs shake at the realization that he’s real, he’s here. You lock your arms around his neck, the familiar fabric of his overcoat, the soft strands of his hair, they all feel like coming home.  

Something inside Alastor snaps when he remembers, when he feels how small you are in comparison to him, only one arm securing you safely to him. Some paradoxical fight starts inside him, wild wild want, wild wild rage against tameness, the docile calm you bring whenever you are at his side. 

The world disappears for a few seconds as darkness engulfs both of you,  inside the black moving vacuum only the two of you exist, greeting each other in bloody homecoming. 

Alastor takes you back to the Hotel, landing with a low thump inside his room. For a second his hand supports the small of your back, preventing you from falling forward. After all it’s been 7 years since you shadowtravelled with him, he knows you are terribly out of practice. 

His consideration towards you only lasts this precious second thought, because he makes his way across the room, creating as much distance as he can between the two of you. Your touch disarms him, he is aware of that since the first time your hand brushed against his, the first time his lips ghosted on top of your knuckles. If Alastor is touching you he is extremely likely to get soft, to remember how much you mean to him, what you do to him, so he will be merciful. And right now the last thing the deer demon wants is to be disarmed, to show you mercy. He can feel your betrayal burning inside his veins, clouding his judgment with ire and jealousy.

Alastor doesn’t fight those feelings, on the contrary, he lets them take him by storm adding fuel to his already bad temper. That’s the only way he can face you now, that’s the only way he can make you understand. 

You don’t get any time to gather your bearings, from the corner of your eye you notice a forest. His room is bigger on the inside and has a fucking conservation area but that’s hardly the most pressing matter at the moment. The pressing matter at the moment is that you are getting whiplash from touching your demon lover for the first time in seven years and his subsequent refusal to touch you, stationing himself across the room to you.

Why isn’t he with you? by your side as you ride the shockwaves of today together? You are scared, but above all you feel overwhelming sadness. 

“How did it happen?” he finally snaps, breaking the deafening silence. It’s the first time Alastor regards you, directly, in 7 years and the weight his words bare is so heavy you wish for more of the silence. “Tell me, how did it happen?” his eyes are wild, dangerously close to radio dials. 

“How did it happen? You tell me Alastor! You left me, you fucking left me!” you wish you could be your usually articulated self, you rehearsed this conversation so many times in your mind and in none of them you started with such venom on your lips. But it has been too long, and maybe the poison from all those years alone and afraid beside Vox drips through. 

The Radio Demon sees the tears that fall profusely from your big doe eyes, and they sting more than an acclaimed torturer like him could have anticipated. Alastor finds himself still disarmed, because with every single glistening tear that falls he can see how hurt, how scared you are. He is the only one allowed to make you scared, he owns your fear.

But that’s the problem isn’t it? He owns nothing. Vox does. And that realization turns him back to feeling seething rage. 

“So my mere absence is enough to change your devotion? Is me being here the only thing that stopped you from falling into his arms?” more poison. By the end of the night you both will choke on it. 

“Al.. Al” you are sobbing now, your throat tightens and it’s hard to breath it’s hard to speak. “ I had to do it. You don’t get it, you don’t get it.” your voice breaks “hemademedoit, hemademedoit!!”. You swallow half the words, whimpering, as if you say it fast enough the action will quickly become the past, as if the memories won’t haunt you. And yet the memories flood your mind

A dim-lit room, the smell of blood and something burning.

“He is gone baby, and he isn’t coming back”

Electricity makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. 

A stranger’s hand pushes the hair to the side of your face, dread creeps up inside of you.

“This is the only way my dear, the best decision you can make” 

The same stranger’s hand grab you by the waist 

“I’m the only one who can protect you now, you know that right?”

eyes that make you freeze, it’s hard to think. eyes that make it hard to say no.

“If this is hard for you, you can pretend that I’m him” 

a wrong type of static pricks your lips 

“This won’t hurt” 

a shockwave hits your body and it feels like you are being split open

You have to steady yourself on the closest piece of furniture. You cower as the repressed memories from the night you finally gave in to Vox assault your mind, trying to make yourself as small as possible, like he is coming back to do it all again. Cries and incoherent words leave your lips and you don’t know if you actually said what happened or if this entire time you have just been crying. You entire body hurts as you hyperventilate “Al, I’m so sorry” you whisper 

That’s what undoes Alastor, you curling yourself in a ball, defeated and scared at the ghost of the man he hates. You looking away from him like you are undeserving of him, of his punishment, of his love. Like you are tainted. Alastor can’t make the exact words of your confession about how it happened, but he heard enough. Vox would never make you come to him willingly, Alastor knows that. Whatever Vox did - and Alastor has a lot of ideas of what he did - he will pay double for it. 

 Alastor’s blackened heart shatters when he calls your name and you don’t look up to meet his eyes, like you always do. He was always your lantern for when you were drowning. He meant to break you, hurt you like that. He just wanted to make you come to him, beg for his forgiveness, beg him to soothe the pain. 

“Mon coeur, my sweet darling doe you are safe” Alastor voice goes so soft it hurts “Don’t fret, it’s in the past, it’s over, you are safe with me now as you are meant to be” he coos.

Still, you can’t read your lover’s mind. So you don’t know his heart is shattered, you don’t know how much he loathes himself for letting this get this far. You are so caught up on your own feelings, reeling the rage and the memories that you miss the softness of his voice and his outstretched hard and you inevitably choke on the poison. 

“No. No!” you snap “You don’t get to say that. You have no right to say that!” you scream as you get up “I’m not safe, I will never be safe because you weren’t there to protect me, you promised Alastor, you fucking promised” the poison is now inside you, heartstopping waves of hurt consume your body and sprit. Right now the same burning passion that makes you heart beat for Alastor makes you hate him too. You were never good with ugly feelings, you always pride yourself for being soft to be strong. Your kindness and act of rebellion during the hellish reality you lived. You were never good with bad feelings, so you do something you never thought you’d do.

You shove the Radio Demon, that man you love so much it drives you to insanity. You shove him because the shame is too much, all the ugly feelings ball up inside, convincing you that you don’t deserve him, that you already lost him. And you won’t survive his dismissal. 

You never talked back to him, you never raised your voice. Not because you were afraid to, but because you never had to, hence the reason why Alastor is so taken aback that your pitiful attempt of violence actually moves him from where he was standing. 

Alastor shoves you back, pushing you up against the wall with a searing kiss. He kisses you like you are his last chance at salvation, like he wants to be redeemed. He licks your lips as you struggle to catch your breath, pushing his hips hard against your core, making you straddle him. Alastor doesn’t grant you a moment of reprieve, his lips come crashing down on yours again, his tongue inside your mouth dancing to a madman’s tune. He does what he does best, he takes and takes and takes. He takes your breath away, he takes all the callous words that threaten to leave your lips, aimed at him. 

You succumb to your demon lover, your nails dig into his skin and he moans inside your mouth, he bites your lips enough to draw blood. In the end Alastor is still Alastor, and of course he gets all hot and bothered when fighting. You feel delirious with the taste of his lips, your blood and your salty tears mixing together, an unholy ambrosia. His hardness press just the right way to make you sing creating a current of desire after a seven year long drought. 

His hands are quick, ridding up your shirt making he grab your ass and then your hips, strong enough to bruise. His clawed finger is already tweaking your nipple that way he knows you love. Your bravado melts, in perfect synchrony to when he sinks his teeth deep into your neck, drinking everything: that wretched poison that tarnished your words, the sacred warmth of your blood. You moan his name like a prayer that he promptly answers, he’s kissing you like a drowning man again, your blood on his lips painting your lips red like you both just drank from the holy grail, his hand cups your other breast and you vow to never speak to him like that again, only if it’s gonna get you up against the wall like that with him. 

And then he stops. 

“I hope this kiss haunts you” he says, voice still drunk with desire, low and threatening. He swiftly moves you off him, walking away and creating the same distance from when this all started “haunts your every breath, finds its way inside your every waking moment until you are mad with regret” 

You are bewildered, eyes widening in disbelief. What is he doing? How can he go from 0 to a 100 so fast? 

“I hope this kiss haunts you, so you never forget that you were the only woman who ever had me at the palm of her hand and you decided to throw it all away with that calamitous cynicism of yours.” 

So that’s what’s happening. You can never expect to beat a master at his own game, Alastor is still cruel when he is merciful. When push comes to shove he will always win. There’s only so far you can get with taunting his repentance,  playing with his heart laid bare at your feet, filled with sorrow and begging for forgiveness. He was ready to apologize, to dry your tears and soothe your fears, worshiping your delicious body and the ground you walked on. He was ready to admit that this was half his fault until your venom stung him beyond the realm of spoken word. 

“I understand it now, it must be hard for you to cope with your own decisions, your own failings, so you take it all on me. I hope you remember this when you come back to beg, on your knees for my forgiveness. And trust me, you will.” Of course Alastor would torture you with the knowlodge of his guilt and despair, the loss of his benevolence, the promise of desire and carnality. He will always be a torturer at heart, and you forgot that’s the first rule you need to always remember when dealing with him. 

“You’ve got your demons darling” never was your precious pet name said with such disdain. Static starts to gather around you, and in a flash his hand is on your neck

“and they all, Look. Like. Me” his voice is distorted when he finishes cursing you, there’s a tempest behind his eyes that entraps you, the burning red of his irises condemn you. 

The Radio demon is a raging fire, an oncoming storm. But he is also meticulous, cruel and calculating, if you dared to question him, to step on the grace he gladly gave you, you clearly were aware of everything he did to lull his absence. All the plans and contingencies he made to hush your worrying thoughts about him and bathe your threshing heart on tranquiline waters.

And you decided to mock it. To mock him and his love for you. 

You are crying again, but this time Alastor is fucking glad he was the one to hurt you, to reduce you to a mess of regret and tears. 

Tonight in Hell, power shifts from one Overlord to another. Sinners plan and freak out accordingly.

 But their machinations are all meaningless. 

The 7 years you spent away from Alastor made you sad, the three years spent on Vox’s side made you bitter. The V’s operate on poison, it’s their fuel. And maybe the poison drips through.

Tonight you drank the poison and it broke you.

Tonight, for the first time, the poison broke Alastor too.

[theyapper0]

PART THREE OF "DISHONORED GUESTS"

Charlie's??? Super confused? But she goes with it, albeit a bit thrown off by the sudden subject change, “Uh… no. ‘Still just Angel”

Emily: Angel? There's an angel in Hell!? 

Charlie's like, oh no, LOL! I'm talking about Angel DUST, a really good friend of mine and our first patron at the hotel!!!! Angel Dust is just a performing name! You get it? Angel Dust? 

Emily does not get it.

Charlie: One of the things he's trying to work on is getting clean and Angel Dust started using that name a long time ago. It's a another word for-

Adam: Uh! Charlie! Umm… Emily, don't worry about that! 

Adam leans into Charlie and says how Sera doesn't like having Emily hear that kinda stuff

Charlie’s TOTALLY confused now, she just sorta stares at him like??

Emily sighs, more than used to this, and is like, “Okay….”

Charlie looks at Emily and then at Adam like, “Great! ‘Glad we got that outta the way! Okay, see you at the Trial, Adam!!! ^^”

Adam: Oh! Uh… Alright, you two..!

When they’re a little further away, Charlie asks Emily if she’d like to hear about Angel Dust and other stories from Hell. Not in like an evil way but in like a friendly way :)

Emily’s a grown woman and Charlie doesn’t understand why she would need permission from her sister to hear certain things, obviously he knows that Sera is sorta overbearing because she cares for Emily but at the same time, she knows it’s also stifling Emily a LOT

Emily OF COURSE agrees like OMG FOR REAL?? YES!!!!!!

Adam stared at them as they left.

He knew what was happening.

(Why doesn’t he ever act?)

Cut. The Sun is beginning to set, the Trial will be in a couple hours. 

Vaggie is walking around the Heavenly cathedral, looking for Sera. 

She needed to leave. She HAD to leave, if she doesn't, Lute will tell not just everyone, but CHARLIE, that she's a….

Vaggie knew that if she were to ask Sera that she wished to leave, the Seraphim would be MORE than happy to conjure up a portal back to Hell no questions asked. 

Charlie didn't TRULY need Vaggie here for the Trial, she only thought she did. If Vaggie were to leave, sure, Charlie would be sad, but she'll get so distracted from preparing for the Trial that she'll forget that her girlfriend had even come with her in the first place!! 

Charlie comes up from behind her, “Sera? Why're you looking for her?” 

Vaggie: AAHAATTOOoooo ask her… where you were! HAHAHA! I just knew you were having such a good time with Emily and I wanted to make sure you were okay!!!! 

Charlie's like you could've called me :( and Vaggie apologizes

Charlie: It's fine, no worries! I'm just glad you ended up coming out for some air! Speaking of, man, even the air feels better to breathe in! 

Vaggie tells her that it was because there was no air pollution in Heaven  

Charlie: How do they even power their factories? Magic? 

Vaggie: Probably

Charlie smiles at her and kisses her, “I missed you, Emily showed me all these amazing places! Did you know the parks here aren't constantly on fire? Or filled with garbage!!!

Vaggie: That probably helps with the lack of a pollution problem here 

Charlie laughs and tells her that she totally has a point. 

Charlie: Oh wait!! I got you something!! A little thank you for coming with me today!! I know you don't really dig Heaven but you came anyway… for me. I just want you to know how much it means to me. 

