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#rock and rule stretch
mikatoonist · 5 months
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rock and rule redesigns! 🤘🎸
wanted to make them more animal-like, since they are human/animal hybrids (so, furries)
angel is a cat, omar and stretch are rats and dizzy is a capybara!
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star-keepr · 7 months
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STRETCH ART STUDY I'M SO PROUD OF THIS <33333
@cruiseboost 👀
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clini-calia · 2 years
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cruiseboost · 6 months
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some self insert bullshit 🦅🦅
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thebigfudanshi · 8 months
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feel-the-fire · 1 year
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Rock & Rule homies come get y’all juice
Please like/reblog if you use! 🎸❤️‍🔥
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rajbows · 1 year
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sighs
in rock and rule, angel should’ve dumped omar and gotten together with cindy instead
….. please tell me im not alone on this idea
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daniecho · 2 years
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The funniest thing about finding out that MGM edited the opening crawl of Rock and Rule to include the bit about mutated dogs, cats, and rats is thinking about how long my friend and I, in our technically one bedroom Denver apartment absolutely blitzed on jug wine eating poutine and beignets, spent talking about which characters were which species or whether the idea might be that the mutated dogs, cats, and rats eventually became one united species mixing all three
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Humans are weird but Danny phantom
So Danny has been in the ghost zone for centuries ruling over all the infinet realms like the good king he is
But something happened in the DC universe that called his attention, he went in, fixed the problem and left
Well a few months later the JL summoned him trying to get an alliance with him and he accepts so now he comes to the JL meetings and just hangs out in the watchtower
But he's been ghost king so long that he forgets human customs so now there are so many moments where he just goes "hmmm humans are weird"
He and plastic man got into a stretching contest and he was confused when the other leaguers asked them to stop
He once walked into a meeting eating some rock candy and everyone freaked out, he's still confused
Wonder Woman tried the lasso of truth on him and was shocked when it had no effect
He and Dr Fate once got into a screaming match over something and everyone looked at him like a god for 2 months
He once got so annoyed with Superman that he overshadowed him and put him to sleep, he dosen't get why that's a big deal
He brings the weirdest snacks to JL meetings, flash once asked for some and he had to check if it was safe, they didn't like that
He just reaches through things, people, walls, force fields whatever; if he wants something he will get it
When he's tired he just becomes a disembodied star floating around the watchtower; people set up a bedroom for him so they don't have to see it again
On robins request he brings extinct animals to the watchtower
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merakiui · 2 months
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タコの花嫁。
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yandere!azul ashengrotto x (female) reader cw: yandere, nsfw, non-con, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, arranged marriage, oviposition, breeding, royalty au note - in an effort to bring peace to two warring sides, you are engaged to the sea queen’s son.
If anyone is to blame for the abysmal diplomacy between the Land and the Sea, it would be your ancestors. Pompous and foolhardy, they thought they could rule the grand seas stretching out from the harbor, beyond weather-worn docks with their rotted, seaweed-strewn planks and briny fetor. The ocean was vast, unexplored territory—a dangerous, deceptive beauty harboring life far beneath unruly waves.
And your ancestors intended to claim it.
Sailors would recount tales of fishfolk—uncanny creatures who looked more marine than the two-legged mammals of the land. They’d raise mugs, each overflowing with ale, in drunken merriment, terrifying themselves with the mysteries of the deep, dark sea.
“It ought to give ya a proper scare straight to Davy Jones himself!” they’d say, voices lowered conspiratorially. “Soon as yer candle goes out and all ya’ve got’s the moon to guide ya… You’ll hear ’em slip through the water if yer listenin’ well enough.”
“You ever go and spy one up close?”
“I’d sooner see the Devil himself and let him keelhaul me before facin’ those cursed beasts!”
“The cut of their jib ain’t so pretty. Enough to give men like us a fright and we’ve seen all sorts of somethin’.”
“Monsters, I say! Monsters!”
Festivals were held to keep these beasts at bay—to prevent them from gathering the courage to creep up onto the land. Every year, during the summer solstice, pits were hollowed on the shore and bordered with stones. Flames licked towards the sky, red-orange fingers clawing for purchase amidst the stars above. Townsfolk would sing and dance late into the eve, bellowing songs passed through the generations. Children would skip up and down the beach, torches in hand, and cry out an old chant: “Fish for you and me are meant to stay in the sea! Should you see one on land, may the Heavens strike it down with a gentle, loving hand!”
Their excitement did well to ward off the fishfolk. Sometimes the lone child would spot one in the distance, peeking out from between the rocks before diving back under in a splash.
On land, humans were safe. On land, the fishfolk couldn’t catch them.
It was different in the sea.
Ships were destroyed in terrible tempests. The waves tossed them around as if they were nothing. Many sailors would find their demise at the bottom of the ocean, torn to shreds with shattered skeletons. Viscerally brutalized, they died with secrets on their tongues—secrets of the strange fishfolk who’d drag them down, down, down to a watery grave.
On one cold February afternoon, the octopus prince was brought into the world. In shadowed fathoms, a grand celebration was held. After so much time—misfortune after misfortune—one fry survived out of the entire clutch. He was round and soft and small, colored blue from exertion and fighting through the tug of the current to reach home. The Sea Queen met him halfway and embraced him, ecstatic tears in her eyes, for a mother’s love is stronger than any political power.
“My little Azul,” she said, stroking a hand along his cheek, “how precious you are.”
No ships were sunk; no lives were lost. It was a peaceful day for both the Land and the Sea. And it would continue to be so in the future. Every year on that same February, it was made a day of peace to honor the little prince.
A day of life, not death.
It was on that same February eleven years later when you were tossed into the frigid depths like a hatchling cast out of its nest. Similarly, your birth had been a wondrous occasion. Your parents brought five boys into the world, each just as adored as the last, but they had been hoping for a daughter. It was a miracle when their fervent wishes were finally granted. You were spoiled as all daughters often are, pampered and doted on by your family and the palace staff.
Your brothers, though protective and caring, were a troublesome and rowdy bunch. Kyffin was the eldest. Two years younger was Emyr, and another two years behind him was Owin. A year younger than him were twins Morcan and Martyn. They picked on you as all immature boys often do when caught up in sibling rivalries, aiming to be the only one their parents see. To prove themselves as the best, the strongest, the wisest.
So it was with a half-cruel heart that Emyr tossed you into the waves from where he stood in the rowboat.
“Only way to learn is with exposure!” he called down to you, watching as you struggled against the push and pull of the sea. 
