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hunnylagoon · 5 months

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Take Me to War

PT1 Friendly Fire

Streamer! Ellie Williams x reader

A writer, I think is someone who pays attention to the world. We are observers, it is in our nature to be off-putting and turn shallow things deep.

Premise: Your neighbour is becoming increasingly loud and you decide to do something about it.

PT 2 Here!

Two things I hate the most?

My neighbour and New York City.

They shared something in common, they never rest. I liked my quiet life in my small town until I was convinced that all of the greatest writers lived in the city, what a joke. I sold my virtue to move to New York and now my body burned with the shame of not belonging.

I worked as a journalist and in advertisement but it didn't fill the gaping mass that consumed me, I felt like a sellout so I quit to do freelance, and now I feel like even more of a sellout. Freelance is making me think that I hate ghostwriting more than I hate my neighbour and New York City.

It's like you do all of the work and get zero reward but I'm desperate to pay the bills and all that stuff I've been telling myself all my life 'I may never be a rich man but the rich man will never have me' well, the rich man most certainly had me. I was paid an almost criminal amount of money to pour my soul into art just for it to get stamped beneath a new name and make a gross income six times the size of what I sold it for.

I look for happiness everywhere but I do not find it. I search for it in things everyone seems to pry joy from; I go clubbing, walk in Central Park, and date around, but happiness doesn't seem to exist there for me.

I plead for it in my morning cups of tea with a spoonful of honey, the sunshine glittering in a puddle after a rainstorm, for a brief moment, it flickers in the light of my cinnamon-scented candle. The truth is I am almost comforted by my sadness and it is in my lowest moments that my creations are the most beautiful, it is like I am dead and I despise those who aren't for I enjoy the company of my silence more than anyone I have ever met.

It was my dream for my name to be above 'New York Times Best Selling Author' but instead, it is just my work beneath it and maybe that's why I'm so bitter.

Right now as I am trying to salvage the bits and pieces I was given by a washed-up pop star for her memoir my neighbour is screaming and laughing incoherently in their apartment, it makes me miss living in an actual house.

The noise usually started up when I would finish up my writing and get ready for bed, then it would go all the way through the night. The dumb fucker probably threw parties every single night; my roommate never faced an issue with this as she worked at a club and was usually working when the deafening noises would begin.

I on the other hand who lived in that apartment and worked from that apartment was always cursed to listen to the random thumps and spats of laughter that sounded all through the night. At least once a night when I'm sound asleep, I hear a bang against the wall and each time without fail, I'm brought awake with my heart thumping.

Trust me, I have retaliated.

On occasion when I'm sleep-deprived and at my absolute limit I'll bang on the walls, that only stops the noise for a minute. I've even complained to my landlord and that one week was heaven until it eased back to the clamour that I've almost grown used to.

Almost.

I still hate it.

I'm broken from my thoughts when my phone rings, it vibrates till it's almost at the edge of my desk and I feel for it; don't worry buddy, I wanna jump too. I read the caller ID and I almost wanted to gag, it was a woman from the publishing company who reached out to me and asked me to write Nicole Elliot's novel. Despite wanting to throw my phone against the wall to stop Noemi's constant checkups and get back at my neighbour while I'm at it, I answer the phone "Hey, Noemi!" I glance out the window where the winter sun has long set, leaving nothing but billboards, street lamps and neon signs to light up the New York night. Under the unforgiving lights I can barely make out the gentle snowfall.

"Hey," She draws it out and I can hear in her voice that she is smiling "I know it's a little late, just checking in, how is the draft coming along?" A loud thump sounds against my wall along with intolerant cackling "What's that?"

"Just some street noise," I dismiss "Anyways, the draft is coming along great, I'm a couple thousand words away from finishing it. I will of course send it to you and I would really love it if you could reach out to Nicole and ask for her opinion on it before I carry on with the final copy," I give a middle finger to my wall, even if my neighbour can't see me, it makes me feel a little bit more formidable "I did follow her outline, which was difficult but I think I salvaged it pretty well."

This time there is a yelp from my neighbour and what sounds like someone slamming their hands down onto a table, Noemi thankfully ignores it "You haven't been in touch with Nicole?"

My eyebrows furrow "She hasn't responded to any of my emails and she's been turning down all of our scheduled Zoom calls, so no, I have not been in touch with her."

"Weird," Noemi comments and there is a brief break of silence between us "She's been M.I.A on our end too," I could hear her scribble something down. "So can you get the draft to me by Friday?"

Two days? If I lock myself inside and don't see the sun then I totally can "Absolutely!" I do work better under a deadline.

"Great," She sounds almost relieved "We will hunt down Nicole, it would be nice to get her greenlight with this but whether or not she approves it, she has already signed off and it will be going to print."

"Okay," I fight the urge to respond with 'sick' or 'aight' because I'm an adult now and someone who is masquerading as a professional.

"Sorry, what was that you mentioned about an outline?" Noemi asks, she sounds more confused with each word "I wasn't aware Nicole made any-

She is swiftly cut off by a crash from the other side of my wall, when I say crash I mean it. It sounded like someone just bodied their car into drywall. My eyes went wide as I saw a crack splitting up my once pristine white wall. I hold my phone against my collarbone as I get up and pound my fist against the wall, giving it a kick for extra measure.

"Is everything alright?"

"Certainly," The nice thing about phone calls is that the person on the other end can't see your awkward habits or subtle outbursts (Or neighbours breaking through your shared wall). After I hit the wall, everything went silent for just a second before laughter sounded heavily from multiple people. "Noemi, thank you for sourcing me out to write this, I am really grateful for this opportunity I will send you that draft on Friday." I try to wrap up the call but she speaks up.

"Well, I've read your work and I was very impressed, I trust you will do well with this. Sorry to have called you so late-

"Thanks, have a nice night now!" I'm talking faster than I can even think, the only thing in my head is the fact that my neighbour is slowly deteriorating my wall.

"Wait-

Before Noemi can finish her sentence, I've hung up the phone. I'm leaning back in my cushy office chair, hands gripping my hair as I stare down the newly formed crack in the wall. I don't entirely like to be confrontational, even in school I hated drama, but I was beginning to think it was necessary.

I saved the progress I had made on the memoir and pushed myself up from my desk. I was clad in nothing more than a t-shirt and some plaid pants, it was my writing attire and in the moment I didn't care much to make a good first impression. It was fucking freezing the second I got up from my desk.

The moulding on my bedroom window was broken which allowed the frigid New York air to slip into my room and make me shiver with each breath. At my desk, I would usually have a throw blanket to shroud my freezing body but the moment I discarded it, I felt regret. I almost wanted to wrap myself in it to confront my neighbour but the pyjamas alone didn't help me look tough.

I did however shove my feet into some cow slippers and march right up to their apartment.

Apartment 2D stood in front of me, the pastel blue door making me angrier with every second that I looked at it. I rapped my knuckles on the wood and crossed my arms to stop me from shuddering.

My nerves built up as I slowly heard a door within the apartment shut followed by footsteps leading to the door. I would just ask them politely to quiet down and calmly work on a way to fix the shared wall that they are slowly ruining.

The door opens and staring me down is a woman. I had expected it to be a man to be truthful. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, the colour teetered on the verge of auburn and brown. The woman is clad in a black tank top and grey sweatpants, it's almost parallel to my outfit.

"You need to be quiet," I say the first words that come to mind "And stop assaulting my fucking wall."

She sucks a sharp breath through her teeth "Are you apartment 3D?" She asks to which I nod "I knew you would be stopping by soon." She has this sheepish and almost sardonic smile on her face and despite the amusement she's portraying I can see sadness brewing in her green eyes like a storm.

"I don't know what you're doing in there where you are up all night, I don't even have a clue how you sleep and work with all this time to spare to be a nuisance." I say and then swiftly feel the urge to backtrack "I'm sorry, that was a little rude, but mate, I can't sleep or work when you're being loud doing whatever you do."

"Fuck," She mutters looking back into her apartment and then at me "I'm sorry, I'll keep it down."

"What about the wall?"

Her eyes look me up and down, settling on my cow slippers "I'll find someone to fix the wall."

I press my lips tight together, looking dead into her eyes, scraping my brain for something else to say. It was almost like I wanted to fight. I had expected this to be a full-out conversation that ended in yelling but god she was pretty and she was telling me just what I wanted. "Okay."

"Okay?"

I regard her once more with what I assume is a cold glare before ushering back into my apartment and slamming the door behind me, the whole time, my neighbour watches me from her doorway.

That was the first night of uninterrupted sleep I'd had in a month.

I woke up earlier than I would've liked when my roommate Margot came home from work at 4:56 on the dot. She made sure to slam every single door and cupboard before throwing herself onto her bed in all of her makeup and musty clothes that had to endure whatever happens at a nightclub between the hours of 8 pm and 4 am, which I can't imagine is very clean.

Still, even though I was a little ahead of schedule I fell into my morning routine. It started with ignoring my phone, this was followed by a mug of Bengal spice tea with a teaspoon of honey and a splash of cream.

Sometimes I would curl up on the couch, though it snowed last night and I loved fresh snow. Freshly fallen snow absorbed sound, it was like soundproofing for the earth. There wasn't anything like the rare peace you could find in New York. I figured I would have my morning tea on the fire escape.

My peaceful image was destroyed the second I pried my window open and crawled through I was hit with the intense smell of pot. "Shit," I mutter, instinctively wafting the scent away from my nose.

"Sorry, man," I see my neighbour leaning against the railing of the fire escape, nursing a joint. It hadn't crossed my mind that I shared a level of the fire escape with her, I had never seen her out here but now the smell of weed that drifted through the damaged moulding on my window made sense, I had always assumed it to be Margot.

"Joint for breakfast?" I ask, half-joking. A dusting of powdery snow adorns each step and railing, creating a delicate layer of white that contrasts with the industrial gray of the metal though it looks like my neighbour has pushed all of the snow off the platform.

"Nah, for dinner I guess, it helps me sleep," She's in the same outfit from last night, except her hair is now loose around her face and she threw a hoodie over her tanktop.

I furrow my eyebrows "You've been up all night?" The slight tension from the previous night has dissolved completely.

"Yeah," She says it like it was a stupid question and it partially was but I hadn't stayed up that late since New Year only because I was the designated driver and was in charge of getting everyone home safe. "I don't sleep much, that's probably why I keep you up all night."

I mean, I'd let her keep me up in other ways "Honestly, I've gotten used to it, it's almost like white noise." I try to sympathize even if it isn’t necessarily true.

"Next time I'm loud, you have every right to bang on my door and chew me out." She takes a drag from her joint and I watch as the smoke escapes her lips, her cheeks tinted pink from the cold.

"Good to know," I glance behind her at the open window and all I see are purple LED lights cutting through the darkness of her apartment. "Now I know that we share a fire escape I'll just crawl through your window and yell at you that way," I joke, taking a sip from my snoopy mug.

This makes her laugh in the slightest, she crushes what remains of her joint on the cold railing and tosses the bud into the pot of a dead plant that's covered in snow and has lived on this fire escape long before I moved in; one time I just about removed it but I felt bad, it's like I was evicting it from its rightful home "Feel free."

"Am I allowed to ask why you're up all night breaking the sound barriers?" I ask, pulling my fuzzy robe tighter around my body to fight the bitter air. "Are you the leader of a cult? Would it be better for the world in the long run if I push you right now?"

The corners of her lips curl up into a smile once again "You've figured me out, just know I've got some big plans with Koolaid," She plays into my teasing.

"It was flavour-aid, actually." I don't know why I said that.

"What the fuck is flavour-aid?"

"Koolaid basically," Silence stretches between us "So what do you actually do all night?"

"It's a bit complicated," She says, of course, it was complicated. "I work from home," She couldn't do something normal, she probably did voice acting or ran a podcast or some weird shit like that.

"Sick," Don't worry, I made myself cringe when I said that too "I work from home too."

"Yeah, you said something about work last night, are you in marketing?"

I shake my head "I'm a writer," every time I tell someone that, I feel a twinge of embarrassment. I know it wasn't a noble career like my parents had hounded me over, but it felt noble to me. I had two absent parents and was raised by a pack of wolves, I would devour as much food as fast as I could because I didn't know when I would be eating next. I was far too emotional to be around all of the narcissists who preferred their own faces to my company, the only friend I had was the written word.

Since then I have been serving my soul up to strangers through word documents.

The thought makes me homesick for the arms that did not hold me and I truly expect my neighbour to make a mockery of me, the way others have. The way they've told me 'It's a tough industry but hang in there!' and pat me on the back like I'm a hopeful child clinging to her mother's skirts.

"That's really cool," She smiles while she gazes out to the skyline, I can see her perfect side profile and ski-slope nose "I wanted to be a writer, I thought myself to be a poet, and then I thought myself to be a scientist and wanted to be an astronaut. Now, I'm here."

"Where's here exactly?"

"Working things out, figure it out as I go," She shrugs like she is unsure of her answer.

I think it's beautiful how everything around me has been touched by human hands and carries so much history. For a quick moment, my mind wonders to those who built this building, the calloused hands that crafted the iron railing and now my neighbour who was leaning against it. "What's the end goal with this whole freefall thing?"

"To make it out alive."

"And your name?"

"It's Ellie."

That night Ellie stuck to being quiet as she promised. The next night was a different story. I was so close to finishing the draft of Nicole Elliot's memoir and was praying that the deadline would pass with no issue.

However, the noise began again. I was coming around to like Ellie and I didn't want to go yell at her again so I shoved my headphones in and turned up my playlist as loud as I could. There is no song I can blast in my headphones to drown it out.

She did say that the next time I was loud I could come and chew her out, I wouldn't do that; I would just knock on her door and quickly tell her that she was being too loud, and then we would both carry on with our respective work.