Charlie gives Vaggie a golden, handheld blade sharpener.

Vaggie is completely awestruck and she stares at it as Charlie speaks, “Me and Emily got stickers and we were gonna put them all over but we figured that since it's YOURS, you should get to pick where you want them… or if you want them on it in the first place!”

Vaggie looks at the handle, on the butt of it is a sticker. 

Charlie: Ok so I might've realized that AFTER I already put one on…

Vaggie smiles with a light laugh, she hugs Charlie, “Charlie, I love it. Thank you so much, babe”

Charlie: You don't need to thank me, Vaggie!! I love you”

They kiss (⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠³⁠˘⁠)⁠♥

Charlie: We still have a few hours till the Trial, I'm gonna go over all our points! Feel free to join me whenever!! 

Vaggie stays where she stood, watching as Charlie turns around to walk away

Lute’s words- her threats, are clawing at the inside of her brain. If Vaggie showed up to that Trial, if she saw Lute, everything would be revealed…

Vaggie needed to leave. 

Vaggie: Wait, Charlie..!

Charlie turns around, “Hm? Yeah, Vaggie?”

Vaggie: I…

Vaggie: Do you really need me here for this..? I mean, you’re basically the one who thought of all our arguments for this Trial, I don't want to… hold you back”

Charlie: Vaggie… Everything we have, we built from the ground up TOGETHER. You're just as an integral part in this as I am, we're a team. 

Charlie: I couldn't think of anyone else I'd rather have here with me than you- I WOULDN'T WANT anyone else with me here than you

Vaggie stared up at her. 

Shit….

How could she leave now? Not after such a confession like that. 

Charlie didn't NEED Vaggie here, she really didn't. Honestly, either one of them could have gone here to fight in this Trial and all would be fine, they both knew their material. 

But Charlie WANTED Vaggie to be here… with her. 

Vaggie: I uh….

Vaggie: I guess we can go over everything together…

Cut. Charlie and Vaggie are outside the grand doors of the Courtroom. 

Charlie is FREAKING OUT!!!! The Trial's just MINUTES from starting!!!! FUUUUUCK!!!!!!! 

Vaggie reassures her that everything's gonna be fine and to not stress so much 

While Vaggie's telling her this, she eyes Lute approaching them in the corner of her eye

Vaggie: How about you go set up and get organized inside, you'll feel better once you start doing something. I'm just gonna head to the bathroom real quick

Charlie's like, “Can I come?? 🥺”

Vaggie: Charlie…

Charlie: Okay, okay! You're right, I'm gonna go

They give each other a quick kiss before Charlie runs inside

As Charlie leaves, Lute finally reaches Vaggie. 

Lute: You're still here. 

Vaggie: Don't you have Adam to follow? 

Lute: I've extended my grace towards you because of our past, old protégé.

Lute: But you've completely disregarded that

Vaggie ignores Lute, trying to walk away and down the hall. 

Lute grabs her shoulder, “It would do you good to listen to the people above you”

Lute: I thought I taught you well… 

Lute: But I'll make sure you learn. 

Vaggie jerks her shoulder away, “Don't touch me!”

They tussle for a bit and eventually Lute roughly grabs hold of Vaggie's arm and shoves her into the Courtroom.

They both enter the Courtroom and it's quiet, there's only a couple murmurings here and there. 

Vaggie goes to Charlie and Lute to Adam.

Charlie and Emily are talking to each other. Adam was watching them from afar but then was completely thrown off once he saw Lute enter with Vaggie

This is the first time Adam is seeing Vaggie today and UMM???? WHAT?! SHE’S ALIVE?!?!?!?!!?!?

(In this rewrite/AU/thing, everyone thought Vaggie died by Lute once she was banished from Hell)

Adam looks at Lute and there’s no time to explain anything.

Sera: The Trial will now commence!

Sera: We are here to determine whether or not a mortal soul in Hell can be redeemed into the heavenly realm via means of this “Hazbin Hotel”

Sera: All mortal souls, in order to grant passage into eternal bliss, must follow the Ten Commandments. If they do not, they are sentenced to the fiery wrath of damnation.

Charlie speaks up, “Yes but a mortal’s life isn’t over when they die- so to speak!”

“They're still conscious and aware of their actions and consequences even IN the afterlife! If they are just as lucid as they were when they were alive, that means their principals and morals are continuously subject to change just like anyone else!”

Charlie: I believe our Hazbin Hotel has the potential to reform Sinners! 

PART 1

PART 2

PART 3

PART 4

PART 5

[iwillneverforgiveyousunghanbin]

lesson (not) learned

part two: lesson (still not) learned wc: 1.5k reader: afab (maybe also only femme but i don’t think so? idk lemme know if you think it should be labeled femme) warnings: minors dni explicit smut!!!!!, established poly!relationship, oral m!receiving, fingering, learned this word today: pussyjob, hard/softdom!hanbin, switch!hao, sub(i guess mostly)!reader, hanbin and hao are not that nice but they love you (hanbin loves you more tho lol), addressing hanbin as "sir" towards the end, hanbin calls them puppies one time, mxm but very light, i guess light angst but a good ending, basically you and hao are always competing to be hanbin's favorite lol summary: hanbin punishes a bickering poly!reader and hao for fucking without his permission; they do not learn their lesson this started out as something else and then became this. oops. gonna have to write that original idea too eventually. enjoy :)

🚨MINORS DNI 18+ EXPLICIT SMUT BELOW🚨

“what was that, baby?” hao asks, hand tangled in your hair as he grips it tightly. somehow his tone remains patronizing despite the fact you’ve been edging him for at least half an hour. “can’t talk with a big cock in your mouth?”

you try to answer again, but it’s useless; a frustrated moan comes out of you instead and, for a moment, the curtain falls on hao’s persona he’s been maintaining to impress his other lover. you can see it in his eyes how the vibration on his cock affects him; how he desperately wants to give in to you. he always wants to cave a few minutes in.

but...

he blinks quickly; tightening his grip on your hair and yanking a bit harsher. “come on. he’s... he’s gonna get mad at us again if we don’t finish our punishment.”

a pointed exhale from the corner draws your attention to the third presence in the room. “aw, hao hyung, don’t be silly now. why would i get mad at you? hmm?”

the words are kind on paper-- playful even. but you would never know by the way hanbin says them. a viper’s tongue.

stupidly, you make eye contact with him. he’s lounging back in a leather armchair, a hand over his mouth and one eyebrow cocked in what seems to be amusement. a small beam of light illuminates a diagonal strip of his face from the corner of his left eye to his jaw bone. he looks otherworldly like this and the heavenly visual causes you to lose your grip on hao’s cock in your mouth.

it lolls out of you with a pitiful pop.

“baby,” hao pleads annoyedly, taking your face in his hands to try to get your attention but your fixation on hanbin’s beauty is just too strong. “baby, we need to keep going or he’s--.”

by the time you’ve actually comprehended hao’s words, a cruel laugh is already escaping hanbin’s throat from the corner of the room. “how did i manage to find the two stupidest, horniest people on the planet?”

“fuck,” hao whispers angrily, shaking your face that’s still in his hands. “this is all your fault! you always do this!”

“this is not my fault! are you kidding me!?” you defend, childishly folding your arms across your chest. “you’re the one who couldn’t keep your hands off me earlier.”

“you literally grabbed my fingers and stuck them in your pussy,” hao counters, glaring at you. “you always want him to think you’re his perfect little angel, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. you’re just a spoiled fucking brat who needs--.”

your lips are on hao’s before he can finish his assassination of your character. unfortunately you just can’t help yourself when he talks to you like that. but hao is no lesson in self control either, seeing as he’s moaning into your mouth within seconds; pushing your back down onto the bed beneath him. in between your thighs, the head of his cock starts to tease your entrance.

“fuck,” hao whines needily, rutting against you and, as he does, treading dangerously close to forbidden territory for the second time today. the desperation in hao’s voice only turns you on more, though and, clouded with lust, you also forget about the events that happened just hours ago.

“pleasepleaseplease, need you,” you beg incomprehensibly, the head of hao’s cock pressing into your clit. “fuck hao, please, just need you inside me now.”

“oh my god,” hao says as if he’s gonna lose his mind if he can’t put his cock in you in the next five seconds. “fuck, i can’t--... we can’t, baby. we’re not supposed to...”

though hao is certainly attempting to convince himself not to finally push himself inside your dripping hole, he’s failing miserably. you feel him start to rut progressively deeper, his resolve slowly turning to moans and whimpers until--

“you two never fucking learn your lesson, do you?”

your whole body freezes as hanbin yanks hao up by his ear to a kneeling position. hao seethes at the pain and hanbin whispers something in his ear that shuts him up without discourse. the sinking feeling in your gut reaches its height when hanbin’s attention turns to you.

“binnie, please,” you start to plead as hanbin just smiles coolly back at you. “hao started it! i would never break the rules, binnie-- i promise.”

hao opens his mouth to argue, but a quick glare from hanbin settles him down. the younger man lets go of hao’s ear; stepping closer to you. a gentle hand finds your jaw, pulling you up to meet him in a kiss. it’s sultry and warm and once again has you squeezing your thighs together for relief.

“cute,” hanbin coos, his left hand reaching to cup your heat. you can’t help but grind against his fingers as hanbin fawns over you. you know it’s a trap. but you just can’t help yourself.

neither can hao, whose hand has already begun stroking his cock again.

“hao hyung started this-- is that right, angel?” hanbin asks, pouting at you as he rubs his thumb across your cheek sweetly. and then the other shoe drops. “hao hyung is the one who got my angel this wet?”

you shake your head frantically. “no! no, binnie--.”

he tilts his head to the side-- a suggestion (or threat) that you better start using his preferred title effective immediately.

“i’m sorry, sir, i just--.”

“i was five fucking feet away from you-- you think you can lie to me?” hanbin’s tone surprisingly isn’t so much angry as it is... disappointed. your eyes meet hao’s and you know he’s thinking the same thing:

this is not good.

“bin-ah,” hao says softly, cautiously reaching out a hand to touch hanbin’s shoulder. “binnie, are you really upset?”

hanbin sighs melodramatically, shrugging off hao’s touch and turning away from the bed. “you both want each other so bad. it doesn’t really seem like you need me anymore.”

“what!?” you exclaim, scrambling to sit up and wrap your arms around his neck from behind. “of course we need you, hanbinnie! we love you. and i love you way more than hao loves you.”

“you’re such a little...” hao starts, grabbing your nipple between his fingers and pinching hard. you squeal and he sticks his tongue out at you as he takes hanbin’s hand in his own. “we’re trying to reassure hanbinnie and you still find a way to make it all about you? so typical. and for your information, he likes me more than you.”

“he does not! he said--... he said...” your words trail off as you suddenly feel hanbin pressing kisses up your arm where it hangs across his chest. “hanbinnie, we’re sorry. we need you. clearly we need you. we’d kill each other without you.”

“so sorry, binnie,” hao mumbles into hanbin’s shoulder. “we just can’t help ourselves sometimes.”

“we--... we need to be punished again, binnie,” you say, kissing his neck sweetly.

“please, binnie?” hao echoes hopefully. “we’ll be good this time!”

the sound of hanbin chuckling is not what either of you are expecting to hear, but when he turns around with a glint of sadistic pleasure in his eyes, an exhilarating chill runs down your spine. all of this-- from the moment hanbin had left you alone with hao this afternoon while he went to get groceries up to now-- had been one giant trap. 

you and hao were really in for it now.

“you’re both a little too soft for your own good, don’t you think?” hanbin muses with a smirk. “we all know you desperately need me.”

you look down at your lap in shame and you know that hao is doing the same.

“but i need you too,” he adds, a hand running up one of yours and hao’s thighs. “my two favorite puppies. so perfect. just need some more training is all.”

“yes, sir,” you and hao respond together happily.

just as hanbin’s left hand wraps around the base of hao’s cock and the fingers of his right hand find your entrance, his phone starts to ring in his back pocket. “fuck,” he curses, removing his fingers from you and reaching for his phone. you start to whine, but a sharp look keeps you quiet. 

“i have to take this,” hanbin sighs, walking towards the door. “when i come back, i better find you both on your stomachs for me. understand?”

“yes, sir,” the two of you respond from the bed again.

as the door shuts behind hanbin, you look at hao. his eyes are narrowed in anger and the head of his cock is leaking pathetically. you stare at each other for a long moment before hao quickly gives up and begins climbing back between your legs.

hanbin knows exactly what he’s going to walk back into. and though he knows he’s going to have to make you both pay for it...

he wouldn’t have it any other way.

[most-normal-eccles-cake-ignorer]

celestial surveillance + some garden of eden parallels

For there is nothing hidden that will not be disclosed, and nothing concealed that will not be known or brought out into the open. - Luke 8:17 (NIV)

Over and over, we see how the bookshop feels safe/private while simultaneously being sort of a fishbowl, leaving its inhabitants quite exposed to onlookers. *garden of eden vibes*

Similarly, Aziraphale and Crowley tried to conduct a class-A surreptitious 6000+ year agreement/slowburn romance and yet their 25 Lazarii relationship is fairly obvious to others.

Reminiscent of how Crowley is painfully aware that nothing is certain and time is horribly finite, Aziraphale lives with the knowledge that anything he does or says can be used against him—or much worse, used against Crowley or others our little guardian cares about. Unlike his emotional support demon, however, Aziraphale was afraid Before the Beginning, before The Fall.