“C-Can’t!” you shouted back, choking on salt and flailing about. “E-Emyr, I can’t—can’t swim!”
“Don’t be silly,” Owin added with a sweet smile. “It’s how we learned. That old sod threw us right in. You’re lucky it’s us and not him. He was awfully mean with it, wasn’t he?”
“Terribly so.” Emyr watched your struggling a moment longer and clicked his tongue. He held the oar out just before you could slip under, and you clung to it with shaky hands. “Come on—let’s get you up here. You’re not gonna get it today.”
“Fin got it on his first try.”
“Fin gets everything on his first bloody try.”
Relieved, your heart pounding like a drum, you peered up at your brothers. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get it…”
“Nothing to apologize for. You’ll get it one day.”
“We’ll keep trying until then. And once you do, we’ll throw you a big party.”
“Really? Will you really do that?” Your expression brightened, but your brothers’ faces darkened. They saw the shadow before you did. Saw the webbed hands reaching out, the serrated teeth glinting in a sinister smile.
And then—
Owin leaned over, his arm outstretched. So fluid was his motion that it took you by surprise. “(Name), grab on! Hurry! Before—”
The rest of his warning was muffled by the water. You hardly had any time to brace yourself when you were yanked under, your nails raking across the wood of the oar as you went with the force of the pull. Salt stung your eyes when you cracked them open, peering frantically at blurry surroundings. Teal-green specks slid silently through the shadows, mismatched eyes flicking over your form. And then there was a high, raucous sort of chittering. Like a dolphin’s cry, loud and piercing. You squeezed your eyes shut and pressed your palms against your ears.
It only lasted a few mere seconds, but it felt like an eternity trapped in the coils of a creature you couldn’t comprehend. One moment you were holding your breath and the next arms were hooked around your torso, and you were pulled up and into the belly of the rowboat. Your hands flew to your throat, and you coughed up seawater while Owin patted you.
“It’s fine. It’s…okay,” Emyr muttered, his voice shot through with fear. It was the most shaken he’d ever sounded.
Blood fogged in the water, staining the tip of his harpoon. He gazed down at his hand. A deep, jagged gash ran angrily from palm to wrist. He hissed and closed his fingers in a tight fist.
“We gotta get back,” Owin was saying, still rubbing soothing circles into your back. “I’ll row. You rest.”
“Not good,” Emyr said instead, shaking his head in dismay as he watched your attackers retreat.
“We’re still in our waters, right? We didn’t go past the boundary, did we?”
“Let’s hope not.”
“We didn’t, right?”
“Let’s hope—” Emyr paused, collecting his words. “Let’s hope those monsters were in the wrong.”
“Father’s gonna kill us.”
“If not us, the monsters.”
Both brothers looked towards you. Your tunic was torn, stained through with saltwater and blood. You shivered all the way to shore.
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Following that mishap, an official meeting was called between the Land and the Sea. The King—your father—met the Sea Queen at the border. He stood proud on his ship, peering down at her with fire in his old eyes.
“Your Majesty.”
The Sea Queen was just as formidable as those who came before her. Her tentacles unfurled as one, and if you looked at them long enough they almost seemed to take on the shape of an obsidian-colored crinoline.
“I believe my mother and your father made the terms quite clear all those years ago,” she said, a wave lifting her to meet the King at the deck of his ship. “So then, with that in mind, there should be no reason for us to meet under these circumstances.”
Emyr and Owin stood just behind their father. You peered through their legs at the Sea Queen, silently amazed. You’d never seen anyone quite like her before. At least, not a real person. You’d seen her in storybooks, depicted as a fearsome beast with devilish features, and though there was something intimidating about her gaze and build she appeared understanding enough. Her grey skin was sleek in the morning sun, her long, silvery strands tied up and pinned with an ornate hair ornament. She looked beautiful in a magical, enigmatic way.
“I couldn’t agree more,” came the clipped response of your father. “Alas, misfortune has brought us here.” He stepped aside to allow her to behold Emyr’s bandaged hand. “Harm has befallen my son and daughter. I suppose you might have an inkling as to why they find themselves in their current state?”
She frowned, but you couldn’t tell if it was out of sympathy or some other emotion. “Perhaps one of them can give reason to the wound now marring one of my subject’s sons.”
Your father glanced overboard at the snake-like merman cradled in the arms of another merman. They looked near-identical, their features unmistakable. He glanced back at Emyr, his gaze hard. “Go on then. Explain yourself.”
Emyr stepped forward. “With wholehearted respect, Your Majesty, it was out of self-defense. Your kind—they attacked us first.”
“You were in our waters!” one of the mers exclaimed, pointing a clawed finger towards Emyr. “It’s all your fault Jade got hurt!”
Owin hurried ahead, his hands gripping the taffrail. “He’s playing it up! It was a graze!”
“He could’ve died! You almost killed him!”
“That is enough,” the Sea Queen said, jutting an arm out to silence both sides. “I understand everyone is hurt here. Our feud lies in misunderstanding.” She gazed at you next. “Little one, we have yet to hear your story. Do share.”
You glanced at the guards, at Owin and Emyr, and then at father. He nodded encouragingly. “U-Um!” Shyly, you approached the Sea Queen. “My brothers were teaching me how to swim. I don’t know anything about whose water is whose. I just wanted to learn how to swim.” You met the fierce scowl of the mer holding his twin brother and quickly looked elsewhere. “He grabbed me before my brothers could pull me up.”
“Because you were trespassing. Anyone who tresspasses ought to—”
“Floyd.”
At the not-so-subtle warning in his father’s voice, he shut his mouth and snarled. His brother—Jade—was handed off to their father, who assessed his state with a frown.
“He will live, but it will take time for him to recover. My son is right. Your son could have killed him.”
“Just as your sons could have killed my sister!” Owin shouted, glaring.
Floyd stuck his tongue out, remorseless.
“It is impossible to know which side is in the wrong,” your father began, turning towards the Sea Queen. “Seeing as both have been injured, I am willing to apologize on behalf of my sons.”
“What?!” Owin’s head turned towards his father. “You’re bloody mad! Have you not seen—”
“Father,” Emyr interjected evenly. “We have nothing to apologize for. We were within our waters. We had no ill will towards the others. It was completely innocent.”
The Sea Queen hummed her contemplation. “The boundary was drawn for a reason, decided upon by those who came before us, and yet it does more harm than good. It is not for safety’s sake. It is to keep us divided—to ensure that neither side will ever know peace.”