I stopped in front of the smooth door and raised my hand to knock. Ellie slips the door open just a crack, when she sees that it's me she opens the door. "Hey, Ellie."

"Hello," She smiles "To what do I owe the pleasure?" She had a very nice smile.

We both know the circumstances of my visit but I spell it out anyway "Dude, you're way too loud, it's disruptive and I'm working under a deadline."

"I know, I'm sorry." She looks genuinely apologetic.

"I don't know any office job that needs you to scream for hours on end," Alright, that blows what could've been a simple visit where she apologizes and I leave, I always had to add on.

"Right, sorry," She carries herself with so much confidence that it is like she is wearing armour made of gold though she has these subtle awkward tendencies of someone who has never been loved and was forced to improvise. "It's hard to explain,"

"Yeah, you've said-

"Do you wanna come and see?"

I'm taken a little aback and for a minute I think this is all a ploy for Ellie to lock me in her her apartment and kill me because she is sick of her neighbour banging on her door "What?"

"Well, you've asked a couple of times and if you have a minute I can show you."

I pause, mauling over her proposal. I think of my laptop on my spruce desk, open to the final pages of the memoir and I make up my mind "Alright, just not too long."

"If you say so," Ellie opens the door wider for me to move past her and then shuts it behind us.

Ellie's apartment is what I had expected from her even though it is surprisingly nice. She has a large L-shaped sofa in the living room adorned with throw blankets and pillows and a huge flatscreen with a coffee table in front of it. The layout is exactly like mine but inverted, her open kitchen has some odd knick-knacks that looked like they belonged on an Amazon must-haves list.

I don't go into her bathroom and the door leading to one of the rooms (What is equivalent to Margot's bedroom) is shut. The apartment itself is pretty sparse aside from little bits and pieces as she only moved in a month prior.

On the left side, I see that purple LED spilling out of what I assume to be her bedroom.

She walks in ahead of me and the second I follow in after her there is one question I have to ask "Ellie, are you a porn-star?" There are entirely too many computers in here. Her desk is set up with one of those fancy triple-screen PCs and she has a laptop placed seemingly randomly on a white loveseat that's pressed against the right wall.

There is one of those galaxy lamps that projects that trippy shit onto your walls and ceiling. The screen of her PC is facing our shared wall and I can see a huge hole where I assume that a loud crash from the other night occurred. Plastered all over the walls are posters from video games and movies, many of which I hadn't seen.

"What?" She sounds nearly offended "No," she grabs a folding chair from the corner of the room and unfolds it beside her black florid office chair. She sits on the folding chair and motions for me to sit in the office chair. "Come, sit."

I hesitantly sit in the chair "Are you going to attack me now?" I ask, getting defensive for no particular reason other than it was in my nature "Because I've read The Outsiders and I'm pretty sure I can fight."

She chuckles "I'm not gonna fight you."

"Because I'd win?"

She furrows her eyebrows but has this look of amusement on her face "Yeah, definitely."

"So what is this?" I motion around at all of her equipment.

Ellie puts one earbud in then hand me the other "Chat," She says, looking dead at the camera clipped onto her PC "This is my neighbour who came to yell at me for being annoying, she has every right."

"Who are you talking to?"

"I'm streaming," She said, clicking something on the screen so it changed, instead showing Ellie and I in front of the camera, I looked absolutely lost next to a rolling chat bar full of jokes that I didn't understand and people saying hello to me.

"So I was right," I turn my attention to Ellie "You are an internet person."

"Yeah, I'm an internet person but you weren't right, I don't do porn."

"Not yet," I shrug "Times are desperate," To this, the chats come in even faster than before. "So do you just sit here all night and scream at people?"

"I play video games and do challenges, sometimes I do just sit here and scream at them."

"That makes so much sense," I say "If there's any job that needs you to be obnoxiously loud and annoying, it's a youtube personality."

"Okay, well-

"So you're like Logan Paul?"

Her eyes go wide "No-

"What explains why your eyes are so bloodshot."

"You are a writer," She says it like it's a fact I wasn't aware of "You are in no place to judge, you probably spend as much time in front of a screen as me."

I nod "I hate to say you're right," My attention shifts to the hole behind me "Can you explain how playing video games put a hole through the wall?"

Ellie looks almost embarrassed, she doesn't say anything in response, instead, she just clicks something to screen share with us in a little box in the corner and then goes into YouTube. She types in 'Ellie Williams falls through wall' My eyebrows furrow as I read it, and she clicks the first video that pops up.

The video starts off strong; Ellie is cackling at something that her friend off-camera is saying, her friend then makes a comment that makes her laugh even harder and she throws herself back in her chair. This act breaks it, you can hear the chair snap beneath the pressure and Ellie just lets it happen as the chair crashes against the wall. Her eyes go wide when she realizes she's just put a massive hole into the wall and seconds later you can hear me on the other side banging my hands on the wall. Her eyes go wide and she stares at her friend off-camera, all of the laughter stops abruptly before her friend can't hold it in anymore and erupts in chortles, and the video cuts off.

My hand flies over my mouth to fight back the laughter I so badly want to let out. Ellie and I sit wordlessly, the only sound being donations on the screen and my giggles slipping through. Eventually, I manage to compose myself and look to Ellie, I don't have much to say except for "Oh my god."

A/N: Streamer! Ellie won the poll so here we are. As I was drafting out the other chapters for When I Was Your Girl, I decided that it is most likely to be discontinued unless I do a rewrite which will not be in the near future. I’m not rocking with the plot and there was a lot of mixed feedback, sorry if you were invested I guess, but you have this series to be invested in now!

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lacedinweb22 · 10 months

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Miguel O'Hara Masterlist ⋆˚｡⋆୨୧ 🕸 ୨୧⋆｡˚⋆

taglist sign up turn notifs on --(tagging sometimes fails so turn on notifs to be safe >:D) 18+ Mature setting toggle on --to avoid missing the NSFW 18+ stuff 😼 Requests must be from 18+ AGE IN BIO 🤬 Wattpad- lacedinweb22 🏴‍☠️

Vampire Next Door- (Miguel O'Hara x fem reader) Your neighbor is strange, to say the least. Miguel O’Hara: Alchemax’s newest scientist, genius, most sought-after bachelor … and according to your wildest suspicions … a vampire?

Chapter 1: New Girl *✩ Chapter 2: Night Terror ✮༻ Chapter 3: and I remember her... ˚○◦˚. Chapter 4: Just a Dream °✥ Chapter 5: watching her sleep ❦︎ Chapter 6: Noise Complaints *ੈ‧ Chapter 7: Seven Minutes in Heaven ♱☽🦇☾♱ Chapter 8: About Last Night °✧*:･ Chapter 9: Beginnings of Someone Else ⋆｡𖦹 Chapter 10: Once Bitten, Twice Shy °❆˚₊⋆ Chapter 11: New Year, New Me ❅˚⋆୧ Chapter 12: ⊱From the Outside⊰ Chapter 13: A… vampire ♱❦︎₊°

Headcanons -

On Your Period nsfw 18+

Pudge and Cuddles nsfw 18+

Desperate to Breed, Desperate for Your Scent nsfw 18+

your neighbor, stoner Miguel nsfw 18+ ✥°o｡

Miguel babies you when you’re sick ⁺‧₊˚ nsfw 18+

Blurbs-

dirty, drunk blurb nsfw 18+

dirty, drunk blurb part two nsfw 18+

morning sex blurb ⋆:°* nsfw 18+

One-Shots -

Miguel talks you through it nsfw 18+

Miguel knows how to… nsfw 18+

Valentine’s Day ❦︎⋆˙ nsfw 18+

good kitty - Spidey catches Kitty. Miguel x Black Cat (reader) nsfw 18+

good girl - nsfw 18+ You're trying to study but Miguel has other plans. face r*iding included >:)

just a quick study break... - nsfw 18+ You've been studying for hours and decide it's time to rest your eyes and take a quick break. You're awaken to an even better study break.

daddy's coworker - nsfw 18+ Your father leaves you at home with his coworker (your little crush). He works in your father's office, and you... distract him.

clean me up - After your first time together, you and Miguel take a bath.

feeling guilty - pt.2 of ⬆️ Miguel feels guilty and cleans up your wounds.

rough night - nsfw 18+ Miguel comes home from work roughed up. You offer your care, but he really only needs one thing.

Entangled (university AU)- After years of friendship, Miguel's recent changes become increasingly noticeable and suspicious to Y/N, causing them to stumble upon the truth of Miguel's secret identity and the revealing of their feelings for each other.

Ch. 1 "are you... jealous?"

Ch. 2 "Drunk and Crushing" pt.1

Ch. 3 "New Ride" flashback

Ch. 4 "Knight in Glitching Armor" flashback

Ch. 5 "Drunk and Crushing" pt.2

Ch. 6 "Stung by Jealousy" flashback

Ch. 7 "Web of Lies"

Ch. 8 "You're... Spider-Man"

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intuitive-revelations · 2 months

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Random headcanon I came up with early this morning, because I’ve been thinking about Gallifreyan language recently:

The reason why so many Time Lord things are decorated with circular Gallifreyan, often too impractically to actually be read (eg. on the Moment), is because it’s a cultural touchstone that remains from pre-/early-Pythian Gallifrey’s use of magical runes and sigils.

Presumably it was more typically Old High Gallifreyan used in that time (though The Timeless Children does seemingly confirm circular Gallifreyan existed at least as far back as Rassilon's time, if not earlier), however. Twelve describes it as ‘the language of the Pythia’ in The Lost Magic, and as Eleven says in The Time of Angels:

ELEVEN: There were days, there were many days, these words could burn stars and raise up empires, and topple gods.

This is obviously very reminescent of the Carrionites' (themselves from the Dark Times too) "word-based science" from The Shakespeare Code:

MARTHA: What did you do? TEN: I named her. The power of a name. That's old magic. MARTHA: But there's no such thing as magic. TEN: Well, it's just a different sort of science. You lot, you chose mathematics. Given the right string of numbers, the right equation, you can split the atom. Carrionites use words instead.

In other words, while they probably weren't actually intended as such and may have their own specific meaning, whether they be poetry, namesakes, histories, instructions, whatever... these are basically protective wards:

[ID: Five screenshots of Circular Gallifreyan in New Who.

1. Rassilon's Inner High Council meeting in The End of Time Part 2. The table and headrests are inscribed with circular Gallifreyan.

2. The Moment in Day of the Doctor. Gallifreyan writing bends round the edges of the wooden frame.

3. The 'whirligig' rotar in Eleven's second TARDIS, inscribed with individual Gallifreyan symbols.

4. Set photo of the glowing Gallifreyan writing on the steps of Thirteen's TARDIS.

5. Tecteun's laboratory in The Timeless Children. Circular Gallifreyan lines the light above her, and a door in the background.]

As a side note - if they actually are kind-of intended as a form of protection, perhaps this is why we were only introduced to Circular Gallifreyan in New Who, despite it seemingly existing through Gallifreyan history. Because it was retroactively inserted into Gallifreyan culture as a form of defense during the War in Heaven / Last Great Time War?

Regardless, this also opens up questions how many other Time Lord traditions are holdovers from the Dark Times.

For example, who's to say that the renegade naming tradition didn't begin as a form of protection from hexes - either from hostile forces in the pre-anchoring universe, or from oppressive magic-users back on the homeworld? This may also be connected to the change in Gallifreyan name format before and after the Intuitive Revelation (eg. ancestral -sti and -sor names), though shifting power structures, gender roles etc. presumably played a role too.

Heck, is this one reason why Gallifrey's own name has changed over its history? From Jewel to Gallifrey in Rassilon's time to try and protect it from vengeful Pythian curses. From Gallifrey to just 'the Homeworld' in the War to protect it from new rituals of alternative histories and paradox?

#Doctor Who #Gallifrey #Gallifreyan #Circular Gallifreyan #The Pythia #DW Theory #DW Meta #Doctor Who EU

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darkwolf989 · 3 months

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Outside the office

Longtime reader and writer. First time poster! Let me know what you think- I have pages of this story to share if there is any interest. <3 Enjoy!

“Vox, these pancakes are the best!”

Another sleepy Sunday morning at home. Or at least, the place I called home these days. My arrival to hell six years ago had left me uneasy- displaced from the only world I had ever known. Upon my arrival, Lucifer immediately deposited me in one of the biggest power circles in Hell. With a kiss on the cheek and a warning to behave- lest I end up like my mother and father- he disappeared, off to running hell or heaven- I honestly wasn’t sure at this point.

“Not better than mine though, right Princessa?” Valentino’s voice rang with teasing disapproval.

I caught his eye and grinned. “I don’t know. Last I checked you didn’t put strawberries AND chocolate chips in your pancakes.”

“Take that!” Vox semi shouted. “Even your wife agrees I’m the better cook!”

Lighthearted bickering broke out between the two of them. I caught the eye of Velvette, the only other girl in our group and she rolled her eyes, as amused as I was.

I wouldn't have guessed when I first arrived in hell that these three demons would eventually be the family I had left behind. Upon my arrival in hell, Lucifer warned that that these demons were three of the most powerful overlords in this ring of hell. Coming from a world where demons were slaughtered on sight- and the opposite held true for angels- meeting a demon off the battlefield for the first time took every inch of my self control to not allow the instincts I worked so hard to develop to overtake me.

When I first met Vox, I was taken aback. For a demon, he was surprisingly friendly. According to Lucifer, he controlled the television airwaves and heavily utilized video and electricity to exert control over a host of sinners. Walking into his studio for the first time felt like stepping into energy territory- at least until the demon spoke.

“First time meeting a demon?” Vox seemed amused. “Nothing to be afraid of, I assure you. At least, not for you Princess.” He extended his hand and I shook it out of politeness. His twisted smile grew wider, revealing a set of sharp teeth. “Don’t worry your highness, we will take excellent care of her.”