While Upstairs aren't the only ones watching, they have the potential to be the most dangerous threat (emphasis on potential bc they have to take an interest and also maybe stumble into important clues): The heavenly office overlooks the entire world. Where Hell had to send Furfur to the theatre with a camera, Heaven's got Earth Observation Files they can pull up to see what someone was doing at any point in history—not even St. James Park can keep you anonymous in the face of thirty-seven classes of scriveners/recording angels!

Aziraphale may tend to underestimate danger in general because of his misplaced hope that Heaven is truly Good, but in the same way that he can be both clever and stupid, I think he trusts Heaven and fears it at the same time. Why else would he be so worried about breaking their rules even when he knows they are wrong?

Of course, Aziraphale is also a courageous little bastard with a deity-defying protective streak! Despite Heaven's indoctrination, we see him navigating all sorts of grey area as he learns to 'blur the edges'. But he knows it isn’t safe to do that openly. He keeps this more human side hidden and tries not to think too hard about why doing good is wrong in heavens eyes. (lol other people's aziraphale metas are my main food group rn)

At the end of S2, we see him leave A.Z. Garden & Co. after tasting the forbidden fruit large oat milk latte, armed with his naïve/misguided 'knowledge of Good and Evil'. (and perhaps he knows he can't 'let the sun can’t go down' on him in Soho lest the the Metatron mete out death instead of coffees?) When Adam and Eve left Eden, Aziraphale and Crowley observed from above. When the angel and demon leave their own garden, we get the sense that they are also being watched.

(also idk if this is anything but Adam facing off against the lion while Eve looks on in the bg seemed a bit like Crowley watching Aziraphale walk into danger w the Metatron. could be a good sign since the lion gets turned into salami)

There are hints at the end of S2 that the watching is getting a little a spicier (at least I think they are hints haha): the bookshop windows are still broken during the last part of E6, further decreasing privacy; the zombies used binoculars to watch A&C from the Dirty Donkey under cover of darkness in 1941 but the Metatron just looks across the road in the light of day. And then there's the whole 'hefty jigger of almond syrup'.

[lenaellsi]

i've mentioned this before and it's a Hot Take maybe but. i don't think it's fair at all to characterize crowley's "you and me, what do you say?" speech from s2 as being equivalent to "fuck the earth run away with me to the stars right now" a la season 1

i guess i can see why it might come off that way, with gabriel and beelzebub having just left and crowley drawing the comparison to them, but a lot of people have sort of extrapolated from that this dichotomy where suddenly aziraphale is the one who cares about saving the world and crowley only cares about himself and aziraphale. and while i think crowley certainly prioritizes their mutual safety and is more likely to get spooked when faced with threats from heaven (i wonder why) crowley also loves earth?? he talks about it all the time.

the last time there was an apocalypse, crowley was the one who proposed saving the world, and he had to talk aziraphale into it. and like...he was planning breakfast at the ritz, wasn't he? he didn't want to leave. obviously "you can't leave this bookshop" meant "you can't leave me," but it also LITTLE bit meant the bookshop, and earth.

the circumstances of s1 were very different than the end of s2. crowley only wanted to run in s1 when 1) the end was about 4 hours away, 2) from his POV he and aziraphale had no idea where the antichrist was, so they wouldn't be able to stop anything even if they did stay to die with the humans, 3) aziraphale was about to Talk To Heaven the same way crowley tried to before the Fall, 4) demons were actively pursuing him for purposes of torture and annihilation. and in the end, he STILL stayed.

idk. if we're going to give aziraphale the benefit of the doubt for the Many Things he said in that convo, then i think we can afford to give crowley the benefit of the doubt that "we need to get away from them" and "go off together" might mean something more along the lines of "please don't go back to heaven, stay with me, it can be the two of us against them all." THAT was what crowley's emotional arc this season was leading to, with the flashbacks and his big revelation in ep 5, the same way aziraphale's was leading to leaving. every single one of the flashbacks had crowley choosing to help someone else at great personal risk--why would that lead to the conclusion that he actually wants to leave without trying to help? (of course, he did want to abandon gabriel. but I don't think that was even a little bit irrational after aziraphale's failed execution. walking away from the heavenly host who has done nothing but hurt both of them is not the same as walking away from earth. it's still a problem--ignoring heaven and hell will not, ultimately, fix anything--but again, it's not the same as abandoning humanity on a whim.)

TL;DR I don't think it's a fair reading to say that crowley's proposed solution to The Heaven And Hell Problem is "fuck humanity, let's give up." i think he was proposing working together against heaven and hell with the option of an exit strategy if everything went wrong, which is what he ALWAYS tries to do. (see: arrangement + holy water.) his need for an escape route and his tendency to prepare for the worst is something that is definitely hindering him in, for example, his relationship with aziraphale, but it also makes sense. because, you know. the last time he tried doing anything about heaven he got his wings lit on fire. so.

[simphornies]

Good Morning/Afternoon/Night!

Can I please request a Vox x Female Angel Reader but it's more based on this KDrama show of Son-o Gong and Jin seon mi

Where Son-O Gong(Vox) have this bracelet on his wrist would that would always gripped onto his heart whenever and if he ever made Jin seon mi(Reader) Sad or Scared?

And the fact only Reader is able to take the bracelet off of him but the thing is...Reader still doesn't trust him and unfortunately to Box's dismay his power of hipnotizing someone doesn't work on Reader to take the bracelet off...

(PS: If Reader is happy or Content or anything but sad or scared Box will remain unharmed by the bracelet's power)

A/N: Honestly, I haven't watched that show. I wish I could but I don't have Netflix </3 Anyways I hope this is good enough for your request anon! It was a fun write. I apologize if it's not what you wanted. I also don't know how to title this <3

Word count: 3.3k (3,315)

Vox x Reader

The last extermination was filled with casualties on both sides. Hell and Heaven lost souls. You, however, lost your absolute sanity after the extermination. You tried to stop the extermination and almost caused an uprising. You deliberately caused disorder within the heavenly principles that led to you falling like Lucifer while everyone in Hell had their guards up. You snuck into a tall building with three V’s at the top, hoping someone wouldn’t catch you.

Unfortunately for you, the overlord that owned the building caught you as soon as you walked in. You two made eye contact. He was in absolute shock, maybe with a little bit of fear, that there’s now a whole angel in his lobby. Before he could make a move to attack, you flew straight towards him and clasped a bracelet on his wrist that immediately adjusted its size to his wrist. He felt a shift in his body, his heart felt tight. The bracelet was one that you had made, a special bracelet that gave you a little bit of control on the wearer and gauged off of your emotions.

You were scared after being spotted, causing the bracelet to immediately send a tightness in his chest, bringing him to the ground.

“What the fuck is this?” Vox cussed, clutching his chest with his claws, almost ripping his suit. “I didn’t do shit. What do you want from me? Who are you? What business does an angel have in my building?”

“I…” You cleared your throat and stood tall, “My name is Y/N. That bracelet is now connected to your heart. You are under my control. You won’t be able to take or break it off.” Your fear subsided and so did the pain in Vox’s chest. He took deep breaths, choosing to stay on the floor as he looked up at you. “I’ve fallen from Heaven. I want you to take me in. We can make a deal. I’ll provide you assistance and protection in exchange for a place to live and funds to do so for as long as I desire.”

Though you held yourself with confidence, Vox didn’t miss the gloss over your eyes as if you were just crying. He slowly gets up, the height difference between you two becoming obvious as he now looks down at you. “Alright, angel.” He held his hand out to you, “A deal then. Not like I have a choice, do I?”

You reached for his hand to shake it but before you could take it, he grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you close to him. An arm snaked around your waist and he looked you in the eyes. His left eye started to spiral, “Why don’t you take this bracelet off for me, Y/N?” His voice was laced with a video sound effect. He was trying to hypnotize you.

You stared at him with an unimpressed look. His grin faltered at your expression. “Excuse my profanity but what the fuck are you doing?”

He blinked, eye no longer spiraling. He pulled away, “Fuck does it not work on you?” He mumbled to himself.

You tilted your head before realizing what he was trying to do. “Oh.” You laughed a bit at his attempt to which he side-eyes you for. “Sorry. I forgot to tell you. Your ‘powers’ won’t work on me as long as you have that bracelet on.” You pat his shoulder, “Nice try though!”

Vox groaned, “And you didn’t start with that? What else does this shit have?”

“Why would I tell you that?” You smiled at him, holding your hands behind your back, “Just be a good boy for me and you won’t get hurt, okay? Let’s be friends.”

“Friends?” He scoffed, “I’m stuck under your ‘control’ or whatever that fuckin’ means and you want to be friends?”

“Look Mr. Flatscreen Head, do you really think I’m gonna be stuck in here without some sort of security?” You huffed, “I can’t trust you but you’re stuck with me, deal or not, you can’t get that bracelet off and if you do anything to me…Well. You’ll find out.”

“First of all,” He crossed his arms, squinting at you, “My name is Vox. Not Flatscreen Head. And second of all. That’s a fair point. You’re smarter than you look and I’m not really going to test anything out with this tacky device. Shit hurt when you first put it on.”

You squinted back at him, “Tacky?” You say, offended. “It’s not my fault you can’t rock gold.”

He gasped, “How dare you say I can’t rock gold. I can most definitely rock gold.”

You rolled your eyes, “Yeah whatever you say, Vox.” Your voice was laced with sass.

Vox didn’t want to admit it, but the way you say his name was like music to his ears. He straightened his suit and held his hands behind his back, copying you. “Whatever. You can stay here. On one condition.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, “Bold of you to order conditions considering you’re stuck in that bracelet. But I’ll allow it, what is it?”

“You stay in my room.”

“What? Why?”

“Look at you.” He gestured to your outfit and your very obviously angelic hair style. “You’re obviously not from here. And I can’t guarantee someone will try some shit knowing there’s an angelic being in here. And I can keep you safe there better than if you were in your own room, I’ll be closer so if there’s anything you need, I’m there.”

You squint, crossing your arms, “Sounds like a trap.”

He blinked and held out the wrist that the bracelet was on, “I’m the one that’s really trapped here.”

“Fine.” You say, giving in, “Whatever. But I want my own bed. I’m not sleeping next to you. I don’t know what your sinful motives are.”

He raised an eyebrow, “Of course you’ll get your own bed. Wait…” A smirk crept up on his face, “You thought you were going to be in the same bed as me?” He leaned close to your face, “What were you thinking I was going to do to you, huh? Somethin’ dirty, angel?”

Your face turns red as you push his screen away, “N-No! I…” You groaned, covering your face as you turned your head away, “Shut up! I wasn’t thinking of such things with you.”

He grabbed your chin and made you look at him. He takes in your red face, “You know…I wouldn’t mind doing some sinful things with a beauty like you, angel.”

You were going to explode and your heart felt funny. You knew you couldn’t trust demons and this might just be one of his tricks to get you to take the bracelet off. You were unbelievably flustered and tried to pull away from him but he just snaked his arm around your waist, one of his claws gently tracing where your wings popped out of, making them flutter.

“Now that I look closer at you, I wouldn’t mind being stuck to you.” He grins, a teasing tone obvious in his voice.

“Free me from your grasp, demon! Let me go!” You protest as you retract your wings into your body to stop him from messing with the base. “Just take me to the damn room!”

With one swift movement, you were now being carried in his arms. “I’ll take you there, no need to walk.” He winked.

“Stop flirting with me for fucks sake.” You complained. Your face could not get any redder at his boldness.

“Hmmm…No. It’s actually fun for me. I’m stuck under your control and with you. Might as well make the situation worth it.”

.

And that’s how you and Vox first met when you fell in Hell a year ago. His flirty advances never wavered over the months you spent with him. You often caught him trying to sneak into your bed when you were going to sleep to which you simply just roughly pushed him off with your wings, not even bothering to turn your body to face him. Over the span of the year, the two of you grew to be close friends and trusted each other with secrets. You often spent time accompanying him to business meetings as an extra form of intimidation to push other sinners to agree to the deals he offered. Your sanity was drained at every attempt. You didn’t want to admit it, but you enjoyed the attention he gave you.

With your presence, his power grew and so did your love and admiration for each other. None of you admitted to each other of said feelings but to the other Vees, who you also became close friends with, it was quite obvious. The looks you two would exchange with each other, your hands brushing by each other seemingly on accident but definitely on purpose, the way one side of your wings wrapped slightly curved around him during business meetings while the other remained straighter and the endless gifts you two would give each other.

Vox quickly found out what the bracelet’s powers did to him. He misplaced his anger at you once when he was going on an angry rampage about Alastor. He said something that was directed at Alastor and you came in at the wrong time. You thought he was talking badly about you, his harsh words made you cry and as soon as you did, Vox’s heart was in pain. He clutched his chest while you weeped. He sucked up his pain and chilled his anger out. He comforted you, reassuring you that he didn’t mean for that to be directed at you. He held you close to him as you calmed down. He rubbed your back, immediately soothing you. He wiped the tears off of your face. “Stop crying, your face wasn’t made for so much sorrow.”

Your sadness was quickly replaced with a warm fuzzy feeling in your chest the moment what he said processed in your head. The instant you weren’t sad anymore, Vox no longer felt the tightness in his chest. You simply leaned into his hug, your face burying into his chest. His scent was something that you grew accustomed to so much that it brought you comfort whenever he wasn’t around. As soon as you calmed down enough, the intimate position you were both in made you two unbelievably flustered. His systems began to rise in heat but neither of you wanted to pull away because that meant looking at each other after this moment.