“And you’re implying that we get rid of it?”
She nodded, quite serious. Everyone looked on in equal parts shock and disbelief. “Why do we continue to fight? It does nothing but open old wounds, rendering them incurable. Innocent lives are lost in petty squabbling. And for what?”
To that, no one could offer a smart reply.
“Therefore I propose peace. A union to welcome a new era—one in which we embrace one another as allies without animosity.”
“A union?” Your father raised a brow, suspicious but willing to listen. “I suppose it would be beneficial. My people would be free to travel the seas at their leisure.” “And mine would no longer have to live in fear of being thoughtlessly slaughtered and taken as trophies.”
“Unbelievable,” Orwin muttered.
Emyr elbowed him. “Knock it off.”
“We’ll collaborate on a contract. One that dissolves the invisible boundary that has been the cause for so much suffering. In order to attain true peace, I shall offer you my only son.” She glanced at you and then back at your father. “Your daughter shall marry him when they are of age.”
“What?! No way! Ew! Gross!” Your voice came out shrill and you shook your head in protest. “I don’t wanna marry an octopus! No, I won’t do it!”
Your father stood in front of you. “She’s my only daughter. If something were to happen—”
“Which is precisely why I bring up this engagement. Should they be betrothed, we as their parents will promise to uphold peace to give them bright futures and they will act as the first example of a human-mer alliance. Unions between humans and merfolk are unheard of, but is this not the best way to foster harmony between the Land and Sea?”
“I won’t do it! No! Don’t make me marry a gross—” Emyr gathered you in his arms, holding his uninjured hand over your mouth.
“Let the grown-ups talk.”
Owin frowned. “I still don’t agree with this…”
Your father mulled it over, his eyes glazed in thought. “Very well. We will create a contract—an official peace treaty.”
Both leaders shook hands and planned to convene at the end of the week to discuss further.
You watched the mers depart, each one slipping under the sea. Floyd was the last to go, staring at you with a mean sort of vitriol. And then he, too, dove under.
“He didn’t mean it, right?” you whispered to Emyr after your father gave the order to turn the ship around and head for land. “I won’t have to marry an octopus, right?”
Emyr could only offer a commiserate frown.
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“She’s a brat,” Floyd spits. “Stupid, evil Two Legs.”
Jade chuckles and runs his fingers over the scar. “I consider it an honor.”
“Yeah, well, I think it’s messed up. She’s the reason you can’t ever swim naturally again. While she’s up there in her pretty, little tower, safe and sound, you’re still hurting.”
“It’s not as much of a hindrance as you may think. I’m not weak, mind you.”
Floyd grumbles. “Still. She’s mean.”
Azul gazes up at the palace, sighing dreamily. “She’ll be my wife someday. That’s what humans call it, yes? Husband and wife… What wonderful words.”
It’s been one year since the peace treaty. Since then, humans and merfolk have made an effort to get along. This is the second time Azul will be meeting with you. He’s nervous. The first time you went out to sea to greet him, and he’d gotten so anxious that he inked right then and there. His mother entertained you from where you sat in the boat with your personal guard. It was a mortifying experience—one that had taken him months to recover from.
Now he’s going to try to meet you in the shallows. Try is the key word here. He’s scared, all three hearts beating as one. Is it too late to reschedule?
“I can’t believe you’re actually okay with this. You that lonely?”
Azul turns to scowl at both twins, but it’s mostly directed at Floyd. “I never asked you to tag along. Leave me alone.”
Jade smiles. “And let the Queen’s little prince swim to his death?”
“I can take care of myself.”
“Sure you can. But what about when Two Legs gets ya? What then?”
“She wouldn’t do that.”
Floyd rolls his eyes. “You saw what her brothers did to Jade.”
“Because you tried to kill her.”
“Because she was in our territory!”
Azul huffs and pushes him away with a tentacle. “Regardless, we’re supposed to be on good terms now. You’ll break the contract if you try anything dangerous.”
“He’s right, Floyd.”
“Ugh. Whatever.” Floyd turns away, stubborn. “This is lame. I’m not stickin’ around.”
Jade lingers long enough to observe the way Azul lights up when he spots you on the stone steps. And then he disappears beneath the water.
Barefoot, holding your dress up and out of the way, you pad across the beach.
“Why are you here? I’m busy. My brothers are taking me into town.”
The smile that had been fighting to break out on his face frosts over. “Oh. I… Um…” Azul fumbles with the conch shell he’d collected on the way here. A gift for you. He made sure to study human speech patterns in the months leading up to this meeting. He’s fully prepared! And yet you look so displeased. “F-For you! I found it…”
You stare at the shell clutched in a dark tentacle. Tentatively, you reach for it. “Why?”
“Ah. W-Well, my mother says gifts are an important part of any bond. In the sea, we give gifts to the ones we care about. To friends and family and o-other halves…”
You turn the shell over in your hands. “We’re not friends.”
“Not yet,” he tries, but you shake your head.
“You ran away from me the last time we met. That’s not very friendly.”
His face flushes blue and he opens his mouth to argue, but nothing comes out. It wasn’t on purpose.
You’re already turning on your heel. “I don’t have time for this.” You toss the shell over your shoulder. Azul watches it land in the sand, just out of his grasp.
“W-Wait! I… I want to talk to you. Please don’t go. You’re going to be my other half one day, so I’d like to—”
But you’re already dashing across the beach to get to the stairs.
Azul deflates against the rock. Tears overflow in floods. Is it because of him? Is he to blame? Why don’t you want to be his friend? Is it because of the peace treaty? Why?
Why? Why? Why?
Azul doesn’t want to think negatively of you. Humans are sensitive creatures. He reads up on them in the palace library, poring over literature and textbooks in an effort to better understand you. But as the months pass and you seem to simply tolerate him for the sake of the alliance, he begins to suspect something.
It’s made apparent the next time he sees you, where you walk right past the beach to catch up with your brothers. He hides behind the rocks, two blue eyes following your figure until you’re out of sight.
Floyd was right. You are a brat.
And yet he can’t hate you.
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On the eve of your eighteenth birthday, Azul meets you in the shallows.
Nowadays you send letters, preferring strained long distance over the personal intimacy of face-to-face relations. These exchanges are purely diplomatic. But now that he’s asked to meet with you, a rare occurrence, you’ve deigned to greet him in person. It’s the least you can do after he’s gone through the trouble to travel here. It’s been so long since you’ve seen him that he’s almost unrecognizable. You remember the round, baby-faced octo-mer from your childhood. The one who lounges against the rocks is leaner now—his features defined, jawline as sharp as his eyes. They cut through the gloom to find you.