Lucifer looked unconcerned. “You know the consequences if you don’t.” His phone rang and he looked at the caller ID. “Sorry to rush out on you, but I have a meeting to get to. Ensure you follow through on your end of the bargain.” His eyes flashed red, a non verbal “or else”.

“Of course,” Vox replied smoothly. “We have her living quarters all set up- she’s welcome to settle in after I give her the grand tour. And don’t worry- our resident fashionista will help her…blend in.” He reached out as if to push my hair to the side but stopped himself. “She’s in excellent hands, your highness.”

Lucifer looked unconcerned. A cold fear settled in my gut, followed by anger. He was leaving me? In the hands of this…creature?

“See you later darling. Enjoy all Hell has to offer.” He leaned over and kissed my cheek before he vanished, leaving me in the sole company of the TV demon.

“Before we go any further, I need your phone.” Vox reached his hand out.

I hesitated but pulled my pink flip phone out of my pocket and handed it to him. He dropped it on the ground and crushed it beneth his foot.

“Hey! Why did you do that?” I demanded.

“That technology? Ancient and easy to hack. Here. I preloaded Lucifers number, our numbers and that’s honestly the only contacts you need. Not only that, its the latest model. The public won’t have access to it until next month.” He handed me a rectangular shaped phone.

“And this.” he handed me a matching pink watch. “Don’t take it off. It allowed me to know your vitals and your location at all times. If something was to happen to you, we could easily get to you.”

Wouldn’t that be the first thing they took off? I wondered but didn’t say it. Vox hit a few buttons and showed me how to unlock it just by looking at the screen. After a few minutes of playing with it, I started to grasp the concept.

“Lucifer wasn’t lying when he said you were smart. Come. Follow me.”

Vox turned to walk away and I trailed behind him.

“Well, might as well show you around. Couple things to be aware of. Obviously as Princess of Hell you can do as you please but know that Valentino's studio, Velvette’s runway and my office are strictly for business. Enter at the wrong time and you may end up seeing things that…you’re not quite used to.”

He pressed a button and an elevator door slid open. I stepped inside and I followed, standing quietly next to him. The sense of unease hadn’t left me since the moment I arrived in hell and the further into the building I ventured the deeper that fear became.

“First floor is the entry. Second is my office and studio. Third and fourth belong to Val’s workspace and the fifth floor belongs to Velvette. The Sixth floor is our living space- that’s where you’ll be joining us. Your quarters are up there as well. Living room and kitchen are shared spaces, though we all value the privacy of our own bedrooms.” He smiled a bit darkly. “You’re welcome to join us for movie night.”

Since when did demons watch movies?

The elevator dinged to three and I stepped out behind him. The scene infront of us was pure chaos. Demons in various shapes, forms and stages of dress hustled around the open room. Clothes and racks were scattered about, being tossed aside and rehung quicker that I thought possible. Against a white backdrop, three models stood as lightbulbs went off around them.

Unlike Vox with his TV shaped head, the demon in charge looked relatively human. Her purple, red and black hair was pulled up high in two ponytails- teased and curled to perfection. Her clothes boated the same color scheme as her hair, and she wore impossibly high black heels. It took me a moment to realize her color scheme was the same as Vox’s.

I watched her bark orders in a way that would have made my father proud. As she spoke, her perfectly manicured fingers flew across the keyboard of her phone. I felt myself flush, suddenly overly aware of my own broken fingernails and very clear out of fashion clothing.

Vox seemed undisturbed by the hustle, walking through it with ease.“Velvettle darling, meet the Princess.”

She looked up for a moment and her expression twisted in what looked like annoyance.

“You got a name, Princess?”

They both looked at me expectantly. I felt my face flush with embarrassment. Had Lucifer really dropped me off to total strangers without so much as sharing my name?

“My name is reader.” I answered with a steadiness I didn’t quite feel in my gut. “Morningstar.”

“Well, reader, if this is how heaven is dressing these days you need more help than I thought.” She snorted in contempt. “Don’t worry love, we’ll get you fixed up in no time. After all, if you’re spending time with us you need to look the part.”

Vox grinned. “Have fun you two. Vel, be a dear and bring her upstairs when you’re done.”

She turned away. “Yeah, yeah. You don’t need to tell me what to do.” She snapped her fingers. “Get to it.”

Without another word I was whisked away into another room. Any sense of modesty vanished as Velvette's team inspected every inch of my body. Unlike the angels, they had no shame in ensuring I was plucked, waxed, and trimmed to Velvette’s desire. With all the strange hands touching me I felt trapped, and did my best to disassociate. I had to if I wanted to survive down here. Wasn’t that my fathers first rule? Show no fear.

Velvette must have noticed my discomfort. After the waxing she shooed everyone away for a moment and handed me a bottle of water.

“Don’t worry love, you’ll get used to it. Quicker, actually if you’re here with us.”

I held the bottle and she rolled her eyes, reaching over and twisting the cap open. “No one here will hurt you. Outside of Lucifer’s domain, this is the safest place in all of hell for you. Promise. Now drink- I don’t want to be on the receiving end of Lucifer’s wrath if you fall ill on the first day.”

I took a sip and she turned the chair I was in towards the mirror, running her fingers through my blonde hair. “You need some deep conditioning, a style and a few highlights, but your overall color is fantastic. You have a lovely shape- for a half angel. And those eyes…” She stepped around and cupped my chin. “Lovely. No one in hell has blue eyes like those.”

“Thank you.” I replied softly.

Velvette grinned. “Well look, the princess speaks! Look, let’s finish up here and get your wardrobe set up and sent up. Val is taking us out tonight, and you need to look the part. It would be an embarrassment to our brand otherwise.” She snapped her fingers and a team of demons hurried over.

“Who is Val?” I asked as she leaned back against the counter, watching her employees work.

“Valentino. You’ll meet him soon enough. Right pain in the ass he is. Love him though.”

Right. Lucifer warned me about him. Valentino controlled the porn industry in the same way Vox controlled the broadcasts and Velvette controlled fashion and social media. I couldn’t even imagine what my father would think if he knew...I pushed the thought from my head. My father was gone. This was my reality now.

“And you three- Vox, Velvette, Valentino- you’re…royalty?” I asked to fill the silence.

She laughed. “Royalty? Not far off. We’re overlords. We own millions of souls between the three of us.”

That nervous feeling rekindled in my stomach. “You own souls? What does that mean?”

Velvette shrugged. “It means mortals in the human realm, or sinners down here made a deal with us in exchange for their souls. And we collected.”

If there wasn’t a pair of scissors next to my ear I would have jumped away. Owning souls? How did that even happen? Moreso that went against everything an angel stood for. Or at least, everything my angelic half used to stand for.

“Oh relax, your soul is safe.” Velvette snorted at my expression. “Lucifer would kill anyone who even attempted to make a move on your eternal being. Trust me dear, you have nothing to worry about. At least, not from us.”

Across the studio, someone yelled her name and she pranced off without so much as a goodbye.

What felt like an eternity later, I was led to the elevator by Velvette. My blonde hair had indeed been trimmed and highlighted, blown out and teased. My broken fingernails were hidden under tiny plastic red surfboards and my normally bare face was covered in makeup.

“Just come down to my studio each morning. I’ll get you dressed and done up. Nothing to worry about.” Velvette assured me as we stepped out of the elevator.

I wasn’t quite sure what to expect when I tried to imagine where demons lived, but the room I stepped into was the exact opposite of anything I could have dreamed up. Dark hardwood floors were covered with plush rugs in deep blues, blacks and reds. Couches on the left were placed in a U shape in front of a large TV and to the right was a full kitchen.Towering floor to ceiling windows covered the far wall and a table with six office chairs sat in front of it. Towards the left there were five hallways and small alcoves scattered throughout the room hosted signs of the floor's inhabitants. Photos of the V’s, computer setups, a notebook with scribbles and swatches of fabric, to name a few items.

“You’re the fifth hallway down,” Velvette said, leading me towards the left. “If you get lost, look up. They’re labeled.”

I looked up towards the doorway entrance of each and sure enough, the names Valentino, Vox, blank, Velvette and Princess were labeled.

“Why is mine labeled Princess?” I asked as she led me down that hallway. “You couldn’t have had that much time to design.”

Velvette laughed. “Took hardly anytime at all. The boss man sent us a list and cash- we obliged. Your comfort here is of upmost importance.” She pushed open a second door and stepped inside.

I expected dark colors, blacks and reds but to my surprise the room was decorated in a sea of purples, grays and whites. A bed took up the center of the room and off to the left was a small living room area- complete with matching couches and a television. A desk with a pink computer set up sat to the right of the bed. The three doors on the remaining walls led to the walk in closet and bathroom, Velvette explained.

“Anything else you need? Kitchen is stocked. If you need something, write it on the whiteboard on the fridge. Housekeeping will bring it up.” Velvette continued. “Same with bathroom products or anything really. We want to make sure you’re happy. Oh!” She snapped her fingers and pushed open one of the doors. “Your public clothes are in my studio- along with everyone else’s. Except mine, of course. I dress myself. But in our space comfort is important. I personally chose the loungewear in your closet. Not that you can leave the building but when you’re ready to get dressed in the morning, come down to my studio and we’ll get you taken care of.” Her eyes narrowed. “Loungewear shouldn’t be seen anywhere except up here and my studio. Understood?”

“Yes, thank you. This is lovely.” Lovely was an understatement. This place was a place compared to my fathers house.

Velvette shrugged. “Just want to make sure you feel at home Princess. Come now, I’m sure Val and Vox are ready to go.”

“Go where, again?” I asked, following her back down the hallway and to the elevator.

She hit the button and stepped in. “Dinner. I’m starved, I can’t believe you’re not. And Val always picks the best places.”

Lucifer hadn’t said anything about the food down here. I wondered what exactly demons ate and a shiver ran up my spine. Babies, probably. Or corpses. Maybe small animals? The phone in my pocket vibrated and I opened up the text just as the elevator door opened. I followed Velvette into the lobby I had entered earlier, keeping my eyes on my phone.

“Settling in alright love?” The sender name read “Uncle Lucy”.

Cute. He was as much of an Uncle to me as Vox was my boyfriend. Still, maybe he could answer my questions. What do demons eat? I typed back furiously.

Three little dots appeared at the bottom of my screen and his answer popped up.

Depends. Is Valentino choosing the place? Or Vox?

Valentino, I typed back.

Three little dots and then, Steak most likely. Velvette dressed you?

I stared at the phone and typed back. Steak? Made of what, exactly?

What is steak made of in the angelic realm? Cow?

I scowled at the phone. I thought demons ate babies. And each other.

His response was instantaneous. LOL. Oh my sweet, that is something I would have warned you about. Everything you eat and drink is safe as long as you’re with the V’s or myself.

Okay, I typed back.

Be safe love. And stick close to the V’s while you’re out. This scene is much, much more different than you’re used to.

I wanted to snap my phone shut but instead the screen went black. I sort of missed it- snapping a phone shut at the end of a call was incredibly sadifying.

“Ah, so you must be the princessa”

His low drawl pulled me from my thoughts and I looked up to see the red eyes of a demon I hadn’t met yet. Involuntarily, I took a step back.

“Pleasure to meet you sweetheart.” His smile, much like the others revealed a set of sharp teeth. He stood tall, taller than even my father with a thin frame. His eyes were hidden behind a pair of heart shaped glasses. Hearts adorned the red jacket he wore, and white fluff surrounded the edges and the trim. Under he wore what looked like a black suit. He reached out and took my hand, kissing it.

“Nice to meet you too.” I tried to hide my fear, the internal screaming to run.

He grinned wider. “Nothing to be afraid of mi amor. You’re safe as long as you stay with us. Come now. We don’t want to be late.”

I hesitated. “Are you sure this is safe?”

“Don’t wander out of our sight, and you won’t have to worry about it, yeah?” Velvette replied impatiently.

Vox leaned over and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Right as usual dear.” He turned towards the entryway door, holding it open. Velvette passed through, then me, then Vox and finally Valentino.

A deep red limo was waiting at the curb for us. Vox got in first, then Velvette. I stepped back in hesitation but a firm hand touched the small of my back.

“After you dear. “ Valentino bent down and whispered. “Be between us, always. It’s not safe to wander these streets.”

At his touch, I practically jumped in and chose a seat far away from the others, taking a deep breath. I watched the dynamic in front of me unfold. Vox, between Velvette and Valentino, looked completely comfortable, chatting about what I assumed was their work. Across the limo, Valentino shot me a grin.

“So princessa, what brings you to hell?” He asked.

Vox and Velvette fell silent, their attention turned to me.

“My father ordered me here.” I responded, cheeks flushing.

From the pocket of his coat, Valentino pulled out a long cigarette and took and draw, exhaling clouds of red smoke.

“Ah. The infamous demon killer. The hypocrite who consorted with the former princess of hell and created you. Tell me, Princess. Why does he want you here after all this time? After all you are…how old?”

I felt my temper flare, but bit it back. His words wern’t exactly unture, but I didn’t like thinking about it. “I’m twenty five.” I said through gritted teeth.

He considered this for a moment, taking another drag. “Twenty five. That’s a long time to live away from half of yourself.”

“Val.” Vox interjected in a warning tone. One of his red eyes began to swirl. “Enough with the questions. We’re thrilled to have her here.”

“Of course we are.” He smiled. “Just making conversation, wondering why now, after all this time we’ve decided to…ah, explore ourselves.”

“I go where I am told.” I retorted.

His grin became wider. “Always?”

Thankfully at that moment the limo stopped and the door opened. This time, Valentino stepped out first. Vox gestured to me and I followed him out. The building in front of us was small, and brightly lit. I followed Valentino inside, Vox close behind me.