So you two just stayed there for a while in silence. It took a lot of bravery for Vox to pull away to excuse himself. “My system’s overheating. From the pain! The pain! Nothing else. I have to fix that. I’ll see you later.” He quickly states before teleporting away. You put your hands up to your cheeks, feeling the warmth on them, “I’m overheating too…” You mumbled to yourself.

Velvette and Valentino enjoyed the increase in power ever since you came into the picture so they dropped their guards around you, no longer seeing you as a threat after a while. You and Velvette would often chat with each other, talking shit about anything and everything you both found entertaining. She’d constantly post pictures of you two whenever you would hang out with her. You and Valentino would talk about wing care all the time, often helping him clean his wings as you two talked about the latest trends and his latest porn shoots (which you would always get flustered at).

One day, you confided in them both about the way Vox made you feel in grave detail. Valentino and Velvette glanced at each other before dying a second time from laughter. You got flustered at their reactions.

“I’m so serious! Stop laughing! I’m having a crisis!” You yelled at them, your face turning into a bright red. “I don’t get it.”

“Y/N! Are you fuckin’ serious?” Velvette managed to say in between laughs, “For an ‘intelligent angel’ from Heaven” She spoke, doing an air quotes gesture with her fingers, “You’re pretty dense.”

“Oh my god. Please.” Valentino wheezed out, “My stomach hurts from laughing too much. I can’t believe you said all of that.”

“Will you two quit bullying me and tell me what’s going on? I don’t understand any of this.” You begged. You sat there, arms crossed with a displeased expression on your face as you watched them get the laughing out of their system.

After what seemed like forever, the two Vees took deep breaths in and they each put a hand on one of your shoulders.

“Y/N.” They said in unison.

“You want to fuck him.” Valentino says.

“You’re in love with him.” Velvette said, at the same time as Valentino.

You blinked at them, “No. That can’t possibly be-”

“Y/N! Are you seriously that dumb?” Velvette facepalmed, “Okay look. Think of it this way. How would you feel if Vox started dating somebody that wasn’t you?”

You pondered for a moment and you felt your heart drop. And it all hit you. You were in love with him.

“Oh my god.” You gasp, “Fuck. Fuck! What do I do about this?” Panic set in. You can’t possibly look at Vox normally after coming to this realization.

“I think you two should fuck.” You and Velvette stared at him with disappointed faces to which he responded with a shrug, “That’s what I’d do.”

Velvette smacks him in the arm before averting her attention back to you. “How about this…I’ll set you both up on a date and you confess to him.”

“A date?! Why would Vox want to go on a date with me? He doesn’t even feel the same way.”

“Oh my fucking god.” Velvette groaned, “Are you serious?”

“He literally eye fucks you.” Valentino said, grinning with delight.

“Stop! No he doesn’t.”

“Y/N. Babes. I love you. I appreciate you. But you are so fucking stupid sometimes.” Velvette groaned, “He’s literally constantly all up on you. He flirts with you.”

“He stares at your ass when you walk by him.” Valentino added, puffing out red smoke.

“And didn’t you say he constantly tries to sneak into your bed at night? The signs are all there, you are so dense.”

It didn’t take a lot of effort for Velvette and Valentino to shove you into the hottest outfit Velvette could create and Valentino agreed on. Everything happened so fast after you confided in the two that you were now sitting in a fancy restaurant waiting for Vox to arrive.

Vox was forced into the best suit, one that matched your outfit, that Velvette made. They didn’t tell him why he was going out in such an outfit or who he was going to meet. They just shoved him in a car that brought him to the restaurant. He was led into a private area separated from other tables with a velvet curtain.

As soon as the curtain is lifted, Vox looks at the table where you were sitting in shock. You get up and walk over to greet him, “H-Hey!” You nervously spoke, “I’m guessing they didn’t tell you why you were here?”

Vox took in the sight of you, internally saving the sight into one of his folders. You looked absolutely gorgeous in front of him. “No…They, uh…” He was unable to form words, too distracted by your beauty. “They just uh…” His systems started to fail him, there were sparks coming out of him.

“They insisted we go on a date together…” You blushed, looking away from him as to not look at the way he admired you. “I need to talk to you.”

He regained his composure at your explanation, “A date?! We’re on a date?” He asks, a bit too excitedly as his tone changes. He clears his throat, “Please. Please, sit.”

He zapped over to the chair you were on and pulled it out for you. You gave him a shy smile and sat down as he pushed you closer to the table before taking a seat for himself across from you. “Soooo…” He nervously fidgeted with the edges of his suit, “What…did you want to talk about?”

“Well…Well okay. Um. First! I want to take the bracelet off of you.” Your words brought a shocked expression on his face.

“Really? What…what made you choose to do that?” He glanced at the bracelet on his wrist, something he grew accustomed to.

“Well that brings me to my second point…” You nervously laugh and break eye contact with him. You fidgeted with your hair, “I think I…developed some…feelings for you?” You whispered low enough for him not to hear.

“What was that?” He leaned closer over the table.

“I like you!” You blurt out. “I think I’ve been liking you for a little bit. And I don’t want you to be bound to me by that bracelet so I’m taking it off!” Without making eye contact, you slid the bracelet off of his wrist. “I don’t need this anymore. If you don’t like me, it’s fine. I get it. I just…I needed to tell you.” You looked up at him, his face was filled with astonishment which made you nervously laugh and keep talking to fill the silence.

“I was talking to Velvette and Valentino and they were saying silly things like how you like me back! Haha…I know that can’t be true but I know I do like you. I just keep feeling all warm and fuzzy around you. And whenever you’re not in our room at night, I’d miss your scent and your attempts at sneaking into my bed. I told them that and that’s when they told me I actually have feelings for you and I just didn’t realize it. You don’t have to return them! Um…It’s fine! This is actually really silly-”

While you were blabbering over and over about how much you liked him, Vox stood next to you. You didn’t realize it until he pulled you up from your chair and held you close to him. Your body was pressed up against his and he had his hand around your waist. You turn a bright red at this action. “Vox? What are you-”

“I like you too, angel.” He spoke softly before giving you a kiss. Your wings popped out of your back in surprise, feathers all fluffed out. You shut your eyes and kissed him back, loosely wrapping your arms around his neck. Your heart was pounding and you can feel his was too. The kiss you two shared wasn’t long but it felt like eternity to you both. It wasn’t until then that you realized his usual blue screen had turned into a pinkish red. Was he…blushing? Is that how he blushed? “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for that. I thought you didn’t like me. I’ve just been hoping my flirting would work on you.”

You looked up at him and smiled, “Well…To an extent, it sure did help.” You left a kiss on his screen.

He cupped your cheek in his hand, “Does this mean we’re dating now?”

“Silly question. Yes, it does.”

You two share another passion filled kiss before continuing your date, laughing and drinking the night away.

.

“Hey babe.” Vox slides next to you on a rolling chair while you work, grinning with delight.

“Yes, Vox?” You responded, not looking at him.

“Did it hurt?”

Your attention and gaze was now on him, squinting in suspicion. “Did…what hurt?”

“When you fell from Heaven.” He winked at you.

“Vox.”

“Yes, baby?”

“Think fast.” You quickly say before smacking him with your wing, knocking him off of his chair.

“Ow! That hurt!” He whined.

You rolled your eyes and continued your work, giggling a bit. “Terrible line.”

[vxqyz]

"To the Night we Wed." TrueformSukuna x inexperienced!fem!reader Heian era AU, 4.1k words

A/N: I've never written a fic before and I've never written anything professionally on tumblr... please forgive me if it's not formatted as you're used too! I have no photos to add or how to correctly break the paragraphs/storyline up. Also, there's a part where it goes into depth abt the wedding..! Don't mind it, I added it to make it seem more legit if you get what i mean. @sukunamylovexoxo thank you for listening to me complain while I wrote this :)!

Warning: smut in detail!! minors plz dni! hateful father, and strange language, just in case you don't like either of those!

You are a girl in the Heian era who recently came of age from an honored clan of powerful sorcerers. Unfortunately for you, your cursed energy is extremely low, however not low enough for you to have gained a heavenly pact. You are extremely useless to your clan, being born a woman already ruined your chances at making it far in life. Your father and the head of the clan, your grandfather, were known for marrying off the women if they were anywhere near as useless as you. On your 19th birthday, your wedding night, a monstrous man was sitting on the bed waiting for you. 

It was a day like any other day, simply learning more calligraphy and practicing your handwriting. There wasn’t much more for you to do besides clean and look pretty. you knew everyone in your clan, besides your younger and older sisters, hated you. You were a disgrace to them. Your father came from a long line of powerful sorcerers with extremely high amounts of cursed energy, your mother was an average woman with an average amount of cursed energy from a neighboring clan. It was shocking how a single child could diminish a clan’s reputation. 

you heard a knock on your thin door. “Excuse me, y/n, your father wishes to speak with you…” It was one of the housemaids. Your father was coming to you? Every morning you’d greet him and receive nothing back. What could be so important? “Please, come in.” you timidly responded, putting away your calligraphy equipment. The door slid open, and your father slowly entered your room. He made a disgusted face- as if looking at you was bad for his health. It hurt. “Hello, y/n.” He coldly greeted you. You understand you’re useless to him, but he could at least pretend he loved you. “I was talking to your grandfather about you and what to do with you. He suggested that we marry you off.” He paused. “I accepted the offer,” He mentioned with indifference. “You’re getting married in two weeks.” Married? In two weeks? You could feel your heart shatter. “Ah…” you quietly let out. “Who will I be wed to?” You were trying to keep a smile on your face. You think he knew it was a front. “His name is Ryomen Sukuna. I’m surprised. Out of all your sisters, he picked you.” He scoffed as he turned around. “I expect you to start working on your appearance. I wouldn’t want to marry a pig like you.” He left your room. This was the way your conversations would usually go, however rare they were. He couldn’t help but insult you. You were left alone with your thoughts as soon as he left your room. You turned eighteen last year. In two weeks, it would be your birthday. Your father didn’t know that, of course. Out of your five sisters and two brothers, it was hard to keep track of birth dates. But you knew he never bothered to remember yours.

–

Your daily routine usually consisted of waking up at 5:00 in the morning and getting out of bed to eat the breakfast your maid had prepared for you. This week was different. You woke up at 4:50 and noticed your breakfast wasn’t at your side. You were a little bit shocked, even when you woke up as early as 4:15, there would still be breakfast ready for you. You got up and decided it would be best not to think about it, after all, you have more important things to do. Your father was so sure that no one would want you as their bride, that he refused to allow the maids to teach you how to be a proper wife. He recently ordered about five of our maids to teach you the correct way to address your soon to be husband, wifely duties, and activities such as washing clothes and cleaning. This was something you weren’t looking forward to. you were previously refused such education since your father treated you like the plague. He had no intention of allowing you to touch anything that didn’t belong to you, believing you would take away his or your siblings' cursed energy. It was a ridiculous and irrational fear that made you realize you would always be hated by him.

As you were changing out of your sleeping attire, you heard your father’s footsteps walking towards your room. You hear a slight knock. “Please wait a moment!” You blurt out, and quickly return to changing into your daily dress, a simple kimono-esque outfit. “You may come in.” you reassure him. He slowly opens the door and stays about 15 feet away from you. “Ryomen Sukuna will be visiting you today.” He said in a professional way- an uncommon tone. “Be ready in three hours. I expect you to look the best you can.” He closed your door and walked away. Your future husband? Is he truly that eager to meet his wife-to-be? 

–

It was half past seven, twenty minutes before Sukuna was supposed to meet you. Your maids had dressed you in a somewhat formal kimono, more flashy than your daily clothes, but less fancy than a ceremonial outfit. Your silky hair had been done into a lovely bun with unique flowers tied into it. You looked beautiful. You patiently sat on your knees waiting in the main room of your family’s home. The open space terrified you. Large pillars holding up the roof on each side of you, beautiful paintings on each wall and tatami mats below you. You felt nauseous. It’s probably because I'm anxious about meeting Sukuna. You rationalize with yourself. You let your thoughts run wild- what type of man could he be? A stoic man with a large frame? A diligent sorcerer focused on the wellbeing of his clan? Or maybe an old man simply moving from wife to wife? Your head was starting to hurt. All of this thinking only stressed you out.

Minutes pass, and your anxiety is increasing. You could feel yourself growing tired, this waiting has made you quite bored. As you’re slowly drifting to sleep, you hear the sound of a door opening- is he here? You quickly open your eyes and sit up straight. Your father rushed to greet him- blocking Sukuna from your view. However, you could see short pink hair, sleeves, and a spear. This was confusing. Who walks around with a spear? You ask yourself, still unable to see all of Sukuna. After about thirty seconds of frantic voices, your father moves to the side of him. You’re greeted with a large man, at least seven feet tall. You quickly move your eyes around to investigate him more- and see a strange thing on his face. Is that wood..? With eyes on it? You pondered, unable to remove your gaze from him. The eyes blink. A wave of fear is shot throughout your whole body. You close your eyes and take a deep breath before you return to examine him. You see increasingly concerning things- he has four eyes. On the right side, his face consists of a strange wooden textured… second face? And on the left, a normal human face- ignoring the fourth eye. You move your eyes down to recognize he’s not wearing a shirt- that's when you notice his markings. Previously, you were too appalled by everything else to see the markings on his face. He had markings on his chest too. You noticed he was wearing baggy pants, tightened around his waist with a black ribbon. You couldn’t see his arms- they were covered by the large and loose top he was wearing. 