“You wished to see me?” You’re in your nightwear, a silky gown with an even softer robe. A cool breeze blows across the beach, and you wrap your arms around yourself for extra warmth. “Azul?”
He hesitates, his gaze trailing up your legs. You’ve also changed a lot in the time you’ve been apart. You’ve grown taller, filling out in places he didn’t know humans could fill. What he’d give to hold you… His mother says he needs to be patient. Fickle thing that you are, you’re the reason he’s spent six years trying to appease you through letters—to win you over and be anything more than that “annoying octopus” you’re doomed to marry. Perhaps it would have been easier to act just as you do if it weren’t for the fact that he’d been elated at the premise of having someone to love. When his mother broached the idea in the days following her meeting with the Land King, he’d stared at her with wide, excited eyes.
“There’s a human girl who wants to be my friend?” he asked, to which his mother smiled and nodded.
More than a friend, actually, but then all he was focused on was finally getting to experience the one thing he’d never known or had: friendship.
Sighing, he foregoes formality and holds out a necklace. It dangles from the tip of his tentacle. Strung on a dainty, silver strand, pearls wink back at you under the moonlight. Azul averts his eyes, his cheeks a pleasant periwinkle.
“Happy birthday…”
“Oh.” You move in closer, taking the necklace from him. His tentacle pursues you, twining delicately around your wrist. “Um… What is it? Do you need—whoa!”
Azul tugs you closer. The sea laps at your ankles. Beneath a tapestry of stars, you meet his azure stare. His features are set with a determination you’ve never seen before.
“I want to start over.”
“Start over?”
“I’d like to be on friendly terms with you. We’re so cold. Distant…” Azul frowns, seeming unsure of what to say or do next. The tentacle laced around your wrist like a bracelet tightens its hold. “We’re to be wed one day. I want to make this work.”
You blink at him. He thinks he may have gotten through to you, having finally broken through layers of stone and ice, but then your nose scrunches and odium shimmers in your gaze.
“That’s impossible. I’m a human. How am I supposed to live with an octopus?” You shake him off with a huff. “I’m not sure what our parents think this will accomplish. I don’t want to be a pawn to be moved around for the sake of peace. I’m my own person.”
Azul’s expression sours. His lip curls up into a sneer. “Well, I don’t find it very enjoyable either. You’re not the only victim in this scenario.”
You exhale an exhausted breath. “Azul, I appreciate the gift, but it doesn’t mean anything if you’re only giving it to me to curry favor.”
I wasn’t, he thinks, but he doesn’t say that. Admitting it would be a weakness. Admitting it would mean coming to terms with an unrequited opinion.
“At least one of us is making a conscious effort.”
“At least one of us isn’t trying so hard. It’s pathetic.”
“You’re not obligated to accept my goodwill.” He smiles, smug. “Yet you do every time. I’d wager you enjoy my materialistic affections.”
“As if.” Despite this, you hold the necklace out of his reach when a tentacle flexes towards it. “It’s mine now.”
“So you are fond of my ‘pathetic’ ways!”
“I’m not!”
You jerk away with a vicious scowl, but your foot catches in the sand and you quickly find yourself tipping backwards. If not for the tentacles that coil around your waist to steady you, you would have fallen on your rear. Your chest heaves with adrenaline. Stunned, you stare at Azul.
“You…caught me,” you breathe, lips parted in awe.
“Did you think I’d let you fall?” He cocks his head at you, grinning playfully. “Why, I’d never! Unless it’s me you’re falling for, in which case I gladly welcome the—”
“You’re such a pest.” Untangling yourself from his grasp, which he allows without scrimmage, you step away from the water’s edge. He watches you secure the pearls around your neck, and his hearts stumble in his chest when you point an accusatory finger at him. “Don’t delude yourself with foolish nonsense. I have no interest in you.”
With an indignant harrumph, you start towards the palace.
“May we meet here tomorrow?” Azul calls out after you, testing his luck with what little chance he has.
“Don’t push it.”
“I’ll wait for you.”
“Good. Keep waiting, dummy!” You break into a sprint, hurrying off into the shadows.
Azul smiles at the empty beach. Whether or not you like him, it doesn’t matter. You’re to be his one day. You’ve always been, ever since he was eleven.
He’ll wait, even if you won’t show.
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Ostensibly, twenty-one years wise, you’re getting married today.
Your gown is just as exquisite as your hair and makeup. Pearls cling to your throat and arms—classic wedding attire for merfolk. A thin veil shields the scheme in your stare.
This was an inevitability, but you’re determined to fight it until the end. No matter how quickly time seems to pass, you’ll do everything you can to stall and slow it.
Gripping a sharpened dagger in a resolute fist, you drag it through the long, sprawling train of your gown.
“As if I’d marry an octopus,” you grumble, cutting fine fabric until you’re permitted smoother movement. Gazing at yourself in the mirror, you scowl. “I’m no one’s bride.”
By the time the maids arrive to check on you, you’ve already stolen out the window.
The rowboat sways on choppy water. You’ve watched your brothers do this enough times to have the technique engraved in your memory. Your arms strain with the oars, every muscle screaming in protest, but you fight through the pain. The palace looks smaller and smaller with every passing minute. Eventually, you’re so far out that the land is but a mere speck.
It’s going well. You’re escaping towards a better future—a future without the octopus prince.
You glance towards the horizon. Your boat undulates with the waves.
You’ll miss your brothers, your maids, your personal guard…
Water slops over the edge. You yelp, startled. Have the seas always been so rough?
Despite everything, you’ll miss your father.
Just as you think this, your boat rocks to the side. You grab onto the edge to steady yourself, but it’s already too late. It tips over and you go with it, careening into the sea with a noisy splash. Twin shadows cut seamlessly through the murky water. You catch sight of a yellow eye before you propel yourself towards the sky, coughing and heaving once you break the surface. You grab onto the overturned rowboat, your dagger clutched in one hand.
You search the surface for them, eyes flicking to and fro in a frantic panic.
Somewhere… Anywhere… Where are you?
And then you find them, peering at you from the other side of the boat.
“Go on then,” you spit, glaring. “Kill me.”
Floyd bares his teeth at you. “This time I ain’t gonna leave a scar.”