The inside looked like a normal restaurant. We were seated immediately in a back room, and with the exception of the fact that the waiters looked like different demons, it seemed no different than someplace I would have dined at back home.

Valentino ordered for the table and in moments I was presented with dinner. I studied it while the others dug in. Lucifer was probably right. What was on my plate looked like steak, definitely smelled like it too. Lucifer told me it was safe to eat. And truth be told- I was starving. I took a tiny bite, relieved that my dinner partners didn’t seem to pay much attention to me. It tasted fine, but I couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that washed over me. I took a few more bites, then set my fork down. I just couldn’t shake my nerves.

“That was great Val,” Vox leaned back in his chair. “What do you say we call it a night and head back?”

“Lame.” Velvette snorted. “The world needs to see the outfits I worked so hard to design. These nightly outings are not just for Val you know.”

Valentino took a long drag of his ciggarette and exhaled a trail of red smoke, looking at me and grinning. “Besides, we need to show the angel what a good time in hell looks like.” He stood up, and the others followed en-suite. Vox stepped aside, ensuring he was behind me as I followed them back to the limo.

“Have you ever drank alcohol before, babe?” Valentino asked, stretching his arms out on the seat behind me. He didn’t make physicl contact, but he was close enough to make me uneasy.

“Of course. I can go shot for shot with the most hardened angels.” I said defensively.

“Huh. Didn’t know angels drank.” Vox interjected thoughtfully as the limo pulled up to the next location. “Well good- then this should be a fun night.”

The number 666 flashed in purple above the building. I hesitated. It looked like a club, and that wasn’t a scene I was allowed to explore. Behind me, Vox gave me a gentle nudge and with no other choice, I trailed behind Valentino as he bypassed the impossibly long line. As we crossed the dance floor, demons skittered out of his way.

“It’s my club,” he said loudly as he led us to the back, half circle table. “Anything you need babe, its all yours.”

I slid in with Vox on one side and Velvette on the other. Instantly a demon appeared with four drinks, setting them on the table in front of us.

“Just stick within eyesight of us and you’ll be fine.” Vox assured me.

“Cheers.” Valentino raised his glass to me. “To your visit to hell.”

I took a sip. It was absolutely intoxicating and before I knew it, all four glasses were empty. Another round appeared instantly. Relief from my terror washed over me and I lost count after the second drink. Flashes of the dance floor, Velvette spinning me around. Shots handed to me by Vox and the four of us slamming them down.

The room spun but the feeling of freedom and liberation wrapped around me like a star dusted blanket. As time passed, I somehow I found myself across the dance floor, far out of sight of my keepers.

“To you, pretty lady.” A shark-like demon looked me up and down, and handed me a pink and fuzzy drink.

Too drunk to remember to not, I took the drink with a smile and downed it in one gulp. The shark demon laughed and took a step forward.

“Now, how will you show your appreciation pretty thing?” he reached out and touched my shoulder.

I flinched, and tried to take a step back but stumbled, trying to look back for any of the V’s. Fuck, this wasn’t good.

“There you are, princessa.” Valentino’s sharp voice floated behind me. “Looks like you can’t keep up with demons after all.”

The shark demon paled and I couldn’t see if he left or not. I felt Valentino’s arm slide under mine as he guided me back to his table. My body, no longer in control of itself, leaned into his red jacket, my head resting its full weight on his shoulder.

“Jesus Val, how much did you give her?”

Could have been Vox or Velvette who asked. I couldn’t tell. I felt claws cup my chin and force my head up. Valentino’s eyes met mine and he sighed, letting my head fall against him.

“Apparently, the princessa didn’t watch her drinks closely enough. Vox, take this please.”

I caught sight of Valentino standing up and Vox took his place, guiding my head to his shoulder. The room felt loud, and somewhere in the distance, I could have sworn I heard a gunshot.

“Hey hey, stay awake until Val gets back.” Vox shook my shoulder. “Ah shit. Lucifer’s going to be pissed.”

I wasn’t quite sure how I ended up with my head on Valentino’s lap, or how I was totally fine with him stroking my hair.

“Shits just got to work it's way out of her system,” I heard him explain. “Time is the only cure.”

I tried to lift my head but found it too heavy for more than a few inches. Valentino’s hand pushed it back down.

“It’s my fault.” I whispered. “I drank too much, too fast. I took a drink from an…I don’t know what, drinks aren’t spiked in heaven!”

I heard the three of them laugh.

“Sounds like you need a lesson in club safety love.” Velvette looked up from her phone.

“Maybe we don’t tell Uncle Lucy. Let’s keep this between us?” I mumbled and shifted my body ever so slightly.

Valentino rolled me back on my side, “If you say so, dear.”

I felt the limo stop and tried my best to sit up. After a few seconds of letting me struggle, Valentino lifted me up and out of the limo.

“I can walk.” I said protested blearily.

“Oh, you can?”

Valentino set me down and I immediately pitched forward. He caught me with ease and back in his arms I went. I closed my eyes .

The next thing I knew I was curled up on my side with sunlight streaming into my eyes. With a groan, I sat up. My head pounded.

“Rough first night dear?”

I opened my eyes to see Lucifer sitting on a chair next to my bed, punching away on his phone. I looked down at myself. Gone were my club clothes from last night, replaced with a pair of soft purple pajamas. I wondered briefly how I had managed to get myself changed so neatly.

“It wasn’t their fault.” I answered after a few seconds. “Ugh, my head.”

He seemed unperturbed. “I’m well aware. Free choice and all that- I invented it, remember? Can’t hold them accountable- you chose to accept a drink from a stranger and well, Valentino himself held the stranger accountable.”

“Fuck me. So…what are the consequences?” I mumbled, leaning forward and covering my head with my hands.

Lucifer paused. “Consequences? Isn’t being rendered totally unable to protect yourself your first night in hell enough? I’m not your father, dear.” He stood up. “What I can tell you is the cameras show half your bad decisions last night were due to drinking on an empty tummy. Can you explain why that is?”

I didn’t answer. He walked over and lifted my chin so our eyes met. “If you don’t trust the four of us, you won’t make it down here. You have to eat. And drink. Same as you did up there.”

I nodded and he sighed and sat down next to me. “I’m aware this is difficult- it’s new, and your father and I have torn you away to this place that is the opposite of everything you’ve ever known. But despite all of heaven's propaganda, there is good down here too. You just have to be more careful.”

“Yes, Lucifer.”

He broke out into a grin. “I think I prefer Uncle Lucy. Has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”

I didn’t answer, embarrassment joining the pain I felt.

He patted my leg. “The good news is, you’re only suffering from a hangover. Unfortunately for you the cure is the same in heaven and hell. Hydration, food, anti inflammatories and rest.”

He stood up and his phone rang. His voice changed from sweet to sharp and several harsh words later, he hung up.

“I need to go. Chances are you’ll be back out on the club scene tonight. Let’s hope you’ve learned your lesson- stick close to the V’s. And listen to them. I made it clear that they can tell you what to do. Your responsibility is to follow through. Understood?”

I nodded and he touched the top of my head with a knowing smile. Instantly, my headache vanished.

“Hot shower. Water. Food. It won’t stay away if you don’t give your body those things. I’ll touch base with you later, love.”

He vanished a second later. I stared at the blank space and wondered if he was the only one down here who could do that. I pushed the thought from my head and willed myself out of bed. Lucifer may have made the headache vanish, but the body aches remained. I made my way into the bathroom.

The shower alone was the size of my room at home and it took me a good fifteen minutes to find a simple water pressure setting. I let myself sink into the steam and scrubbed clean every inch of my body. Finally, I stepped out and wrapped myself in an oversized towel. Standing in front of the mirror I studied my reflection as I towel dried my hair. Without Velvette’s make up, I looked like my usual self.

The door creaked open and I scrambled for another towel.

“Hello! No thank you!”

“What? Its not like we didn’t see everything last night,” Vox’s voice answered as he stepped in, closing the door behind him. “How do you think you ended up in those pajamas?”

“It doesn’t matter,” I hissed, covering myself quickly.

He laughed “modesty is overrated. Down here, you’ll learn that soon enough. Look, I know Lucifer told you but Val made breakfast before he had to rush off to work. It’s in your best interest to eat something before that headache he cured comes rushing back. Oh, and drink this.” He set a bottle of bright orange liquid down on the counter. “Courtesy of the brilliant minds of Vee and Val. It’ll help I promise.”

He turned to walk out, the paused. “I’m the last one to leave, which means you have the living room to yourself. Do as you wish as long as you take care of yourself. Don’t try to leave the building, and while you can visit my workspace or Vel’s, I’d suggest steering clear of Val. After last night, he’s in a pretty pissy mood.”

I must have looked mortified because Vox laughed. “Not at you dear. Others that didn’t do their jobs. Still, his temper is a nasty one. I’d recommend avoiding it at all costs.”

“Noted.” I said shakily.

“Oh, Princess? Just a reminder. Floors two and five are where you want to go for Vel and I.”

And with that he walked out. I took a sip of the drink he left and quickly swallowed the rest. To his credit, he was right- I felt much better almost instantly. I wrapped my hair up and from the vast closet I pulled a pair of soft blue pajamas and matching slippers. I made my way out to the shared kitchen and found a heart shaped sticky note on the table next to another bottle of the orange liquid.

Breakfast is in the fridge. Drink this after. If you have a hard time with the TV, text Vox. He’ll get you set up.

-VVV

I opened the fridge and another heart shaped pink sticky note greeted me.

“Eat every bite. If cold, microwave ten seconds.”

I uncovered the plate, hoping it was something normal. Something I could eat. Something that wouldn’t inadvertently turn my stomach. And to my delight, I found what looked to be two homemade strawberry waffles. I put them in the microwave and sat down at the table, taking a bite.

It was the yummiest thing I had ever tasted.

I finished the entire thing in record time and, taking the bottle of orange drink, I made myself comfortable on the couch. Although the headache was gone, my entire body felt achy- like I was getting over the flu. I flipped mindlessly through the channels as I finished the drink. Sleepiness washed over me and I felt myself start to drift.

The quiet ping of the elevator arriving startled me back awake.

“I see we’re alive.” Velvette saunted across the floor and hung over the back of the couch. “Feeling alright?”

I pulled myself up right. “Better- what time is it?”

“Time for you to go downstairs and get ready- we have another big night out. This one features the press, so we need time to make you perfect.” she answered. “Throw on a robe and meet me down in ten. Oh, and there's more of that orange drink in the fridge. Can’t hurt to have another bottle. Or at least water.”

She sauntered off and I heard the elevator ping again. In truth, I did feel better- almost like nothing had happened. The aches had almost completely vanished. Back in my room I pulled on a pink fuzzy robe and made my way down the stairs.

Velvette greeted me with a wave and upon my entrance, a horde of demons descended on me. The process didn’t take nearly as long as it had the day before, and by the time Velvette walked up to me the finishing touches were being put onto my makeup.

“You look great. Much better than you did this morning. Come on now, we have to meet Val and Vox out. You slept longer than we guessed- not that its a big deal. But come on, the car is waiting.”

I followed her out the door and listened to her chatter away while she typed. I checked my phone and saw I had a few missed texts. One from Lucifer, checking in. That was easy, I shot him a quick I’m fine. The second one from Vox- again, asking me how I was, followed by a text informing me he confirmed on the camera I wasn’t dead- and he would see me later. The last text was from Valentino.

Glad to hear you liked breakfast. Hope you enjoy dinner- let’s not have a repeat of last night, shall we? -Val

“Valentino is a little scary.” I said out loud.

Velvette looked up at me and laughed. “He’s only scary if you’re on his bad side- and if you’re worthless to him. Trust me babe, you have no reason to be afraid of him. Not after last night.”

“What was so different about last night?” I asked curiously.

She barked a laugh. “Vox is the one with a soft side. Valentino? He leaves drunk bitches in the ditch- he doesn’t lay them on his lap and he certainly doesn’t kill for them.”

“He’s just afraid, because of who Lucifer is.” I replied uneasily.

She shrugged. “Could be. Wouldn’t test it though. He can be nasty.”

The porn demon- nasty? That was probably the most mild of terms I could think of. More questions bubbled in my mind. How did they come to own souls? What other lies had heaven fed me- lies I considered to be true? I sat in silence, trying to bring up the courage to ask Velvette myself. I had just about convinced myself to do it when the limo stopped.

I followed Velvette outside and she marched in the door like she owned the place. Once again, we were whisked to the back of what looked like a normal restaurant. In minutes, dinner was in front of us. I looked down at the pasta dish in front of me and spun my fork in it. It looked normal- and it smelled fantastic. Cautiously, I took a bite as I listened to Vox complain about technology and a newscaster who ticked him off. Velvette responded by suggesting the use of one of her top models. Valentino was strangely silent, watching as I carefully took another bite.

“Look at that, already taking a step in the right direction.” He winked at me. “Not up for a repeat of last night, mi amor?”

I felt my cheeks flush red and his grin grew wider. “Good to see you enjoying your food, princessa.” He turned to Vox casually. “Just put something inside them. That’s how I get the bitches to behave.”

What did that mean? I wondered. After a few minutes, my plate was empty and Valentino stood up.

“Shall we? I have another busy night.” he announced. We followed ensuite back out to the limo. I waited behind Valentino, placed carefully between him and Velvette.

Valentino paused and took a step back. “After you, princessa.”

“Thanks.” I stepped inside and took my usual place against the far wall. Unlike last night, Valentino sat next to me, keeping a much shorter but still respectful distance. I felt a shiver go up my spine and a strange feeling in my belly as I listened to him chat with Velvette and Vox.