You finally stopped inspecting him and stood up. He walked over to you where a low table sat in between the both of you, with a beautiful tea set laying in the middle. You bow as a form of respect and sit back down. He doesn’t say anything and takes a seat. Upon closer scrutiny, you notice his arms are abnormally thick. This concerned you. The more you looked at him, the more terrified you became. As you were sitting there and waiting for anyone to speak, you ascertained that he has four arms. Four arms… four… arms..? You panicked. At this point, you couldn’t stop shaking. Your whole body was having a reaction of pure terror. This man is a monster. A simple glance at him could cause anyone to convulse and pass away. “H-Hello, Ryomen Sukuna… It’s a pleasure to meet you.” You say with a shaky voice, your attempt at sounding smooth proved fruitless. He slowly looked up at you. The roles were reversed. Instead of your eyes on him, his eyes were scanning you- everywhere. “The painting your father showed me wasn’t accurate.” He finally growled, sounding a bit disappointed. You could feel your heart squeeze- even your future husband doesn’t like you.

You could feel his red eyes staring at you, your face flushed from the overwhelming emotions you’re experiencing. Your father, who was in the room with you and sitting on your side of the table, decided to speak up. “So, Ryomen Sukuna, I apologize for not asking you earlier, But is there a reason you chose y/n instead of my five other daughters?” He inquired, basically rubbing it in your face that you were the worst choice. You glanced upwards with a slight smile, and noticed Sukuna was shaking his head. “I chose y/n purely because I wanted to.” He said bluntly. He was so straight forward. Your father looked like he wanted to attack him. “Any particular reason?” He prodded Sukuna. You had a feeling that wasn’t the best idea, considering how fierce he looked. Sukuna let out a sigh and stared at your father as if he was planning out your father’s murder in his head. He adjusted himself and sat in a more comfortable position. “She looked pretty in the painting.” He once again bluntly responded with a dull expression. “So does this mean she doesn’t look as beautiful as you were expecting her to?” Your father questioned, basically on the edge of his seat. He couldn’t take this anticipation. He wanted Sukuna to admit that you’re hideous. “No. Although the painting isn’t accurate to her actual appearance, she’s still beautiful.” He says with a straight face, almost like what he said was scripted. You looked over to see your father’s face. He looked extremely angry. 

After your first meeting with Sukuna, the next week was extremely dull. You were constantly learning new things about being a wife, and the possibilities of copulation. Since you were always kept in the house, never being allowed to leave the courtyard, you didn’t know much about relationships. Besides familial connections, you haven’t been exposed to much else. You never got to see what marriage is like due to your mother’s death shortly after giving birth to you. Even then, none of your siblings got married off as quickly as you did, so you were too young to understand what marriage was anyway. Your maids were kind enough to share their experiences with their husbands, letting you know what each of them liked. You felt happy that they were teaching you all of this important information, but you didn’t think they knew you were getting married to an anomaly like Sukuna. One week away from your wedding day.

–

Each day was passing slower than the next. The sun rose at 4:00 in the morning and you awoke an hour later. You would space out during your lessons, only thinking about Sukuna. You hated to admit it but- he was attractive. Albeit his second set of everything, he still had qualities that made him extremely handsome. His eyes, on the left side of his face, were stunning. They were a lovely red, not too saturated that they looked like rubies, but not too dark that they looked dark brown. They were a perfect mix of light and dark- like the color of blood. Each time he stared at you at your first interaction was filled with a certain type of yearning. You couldn’t understand what he wanted, but you could tell he wanted something. His muscles were chiseled and firm, as if he had no body fat whatsoever, and his tall frame made you feel a certain emotion you couldn’t quite put your finger on. You loved his beautiful hair, a lovely pink that could only be found on tulips. And his markings, his lovely markings. Those are what intrigued you the most- after his four arms, four eyes and two faces, you just couldn’t understand how they were on him. Were they ink? Was he born with them? He drove you crazy, there were so many things you didn’t know about him.

Days passed and your birthday finally arrived. You feel you’ve learned enough, and you’re prepared to be a dutiful wife. Maids are all around you, getting you dressed in an intricate and traditional gown. It was strikingly red- just like his eyes. You felt a strange sensation in your lower stomach, a fluttering phenomenon. This has been happening to you recently whenever you thought of Sukuna, and it confused you. But it made you feel warm inside, a comforting sensation, so you were fine with the occasional flutter-feeling. While in your room, you could hear the chaos outside. Your younger siblings were eagerly awaiting to see you in your gown, and your two older sisters were helping you. This was the one time your father allowed your siblings to be near you. You considered this to be the happiest and most eventful day of your life. Although your siblings were excited, your father wasn’t. He was making sure that your wedding wasn’t as extravagant as your other siblings’ weddings were. Despite the fact you were marrying Ryomen Sukuna, a rumored mass murderer, which you had no idea about, your father only cared about making your life a little bit worse each second.

After going through all of the formalities of a wedding, such as greeting guests, paintings, and feasting, it was time for the actual ceremony. You were sitting in a room with Sukuna in your extremely beautiful kimono, while he was wearing a black kimono- however, nothing was covering his chest. You were observing your family walk onto the isle on the left side, each of them taking a seat on the left side. At the same time, you noticed no one was walking on the left side- the side Sukuna’s family was supposed to walk on. You were confused, and wanted to ask him, but decided it’d be best if you didn’t question it. Once your family is finally sitting down, a lovely shinto maiden comes into the room. “Y/n, Sukuna, please follow me and allow me to lead you in.” She said with a polite smile and a bow. You get up and slowly follow her, with Sukuna to the right of you. Once you’ve reached the entrance, a priest calls upon the benevolent spirits to bless and purify you and Sukuna. Sukuna makes a faint scoff and ignores the priest's actions. After the priest purifies both of you, he starts a ritual prayer to announce to the deities that he seeks protection and blessing for the both of you. Your family stands and bows. After everyone is seated, you and Sukuna complete the sankon-no-gi, despite his reluctance. A shinto maiden enters the room and performs a dance as an offering to the gods. Once she’s completed the dance, you and Sukuna make your way to the altar where you will read your vows. His vows sound fake and heartless, but you add your name to the end to show that your vows are both ‘heartfelt’. After offering the Tamagushi to the gods, you and Sukuna exchange rings. Your ring is a lovely silver with diamonds encased in it, and a dazzling ruby right in the middle. Sukuna’s ring is a normal silver ring with streaks of ruby. It’s hard to imagine how these were made. Finally, you complete the last few steps of the ceremony. Your father and Sukuna both pushed for no after party, no sort of casual party, since the only attendees would be your family. At this point, the wedding is over, you and Sukuna are ushered to your room. You couldn’t help but feel a little uncomfortable.

–

Sukuna walks into your room first, his arms crossed. You slowly follow him and shut the door behind you. Once you turn around, you see Sukuna sitting on your bed. It’s that feeling again. After hearing all of your maids’ stories with their husbands, you couldn’t help but imagine such actions with Sukuna. You felt an unfamiliar throbbing in between your thighs. You couldn’t understand what was happening to you. Sukuna just stared at you for a while. “Come here.” He said with a bit of a commanding tone. You practically waddle over to him- not only is the Kimono difficult to walk in, this strange sensation makes you want to avoid rubbing your legs together. Sukuna easily slips off his kimono, revealing his four arms and his magnificent markings that make your heart race. He leans over and wraps you in his arms. It’s warm. He looks up at you. You recognize that look. He wants something, and you think you know what that something is. You slowly embrace his hug and sit there for an uncomfortable amount of time. Your mind is racing about what to say. You can’t properly convey what you’re feeling, and nor can you act on your desires. The most you can do is hug him at this very moment. Eventually, he lets go. You’re confused for a split second until he easily throws you onto the bed. You were still in your kimono, so movement was difficult for you. Sukuna didn’t care, he tore it off of you, thankfully without actually ripping it. You were exposed. Your makeshift bra that didn’t look too fancy, only functional, and your panties, average and nothing too extraordinary, were the only things left covering you. You hid your face with your hands out of pure embarrassment. You didn’t know how to react.

 Despite your relatively useless attempts at self defense against humiliation, Sukuna grabs your hands and puts them over your head. His hands were abnormally large, just like everything else about him. He was scanning you all over, your slim figure, your hips, your covered but obviously perfect breasts. He still had three arms he could use. This time, he actually tore off your bra and panties. You were laying on your bed, fully exposed to a man you just met two weeks ago and just got married to. You could see the sweat forming everywhere on Sukuna. Neither of you spoke any words. Not only were you too afraid, you just didn’t know what to say. Sukuna, on the other hand, was too focused on trying not to hurt your much smaller body. He kept biting his lower lip, most likely as a way to keep himself in check. Watching him like this made the throbbing return again. You could feel some sort of liquid seeping out of you ever so slowly. You noticed an unfamiliar bulge on the lower half of Sukuna. Out of pure curiosity you picked up your leg and poked it with your foot. His face changed with little delay. It looked a bit like he was in pain… You didn’t understand. You didn’t have much time to react before he dove his face onto yours, his mouth on your mouth. Is this kissing? One of the maids mentioned it. You didn’t know why, but… it filled you with a sort of satisfaction you’ve never felt before. You tried reciprocating the kiss, only for you to be an absolute amateur. Sukuna pulls away and takes a few deep breaths. “You’re horrible at this.” He whispered with a whine, regretting the fact that he pulled away from you. He instantly went back to kissing you, despite your lack of experience. Your hands were still above your head, so you had nothing you could do to defend yourself from any possible moves Sukuna might make. He started to softly grope your breasts, eventually evolving into him using two more hands to play with your nipples. You couldn’t think properly, this was too much stimulation for you. You’ve never experienced anything like this before, so to you, Sukuna was extremely skilled. He still had one free hand just resting on your hips. While he was greedily kissing you, as if you’d run away, his hand slithered closer between your thighs. He starts to rub where the throbbing originated. You practically started melting. You didn’t know how Sukuna was holding up, but you assumed he wasn’t feeling anywhere near as good as you were. And your assumption was correct. Along with the greedy face chewing, he was hard, and he could barely stand it anymore.

 He pulled away and quit rubbing you, using that hand to pull out- something you’ve never seen in your life. It was sort of scary, but before you could oppose anything, he shoved it inside of you, causing you to let out a loud moan of pain and.. Pleasure? Your ears start to ring ever so slightly, and Sukuna starts mumbling, intermittently interrupted with panting. You maneuver your head around to see what he was doing, and noticed- there were two? Two of those ungodly things? Your head was spinning, but for some ridiculous reason, it made you want him even more. All of the stories your maids told you were running through your head right now. But you were confused about one thing- why he wasn’t moving. You were concerned for him, this monster, but you needed to know if he was ok. “S-Sukuna..” You cautiously address. You could barely talk, you felt.. full. “Are you ok..?” you asked with a concerned look on your face. He doesn’t answer you. He just stares at you, heavily breathing with eyes he could barely keep open. He lets go of your wrists and puts two hands underneath your back, pulling you to his chest. He was still inside of you, this time slowly moving. You could feel it hit as deep as when he shoved it in. Each thrust of his made your mind go blank. You could hear him praising you, something along the lines of: “You’re holding up so well for being a virgin..” That was an unfamiliar word. He continued to thrust into you, each thrust getting more and more frantic as time went by. He let go of you and put your back on the bed once more, allowing him to move much more easily. He was going in a relatively rhythmic way, increasing his speed over time. “Fuck…” He moaned, pushing his dick deeper inside you with each movement. He was desperate for you. He’s acting like he’s been abstaining from doing such acts with a concubine for months, preparing for you. Could that be the case? Could he have wanted you for that long? You shake away the thought and focus only on the current events. His breathing was sporadic, you could tell he couldn’t handle these feelings for much longer. Though you could barely keep your eyes open, his powerful movements prevented you from properly looking at him, you got glances of his face. It was contorted in a way, but you could tell he was enjoying himself. Two of his hands were tightly gripping your hips as he thrusted into you. He continued to babble incoherent nonsense. You could tell he was close to this epitome of pleasure- something you could feel yourself. Every passing second you felt the build up, only for you to reach the climax when Sukuna allowed you to. Moments later Sukuna’s movements became less and less rhythmic. You could feel a warm sensation inside of you- your body slightly seizing up from the intense feeling you were receiving. Throughout that pure sensation of ecstasy, you felt a hot liquid shoot inside of you. You were slightly puzzled but had a more important thing to focus on. You slowly opened your eyes to Sukuna leaning over you, just staring at you… again. I suppose he doesn’t have a way with words… you thought to yourself. “...Good.” Sukuna muttered, still catching his breath from the rigorous activity you were both performing earlier. “R-Repeat that, please?” You calmly asked, tilting your head to the side to represent your confusion. “You did good.” verbatim, just this time audible. He pulled himself out of you and got up from the bed. He grabbed his ‘kimono’ and his pants, got dressed, and left. You laid there on the mattress, sweaty and uncomfortable. You felt dirty.