“You know we mustn’t. That’s not why we’re here.” Jade smiles at you, but there’s something in his eyes that unnerves you. “Your Highness, you should know it’s poor manners to leave the groom on his special day.”
Floyd circles you restlessly. “S’not fair we gotta be nice when you’re so mean.”
“I’m not going to marry him.”
“I’m afraid you don’t have a choice in that matter.”
“What’d Azul ever do to you?”
You attempt to answer that before realizing the truth. Nothing. He’s done absolutely nothing but be kind and understanding and patient. And I took that, chewed it up, and spat in his face.
“If you used that brain of yours, you wouldn’t have thrown yourself to the sharks. We can’t get to you on land.” “But it’s fair game in the sea,” Floyd finishes, every syllable dripping with pride. “Stupid Two Legs.”
“I’m inclined to agree. You’re not the brightest human. A pity.”
“My brother should’ve gutted you when he had the chance. Maybe then—”
You see the whites of Floyd’s eyes when he strikes, launching himself at you with a clawed hand, sharp, pointed teeth aiming for your jugular.
This is it. You’re dead.
…or not.
The searing pain never comes, nor does the impending laceration. You cling to the boat and watch dark tentacles rise from the depths to close around Floyd, ensnaring him in a firm hold. He thrashes, snapping his jaws like a deranged beast.
“Let go of me, Azul! Lemme at her! She’s a bitch! I’ll kill her!”
“There will be none of that.” Azul tuts. “I don’t intend to marry a corpse.”
Jade swims over to you. “My feelings aren’t hurt in the slightest, Your Highness. If it weren’t for your status and connection to Azul, I’d have disemboweled you ages ago. Quite a relief for you, yes?”
You swallow your horror, allowing him to detach you from the boat so that Azul can turn it over. A tentacle curls around your waist, lifts you from the water, and places you back in the boat. You stare at your hands. They’re trembling. You can hardly hold the dagger properly.
It takes some convincing and a lukewarm apology from you, but Floyd promises to be good. He doesn’t do anything as you’re pulled back to shore, but he does stare at you for the duration of the trip, his eyes tracking your every movement. You press yourself into the belly of the boat, defeated and riddled with anxiety.
Your father isn’t pleased. When you see his enraged expression, the debate dies on your tongue. “You are to marry the prince,” he seethes, pulling you aside, “or else you jeopardize the peace of our kingdom.”
You’re washed and fitted in a new dress. Guards are stationed at all possible routes to prevent another escape.
When you walk down the beach to meet Azul in the shallows, your veil shields the sadness in your stare.
The ceremony carries on without incident. Floyd watches from the water, lurking like Death. You speak rehearsed vows in robotic monotone, mindlessly floating through the rigmarole like it’s second nature. Azul smiles at you through it all, sweetly smitten.
It’s a nightmare lived in real time.
Humans and mers alike congratulate you, cheering for this momentous occasion. Your tongue is numb by the end of it all. You’ve expressed faux gratitude so many times that it hurts to even force the words. And now, as night descends and the party kicks into full swing, you’re left reflecting on the day.
Freedom feels so far away. You’ll never know it again, will you?
Azul guides you away from the crowd. Firelight grows dim with the distance. Eventually, you find yourself taking refuge in a tiny inlet cut into the beach. A rocky outcrop hides you from the moon’s spotlight.
“I’m not upset,” Azul murmurs, curling a tentacle up your leg. “But Floyd is.”
“His brother’s the one who hurt me all those years ago.”
“That was before the union.”
“I’m not letting it go.”
“Perhaps not now, but you will. One day.”
You don’t believe him.
“Our people are at peace. Aren’t you pleased, my love?”
You shove him away, gathering heaps of your dress to walk in calf-deep water. “I’m not your love.”
“Legally, you are.”
“That means nothing to me. Absolutely nothing.”
Azul sighs. “Even now, after everything, you’re still trying to flee.”
“For good reason. I don’t want to be tied down.”
Azul inches closer. Another tentacle wraps slyly around your ankle.
“You’re so beautiful. I feel like the luckiest mer in the sea. To be able to call you my own… My beautiful bride.” He pulls you closer. You resist weakly. “Now that we’re alone I can finally tell you the very thing I’ve thought of ceaselessly for years.”
A tentacle slides up your leg, straying closer to your inner thigh. You flinch away.
“Azul, wait. I don’t want—”
“I love you.”
You squirm in his hold, attempting to thwart the tentacles that grab at your every limb. You trip over yourself in the process. This time Azul doesn’t catch you. Water laps at your dress, soaking through at once. He’s radiant beneath the moon. Dreading his touch, you scoot as far from him as you can get in the water, hoping to reach land. Azul seizes your wrist and pulls you into his arms. You fight him with more force.
“No… No, let go of me! Release me!”
“Why should I? You’re mine now. Is it not customary for a married couple to consummate their new bond? We do something similar in the sea.” A tentacle brushes your veil back so that he can look upon your pretty face. “I’d take you to a quiet space in the seagrass, lay you down in the sand, and then—”
“I don’t want that! No!” You lash out, swinging blindly. A tentacle shoots out to stop your arm before it can smack him. “Azul, please—”
“I was patient. I waited and waited in hopes that you might warm up to me. I cherished you in silence. I learned your language. Your customs. Your habits. I wrote to you. Traveled to meet you. And yet you look at me as if I’m a monster…”
It’s not the devastated look in his eyes or the edge in his voice that scares you. It’s the startling gentleness with which he handles you. Tentacles loop around your body, exploring beneath your gown. You wriggle in discomfort, yelping when suckers brush against the frilly garter secured around your thigh. Azul hums and holds you up in his tentacles, using two to spread your legs so that he may slide it from your leg.
“I wasn’t forceful. I courted you kindly. You accepted all of my gifts. You wore them proudly and I thought—I knew you would love me, too. You were mine from the moment our parents signed that agreement. And if you leave me, you’ll break a political promise and then our kingdoms will go to war and I’ll be sure to collect the heads of your family first. Each one of them, and you will watch as I bring ruin to the kingdom you love so fondly.”
“N-No… Please stop. Please.”
“I’ve waited ten years for you.” A tentacle hooks around your panties. You thrash again, shaking your head at him. He remains unconvinced, watching with gleeful eyes as your nudity is revealed to him. “And aren’t you an angel? Oh, you’re so pretty…”
Like your hopes, your panties are cast aside.
The tip of a tentacle prods curiously at your pussy. Your breath hitches.