The ride to the club felt shorter than the night before. The shock of the club scene had dissipated and I followed close behind Valentino. Tonight it felt less like walking into a war zone. Not only did everyone make way for Valentino, everyone made space for me. Back in the same booth I made sure to sip my drink when it came, less I end up as much of a mess as I did the night before.

With sober eyes I watched the scene unfold. Valentino seemed to know everyone, and those he didn’t know Vox or Vel did. Frequently two left the table, leaving one behind. Visitors came up- demon men and women. Val either invited them for a drink or dismissed them with a wave of his hand. At one point he got up and disappeared into the back of the club, reemerging several hours later with a grin on his face.

“Shall we dance mi corazon?” He asked, extending his hand.

I hesitated and he leaned forward. “I won’t let anything happen to you, princessa. Come.”

I took his hand and he led me to the dance floor. Not to my suprise, he took the lead. I surrendered myself to him and the beat of the music as he spun and swung me around. I lost track of time under the flashing lights and it wasn’t until he slipped his arm under me and led me back to the table that I realized how long we had been away from the table.

He grabbed a nearby waiter and pointed to me. “Water for this one.” he turned to me. “I’ll be back princessa- stay here. And drink water.”

I watched him vanish across the dancefloor and sipped at the water the waiter brought me. After that was finished, I ordered a redbull and vodka- hoping it would give me the energy I needed to stay awake. As the minutes passed and my soberness disappeared, the demons on the dancefloor seemed to swim and I wondered how I had managed to stay afloat as long as I had the night before. A sudden rush of tiredness washed over me and I turned to Vox, who was lounging casually next to me

“When is the last call?”

“When Valentino says it is.” he responded carelessly.

Great. I swapped from vodka back to water and watched as Velvette and Vox took turns out the floor. Several times I trailed after Vox for a song or two, but he ensured I was safely back at the table before either going back out or swapping places with Velvette. After a few rounds of this, I switched back to vodka, which allowed me to relax for the first time since my arrival.

After some time passed Valentino returned, looking as pleased as ever.

“Last call for us darlings,” he purred, offering his hand to me. Vox did the same to Velvette and together the four of us walked out of the bar.

Though not nearly as bad as I had been, Velvette had the busy night and she spent the ride pressed into Vox. Valentino got himself comfortable and looked at me.

“You alright baby doll? You’re quiet.” he moved his body closer to mine and his arm fell against my shoulder as he took another drag from his cigarette, exhaling a stream of red smoke. “Tired?”

I nodded and he pulled me to his side. “Lay your head down baby- I think we passed the awkward phase last night hm?”

My head buzzed just enough that I could forget that he was a demon and that I should be terrified of him. My head fell against his shoulder and he ran a hand through my hair.

“That’s it sweetheart. Nothing to be afraid of.” he cooed as he exhaled another trail of red smoke. “Close your eyes.”

Against my instinct, I felt my eyelids grow heavy and the weight of my head fell onto his shoulder. He shifted my body and wrapped an arm around my waist. I tried to fight sleep as my head fell to his chest, against the steady beating of his heart. He was relaxed, so why wasn’t I?

I woke up as we pulled up to the VVV tower. Velvette, having solidly fallen asleep on Vox was carried up to the elevator first. Valentino offered his hand as I stepped out of the limo. He kept a steady arm around me as we walked towards the elevator.

“You have nothing to fear, mi amor.” he purred. “We are not the monsters you think that we are.”

The last thing I remembered was being tucked into my bed and a soft hand pushing the hair out of my eyes.

#valentino x reader #the vees #vox x reader #valentino x you #valentino x wife

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choso-uncertain · 1 month

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Rich boy Choso

Warning: Bsdm, slight voyuerism, rough sex, being a rich man, spoiling, lots of wax play, dining sex?

.Rich boy Choso; you never asked him for a thing, in fact you try not to ask him for anything too expensive. But, Choso wouldn’t be having it and old buy whatever he deemed necessary. Cute dresses, expensive makeup, shoes, and even sex toys. He didn’t car, he would buy it if your eyes even glanced at it. The next day you woke up with it beside you with a loving text message or even a letter.

.Rich boy Choso; it was indeed ‘daddies money’, when it came to you. After all, he is your daddy right? At least that’s his name in your phone, ‘Daddy’ was the caller ID whenever your phone rang. The goofy ass hearts on either side, which secured you weren’t calling your father… He would call you and ask you small questions like, ‘Hey, I’m out at the gucci store. I saw a cute dress that you would like, it’s your favorite color and all… I’m buying, so when you get home, I can watch you put it on and take it off for me in the same night.’ Or ‘I found some wax that smells really good, it would go great on your skin. I’d love to watch it burn you in the best way~’

.Rich boy Choso; It wasn’t just about the money. Oh no, a rich man came with a wealthy kink of bdsm. Tied down in nice ropes he bought with only the finest materials, wax pooled in the middle of your back and thighs. Pussy quivering from the light fingering he did as he poured the wax down on you.

.Rich boy Choso; who bought the finest leather gloves to spank you with. It left you with light bruising and a drenched middle. He bought you a beautiful diamond encrusted necklace that came paired with a nice leash that he walked you around the room with as he praised you for being such a good girl.

.Rich boy Choso; who sat you down in the living room as many butlers came in and showed you different necklaces and jewels. The ones you turned your nose to, he’d simply tell them that it wasn’t up to, ‘his pets likings.’ He’d have a ball showing you out in different dresses and jewels. The ones he liked, he’d dick you down in and bought another. The jewels he liked, were used as a leash that he pulled as he gave you backshots. If they broke, he’d put another on you and continue what he was doing.

.Rich boy Choso; who’d finger you to the high heavens as you moaned and cried for him to keep going. After a long day of drinking and smiling in front of others, now you were on your way home with his hands between your thighs making Lucious noises that made him hard. Once you arrived home, the chauffeur knew best not to open the door for absolutely no reasons. For he’d get a sight of the lady of the house being bent over the seat, ass bruised and cunt shoved full of dick. Wet noises a puddle underneath her from the millions of times she’s came underneath him. Some of the wetness trickling down her stomach to her beast.

.Rich boy Choso; who’d lay you over the dinning table full of fruit, sweets and candles; licking and lapping at your cunt like a dog in heat. Once you’ve came for the second time, he’d grab a candle and run the wax from your pearl decorated neck to your stomach, pulling soft and tight moans from your throat. He loved to watch your expression change as he raised your candle waxed thighs and rub himself against your cunt.

.Rich boy Choso; bought a house by the beach to mercilessly destroy you in. Tied down to the bed, spanking your thighs and whispering to you about how good of a girl you were and how good you made him feel. He’d blind fold you and began pouring warm liquids on your sensitive skin. Moaning and trying to get away from the feeling, only made him giggle. ‘Are you trying to run from me? Silly girl, what’s your purpose of running, when there’s no where to run?”.Rich boy Choso; “what do you want?” That was the question of the day when it came to food. You tried to hide it, but he would always get to you. “Cheese… fries…” he looked at you and smiled, “You got wax on your ass and sure.”

Someone requested this but tumblr is not wanting to work, so here’s another Choso fix, it’s a bit shorttt. Thank you for enjoying the last one and if any writers have the time to help, constructive feedback would be welcomed! Thank you guys and I bid thy Jjk simps and good night and you Choso girlies, a cold pillow and a soft blanket.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk fanfic #choso x reader #choso smut #choso x female reader #choso my beloved #jujutsu kaisen x reader #smut

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balteredsworld · 2 days

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cha cha chase, gregory house

🥼🩺 | house finds out you're a dancer.

tags! house being house, fluff of sorts? house x reader def

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"aww that's cute," house tilted his head in amusement, eyes twinkling with signature mischief. you were going to hate this. in fact, you were already dreading it. "we can all give foreman a lap dance."

you rolled your eyes, prepping your dearest ex-friend's arm for a transfusion. "did you have to say all that?"

"what? people should know you were a dancer, especially with a boss like that," she sweetly and very innocently shrugged, before looking at house with pride. "she's got killer mo—"

"—alright!" you jammed the needle roughly, shutting her up. "you'll fall asleep in right about... now."

she dozed off, but not before catching you with a triumphant frown about your lips. oh you were pissed, at least she didn't need to deal with it until after the treatment.

you would've cooled down by then. but you were also in trouble. why? because of that stupid grin house had on his stupid face.

"so you used to dance."

"and you used to walk."

"ouch. low blow!"

"i can blow even lower." the words left your mouth sooner than you could think.

"you definitely have the knees for it," house chuckled, practically looking up into heaven with an extremely exaggerated grateful look.

"shut up. don't ask."

his brows shot up, face contorting a theatrical face of an innocent. "how could you assume the worst in me!"

"my bad," you deadpanned. "i think it's just your track record with insanely inappropriate jokes."

you slipped swiftly out of the room, keen to get house off of your hair. but for a cripple, he was insanely fast. this man could do more than he let out, but that was only to make people like yourself, his victim-of-the-day fellow, miserable.

house was a smart man, but his aptitude was used for the worst. nothing was a viable escape, he was going to hold this over you until the day you die.

"i ask first," he snarked, making a gesture with his finger. "uhm, i have something inappropriate to say. can i say it?"

you glared at him over your shoulder. he was hot on your trail. if only you could get to the flight of stairs quicker.

he blinked all cutesy, innocently batting his lashes as you two turned the corner. "were you a stripper?"

you threw your head back, eyes rolling back to the point it felt like someone was gauging them out. house looked excited at the prospect. even if you weren't, close enough.

finally, you turn to him with an unimpressed purse about your lips and an angry furrow to your brows. house towered over you, all but amused at your well invited and justified anger. he thought it was cute.

"so?" he cocked a brow, still twinkling in mischief.

"answer's no," you half-calmly answered, titling your head, formulating a wicked idea.

you grabbed house's wrinkled collar, standing on your tip toes, snaking your hand on his shoulders.

"but i am a dancer," you whispered, mustering a sickeningly sweet voice. you trailed your fingers along his neck, letting your breath fan his ear as you crooned your head slightly, just as how you would with your dance partner.

some part of you had a daring inkling to knock his cane over, still unnerved over his shenanigans that last christmas he duped you into getting him a pricey gift.

fortunately for house, you weren't him.

but you maintained your hold on him, before letting out a hum at the same time you descended back to the soles of your foot. an innocent smile creeping on your lips, lashes batting the same way he'd done seconds ago.

"that's right, dancer..." house trailed, with a gaping mouth, still in a childish drawl.

"doctor, actually. the id says m.d., but thanks," you remarked nonchalantly, whipping away in a spin to dash into your escape. "you hired me remember?"

"because you had nice legs!" house shouted in a last ditch effort to win, seemingly paralyzed on the spot. "and even nicer knees!"

you had outrun him for now, although you knew it wasn't long before he revived into an ever meaner bloom. and you were right to dread it, because hours later, house was sitting with a triumphant smirk about his face. he somehow found a video of you dancing embarrassingly online, no doubt with the help of lucas, and forwarded it to any and all.

that only strengthened your resolve for revenge. house was fucked, but he welcomed your challenge.

who knows? maybe he could just get a lap dance out of it.

#greg house x reader #house md x reader #house md #dr house #gregory house x reader #gregory house fic #gregory house #netflix #hugh laurie #gregory house x you

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chaifootsteps · 2 months

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i had this rough idea of projecting my feelings of "getting sexually assaulted and not realizing it until later" onto sir pentious;

hes talking to emily in heaven, presenting what happened at club consent as a funny story- because i imagine that's how the hotel crew would treat it since "they're in hell!"- but she has this horrified expression on her face once he finishes. then, she finally says, "i'm so sorry, but.. i think you were raped."

and sir pent replies, "what? no! if that happened to me, then my friends, they would've.. they would've told me! they would've helped me.."

as he slowly comes to this realization, emily offers him a hug, and he accepts it, and just holds her tight while he thinks. his hurt, but more so resentment against his "friends" builds, knowing that, thanks to emilys support, his supposed friends could've and should've protected him from what happened. also if angel ever got into heaven then i like to imagine emily would side eye him HARD and be extra protective of sir pent whenever him and AD interact

i might actually make this into something, but i might not. rape/SA is something id love to explore with these characters because of my own past experiences, but after seeing ayy lmao go after a harmless fic made by a survivor who went through the same things that angel does, im hesitant to make the art i truly want to in the hazbin hotel fandom. its why i put this in an anon message, so i can at least get the idea out of my head somehow :)

I want Emily to offer you both hugs. If you make something out of this, please send it in, because I'd love to see t.

#Anonymous #viv stuff #hazbin hotel critical #actual blog post

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zmediaoutlet · 14 days

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This world without apocalypse—or demons, or angels, or magic of any kind, as far as Dean can tell—is… fine. It's a craphole for all the normal reasons, what with climate change and war and gas over three bunks a gallon. But—as far as Dean can tell, if he went down to the ghost highway in Nevada it'd really just be a dumb story kids tell each other at summer camp and not something that'd get his lungs torn out through his throat. If he went down to a crossroads and buried his face and name in the midnight dirt, he'd just be down a decent fake ID.

It's not like the dream he had all those years ago, when the djinn tried to give him a fantasy that was rotten through its core. This world is sterile. All the problems it has, problems of its own making, with no fate or angels or anyone trying to load the dice. You die here and—you die, and that's all. Your body rots into the earth and grass grows from the dirt above and there's no heaven or hell and no deals to be made and no responsibility to things beyond the concrete meat in front of you. Freedom, more bare and wild than anything he'd ever imagined.

He's gotten through about half the bottle, eyes dry and sore from reading, when Sam reappears, looking harried. "Hey there, People's Sexiest Man 2010," Dean says. At least there's Sam's face, when he hears it. "You think they send you a plaque or something for that?"