[starfirewildheart]

Chapter 3

The Wolf and the Flame

Summary: Geralt had just found Ciri and was headed to Kaer Morhen when something drew him into the woods. He found a woman near death and things changed for them all. (I suck at summaries just read please!) Yennefer is bad in the start of this but she and Geralt work on their friendship. Eskel is a dick at first but there is a reason and it works out. Will have a happy ending. Ciri is younger here than in the netflix show. She is about 12.

Warnings: abuse history, injuries, hurt comfort, no one under 18 to be safe, will add when I need to 

Words: 1717

They had been traveling for nearly a week. Naurel was getting stronger but Geralt was still worried. He knew something was not as it should be with her but he couldn't seem to get her to open up about the things that had happened. They came to the last city between them and the final part of the journey to Kaer Morhen. He knew they had to stop and restock supplies. Also, the humans needed a soft bed and warmth for a bit. They left the horses at the stable and walked over to the Inn. Naurel was leaning against him, holding his arm to help support herself or for his warmth, he wasn’t sure which. All he knew was that he didn’t mind it. In fact, he felt at peace when they were touching. 

Ciri heard someone singing inside the bar at the inn and bound up the steps. “It’s Jaskier,” she said excitedly. 

“Ciri,” Gerault sighed as she ran inside ahead of him. “Damn it that girl never listens.” He and  Naurel moved faster to catch up with her. Once inside Geralt grabbed Ciri’s arm and leaned close, whispering something to her that made her shiver and look repentant before he led her and Naurel to a table to sit. “Stay here where I can see you both while I get us a couple of rooms.” 

Naurel waited until he walked away to put her hand on Ciri’s arm that was resting on the table. “You are going to get hurt or end up making him so angry that he’s going to punish you.”

Ciri rolled her eyes. “Please, he’s not my father. I have no family which makes me an adult. I’m in charge of me.”

“You are far from an adult little miss and you are showing that childishness more and more by the day,” Naurel warned. “He cares about you. He worries about you. Stop making it harder for him.” She knew that Geralt was struggling to figure out how to deal with a child. He knew how to deal with a misbehaved witcher but not a young human girl so he just took what she dished out. The yelling, arguing, not listening, stubbornness that she likely got away with as a spoiled little princess and Naurel was losing patients with her. Ciri was a loving girl but she was being a huge brat. She looked up at Geralt as he sat heavily in a chair beside her, noting that he put himself where his back would be up against the wall. “Everything alright?”

He nodded. “Got two rooms with an adjoining door,” he eyed Ciri, “and a large tub.” He grinned when Naurel sighed happily. 

“Mmm, a bath sounds heavenly. Maybe if I boil myself I will actually heat my blood and stop having to steal your warmth,” she smiled at him. 

He reflexively pulled her close. “I don’t mind sharing warmth.”

Ciri made a slight gagging sound drawing their attention. “You two need to get a room.”

“We have a room. Two in fact,” Geralt smirked at her. He loved their teasing banter when she wasn’t driving him mad with worry. Naurel was listening to the two of them and jumped when someone plopped down in a chair near her at the end of the table.

“Geralt you gorgeous beast, who are you lovely friends?”

Geralt shook his head and sighed. “Jaskier,” he nodded in greeting. He let Naurel and Ciri introduce themselves though kept his arm possessively around Naurel. Jaskier was a friend but he was also amorous and for some reason that bothered him where his newest companion was concerned.

“How did two such lovely creatures end up with such a grumpy, silent companion?” Jaskier wondered. 

“He’s not silent nor grumpy,” you smiled at the bard. 

“He’s grumpy and bossy,” Ciri teased. 

The waitress approached and Geralt ordered food for the three of them before joining the conversation. “I’m surprised to find you this far north this close to the snowy season.  I know you hate cold weather.”

“You are right,” Jaskier chuckled. “Oddly enough I’ve been looking for you. You are a very hard witcher to find. You would think with the white hair, yellow eyes, and rippling muscles that you would stand out more.” Naurel chuckled.

“Jaskier,” Geralt grumbled, stopping the bard from babbling. “Why were you looking for me? Is everything alright?” 

“A friend, no, no she’s not a friend she’s a,” he stopped himself before he finished his thought. “Someone we have in common needs to speak with you. She’s rather insistent and very annoying and she keeps following me. I implore you, please speak to her before I throw myself off a cliff.”

Geralt paused as if he was considering the option of speaking to someone or letting him jump, only answering when Jaskier whined indignantly. He had an idea of who the bard was talking about but he wondered why she just didn’t come to him herself. He’d heard that she survived the battle of Sodden from Triss and he was happy to hear his friend was still alive. “Is she here?”

“I’m here,” Yennefer said from behind him. “We need to speak, alone,” she looked at the others pointedly. 

He nodded and stood. “Jaskier, stay with them until I return?”

“Of course,” he smiled as he started asking both of them questions.

Yennefer led Geralt to an out-of-the-way corner near the stairs. She noticed that he positioned himself so that he could still see the table. “I need your help. Something has happened. I’ve searched everywhere, through all the lore about magic and chaos except the books at Kaer Morhen.”

“What are you searching for?”

“A spell,” she lied. “I am searching for a spell to try and help Istredd study the monoliths.” She wasn’t going to expose her weakness to anyone. It was bad enough that the old woman was in her head calling to her, telling her to bring both the woman and the girl to her; she wasn’t about to tell him she had lost her ability to do magic as well.

“Why doesn’t that ring true to me?” Geralt gave her a look.

“Fine, don’t help me,” she hissed and started to walk away.

“Yennefer,” he stopped her. “Portal to Kaer Morhen. Vesemir is willing to work with sorceresses and mages. He will show you the books you are looking for.”

“Why don’t we just travel together?” she asked. “Seems like you seem to be gathering a rather large party on your journey,” she eyed his new friends. “I could help you look after them. They both seem sort of defenseless.”

He could use some help protecting them since Ciri seemed to be so dead set on getting herself hurt. Maybe with Yennefer’s magic, he could actually rest a bit. “You want to travel, on foot, in the cold. You know it will be snowing soon?”

“Please witcher, the weather does not bother me,” she scoffed and walked back to the group at the table. She made sure to place herself next to Naurel where Geralt had been. Jealousy made her blood boil when she noticed how Geralt looked at the woman. The witcher and his new child suprise were supposed to be her family, not this woman's. She was tired of life screwing her over and giving everyone else what was rightfully hers.

Geralt frowned but sat next to Ciri. “Yennefer has decided to join us for the rest of our journey home.” Naurel looked into his eyes in question but didn’t speak, Jaskier however did.

“I’m going to then,” he insisted.

“I thought you wanted to be rid of her?” Geralt asked.

“Rid of me?” Yennefer scoffed. “I saved your life.”

“No, you distracted him so I could run. That’s not saving me, that's being a tease,” Jaskier argued. Ciri laughed at the two of them.

Their food was served and Naurel picked a small piece off of her bread and ate it as she listened to Jaskier tell stories of his time with Geralt. The bard was funny and he had kind eyes. She liked him. She could see how he would get on Geralt’s nerves though with his knack for babbling and Geralt being stoic and quiet.

‘The redhead! Bring the red head’ the deathless mother screamed in her head over and over. It was becoming hard to ignore but she pushed it to the back of her mind and continued on with the conversation. “Awe you left out the story of how the three of us met,” Yennefer interjected. “All bloody and dying because of the Djinn. Geralt, ever the protector, riding in to find me to save you.” She saw the muscles in Geralt’s jaw flex as he clenched his teeth.

“Well, he ended up saving you too,” Jaskier snapped. “More than saving you if I remember correctly.”

“Jaskier,” Geralt sighed.

The bard looked up and quickly realized he’d said too much. “But he came to his senses!”

She closed the door behind her before laying on the bed next to her friend. “He thought she was dead,” she explained softly. She wanted to be sure she knew Geralt had not intentionally tried to hurt her though Ciri never realized that Yennefer and Geralt were mates.

“I know,” her voice choked as she lost her battle with her tears. “It’s my fault,” she repeated to herself more than Ciri. She took the comfort Ciri offered and allowed the young girl to play with her hair before she ran over to the chamber pot and vomited.

Wolf and flame tag list

@kneelforloki

@shellyshellshell

[megamindsecretlair]

It's a Little Warm, Part 4

Pairing: Bucky x Black!Fem!reader / Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. You are in charge of your own reading experience. Cursing. Allusions to abusive, toxic parents. Mentions of private parts. Mild age gap. Reader is late 20s and Bucky is mid 30s. Dom Bucky. Finally, some smut! Dirty talk, PIV and unprotected sex. Fingering, fem receiving. Part 4 of 5. Some sentences are intentional AAVE.

Summary: Sam Wilson is your play uncle and has invited you and Bucky to stay at a cabin with him, Sarah, and the kids. At dinner that evening, you promised to pay Bucky back for leaving you unfulfilled. You should've known that he'd take the reins right back.

Word Count: 2,831k

Read Part 1 | Read Part 2 | Read Part 3 | Read Part 5

A/N: Holy wow, four parts already? I know this took a while to get out. My brain wasn't braining, okay?! And I have nothing to say for myself, except I'm feral again and Bucky can always get it. Sorry if I missed any warnings. While likes are awesome, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers!

taglist: @softimgyu @blackreaderatrisk @braverthanthenewworld @multiversefanfics @monaeesstuff

The look on Bucky’s face was well worth putting on this dress. The only ones at the table at the moment were Aunt Sarah and the boys. The boys were oblivious, into a video game they played at the table. Aunt Sarah snapped her fingers and gave you a knowing look.

But Bucky’s face…you wish you could capture that look on his face. His eyes were narrowed, his nostrils slightly flared. He had a smirk on his face like he knew something you didn’t and you hoped that meant he was imagining ripping the dress off of you. 

You sat down next to him and blinked up innocently at him. “Hey everyone,” you said.

Bucky rubbed his jaw and sighed. Aunt Sarah shook her head and said hello. “How ya feeling?” She asked you.

“I’m fine. Damn, ya’ll are dramatic,”  you said.

The kids made fun of you for cursing. “Oh, stay out of grown folk business,” you said and stuck your tongue out at them. They stuck their tongues out at you. Aunt Sarah fussed at them to put the game away.

You snaked your hand on to Bucky’s thigh. It was thick and firm and to his credit, he didn’t jump. He looked at you and smirked. “What do you think you’re doing?” He asked.

“Having a bit of fun. Don’t we have fun with each other?” You asked.

“You’re playing with fire, doll,” he grumbled, low enough for just you to hear.

“I’m counting on it.” You grinned as Uncle Sam came outside, carrying a large tray of meat. 

Steam rose up from the steaks he cooked. It simmered in light grease and the marinade he used. Your mouth watered as he settled it in the middle of the table. Also on the table were various bowls that Uncle Sam and Aunt Sarah put together after everyone had come inside. 

You inched your hand closer to Bucky’s dick and his leg finally twitched. He ran his tongue over his canine as he looked at you. His heavenly blue eyes promised holy retribution and you shivered.

Together, you said a small grace before bowls were being passed around in a circle. You took a piece of steak and put it on your plate, along with veggies and mashed potatoes. You grabbed a hard cider from the side of you, and you all dug in, trading stories.

Night was starting to wash away the rich hues of orange and pink and lingering blue. Stars peaked out overhead. The heat finally died away, casting a gentle breeze off of the lake. The sun still hung around though, as if it didn’t want the day to end either.

“Man, and then he let some little girl whup his ass!” Uncle Sam chuckled as he talked about Bucky.

“You try balancing on a moving truck against super soldiers. Not all of us have wings,” Bucky playfully grumbled. 

Bucky wiped his mouth with his napkin and then placed his hand on your thigh. As he spoke and recounted what happened with the Flag Smashers, he talked animatedly with his left hand. His right hand, however, the sneaky bastard inched it over your thigh. 

He lifted the hem of your dress and teased your pussy over your panties. You bit your lip to keep from moaning. You concentrated on keeping your face neutral. Ain’t no fucking way he was going to try and turn the tables on you now, while he was telling a story. You had shown mercy letting him eat his food in peace.

As he spoke about Uncle Sam also getting his ass kicked on said truck, you slipped your hand back on his thigh. You ran your hand along his thickening bulge that seemed to keep growing the more you played with him. And damn him, he didn’t falter in his story once. You searched further, for the tip, and ran your nails across it. 

He choked for a bit and you hid a smirk. Bucky kept choking and he took a sip of water.

“Yeah, you know that was a lie. That’s why your ass is choking,” Uncle Sam said. The table laughed. You kept running your nails across his tip before he moved his hand out from under your dress.

He drank some water and you removed your hand. There was no way he could stand up now. Not without broadcasting that he was as hard as brick.

“I’m choking trying to get it out without laughing,” Bucky said with a grin. Uncle Sam smirked and drank his beer.

“Then what happened?” AJ asked. 

“Boy, you’ve heard this a million times,” Aunt Sarah said.

“I like hearing it,” AJ said with a shrug.

Aunt Sarah looked at you and rolled her eyes. You laughed and shook your head. 

“You sure you’re okay?” Aunt Sarah asked.

While Bucky continued to entertain the kids, you leaned over a bit.

“I am fine. Can ya’ll please stop worrying about me?” You asked.

“I know what this time of the year means…”

You waved her off. “I’m better than fine. I promise. It doesn’t hurt anymore. Do you believe me?” You asked.