“W-Wait! You… You can’t.” His eyes find yours, and you swallow the rising sob. “T-That can’t go inside… It won’t fit. It won’t—”
Azul smiles. “Of course it will. The human body is capable of marvelous feats.”
Even though it’s pointless, you struggle. “I can’t! Please… Azul, I’m scared. Please don’t do this…”
A lone tentacle slides into your hand. Thoughtless, you hold tight.
“My love, there’s no need to cry. I’m not going to hurt you.” He brings you closer, kissing your tears away. “I’m here for you. I’ve always been here, even when you didn’t seem to need me.”
You hiccup, your chest heaving. It’s not lonely for long, for he pulls your dress down your shoulders. Your breasts spill free and are quickly cradled in cold hands. Azul watches your expression with an intense focus while he rolls your nipples between his fingers. You grit your teeth, refusing to respond. But then the tentacle between your legs finds your clit and a sucker affixes to it, suctioning slowly. You gasp and throw your head back, bolts of pleasure racing up your spine. It happens in a white-hot flash. You slacken in his grasp.
Azul laughs, astonished. “Did you cum? Already?”
“Nooo,” you whine, closing your hand around the tentacle once more. Another one strokes your cheek. “You’ve had your fun. Now let go of me…”
“What a silly demand.”
He tugs on your nipples. You groan, lashes fluttering. “Ooh… Stop. No, stop it… Don’t touch there. Not—haa… Not there!”
“You’re so sensitive.” He drags the underside of a tentacle along your cunt and shivers. “And so wet… Is this your season? Do humans experience such a thing?”
You’ve no idea what he’s referring to, but before you can dwell on it he leans down to take your perky bud in his mouth. Your free hand grabs at his hair, pinning him to your chest. His tongue laves across it, warm and wet. You shouldn’t enjoy it so much, and yet you can’t stop yourself from crying out.
He hums against your skin, beaming like a devil. You can’t hate him. He’s your husband. He’s yours. You shouldn’t hate him.
You’re falling apart in his tentacles, grinding down to chase the bliss provided by the underside of the appendage clinging to your pussy. The sinful squelch of skin on skin fills the quiet inlet. The scent of sex and salt intermingles. It’s wrong and it’s right. It’s instinct, carnal and corrupt. Azul groans against your breast, your teat between his teeth.
“Az—ooh!” You tug on his hair, insatiable. Your brain is fogging over with lust. You don’t want to lose yourself in this madness. You can’t. “N-No more… No more.” 
But he’s not listening. He pinches your other nipple between his fingers, and that’s all it takes for you to unravel.
In the aftermath, the tapered tip of a thicker tentacle squirms between your thighs. Mindlessly, you spread your legs and lift your hips for him. It presses in shallowly, a jarring experience.
“Not inside—don’t! You can’t!”
Azul pulls away from you, his expression scrunched in woozy ecstasy. “Why not?” he mumbles, smiling stupidly. “You’re my bride. It’s only fair…”
Before you can bicker, he kisses you. His tongue pursues yours in a sloppy tango. You lick into his mouth, desperate and dazed. Lost in a sea of salacity, shipwrecked on an island of forgotten inhibitions.
The tentacle pushes through rings of tight, slick muscle. Tears spring to your eyes. It feels weird and foreign, so unlike your fingers. He holds you close, minding his strength and pace. It fills you slowly, reaching places you’ve never been able to feel. The lust numbs your senses and gives way to something animalistic—a base desire you’ve suppressed. Azul rocks the appendage deeper until it’s pushed up against the entrance to your womb, squeezed snugly in your warm walls.
“I-It’s in…” you mumble once he’s broken the kiss, a strand of saliva connecting your mouths. “It’s really…inside me…”
Azul kisses your cheek and pets you with a tentacle. “We were made for each other.”
Surely not, you think, but it feels so when he draws back and thrusts in. Maybe he’s right.
He fucks you gently, savoring every single sound you make. He tells you he loves you, whispers it over and over like it’s prayer. You nod dumbly, grabbing at his hand to hold it. The both of you are gasping in unison, chasing cloud nine. In just a few more deep strokes, his tip bullying its way to your womb, he finally finds his end. A thin substance fills you up in plentiful amounts. Distantly, you think it’s water until he drags your hips further down. Your mouth drops open in a strangled scream as something round and gelatinous passes through. It settles in your womb, and you know right away that it shouldn’t be there.
You panic. “W-Wait… Wha—Zul… Stop… No, I don’t want—”
“It’s all right,” he breathes, his mouth on your shoulder. He soothes you with soft shushes and even softer kisses. “You’re okay. I’m here.”
You dig your nails into the tentacle curled in your palm just as a second orb squeezes through. He groans, his eyes squeezed shut.
“Finally…” He pants, a wobbly smile stretching on his delirious countenance. “Finally, my love, my dear—oh, my beloved bride!”
He cradles you like a mother would a newborn. You lie there as he fills you, your voice hoarse from babbling and bewailing. These things—little orbs of jelly—are stuffed into your womb, and by the time you surpass twenty you lose count and blank out, trembling through yet another orgasm. You’re not sure how many more he has left or how many more you can possibly fit. It feels too good to think about that.
“Bigger. They’ll get bigger. You’ll look so pretty—round and full and soft.”
Dizzy, you glance at the bloated dome that is your belly. Your gown strains over it, an impressively deceptive size that you almost mistake for pregnancy. That’s when it clicks. Eggs. These are eggs.
“I’ll make sure they survive. All of them—as many as I possibly can. I’ll stay by your side. I’ll keep you content. I’ll fill you with love—so much love—an abundance of it, and you’ll never know emptiness again,” he rambles, resting a tentacle over your distended middle.
It’s not just a senseless sweet nothing. It’s a promise.
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mikatoonist · 10 months
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heart eyes for dizzy 😍💕
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meowpupp · 5 months
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chubby!puppygirl x owner!price
Price is getting older, retired from the SAS now. his work never allowed him to settle down meaning no wife, no girlfriend, not even a casual hookup. so after hours of stroking his cock to puppygirl porn, he decides he should get one for himself. maybe make some home videos.
he browses local shelters. most the pup hybrids are the same. all thin and muscular. their bodies profiled by sharp angles and sharper teeth. then he sees you.
your picture is sweet. a sweet smile, floppy ears, sharp eyes. your tail is blur, clearly wagging it at the time they took your picture. he clicks on your profile, he has to know more.