"If they do, this guy's probably got it in a trophy room," Sam says, revolted. His eyes drift down from the terrible gigantic version of himself behind Dean's back and to Dean's face, which for some reason makes him frown even if Dean's just—what, he's sitting here. "What?"

"How was—" Dean gestures vaguely at the ceiling. He wandered through the house while Sam was doing his own search, saw the master bedroom with its california king mattress and the his-and-hers bedside tables and the gallon-sized bottle of Wet in the drawer. Sue him, he investigates shit for a living. "You were gone a while."

Sam's mouth gets thin. Prissy bitch. "Don't laugh," he says, and ignores Dean immediately saying no promises. "Said I had a headache. She applied, like. Essential oils. Said we needed to re-align my chakras."

Dean sits back in his chair, something tense that had been wrapping itself around his spine slowly uncoiling. "Tell me she used a crystal," he says.

"Amethyst," Sam says, grim, and Dean whoops. "Dude, this world sucks."

"Oh, I dunno," Dean says, kicking his boots up onto the desk. He lifts the glass of stupid-expensive scotch he's nearly drained. "Got some perks, at least."

Sam comes around the edge of the desk, takes the glass out of his hand, and drains it. Dean would sock him one but, hey, he had some not-Ruby weirdo alpaca owner trying to align his chakras with a purple rock. Instead he leans over and pours Sam another inch or two of liquid gold. He expects him to knock it straight back but Sam only sighs, leans his hip against the desk next to Dean's boots. His thigh against Dean's calf, warm. Real, in a way all this strange day has hardly felt. Like he's been walking around a dumb Hollywood set, like if he threw a punch it'd crack through cheap painted cardboard, but then here was Sam and—there was the world, as it should be. More or less.

"People's Sexiest Man?" Sam says, after a few seconds.

Dean snorts. "People's Choice, too, for… something or other. Looks like we don't win real awards but the fans are into it. Probably for all those abs." Sam rolls his eyes, sitting back on the desk. He sets a boot on the chair next to Dean's ass so their legs press against each other, hip to ankle. "I don't know, man. It's… look, you're rich, you're a movie star or something, you're married. Demons are a crappy special effect. It doesn't one hundred percent suck."

"Genevieve says we had an affair," Sam says. Dean chokes on air, coughs, and Sam hands the glass of scotch back over. Smiling slightly, the bitch. "She wanted to use positive language about—healing with honest communication, or something. We had a huge fight but I guess they managed to cover it up and now you basically live in your trailer. Well, not you—Jason Ackles, or whatever. She thinks I've been trying to make up with you."

"Can't resist this even in an alternate universe," Dean says, when he's recovered his air. An affair. Jesus.

Sam sighs at him. "I hate this house," he says. He slides his hand under Dean's calf, pressing their knees together. "I don't care about alpacas. I don't want to be People's Choice for anything. I'll take all the crap that comes with it if I have to but I want to be home, where I've got my own name and you've got yours, and we're—who we are. Sound good?"

Dean bites the inside of his cheek. Sam raises his eyebrows, waiting. "Yeah, okay," Dean says, voice miraculously clear, and gets Sam to squeeze his calf, to lean forward. His hand sliding up Dean's thigh, his eyes steady on Dean's. Dean swallows, catches Sam's fingers. This free thing spreading wings under his breastbone. "Just—Sammy," he says, and Sam hums, eyes dropping to his mouth. "Maybe we can steal that bottle of Wet before we go?"

#happy wincest wednesday #my writing #ww lottery #a random ficlet for episode 119 #genevieve being determinedly Enlightened about her husband fucking a man made me laugh #what can i say #otherwise this is just some words strung together #streak unbroken

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thesherrinfordfacility · 6 months

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what the hell is going on in hell

this is essentially a braindump of ramble-y thoughts because the situation going on in hell is currently my new sub-fixation. a couple of things mentioned/shown in s2 would indicate the position that hell is currently in, and i dont think it's inaccurate to say that they appear somewhat stretched.

first up, we meet shax in ep1; she and crowley appear to have some kind of arrangement (ha) going in, where they are exchanging information - shax keeping crowley abreast of the goings on in hell, presumably so he can monitor his (and by extension - aziraphale's) safety being now an exiled retired demon... and crowley seems to be helping shax to assimilate to life topside, by means of teaching her behaviour that will mean she blends in more with humanity in her new role.

i did a post on bits of this scene, and on shax in general, that looked at how shax appears to be working somewhat with the favour of the higher-ups, possibly to the point of an unofficial informant, that would help her climb the career ladder. but i do wonder how far her allegiance lies, and actually how much she seems to know. in any case, a couple of things about this scene:

hell either doesn't know, or refuses to change, crowley's address for his post - they're still being sent to the flat in his name, and not his new abode, the bentley. furthermore, it's possibly even the case that hell hasn't even acknowledged that crowley has been replaced - they won't accept/recognise shax's signature.

however, shax appears to be very firmly in position as his replacement, and presumably has been for at least a little while. there's been a gap of 3/4 years between s1 and s2, so allowing for hell to be slow on the uptake in replacing crowley (as well as being initially shit-scared of him re: the holy water bath), plus shax is still learning things/remarking on how easy the job is, let's be really generous and say she's had the position, and the flat, for around six months. realistically though, estimating from her question about the boiler which, from crowley's tone, seems to be something that happens periodically, id say it's likely more around 1-3 months.

in any case, that's plenty of time for hell to update the records, right?*

same as crowley remarked in s1, it seems to be universally understood in hell that the ends justify the means; doesn't matter how things are done, just that they are. if shax echoes this sentiment, it supports that it must be true; hell doesn't give one shit about her interacting with crowley. this is supported by 1827; whether you look at it that crowley didn't secure elspeth's soul for hell through suicide, or that crowley was caught being good/nice in the general sense, either way it's strongly suggested that there is a consequence for him not doing the job. doesn't matter how it's done, only that it is.

ergo, hell doesn't care that shax is interacting with crowley, nor that she appears to be recruiting him as an intelligence source (despite his lackadaisical branding of 'traitor'), only that she does what she's ordered to. the issue is though, what are shax's orders at the moment? which leads me to the next one:

she lists three things, two of which don't appear to hold much importance to crowley, or at least he's not surprised by them. the first - he's still in hell's bad books: cool, not a surprise. the second, however, is the 'half rations' reveal. this brilliant post talks about this, because... well, what would demons feed on? or be interested in having, that holds any kind of importance to them? more on this later*. regardless though, crowley seems... to halfheartedly mull over the information? like its interesting, but not a major surprise? maybe it is, maybe it isn't.

the third thing though is the one that crowley perks up at: that something has happened in heaven. shax appears to admit that she doesn't know the details, and needs intelligence, which crowley brushes off. now, the thing that perplexes me is that - well, the conversation between michael and beelzebub hasn't happened yet, right?

could be that there has actually been a previous conversation between michael and beelzebub, where the news that gabriel has disappeared was revealed - and what we see above is a second conversation about the matter, now that it's gotten a little more urgent (hence the BOL threat)

or, that the two different scenes are out of chronological order... which honestly would be just plain weird.

the first option is possible, that beelzebub found out about gabriel from michael in a previous conversation (and told shax), and the one we see above is a follow-up.

but, in the crowley/shax conversation, shax doesn't actually seem to know that it's anything about gabriel, just that something's going on. so presumably, beelzebub doesn't know at that point either - not until the interaction above with michael. at which point, where did shax get her information from? how would shax have known shit was going on in heaven - even without the specifics - before it seems that even beelzebub knew? does shax have a different in-road with heaven?

(at which point, the only ones that appear to know about gabriel going missing, when it happens, is the metatron, michael, uriel, and saraqael - unless there's been a containment breach/someone else accessed the file? make of that what you will.)

*coming back to this point, on why hell hasn't gotten round to, or been bothered to, update the record that crowley is no longer an employee/in his flat, i think this is directly related simply to hell being short-staffed. i think it was mentioned in a BTS video somewhere, but the set design in hell purposefully included lots of files and folders to directly suggest that there is a huge backlog; whilst the higher-ups may be aware of shax replacing crowley, it doesn't appear to have reached the administrative offices:

as for why hell is short-staffed, ive toyed with it in previous posts/rbs but it would suggest that:

demons are disappearing - im thinking along the lines of the book of life, or just straight up being killed

demons are leaving - perhaps another mass rebellion?

demons aren't leaving but the numbers of the damned keep increasing - this, i think, is the most likely.

we don't know what the deal is with heaven, but presumably there is a separate facility for heavenly souls, and all we see in the show are the offices. in any case, it would kind of make sense that, if heaven is in fact taking its fair share of souls, even if lower-choir angels are attending to them... well, it's unlikely to extremely hands-on, is it; souls can be left to their eternal rest with minimal angelic involvement.

demons, however, are actively torturing their share of souls, such as is the purpose of hell, and this is definitely more hands-on; at which point, demons are going to be overworked/understaffed as the soul population increases. demons are only made from fallen angels, so the staffing situation is only going to get worse - hence why in s1, it was revealed not only that an estimate of 10 million demons exist, but that they would be pretty pissed about being told to go back to work. armageddon was meant to wipe out humans altogether (putting a stop to the ever increasing human population and therefore number of deaths), and bring about an eternal victory for one side or the other.

this, however, assumes that heaven is taking their fair share. i don't think it's necessarily the case that they're not (as i said, we haven't actually seen any areas where human souls exist in heaven - only the higher offices), but it's certainly possible that they're not, and they're all going to hell. at which point, why wouldn't heaven want more souls? isn't that ultimately the point of aziraphale and other earth-stationed angels? to bring about god's plan, but also sway humanity to the good? or is that the point - that human souls going to heaven or hell is inconsequential, and all that matters is the complete annihilation of one by the other?

1941 shows a bit more context for hell, in that we have what appears to be the main lobby, with multiple admissions demons (including shax and furfur) and there are chutes for transport into the lower floors/departments.

one thing i did notice as a small difference between 1941 and 2023, is the lights; this could be purely ambience/a single set design choice, but compare the scene where furfur has an audience with dagon, and the crowley/beelzebub chat - the lights in latter start flickering, like they are faulty or there is a power supply issue. this not appearing to happen in 1941 would suggest that the situation has gotten worse between these two points in time. it could just be for the ambience as i said, absolutely, but i think the line re: rations* could potentially be linked here.

another thing that interested me in 1941 is this:

pretty intriguing that the camera deliberately focuses on this, right? instead of continuing to track behind furfur? if it is Of Interest, what is the hourglass keeping time in, or counting down to? it could be the apocalypse, but if you consider the proportionality of sand in the top to the bottom, vs. the time that has passed since the Beginning vs. the next 78 years until armageddon, that seems... well, disproportionate? so could it be ticking down to something else, or does the hourglass time something, and it's just been recently flipped? at which point, why is it framed as so significant?

*returning to the "half-rations" point, there has to be due credit to this post by @that-ineffable-devil, it's such a good point; what do demons care about - is integral to their existence, and is essentially in short supply - that rationing would be necessary? crowley doesn't seem overly intrigued by the notion, but shax idly considers it important enough to share when prompted. op suggested that it's power; that there isn't enough (given that miracles appear to be drawn down from heaven/up from hell) to go around. op gave the great example of the ceiling leak in s1, but if the flickering lights, the broken lift mentioned by eric in ep5, and the excess backlog of filing in s2 is also anything to go by - yeah, these things could be solved with a demonic miracle or 'magical' intervention... so why aren't they?

gabriel cautions (putting it politely) aziraphale at some point around 1793 around using up 'frivolous miracles', which suggests that heaven was/is having a similar issue (or, alternatively, it was simply a power flex; to keep aziraphale in his place, so to speak). however, when we look at the archangels' reactions to the 25-lazarii miracle, their main concern understandably, given the plot, is what it signifies (ie. it's too coincidental to have occurred at the same time as gabriel going AWOL)... but not so much that there isn't enough power to allow a 25-lazarii miracle to go unchecked. instead, it seems like the sheer scale of it is just completely written off, that heaven doesn't actually care too much about how much power it seems to have partially drawn from heaven (ie. if it's a 50/50 split, 12.5 lz), and they seem to write it off like petty cash.

so tl;dr, hell might be having a power issue, but heaven doesn't appear to be sharing in it. i don't think it's anything to do with human souls fuelling miracles, because by the same logic (which i accept may be completely flawed. in fact id stake my life it is) the pool of power should be increasing, rather than decreasing - if more and more souls are being funnelled into hell and heaven respectively. so what if instead there's a leak somewhere - what if heaven is syphoning off power from hell? and when did the power leak start happening - was it to do with the failed apocalypse? is it actually nothing to do with heaven, but instead that because the soul population keeps going up and up, the power they actually have to contain and maintain them is stretched really thin? power can't be spared for lower-priority shit like filing and maintenance? why isn't heaven having the same issue? why is power seemingly finite, and where does it come from? does power actually come from god? or does it directly parallel to humanity's faith (and, presumably, the dwindling amount of it) in god? but heaven is closer to god, so they haven't yet been hit with the shortage?

this is still flummoxing me slightly - if there even is any answer to be had/if there's anything deeper to be read here - but the post is already long enough that it's probably best to leave it there... ideas very much welcome!!!✨

#good omens #getting this one out the drafts its burning a hole #dont have a hell tag yet so sticking this under #heaven theory #this requires more intellect than my two braincells bumping off each other and occasionally creating sparks

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yanderedollhouse · 1 month

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Part 2.5

Night Shift

Demon!Yandere OC x Suicidal!Reader Summary: Short bonus scene after you go to bed

Warnings: Yandere, Suicide mentions (ideation, failed attempt, urges), Obsessive behavior, needles, religious concepts (angels, demons, heaven, hell), delusions, fantasy horror/ gore, harm and recovery, hospitals, psychiatric ward, manipulation, medical malpractice, murder, harassment, medication malcompliance, noncon, kidnapping Resources: Connect with a trained crisis counselor. The 988 Suicide and Crisis Line is confidential, free, and available 24/7/365. Word Count: 1.6k

I bet on losing dogs

I know they're losing and I pay for my place by the ring

Where I'll be looking in their eyes when they're down

I'll be there on their side, I'm losing by their side

Andreas shut the door to your room quietly behind him. This time, he made sure to lock it securely before walking off. Stalking down the hall, he muttered angrily to himself, replaying the evening over and over in his head.