Aunt Sarah searched your eyes, but with the approaching darkness, you hoped it hid how wide your eyes must look or how you were blinking too much. Yeah, this time of the year fucking sucked. When you decided to cut your parents off, it wasn’t a quiet parting. Half the neighborhood heard your screaming match.

Aunt Sarah let you stay with her while you shuffled what little things you managed to keep out of your parent’s house. She helped you grieve and mope. Helped you find a gig and move out to your own place. You didn’t need them. They were nothing more than tissue donors.

Aunt Sarah gave you one last look before nodding. You breathed a sigh of relief.

You tuned back into the conversation just as Bucky started mouthing off about John Walker.

“Don’t ruin the mood with that dollar store Captain Colonizer,” Uncle Sam barked out a laugh and nearly choked on his beer.

“Please, leave the name calling to Y/N. She’s better at it,” Aunt Sarah said and laughed.

“Hey, I’m better at names than she is!” Uncle Sam said.

The table was quiet for about two seconds before everyone erupted into a fit of laughter. It instantly raised your mood and you had tears in your eyes. “All ya’ll suck,” Uncle Sam grumbled.

“Can we go look at the stars now?” AJ asked.

“Yeah, it’s dark enough!” Cass seconded.

“Barely. You’re sure?” Aunt Sarah asked.

The kids nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, let’s go!” Uncle Sam was nothing but a damn kid himself. He challenged the kids to race him to the edge of the lake. Aunt Sarah shook her head.

“They love it when he comes to visit,” she remarked before she stood up and started tidying up.

“You go on ahead. We’ll clean up. The least we can do since you cooked,” Bucky offered.

Aunt Sarah gave him a look that definitely said she wasn’t buying that lame ass excuse. Bucky chuckled and licked his lips. “I swear. I was raised to help. I feel useless just sitting here,” he said.

“It’s called a vacation,” she said.

“Never understood the term.” He turned on his charming smile, the megawatt movie star one he was fond of tossing around. It should be illegal. He definitely knew what he was up to when he sicced it on people.

Not even Aunt Sarah was immune. Her face still held a skeptical look before she looked at you and raised her eyebrow. You gave her an innocent look.

“Clean up thoroughly,” she said ominously, looking at you specifically.

“Ew!” You said and waved her off. She laughed and headed across the yard towards the docks where Uncle Sam was pointing into the sky for the kids.

Once she was a safe distance away, Bucky looked at you. “You think you’re pretty cute, don’t you?” 

“Of course I’m cute,” you said. He chuckled and stood up, his dick at full attention and straining against his dark jeans. He gathered up some of the dishes, just like he said. He carried most of it, while you grabbed the tray that held the steaks and walked into the kitchen. 

No sooner had you both put your dishes down, did Bucky pull you by the hand and crowded your space. He stepped close, too close, until your bodies were pressed together. “You’re a fucking brat that doesn’t listen.” 

You blinked innocently at him. “I do listen, I swear. I’m just not used to being denied an orgasm. I don’t like it,” you said.

“You seem to have a hard time understanding who’s in charge here,” he said. His face did an adorable scrunch and you resisted the urge to smooth the furrow in his brow.

“Not really. We both know it’s me,” you said. You trailed your hand over his stomach and down his legs until you cupped him. He grinned, slowly, and ran his tongue over his lips. 

“That right, doll?” He asked.

“Yup. I’ve got you wrapped around my cute little finger,” you said. Bucky chuckled and threw his head back. Whether he was praying for patience or praying for strength you didn’t know, you just wanted him to touch you.

Bucky looked out of the window, to check on the family. He crossed the kitchen and turned off the lights, plunging you into near blackness. The porch light from outside cast long shadows on the kitchen floor.

Bucky grabbed your hand and pulled you towards the pantry. You yelped as he was none too gentle about it. He shoved you inside and closed the door, only leaving a tiny crack.

“You are such a fucking tease. You want it then?” His voice was breathless and seemed louder in the close quarters of the pantry. It wasn’t terribly huge, just big enough for three people to step into comfortably.

You couldn’t see him. You could only feel him as he fumbled with his belt and jeans. The metal of the buckle hit one of the shelves. The slide of the zipper pulled down. Next he was grabbing you by the hips and twisting you exactly how he wanted you, your back against his chest. He used his boots to slide your legs wider.

“Hands on the shelf, doll.” 

You complied. Your harsh breaths mixed with his as anticipation steadily built inside of you. Despite the desperate need you knew you both felt, his hands on you were slow and methodical. He ran his hands along your bare arms, down your sides. He cupped your breasts and you sighed.

He brought his head down to rest against yours. His fingers bunched up your dress. “So fucking needy, aren’t you?” 

You nodded. “Words, doll,” he said.

“Yes,” you said.

He kissed your neck, licked it. His breath fanned over it, creating a heady mix of sensations you could barely keep track of. 

“See, I wanted to do this nice and slow thing like a gentleman. Stretch that pretty pussy so you’d be ready for me and you’d be comfortable. But your needy ass couldn’t wait that long, could you?” 

“No,” you whimpered. His filthy words made you ache so painfully. You needed his hands on you. Where it mattered. Then the bastard groaned in your ear. 

You brought your hand back to play with his soft hair. He grabbed it and placed it back on the shelf. He chuckled. “I’m gonna have to teach you to fuckin’ listen.”

You ground your hips into his crotch. You didn’t care how pathetic you looked. You were only glad the light were off. There was nothing but feel and the sound of his voice. 

“Nothing to say?” He finally began to slide your dress up and over your thighs, over your hips. “You were so confident a few minutes ago.” 

“Dammit, Bucky…” You didn’t have time for teasing. He had been teasing you for the past day and a half. Everything he did was a tease. If he glanced at you, he was teasing. You couldn’t take it anymore. 

The bastard chuckled. He slid his hands inside your panties, going right to the core of you. You ought to be embarrassed by how wet you were for him. “That’s my girl,” he growled in  your ear.

He played with your clit, rubbing his fingers over and over in slow circles. “More, I want more,” you moaned.

“You want more? Beg me for it. Since you have me wrapped around your little finger.” 

He would choose now to throw your words back into your face. You didn’t care. Not as long as it meant you could finally have him. 

“Please, Bucky. Please fuck me,” you begged. “Please, please…” you cried. The more he played with you, the higher up on your tiptoes you went. His fingers felt so good playing with you. The wet suction of his fingers sliding into your pussy helped to drive your desire higher and higher.

“Shh, relax. Relax,” he whispered as he slowed his pace and made you sink back to the floor. He continued to go slow as he whispered and put you at ease.

He chuckled again and bit your ear. “You beg so pretty for me. Gonna have to try and keep quiet, okay?”

He slid his metal fingers into your hair and pushed you forward so that you were bent over. He used your slickness to coat his dick. Then, he moved your panties to the side and slid home.

You both cried out in a breathless moan as he filled you up completely. He left no room whatsoever. “Shit,” you cried.

Bucky chuckled and bit your ear again, holding on to your hip with his free hand as he began to move. He moved all the way out before slamming back in. He did it a few more times as you adjusted to his size. You slid easily. You were so wet, it started to leak down the inside of your legs.

The only sounds in the tiny pantry were his grunts, the wet slap of your thighs on his, and the whines you couldn’t keep quiet, no matter how much you wanted to. He set a brutal pace, slamming into you over and over. You dropped your head to the shelf in front of you and rode him. 

“That’s right. Move that ass. Gonna make me do all the work?”

“No…” You cried. 

“This what you wanted, huh? You wanted this cock inside this pussy,” he whispered.

“Yes, yes…” His fingers dug into your hip as he went deeper, hitting a spot no other man had been able to find. 

You felt him twitch inside of you. You were too far gone to make a snarky comment about it. You just needed to reach that peak. As if you were at the top of a rollercoaster and you were about to fall over. You were nearly there. You could feel it, gathering low in your belly. 

He groaned and whimpered in your ear. Both of you were dizzy with pleasure. “Come for me, doll. Come on, I can feel it. I can feel you squeeze this cock.”

You clenched painfully on him before he thrust deeper and you exploded around him. Your orgasm shook you to your core. You unraveled and it was only by his hand in your hair and on your hip that you didn’t float away.

You bit your lip so hard you tasted blood, trying not to scream the way you really wanted to. Bucky thrust one more time before he joined you, shooting cum into you. He kept going. He kept fucking it into you as if trying to brand himself there.

When he stopped twitching, he collapsed against you, pushing you into the shelves. Your breaths mingled as you tried to find a way back to your body. His mouth was against the back of your head.

He panted and groaned. He kissed your head. He kissed your jaw and the side of your neck. “That’s my beautiful doll. You’re so gorgeous.” He continued to kiss you and rub his hands up and down your arms as he stayed lodged inside you. 

Your legs were wobbly and you shook in front of him. You huffed and panted, calming down from such a powerful rush. 

He started to slip out of you and you felt a tiny rush of his cum leak out. It was obscene and so fucking hot. You moaned at the loss of him. 

He grabbed your chin and twisted you around until he could kiss you, his lips moving sloppily over yours.

“The hell are ya’ll at?”

You gasped. You had just enough time to fix your panties before the door swung open. Bucky moved quicker, shielding you from Uncle Sam.

“The fuck is going on here?!”

Read Part 1 | Read Part 2 | Read Part 3 | Read Part 5

[da-xiao-jie]

haven't posted about cdramas in a bit, but I've been burning through The Legend of Shen Li this week and while I've been enjoying the slower pace while plot threads gather in the background, the romantic aspect, the not so subtle discussion of fate and responsibility, etc. something popped up around EP 33ish and now I have to rant about it.

(Spoiler warning)

The biggest obstacle to Shen Li and Xing Zhi is the fact that He's a divine Immortal and as the last one left, he has a responsibility to protect the three realms without using his powers for selfish purposes.

At the same time, Xing Zhi is lonely and bored and utterly isolated by being the last of his kind so he's definitely a sympathetic character.

Right up until, having saved Shen Li and nursed her back to health, finally returning to the heavenly realm, Xing Zhi brings her to his realm and proceeds to basically imprison Shen Li there where she won't get hurt

and. like.

this is what gets me. the whole show builds up to this. Shen Li is engaged to someone else, but after leaving the human realm, she acknowledges her duty and tries to convince herself to focus on what her role ought to be. Xing Zhi on the other hand can't help but tease and fluster Shen Li, keeping her emotions entangled with him and keeping her from her duty. She calls him out on this and he tries to course correct several times only to fall back into bad habits again later.

at the end of the day, Xing Zhi's love for Shen Li is selfish. he's lonely and bored and here comes this captivating woman who loves him! but when she matures a little and sees that she can't be with him for the sake of the world, she tries to back away and stay focused on her duty, to her realm, her soldiers, etc. And! without! fail! Xing Zhi drags her back. until finally, having recovered from torture and regaining her powers, she's determined to return to her realm and resume her responsibilities and see her people after being presumed dead and what does he do? he traps her. against her principles. why? to keep her forever for himself.

the most telling and frustrating thing is a conversation where Shen Li says, "this relationship isn't the sole reason for my existence." talking about how she loves him, wants to be with him, but also needs to be with and protect her people. to which Xing Zhi replies, "Not the sole reason, but a reason for your existence." So the audience is relieved for all of 10 seconds before, in response to Shen Li claiming that she is not his pet bird that he can't keep her in a cage, Xing Zhi proceeds to cage her.

I just—

I would root for them much more if there was some sense of duty on his part instead of him continually pulling her away from hers. Like, yeah it's unfair, we get that. However love is not selfish. It needs to be selfless or it just becomes possessive obsession.

i haven't finished yet. Still have 5-6 episodes to go, but I needed to rant for a sec

might post again about this one, but who knows?

[googleitlol]

Posting a shorter bit since this is taking longer than I planned. This next week is gonna be pretty busy, so I wanted to try and put out something before I can't, heh

Anywho, hope you all enjoy!

Dove masterlist:

Warnings

The wind howls, a thunderous cry that bellows by your ears as you soar over treetops scattered along a mountain range. The sun shines bright overhead, only partially covered by the clouds spread sparsely across the sky. It seems as though there are no signs of civilization on this terrain, with how densely the trees pack together along the side of the mountain, aside from the narrow path you left the pilgrims on. With the beauty of the day, you find yourself thankful for the time apart from your companions.

Everyone seems to be on edge these days, the long hours trekking through wilderness taking its toll on everyone in the group. The others were getting to be more grumpy, snappy, overall just tired. You decided as a group you would rest at the next settlement on the way to the west, but there were still several days to go before you’d reach it. With such a long way to go, you offered to go scan the mountain side for something quick to snack on, hoping you could find something that would put everyone in a better mood. After all, empty stomach’s have never been known to help improve a person’s mood. It also served to give you some time to breathe. 

You land once you find an orchard of peaches, the fruit ripe and ready for the picking. Walking through the trees, you find a trunk to climb, its branches full with an ample amount of the stone fruit. You start to pick the fruit, careful of the ones too young to be tugged off. Resting on a thicker, lower branch, you reach up to grab at one dangling above your head. Just as you pull it down, you notice a hand reach for your bag of peaches from behind. Rolling your eyes, you use your free hand to slap it away, the monkey it belongs to shouting when you do. “Hey!”

Just when you thought you might get a chance to have some peace and quiet. “You’ve had enough stone fruit in your life, don’t you think?”