‘one of our newer rescues! she’s a sweet girl, but too smart for her own good! this pup would best be suited to a household that can give her lots of attention and training to avoid misbehaviour. ’
a smile quirks at his lips. perfect. pretty, smart, and a little needy.
you’ve got a soft body- rolls and curves that he desperately wants to grope. he can imagine it now, you’d be sat pretty in his lap cockwarming him. he’d stretch your tight cunt, grope and squeeze at your tits, slap your clit when you squirm.
within a week, he’s adopted you.
the first few weeks fly by. a month in and you’re fully settled. price treats you well, extremely well. praises almost everything you do, constantly pets and kisses you, feeds you the highest quality food. devours your cunt every night.
he’s made you drunk on him. every morning you wake up nuzzled in his arms. within ten minutes he’s shoved his fingers into your soft cunt, rutting his hips into your ass. prices voice low and growl as he praises you; “fuck, pup. so fuckin wet for me. my good girl. cmon, cum for me, show me how needy you are.”
afterwards, he feeds you. makes you whatever you like. once youre full and happy, tail wagging back and forth, he shoves you under the table. sits you on your knees between his legs. price tangles a hand in your hair, eases himself into your throat. your ‘morning treat.’
breakfast is followed by a walk. he is ex-military, old habits die hard. by the time you get back, you’re sweaty, body worn out and tired. ready for a shower.
this is prices favourite time of day. he takes you into the shower, gently washes your body. soaps you up in sweet smelling bubbles, washes you down with warm water.
the whole time, he’s squeezing your soft body. knows exactly where to grope you to make you squeak.
the part he loves the most though? when he spreads your chubby thighs, changes the shower setting, and sprays water directly on your clit. he bites and sucks the fat of your tits, grumbles against the soft skin.
“cmon pup, gotta make sure you’re clean. be a good girl, spread your legs f’me… atta girl”
every moment of your day, you’re lavished with attention and praise. so when you act up, break the rules, disrespect him? his punishments hit hard.
he gets up before you do, already gone on his morning run. he makes you food, but leaves it on the bench. he doesn’t so much as look at you for the first half of the day, let alone speak a word.
it’s only when you’re crying at his feet, grinding your wet aching cunt against his boot that he bothers to look at you.
with a hand in your hair, he tilts your head. the sight of tears running down your chubby cheeks making him rock fucking hard.
he uses the other hand to squish your cheeks together, eyes stern and cold, voice flat as he speaks. “What did you do wrong?”
he doesn’t let go, making you talk through a forced pout. he waits until you’re begging and sobbing, eyes needy and desperate before he gives in.
price pulls you up over his knee, big hands a little too rough with you. he pushes your panties down, exposing your cunt. lets out a groan as he slowly toys with your soft clit. you’re fucking dripping.
“Mhm, i know puppy. you’re sorry. didn’t mean to make me mad, huh?” he smirks as you nod. he’s practically drooling at how your thighs surround his hand, the fat burying it.
he waits till you're relaxed before he pulls his hand back, delivering a stinging spank. he keeps his other on your neck, forcing you still.
Price continues to spank you, making you count each one. grinding his tent against your tummy as he turns your ass red, only getting harder as your tears wet his jeans.
he makes you count in intervals of ten. spanks you red and raw, then after 10, strokes your pretty pussy. he gets you nice and relaxed, acts as if it’s over, then repeats.
he only stops once you’re shaking and sobbing, his jeans completely soaked with slick and tears.
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clini-calia · 2 years
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cruiseboost · 6 months
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just some guy redraws
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toxicanonymity · 4 months
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being bad and looking good.
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2.8k, raider!Joel (dark) x f!reader | Raider Master SUMMARY: You look hot but get punished for acting up. WARNINGS: I8+ dubcon unsafe P in V, possessive Joel, creampie, manhandling, angst, joel makes you cry, rough, spanking, choking. He's a bad guy, not a kink practitioner: no rules. He cares, and you enjoy the dique, but you're captive. A/N: HYPOTHETICAL because I didn't want to figure out where to place it in the timeline. Set vaguely in the past. This is for a lingerie ask as well as readers who have requested feral/mad Joel or sweet pea being bad. @javier-penas-wifexx420 @arcanefox207 IMMERSABILITY: Reader has hair that can be held/pulled. Joel can lift reader. Reader has no height/size, so fill in the blanks for whether he has to bend his knees to enter you, etc.
Joel lets it slip how close the abandoned mall is, and you can't stop thinking about going there. You want to get something for him.  He always brings you things and you never have anything to give him other than food you've foraged and flowers for the trailer. One day, you insist it would be fine with Joel if you go to the mall. You make it sound like you've discussed it. Carter is skeptical, but he feels bad for you. He finally breaks down and agrees to take you. 
When you're there, you're walking through the mall and notice Carter's head turn all the way toward a particular storefront as you walk by. You wouldn't have noticed it otherwise. He keeps the same stride, but you slow down to look.
It's a lingerie store. Most of the mannequins are bare or have clothes hanging off them, but there are huge, fading posters with women of all shapes and sizes sporting lace teddies, babydolls, bralettes, strappy garters, and the floor is littered with them. 
Carter sighs when he realizes you've stopped at the store. 
As he slowly walks back to you, scratching the back of his neck, you ask, “Do you think Joel would like it if I had something from here?” The question feels almost rhetorical, but there's that bit of insecurity, too. 
“Uh, I dunno. Sure, I guess.” Carter doesn't seem comfortable. He agrees to let you go in for just a minute to see if you find something, but you have to stay in view. And you think you do. It's a two piece with a sheer, strappy top. The bottom is more modest than a thong, but it has a slit in the crotch that makes you clench your thighs together thinking about Joel.
—-
When you get home, you put it on in the bathroom so you can look at yourself in the mirror. You think it looks good, but it's not a full-length view. And you're not quite sure if it's fitting right. How much tit is supposed to be showing? How tight should it be? You put the flannel back on, but leave it open when you come out. You feel a little more covered than you are, since the nature of the fabric shows a lot. 
Carter's sitting at the kitchen table casually shuffling a deck of cards.  He looks at you for only a split second before his face hardens, and he abruptly looks away. “Jesus,” he drops the cards on the table, and the chair groans against the floor as he stands up. “The hell are ya doin’?” he awkwardly turns around, pulling up on his pants a little. 
“I just wanna know if it looks-”
“--'m sure it looks great,” Carter runs his hands through his hair in distress as he looks out the window.  Then, he tightly crosses his arms, and they stretch his sleeves even more. “Now get outta here,” he tells you. He rocks forward onto his toes, then back, waiting for you to leave. 