What exactly had gone wrong? He knew you wanted to take his deal. He could see it in your eyes. He could feel it in your quickened pulse as he held your fragile, human hand. He had set the whole thing up to be perfect!

Well, that run-in with the other nurse certainly hadn’t helped. He would deal with her later. And he had to improvise a bit when you asked about security, but his plans had absolutely never gone this wrong.

His vision goes red for just a second.

“Sir? Sir!” Andreas hears Samson’s grating voice against his ears and feels a hand on his shoulder. He shakes it off immediately.

“What?” Andreas tries to keep the annoyance out of his voice as he faces the taller man.

“Uhh” Samson points a shaky finger at the hole in the wall.

“Oh.” Andreas takes his hand out of the wall. “I’m fine. Just go back to your station.” He shakes some drywall off his knuckles. His thumb running over the indent where your teeth scarred him. He could have easily removed any trace of your attack, but so few people made him bleed. He didn’t mind keeping the reminder. Even if it made his blood run hot at the moment. He looks back up at Samson saying, “I told you to leave. What do you want?”

“He wants you to fix your face, Demon.” Graves chimes in from safely behind Samson.

“Oh.” Now that Andreas thinks of it, he can feel that his human form is slipping. His eyes must be black and that’s what's scaring Samson. The guard was a good person and didn’t like to be reminded that he had sold his soul to Andreas. “Better?” he asks after a moment.

“You’ll knock them dead, sir!”

“You’re ready for prom night, that’s for sure.”

“Get out of here before I decide to rethink your contracts.” Andreas watches as the two idiots scurry off like roaches. Maybe he should fill your room with roaches and wait until you beg him to make a deal before he lets you out.

No, he hasn’t been a demon for a horribly long time like most, but he has at least figured out that you get better responses from the carrot rather than the stick. He needs to figure out what you want. What you really want. Before he offers it to you. He knows that there has to be something in your life that could change for the better. But first, he needs to call in a few favors.

Cordyline Smith could always be found in the employee break room, so when Andreas finds it empty, He’s forced to extend his sight elsewhere. Closing his own eyes and filing through the souls around him, he finally opens Cordyline’s. She’s on the bathroom floor somewhere. Typical. She probably came into work hungover again.

He assumes correctly and finds her in the gender-neutral bathroom nearest to the breakroom. Her ID badge laying discarded behind her on the floor as she clutches the rim of a toilet. He begins to pull her long, black hair back gently and she flinches at his touch, then relaxes.

“I swear I was on my way to find you.” She says, not facing him, but he isn’t concerned about seeing her eyes. Like Samson and Graves, Cordyline has been in contract with Andreas long enough to know it’s useless lying to him.

“It’s alright.” He reassures her. “I wouldn’t have been able to talk until now anyway. What’s going on? Out too late last night?”

“I wish.” She laughs bitterly, holding up the wand in her hand. Even from this distance, he can’t make out the result with his own eyes, but the context of the situation tells him it's a positive pregnancy test. Cordyline begins to sob now and Andreas sighs. He lets his human form slip down enough to conjure a large bottle of anti-nausea OTCs.

“Come on, let’s get out of here and discuss this in the breakroom.” He says, shaking the bottle a bit to get her attention. She gets up and washes her hands.

Andreas offers his arm, and she holds it, walking stiffly to the breakroom. When they arrive, Cordyline’s eyes go wide as she sees what he’s got in store for her.

“You’re not mad at me?” She makes a beeline for the freshly hot box of donuts with her name on it- exactly what she is craving in the moment.

“Accidents happen.” He shrugs. “And I need a favor anyway.” She gives him a questioning look. “I need you to do some research on the patient in room 666, y/n. I want to know absolutely everything you can find, no matter how useless it seems. I’ll even take a high school transcript.” She raises her eyebrows.

“Someone trying to get out of a contract?” She pulls out her phone and starts typing away immediately.

“On the contrary.” He admits. “I made her an offer and she wouldn’t take it.”

“Really? That’s never happened before.”

“Yeah, don’t rub it in.” Andreas clutches at his heart, pretending to be hurt.

“Okay, there’s not a huge presence here, but I’ll send you what I’ve got.” She types for a few more seconds and then puts her phone down to face him. “Can we please discuss the terms of my contract?”

Andreas was expecting this. People’s priorities tend to change dramatically in Cordyline’s situation. “And here I thought you knew you couldn’t get out of a deal. Not even I have the power to undo what’s been done.”

“It’s not that!” She says quickly. “I- I need to renew our contract. Or make a new one, however it works.” She puts a hand lightly over her stomach. “I’m keeping it, and I don’t know if that means I’m on my own yet.”

“Oh.” Today was full of surprises. Andreas smiles and puts a comforting hand on her shoulder. “You’re never going to be alone in this.” He promises. “I’ll be here for the whole journey.” He can’t be certain, but he thinks that he can feel her shiver under his touch.

And five minutes later, he’s walking out of the breakroom with the energy of a new contract at his heels, leaving Cordyline to sleep on the couch until her break is over. Considering how the day has gone, he believes he needed a win.

Now that Cordyline’s child has a secure future and support, it’s time to shift his focus back to you. He carefully makes his way back to the psych ward on the 6th floor, momentarily stopping to check in on Lauren, the other nurse in psych that you ran into during your grand escape. She is still a bit shaken, but Andreas assures her that he has your case under control and that he’ll be working overtime for it.

There’s no need to assign anyone else to your case, he won’t be taking any time off until you make a deal with him. It’s his top priority. Just in case, he puts a warning note about violent outbursts in your file to prevent visits from staff, family, or other patients. It’s not a total lie.

He has approximately 3 other marks in the ward at the moment but decides not to pursue any of them any further. He’ll reassign them to Samuel, Lauren, and the floaters. After all, they’re all voluntary admissions, nothing special.

It’s about 3 am when he finally has a chance to comb through the information Cordyline sent to his email. From the looks of it, your inner circle consists of two parents, an on-again-off-again boyfriend, and a handful of friends from college.

Andreas moves quickly, looking through the profiles of your friends first. It looks like you’re tagged in a few of their photos from your college years, but nothing recent. He double checks with your transcript and confirms that you dropped out voluntarily shortly before you were to graduate. It seems like your depression was affecting your grades too much. You probably have little contact with those friends anyway, as it looks like the majority of them have settled down. He goes through your parents’ information too, but nothing catches his eye.

When he can’t find anything on your supposed boyfriend, he becomes a bit frustrated. Doesn't everyone live online these days? Yet, you’ve made absolutely no impression on the internet.

You give him no choice. Andreas reaches into the electronics drawer and fishes out the phone that was in your pocket when you were admitted. He sets it up on a charger and makes a call down to Cordyline to get it unlocked. He looks up to see the sun start to rise over the east building. You’ll be awake soon, since the safety blinds in your room are poor quality.

Fifteen minutes and another six bacon-covered donuts as payment later, Andreas is granted access to your entire life.

#obsessive yandere #yanblr #yandere drabble #yandere #yandere blog #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #andreas my oc

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radiostranger · 3 months

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supernatural finale first time watch thoughts:

THE DOG IS BACK YES

sam would be a jogger idk it makes so much sense

“HOT! bread”

dean is so me attempting to clean

honestly i could watch a whole season of this domestic shit just add castiel back in and id be content

no dean. don’t “got something”please don’t “got something”

oh it’s a pie fest. carry on (badum ch)

cas mention :’)

oh no it’s the barn i know what’s coming i hate it dean pls drive away

and you know what?? WHAT IF THAT NINJA STAR HAD SAVED DEANS LIFE SAM HM?? LET HIM HAVE HIS NINJA STAR

this looks like the lazarus rising barn🤧

i see the rusty nail i see it and i hate it

who the fuck is jenny

oh no here it comes

“i always looked up to you” “i’m so proud of you” “i cant do this without you. i don’t want to” and what if i spontaneously combusted rn hm? what then?

i hate this show. no one look at me.

is rufus married to …. aretha… franklin ?? am i dumb or is that what they were insinuating

CAS HELPED ??? CAS. HELPED????? IS HE ALIVE ??? HOW DID HE GET OUT OF THE EMPTY I HAVE SO MANY QUESTIONS

THE ORIGINAL LICENSE PLATE

the blurry woman™️ is eileen bc i said so. them not showing her at all in the last two episodes was cruel

WHAT TUE FUCK IS THAT WIG

i deserve reimbursement for having to watch that

oh what hi jensen and jared and crew 🤠

andddd cut :(

final thoughts: okay as much as i don’t love that ending and it felt kinda cheap and not great writing wise it’s not assssss awful as i expected from the way people talk about it but also i don’t have the background of watching the show for 15 years. plus i knew most of the spoilers so it’s hard to say what i actually would have thought if i saw it the way intended. main takeaways:

1. wtf did castiel not show up in heaven hm ??

2. i’m pissed they didn’t include at least a tiny mention of eileen :( all that set up for her and sam relationship just for her to die, presumably be brought back to life but not even mentioned??

3. i need fix it fics. immediately.

#supernatural #spn #dean winchester #spn fandom #castiel #sam winchester #spn finale #supernatural finale

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thyla · 1 year

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@machine-slays-dragons asked for a steddie fic rec. thought it might be easier to do a post and share. on request there will be no vampire!eddie fics on this list. and also i’m fairly new to steddie so i’m sure a lot of these fics have been read by lots of people. But I will try to stay clear of adding very popular ones to this list. so anz, hopefully there’s at least one fic on this list you haven’t read!! this isn’t even close to everything i’ve read just ones i’ve recently read. so here’s a short fic rec! Also! it’ll be a mixture of fics i’ve read on here and also fics i’ve read over on ao3.

Eddie’s Memory Log or read it here (starting here because I just finished this fic and it’s amazing 😘 go read!) 38,523 words

The only reason Steve volunteers to keep a journal to track Eddie Munson’s skim-milk memories, is because of the twerps. They have school, they can’t commute to the government-protected hospital that’s all the way in the city. That, and they gave Steve this well-rehearsed, tearjerker performance about how grateful they would be. About how grateful Eddie would be. Pfft like shit on a stick, he’ll be grateful. The dude doesn’t even remember how old he is, how the hell is supposed to be grateful for Steve Harrington jotting down notes in binder? But those kids have been through Spielberg-level disaster shit. Steve has too, but they’re just kids. So he’ll do it. He’ll do it for them and only them.

never been kissed (26,726 words)

Someone should... definitely check on how his brain is doing, after Eddie’s confession. Virginity is bullshit anyway, right? Robin told him about it, how it’s a completely made-up societal construct that invalidates a lot of queer people’s sexual experiences, and how toxic it can be to straight relationships too, so he can take her lesson to heart and be normal about it. Totally. “That’s so fucking hot,” he blurts out. Okay Harrington, way to be normal about it!Or, Steve is experienced, and Eddie is a virgin.

in breakable heaven (23,724 words)

"Dustin…” Nancy asks slowly. “Do they know we know?”

“No?” Dustin tries, but the way his voice goes up an octave or two betrays him.

“Dustin.” The girls say in unison.

“Okay, yes, they know you know!” Dustin finally gives in, throwing his hands in the air in defeat. It’s been one long summer and he just wants this thing to be over with already.

"Wait." Robin says. "They don't know that we know they know."

OR: Steve and Eddie are trying to hide their budding relationship, but their friends keep finding out anyway. Things take a turn for the worse when their friends try to mess with them to get revenge (based on Friends s5ep14 The One Where Everyone Finds Out)

slowly learning that life is okay series (35,112 words)

Under a much different circumstance, Eddie would have loved to have Steve’s eyes looking over him like that, would love to have that determination focused on him, but Eddie is very much dying, he knows it, so he smiles at Steve’s misplaced confidence instead, “High expectations, Stevie. Where’d you learn to swing like that anyway?”

“I’ll tell you,” Steve’s voice is a bit shaky, his tone wavering, even as he puts on a brave face, “but you have to stay alive, Munson.”

If he had more strength, he’d consider testing his luck one last time, tease Steve by asking if he swings for Eddie’s team, but- he’s tired.

Dying young. What a fucking nightmare.

Or, what if the Party defeats Vecna in time, and Eddie lives?

There id a Light That Never Goes Out series (73,886 words)

It’s not even the nightmares most of the time. At this point, Steve would totally settle for some up close and personal time in his brainpan with the Upside Down if it meant he could actually fucking sleep.

Crimson and Clover verse (20,685 words)

“There’s no immediate supernatural danger to our universe currently, not at this exact moment. I’ll be sure to let you know if there is. I’m just trying to get a little buzzed and have a good night, okay? Not everyone has to be perpetually horny all the time.” “It’s like I don’t even know you anymore!” Robin says, mock-hurt.

Or, Steve has a bisexual identity crisis and Eddie just wants to make him feel good.

or or or I saw a post about Eddie having a black hankie in his back pocket which in gay hankie code in the eighties meant that you were into S&M.

don’t ruin this on me (2,298 words)

Steve had always loved making his partners feel good. Watching people cum just from his mouth, their legs clamped around his ears–it was his favourite thing.

Or it was, before Eddie Munson ruined it for him. Ruined him..