“Hah, you know me so well.” Wukong laughs, hanging off another branch just by his tail before twisting to land on his feet next to you. Despite the collective sour mood of your party, the tension between you and Sun Wukong has, for the lack of a better word, shifted. You couldn’t say whether it was a positive one or not, though things had definitely felt different since the ginseng incident. The demon still very much loves the sound of his own voice, but that voice was now less… antagonistic than before. Perhaps you could say he was a little more bearable, just barely. You had found yourself feeling almost awkward because of his behaviour. You didn’t exactly get along, but you weren’t outright annoying one another like before.

However, you can still find yourself feeling irritated if he ever pushes too much. You just can’t help but find his behaviour suspicious at times. “Then again, of course you do. You got to witness me taking on the heavenly army first-hand back then, huh?”

You look back at him after stuffing the peach back into your bag, a little put-off by his reminiscing. “…Yes. I did.” What, is he feeling nostalgic?

“When was it that your stay in the jade palace started again?” He asks, following you as you jump down from the tree and begin to climb another. “It had to be after I was incarcerated in that furnace, right? I’m sure we would have met if it was before. I met quite a few beings in my time there, made many friends and acquaintances.” That’s one way to put it.

You offer an awkward laugh to his rambling. “Yeah, it sounded like you were the life of the party back then.” You can’t help but roll your eyes a little before finding another stone fruit ripe enough for harvest, oblivious to the way the demon’s face lifts at your words.

“So you only heard about my time before the furnace.” He thinks aloud, making you pause. “Then, you were on Guan Yin’s mountain before?”

What is he getting at? “Yes.”

“I can only imagine some of the wild events that happened back then.” He sighs, and you hear shuffling from behind. You look back to face him only to find the monkey gone, and when you turn back for the fruit, you see him hanging by his tail, eating the peach himself. “It’s funny.”

Yeah, this is starting to get annoying. “What is?”

“That my brothers and I know so much about one another, but aside from your power and being Guan Yin’s little birdie, there’s not much we know about you.” You can’t help but roll your eyes, since when was he so interested in your old life?

It’s become a bit of a trend lately, his insistent buzzing around you, asking all sorts of bizarre questions. His sudden piqued interest just feels so random and out of character from what you’ve seen of him. Before you can ask him why he’s become so interested in your past as of late, you catch his hand going for your bag again. Wasn’t he just eating another peach?!

“Stop that, already.” You scold, pulling the bag away from his grasp, his other peach already gone. How fast can he eat those things?!

Wukong, still upside-down, crosses his arms “Master won’t eat all of these, why don’t you take one yourself? Maybe it’ll make you less uptight. I wanna see the Dove your master was talking about in the Abbey.”

A puff of air escapes through your nose in a pathetic laugh before you turn to pick one last stone fruit, inspecting it a bit before pulling it down. “I don’t eat peaches.” You admit while counting your haul. This should be plenty for now, and you’ll have some left over for the others to snack on in the evening.

A sudden burst of laughter disrupts your thoughts, the Monkey King clutches his stomach as though he had just heard the funniest joke in the world. You crouch on the branch, straight-faced as you wait for him to calm down. He only registers your expression after wiping away a stray tear, his brows furrowing slightly as his laughter slows to a stop. “Wait, was that not a joke?”

Instead of answering, you hop down from the tree and begin your walk back to the group. Footsteps from behind quickly overtake you, the monkey turning to face you, walking backwards as you continue towards where you left the rest of the party. “What do you have against peaches?” He asks, his expression one of outright disbelief.

You stop walking, your irritation growing from the question. “…Why are you here, Sun Wukong?” “Master was worried, he wanted someone to check on you and Pigsy volunteered me.” He shrugs. Of course he did.

You roll your eyes before walking past the demon. “How thoughtful of him.”

Wukong pauses for a moment before following your path, annoyance beginning to prick in his voice. “We’ve been travelling together for some time now, Dove, and honestly? I don’t care much for why you despise me so much. But I must ask, why not peaches?”

Why is this the most important thing to him right now? You look back at him, uncertain as Tripitaka’s words ring in your mind from the night you told him of your grievances. For so long, you believed Sun Wukong would find more amusement in what happened than anything, but after recent events, you feel unsure. You’ve seen now that he does in fact carry the capacity to care for others, his defence of his master in front of Zhenyuan showed that. 

But it felt all too sudden a change to trust. What if it was just a fleeting moment of compassion? After all, he’s known to be a trickster, a being who only acts to benefit himself, and this newfound curiosity in your history puts your mind at no ease. Sure, you don’t exactly ‘despise’ him as he puts it, but it doesn’t mean you’re willing to let him suddenly get to know you. All his pestering, it hardly even comes off as friendly. It feels like he wants something more than anything.

After a moment’s silence, you turn back to continue walking. “Why don’t you fly ahead and tell Tripitaka I’m on my way? Then he can stop worrying about me and you can leave me alone.”

The monkey takes a moment to respond, and you hear a scoff from behind. “You know, with a gift as tranquil as yours, one would think you’d turn out to be less miserable.” His words jab into your side, and you can’t help but laugh.

“Take the credit where you earn it, ape. I may have dealt with my share of misery through my years, but it was made all the worse the day you entered my life.” You look over your shoulder, just catching the demon’s eyes as they widen.

His look of surprise lasts only for a second before it's replaced with a more placid expression. He says nothing before leaping off into the skies, atop his cloud and towards his master and fellow disciples. You start to chew at the inside of your cheek, watching from where you saw his figure in the sky just moments prior. That wasn’t too harsh, was it? You expected some sort of witty comeback, not a silent departure.

You continue with your walk back to the others, taking your time to calm down and enjoy the quiet you don’t usually find in your current company. Though, the longer you’re left alone with your thoughts, the more you begin to question your words. Should you feel bad? …He’ll be fine. A few mean words have never stopped him before, with how much time you’ve spent with him, you know that better than anyone.

Your thoughts are immediately silenced as a scream pierces through the sky.

Now alert, your leisurely pace raises to a sprint to return to your allies. The path quickly becomes visible, and you follow it until your party appears. Wujing holds the reins of Ao Lie, behind the others with Bajie at his side, blocking your view. The demon winces before turning his face away, and it clicks in your mind who the screams are coming from. More specifically, why.

You push past the two demons to find Tripitaka muttering beneath his breath, with Sun Wukong writhing on the ground in front of him clutching his head. “Stop! What are you doing?!” You grab the monk by his arm and pull him back, the monkey demon slumping to his side once the spell stops.

The monk is quick to pull his arm back, anger inscribed over his features in a way you’ve never seen before. “I cannot do it anymore! The fire, the ginseng tree, and now this?! I can’t go any longer with this demon!”

“What happened…” You feel your words trail off as your eyes catch the limp body of a young woman some ways ahead of the path. You look between the Monkey King, the corpse, and the bloodied staff that he had dropped between them. Sun Wukong, what did you do?

Tripitaka is quick to answer your question. “He killed that poor girl! She was only offering us food when he hit her with his staff.” He explains, the offender moving to push himself up after catching his breath.

“Are you blind?! I was only trying to save you!” He huffs, still recovering from the pain of his crown. “Look at what she was serving you!” He moves to grab the rice bowl that lays by the woman’s hands, throwing down at his master’s feet. Maggots spill out, worming overtop one another as you and the monk step back in disgust.

You see the monk frown, his anger giving way to confusion. “What? But I was sure she offered us rice…”

“Oh, please.” Pigsy butts in, rolling his eyes. “How do we know this isn’t just one of Brother Pilgrim’s illusions? So he could justify killing that human girl.”

“Are you a moron?!” Wukong gets back up, he might as well have been glaring daggers into the pig, the emotion in his voice so palpable you can practically feel it.

“Enough!” The two stop once their master speaks, the monk letting out a sigh carrying the weight of his stress over the last few nights. “I can’t continue with a murderer as my disciple.” Wukong’s eyes widen at his words, and you find yourself mirroring his expression. “How long have we been on the road and still you have learnt nothing? If you cannot learn from your errors, there will be no room for you on our journey.”

You’re quick to step in before he can continue. “Tripitaka, I understand he upset you with his actions, but you should not rush a decision like this.” In all honesty, you aren’t sure if you believe Pigsy entirely, but you still feel conflicted on who to believe. Yes, Wukong can be impulsive, but never before has he outright killed a person for no prominent reason. No matter what the truth is, you can’t let Tripitaka send away his most powerful disciple, not when there is so much road left ahead of you.

Resting a hand on the monk’s shoulder, you use your gift to soothe him. He can’t make such decisions with his emotions out of sorts, not rationally. “Whether you like it or not, Sun Wukong was chosen to serve you on this journey. As troublesome as he can be, we would not be this far along the journey without him.”

You look back at the sage while you speak, his eyes not meeting your own before Tripitaka takes a deep breath. He still seems agitated, but now in a more reasonable headspace. “Very well. I will forgive you, this time.” He looks down at his disciple, you’ve never quite seen this shade of anger on the monk before. Wukong glares back up at him, his own irritation of his master’s reaction clear in his eyes.

The two of them remain there, unmoving, until Sandy clears his throat. “Alright, then! Little Soother, how about we have some of those peaches you’ve brought back? We can find a place to sit a little further ahead and eat before continuing the path.” He pats you on the back and you nod.

At Wujing’s suggestion, you all go on through the mountains before finding a spot to eat. Tripitaka turns away to eat while you pass out the collected fruit to the others, offering a peach to Monkey King. He scoffs when you do, shouldering you as he walks past. “I don’t need you defending me to my master.”

“And I don’t need you getting on the Tang monk’s last nerve.” You glance at the monkey from the side of your eye, putting down the bag of peaches to rest by Ao Lie. “I’m not stupid, Tripitaka needs you to get to the west. I’m looking out for his best interest.” You explain before transforming to rest in a nearby tree while the others eat. Wukong follows you with his gaze for a moment before turning his back.

You watch your companions from your vantage point. When the journey had only started, everyone would take a moment like this to talk and share stories with one another. There’d be laughter and playful jesting, but the weight of travel has taken its toll on everyone. All of you are tired, it’s clear enough to anyone who might stumble upon your party. You just hope everyone will be able to get through the rest of the day without any more incidents.

[mozeloon]

on the good omens s2 finale ....

Finally got around to watching this show and at first I was very surprised with the turn of events in episode 6... esp Aziraphale saying "you're the bad guys" about hell, and in general being so happy to invite Crowley back to heaven with him. I thought, surely he knows Crowley would say no, how could he be so naive? truly a tough watch, i was cringing but so invested. And I knew ahead of time they were going to kiss!!! I didn't know it was going to be this way!!!!

I see a lot of parallels between Azi and Zuko's redemption arc in ATLA. In season 2 of ATLA, Zuko is utterly rejected by and pitted against the family and nation he has relied on/been loyal to. Now, he is completely relying on the one person who truly loves him, and he is forced by his circumstances (and gently guided by Iroh) to reckon with taking a new direction in his life. This involves a lot of grief and struggle, and finally, when Zuko starts to adjust to his new life, to find joy in it, he is offered the greatest possible temptation: a glorious return to his family and title.

His father and sister have not changed or regretted their treatment of him; Azula's coaxing at the end of S2, telling Zuko she needs him, is very similar to how she traps Zuko at the beginning of the season, telling him their father regrets his banishment and wants to keep his children close. But from Zuko's perspective, he wants to believe that they do have regrets – that they recognize his efforts and his actions (like how he asserts that "I have changed" when he joins Azula against the gaang).

We know from watching the series play out that this is a necessary regression in his character arc - he needs to encounter these temptations, and eventually turn away from them, for his redemption to feel earned and complete. If not given the chance to return to the fire nation, his life in Ba Sing Se could be seen as making the best of a bad situation - he could still dream every night of returning home.

To return to Good Omens, this is much how I saw S2 play out. Aziraphale, long loyal to heaven despite occasionally diverging according to his own morals, is left a little more on his own and is clearly a bit put out about "not reporting to heaven" anymore. He gets to enjoy shenanigans with the one person who unconditionally loves him, and gain confidence in the decisions he is making against the will of the heavenly bureaucracy, when he is offered the chance to get back everything he lost. Like Zuko, Aziraphale is manipulated into thinking that heaven has changed, because he is being rewarded for his actions with a promotion – so of course, they are on the same side!

I think, despite hearing Crowley say over and over that he is not interested in being on the side of heaven or hell, Aziraphale has always projected a bit of his own feelings about the matter: he thinks Crowley is just saying that because that is a way to make the best of their situation. Not to mention that they both feel that Crowley's fall was undeserved. Aziraphale, like Zuko, have both been indoctrinated to be grateful for any kind of recognition or acceptance, even if they are poorly treated in the process. I would imagine that Crowley, who had to unlearn this long ago, is also worried Aziraphale might be hurt or corrupted by the system around him.

For this reason, I don't think the Metatron will immediately reveal himself as evil and subdue Aziraphale, or that Crowley and Azi have switched bodies again, or that Aziraphale is already hatching some genius plan, or anything like that. In the same way that Zuko had to return home to realize he lied to himself about how his life would turn out, Aziraphale is still hoping to make a positive difference and find a way to reconcile these different threads of his life. This is at the root of his naive, black-and-white thinking during that final confrontation with Crowley - he's just desperate and trying to convince himself. Only once back in heaven will he realize he cannot fit back into his old mold.

I have more thoughts but that will have to be for another post.