(Or: Eddie sets out to Destroy Steve in the best way.)

Seems to Satisfy (5,348 words)

“I can’t like… get hard. At all. Since, uhhh -” he trailed off awkwardly.

There was silence, for a second. Steve’s fingers dug into his thighs.

“You… what?” said Eddie, finally.

love is like ghosts (7,780 words)

They stand at the base of a short flight of stairs leading up to the old university library. From everything Steve’s read, it’s one of the most haunted places in Indiana… within a tank of gas’ drive… that would let them in after hours.

“It’s the witching hour,” Eddie says spookily. He’s come up behind Steve, pressing close and wiggling his fingers on Steve’s shoulders.

Steve huffs a laugh and starts double checking his pockets for his share of the gear. Something to focus on that’s not the way Eddie’s breath ruffles his hair and skims over his cheek, raising goosebumps in its wake.

It’s not like he doesn’t like the attention, the closeness, the physicality of Eddie. He does. Probably too much. Especially since they’re just friends. Steve knows he’s not special to be on the receiving end, it’s how Eddie is with everyone.

the lathe (82,547 words)

"This time, do it right. This time Eddie won’t bleed out in his arms, in anyone’s arms. This time, Steve will do it right."

— or, steve relives the day they try to kill vecna over and over, and eddie just can't seem to stop dying. steve finds this totally unacceptable.

flight risk (81,321 words)

Eddie Munson is famous for giving his bodyguards the slip. Enter Steve Harrington. Has this bratty rock star finally met a babysitter that can keep up with him?

Rock My World (23,160 words)

After a lot of nagging from Dustin, Steve agrees to take him to see Eddie’s band, Corroded Coffin, play at the Hideout. He finds himself focused on more than just the music…

—

Or, Steve has a hell of a revelation.

In Your Eyes series (48,965 words)

It was decided then and there in the Buckley residence’s lounge, on their weird Persian carpet while staring up at the off-white ceiling and Robin giggling at his side. He was going to rock Steve Harrington’s platonic world, man. And nothing was going to get in his way.

Or... Eddie notices Steve struggles with touch and in trying to help his new friend, develops feelings along the way.

i don’t ask much (i just want you) (8,224 words)

"The fuck are you doing, Harrington?"

"Getting comfortable." Is the only response Eddie receives before Steve's head lands on his shoulder, half on his chest as he scoots up in the bed. Eddie freezes, mid air guitar solo, and frowns.

"Personal space, dude." He's so proud of his voice for not cracking when he says it, "Heard of it?"

Steve snorts and takes a puff, smoke clouding around his mouth before he blows it away, lips pursed in the air. "Don't think you're one to talk about personal space but I'll move if you want."

the affliction of the feelings (27,203 words)

“Hold on,” Robin interrupts. “Hold on, is this— are you, like. Do you know what masochism is?”

“I know I act like it sometimes, Robin, but I’m not actually fucking twelve,” Steve says.

OR: Eddie has a black hanky in his back pocket.

Steve and Eddie: Alternative ‘First’ meeting (read here on tumblr)

The Shire is NOT on Fire (54,148 words)

The kids convince Steve to take them all to a Renaissance Faire and LARP event. Steve has more fun than he admits. And then Steve has a LOT more fun than he admits.

November Paramedic (read here on tumblr) or on ao3 (25,662 words)

Eddie has had his fair share of fantasies, but none of them involved fucking a paramedic.

Until two years ago.

That's when the "sexy men at work"-calendar got added to his porn stash and orgasms as he knew them changed forever. All the men in the calendar are hot, but none of them hold a candle to the paramedic. He's got this look in his eyes, this slant to his mouth. Like he knows he's the hottest guy in it.

And everything is fine. Everything is great. Eddie's been single forever and he has no idea where he's headed in life, but he's fine.

At least until he's collateral damage in a bar fight after a gig, and none other than his sexy November-paramedic arrives to treat his wounds.

#steddie #steddie fics #steddie fic rec #anztag #*ficrecs

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heresmandie4u · 8 days

Text

You Were Always There - 2

Warnings/Explicit 18+: none

Word Count: 2037

A/N: I actually love this story so much actually. I also was listening to Jack Black's band Tenacious D the whole time while writing this so excuse any mistakes.

You Were Always There Materlist

A week later, Gabe and Jennifer sat in two rolling chairs on the opposite sides of the room from each other in her office. They sat, throwing a yellow tennis ball back and forth. Jennifer sighed when she missed the ball and it bounced off into the corner of the room. Gabe smirked as she stood and walked over to grab it.

“Jennifer, there are two men here who want to see the body from yesterday.” Jennifer looked to where Gabe was quickly, worried that her coworker had seen him, but saw that he was already gone. “They say they are with the FBI.” Jannifer nodded.

“Ok, let them in.” Her coworker, a lady named Stacy waved to people she could not see and opened the door wide enough for them, closing it once they were inside. The two men were young, one significantly taller than the other. The shorter had spiked brown hair and green eyes that she could have stared at for days. The taller also had brown hair, though it was longer, going down to at least the middle of his neck. Both wore suits, the taller’s noticeably straighter. The shorter of the two spoke first, holding out a hand for her to shake.

“Hi, I’m Agent Vedder and this is my partner Agent Cornell,” Jennifer made a face at the names. Agent Cornell quickly flashed his ID and then shook her hand as well, smiling sweetly.

“So, you want to see yesterday’s body?” she asked and both men nodded. She grabbed gloves from a box beside her and walked to the refrigerators, opening one of the doors and pulling out the slide. This one was male, age 24 with black hair and brown eyes. He showed to be completely healthy except for the missing heart. The men examined the body, glancing at each other every couple of seconds. Jennifer watched them carefully.

“Can I ask,” Agent Cornell started, pointing to the chest. “Where is the heart?” She shrugged.

“They all have been coming in like this.” The shorter mumbled to himself softly.

“And do you have any idea what this could have been?” She pierced her lips, thinking.

“It had to be a person. I know that. The chest was stitched back up here,” she pointed to where she had cut the insition back open. “And the heart was ripped out. You can see here. The only reason I can think anyone would do that is sacrifice. But that was mainly Aztecs who did that.” Agent Vedder walked around the body next to her.

“What about something non-human? Something supernatural?” She scoffed.

“Heaven knows we have enough of that here. Are you trying to tell me this was aliens? You didn’t tell me you worked for the X-Files,” The shorter shook his head.

“Of course not. Not aliens. What kind of stories are in this area?” She stared.

“Other than the aliens? Not a whole ton. Some believe that the mountain is some world vertex. I don’t know about that though. Umm…” she walked to the pictures above her desk. “There are the Lumeriens,”

“Lumeriens?” She made her way back to the men.

“Yeah, they are just these giant people who have tunnels under the mountain. I guess that used to come from Lumeria. I don’t know where that is.” She started to slide the body back in. “They are these druid-like things, I think. But I’ve never heard of them sacrificing anything.” All three turned to the sound of the door opening.

“Dr. Winchester, there is another one,”

“Shit,” She pushed the body fully into the fridge and locked the door, hurrying around the room while getting things ready. She did not see the shocked look that the two men who called themselves Agent Vedder and Agent Cornell shared. “Bring it in” she called. “Thank you, Agents. I don’t know if you want to stay. It’s just going to be the same as the others. No heart and completely healthy.” The taller shook his head.

“No, that’s ok. Thank you… Dr. Winchester,” he waved at the shorter, who was staring at her, to follow.

Jennifer jerked the car door open roughly and fell inside. She sat without turning it on, thinking. Whatever this was made no sense. There was no pattern of time, place, or person except for all of the hearts missing. She could not work it out. The two agents asking if it could have been something supernatural did not help control her thoughts. Her phone rang suddenly, making her jump before she picked it up.

“Hey Jenny, I have to be in Sacramento tomorrow so I’m not going to be home tonight,” She nodded to herself.

“Ok. What time will you be back tomorrow?” She turned on the heater and started the car.

“I don’t know. I think late,” She could hear him sigh from the other side. “I’ve got to go. Bye,”

“Bye,” she hung up and began to drive.

Pulling into the driveway, Gabe sits on the steps, standing once he sees her. She climbs out and grabs her bags from the back, Gabe reaching over her to help. They walked inside together, falling onto the couch. A couple hours later, it was dark and Gabe was asleep beside her. She stood and went to the hallway closet.

She walked outside holding a blanket close to her chest. Flinging it out, she laid it out on the grass. She crawled to the ground and stretched out on her back, looking at the stars. She thought of all the things from when she was younger, back in high school with her closest friends. She remembered the feeling of loneliness. All of her friends had their boyfriends there. Her's couldn't go that night, so she sat alone. She eventually texted that one friend that she promised herself that she would not speak to again. She didn't forgive her, yet she did talk to her. Though it hurt, it felt almost normal. She missed those days. The days when she didn't feel like there was something missing. Some days, one of her friends would drive two or three of them home. She would sit in the back most often; often silent when the other two sat in the front, one yelling the heavy rap music out the window and the other giggling about how unhinged the other was. They would sometimes see one of their exes, the bad ones, and yell out the window at them. Most of the time it was simple things like “earthquake” or “I’m only 185, honey you put the decimal point in the wrong place”. Jennifer laughed softly to herself thinking about them.

“What’s got you giggling?” She looked over to where Gabe had spoken. He strolled over to her and laid down on the blanket, one arm behind his head.

“Just old memories,” She returned her eyes to the stars, watching as they twinkled brightly above.

“Tell me a memory. One of your favorites,” She glanced at him, smiling at the smirk on his face. She let out a breathy laugh.

“Ok. Umm…” she rustled through her memories, trying to find a perfect one to tell as a story. “Ok, so this was back in high school. I think it was the end of my sophomore year. I used to go over to one of my best friends’ house every day; her name was Micky. So, one Friday, I was spending the night because we were going to this school event later that night,” She sighed as she watched a shooting star pass overhead. “Micky’s younger sister and older sister’s friend were with us. Micky’s dad asked us what we wanted for dinner and they all said In-N-Out,”

“Are we going to get to an exciting part?”

“Will you be quiet?” Jennifer threw some grass at Gabe playfully. “Anyway… we all got in the car and they all had their shoes off. Don’t look at me like that. It was funny in the moment.” She went to pull up more grass and Gabe put his hand up defensively. “Lily, who is Micky’s younger sister, kept downing the thing where you put your hand up and say ‘hey’ in that voice but with her toes.” She demonstrated but with her hands, pulling one forward with her finger opening up as she said ‘hey’ that made Gabe laugh. “Anyway, all the way there, with four girls and one man, we listened to the girliest music. Like ‘Party in the USA’ and ‘Breaking Dishes’,” Gabe rolled over onto his stomach, laying his head on his arms while looking at her. “There was this old lady behind us in the drive-thru and Lily, Trin, and I kept turning around and looking at her and then Lily waved at her. There was this guy we knew from school working the window and when we pulled up Trin said ‘You forgot our shake’. He looked so confused and asked what shake,” Jennifer’s smile grew. “All Trin said was ‘shake that bootie’ and sunk down in her seat so fast,” Gabe chuckled at that. “See, it was funny. Nothing else really happened but we drove home all singing the songs and Micky’s dad made fun of a whole bunch of people. It was nothing really special; I just felt in the moment, you know?” Gabe nodded.

He opened his mouth to say something when a loud banging at the door interrupted him. Jennifer looked back to see the back door sitting open. She rolled her eyes at Gabe as she stood and headed to answer it. Standing outside were two tall men… the very men from earlier.

“Agents, what are you doing here? It’s,” She looked back at the clock hanging on the wall. “It’s 12. A little late to be out,”

“Sorry, Miss Winchester. We have reason to believe that you are in danger,” Jennifer raised her eyebrows in surprise.

“What?” She looked around to find Gabe to ask what he thought, but could not find him anywhere.

“Could we come in, please?” asked Agent Vedder. Jennifer nodded, opening the door wide enough for both to enter. Agent Cornell smiled politely as he passed her. She returned the smile, closing the door behind him and following them into the living room. “So, do you live here alone?” Agent Vedder asked, picking up a Las Vegas snow globe off the shelf.

“No, I live with my fiancee. He isn’t home tonight,” He nodded, continuing to pick things off the shelves and examine them. “I really don’t understand what is happening. What do you mean I am in danger?”

“It’s hard to explain Miss Winchester,” he paused a moment before saying her last name. “Can I ask you what happened to your parents?” Agent Vedder glared at his partner.

“I don’t know. I lived in an orphanage all my life.” She sat in the large blue armchair near the window. “Please try to explain whatever it is to me. Please. I deserve to know.” Agent Cornell looked to the other agent and shrugged. The other sighed deeply and closed his eyes for a moment before speaking.

“What do you know about demons?” Jennifer scrunched her nose.

“Are you trying to tell me that I’m in danger because of…demons?” Both men nodded. “I need a drink” she sighed. She stood and went to the kitchen grabbing three beers from the fridge. She walked back out to the men, handing them each one. “If you really think it’s demons, you definitely need a drink,” they sat in silence as they opened the beers and took their first drink. Jennifer looked into the bottle, trying to bring her thoughts together. “What I would like to know first, are your actual names,” Both men looked shocked at her words and looked at each other for a response.

“What do you me-”

“I know your names are not actually Vedder and Cornell. Are you guys on hunger strike or something? Do you have a black hole sun somewhere? Are you even flowing?” She knew what she had said made no sense, but she knew that the men would be caught with it. “I can’t trust you if I don’t even know your real names.” The tall let a breath out.

“I’m Sam. And he is my brother, Dean.” She nodded.

“Last names?”

“Winchester,”

#spn headcanon #spn #spnfandom #castiel #dean winchester #supernatural #sam winchester #crowley x ofc #crowley

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