Is he mad? You step further into the kitchen and try to meet his eyes in the reflection. 
His voice is stern. “Go put some goddamn clothes on.” 
“Sorry, I wasn't–”
“Now.” He means it. You stand there stunned for a moment with your lip quivering. He's never been angry at you before. 
“NOW.” He points toward Joel's room, veins bulging on his hand and arm. He doesn't turn around to look at you, but you see the flush from his cheeks creeping onto his neck and ears.  
You go to your room and sniffle as you button the flannel. Then you put on a pair of shorts, curl up on the bed, and cry. 
After a few minutes, there's a soft knock on the bedroom door. “Ya’okay?” 
You only sniffle, “I'm sorry,” in response. 
Carter sighs. “I shouldn'ta snapped at ya, darlin’. But ya just – can't do that, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Shit, you're a pretty girl, okay? But it ain't my business how ya look. . .in somethin’ like that.” 
“. . .I know, I wasn't thinking.”
“Now, if you're dressed and wanna play rummy, I’ll deal. . .”
You smile to yourself through your tears. 
—--
You dry your eyes and come out to the kitchen, but something in the air is different as you pull out a chair and sit down.
“Carter, please forget it,” you plead and try to get him to look at you. It feels like you broke something.
He finally makes eye contact and forces a little smile. Then he concentrates on the cards as he deals. “Two, two, three, three,” he counts the cards out loud for each of you as he deals. He finishes, and while you're studying the hand you’re dealt, it's quiet. In the corner of your eye, Carter's gaze falls to your now fully-covered chest, but he quickly pulls his eyes away and looks straight down, fidgeting with his cards. You feel awful. What if he can’t look at you the same? It was stupid to try to show him. Of course it would look good to Joel, he likes everything on (and off) you.
______
When Joel gets home, you're in the bedroom alone, sitting on the bed in the lingerie and flannel. As he enters through the kitchen, his boots are heavy on the linoleum. Your heart races with a moment of doubt - how are you going to explain this? But he bursts in the room grumbling, “goddamn Harold, tryin’ to get us all killed.”  He takes his shirt off over his back, tosses it to the laundry, and looks at you. He pauses and devours the view for a few seconds before he slowly approaches, chest heaving.
He looms over you as you sit on the bed. He uses both hands to nudge the flannel off your shoulders, and it pools behind you. You take your arms out of it. He grabs a tit and rests his other hand on the nape of your neck, thumb brushing the curve of your skull. His chest lets out a low growl as he feels you. Then his fingers trail up the strap on one shoulder. He plucks it and it snaps against your skin.
Joel’s face darkens as he asks, “Where’d it come from?” When you don’t answer fast enough, his hand traces up your throat. A chill spreads across your chest. His thumb brushes the side of your neck, then slides over to lift your chin and make you look at him. “Where.”
“I wanted to do something you’d like.”
“Where,” he repeats, then clenches his jaw, waiting. 
“You said the mall wasn’t far, so–”
He raises his voice. “You went to the mall? Where was Carter?”
“It’s okay, he was there, even found a part for the van in the parking lot.” 
Joel’s nostrils flare, and he grips your jaw. “Carter took you to the mall.” 
Your eyes water with panic. “No, it wasn’t his idea--”
“To buy somethin’ like this.” 
“I wanted to get you something. I didn’t know they had this stuff —”
“He's got no business takin’ ya anywhere. And sure as hell not somewhere sexy.”
You're worried for Carter and grateful he’s not around. “I swore the mall was okay, that you wouldn’t mind. I didn’t know there was somewhere sexy,” your voice trails off. 
Joel shakes his head, nostrils flaring. “You don't say what's okay. You don't KNOW what's okay. Get up.” 
He forces you to your feet then turns you around.
“I thought you'd like it,” you sniffle. “You always do things for me.”
“He grabs your ass, lifting your butt cheek and lets it drop. He clicks his tongue. “well, I sure don't like how ya got it.”
“I'm sorry”
“Think ya need a reminder who's in charge here.”
“I know,” you sniffle in agreement, sensing what's coming. He sits down on the bed and manhandles you into lying face down over his knees. You feel a twinge of arousal even before he shifts your position and your hip brushes the hard shape in his jeans. 
You hold your breath as he brings his hand back, then it lands with a sting and you yelp at the force. You bury your mouth in your arm as he brings his hand back again. He repeats it on the other cheek and you let out a muffled whimper that sounds more aroused than you should be. 
“Like bein’ bad?” He asks, then spanks you again. 
“No.” 
His hand lands with a sting one more time and stays on your skin to grab the plush of your burning skin. “Ya like this?”
“. . .I dunno,” you whimper, unsure of the right answer.
He feels between your legs, his thick finger finding  a damp slit in the cotton crotch of the lacy underwear. He slips a finger inside the garment, giving you a shock of need when his knuckle nudges your dripping hole.  “Ya do, don't ya? Get up.” He grabs your arm and stands up, forcing you to your feet. He holds your hair and stares you down sternly. “This ain't for fun, baby, it's your safety” He lets go of your hair and looms closer. “Understand?”
You nod and reflexively back up. Something tells you it's not just about your safety. 
“AND Carter's. You tryin' to make me hurt’m?” He asks. Joel gets closer and you keep backing up toward the wall. 
“No,” you sob. “Please don't. He’s good, so good, he wouldn't even look at me. He respects you so much”
A new rage flashes across Joel's face and he lowers his voice. “He wouldn't . . .even . . .look at ya,” he mutters too calmly for your comfort. He takes a deep breath, looks you up and down again, puts his hand on your chest, fingers spread wide, and walks you harshly into the wall. His bare chest heaves. ”But ya gave him the chance, didn't ya,” Joel nods. You've dug your hole so much deeper. 
“I was only thinking about–” Joel’s hand comes to your neck as you croak out, “--you.” You don't know what you were thinking. Joel doesn't either. He slowly shakes his head, nostrils flaring. 
He pins you with his hips, and his hard cock digs into your front, making you gush.  
“Forget who ya belong to?”
“No,” you whimper. “I’m yours.”
He pulls his hips back and quickly unfastens his pants. You bite your lip to keep from moaning at the sight of his cock. It nudges under the bottom hem of the lingerie top to reach your body. You feel his skin hit your lower belly, and it makes you weak with desire. “Only wanna be yours.”
He kicks your feet apart to spread your legs, and he brings his lips to your hair. “Then ya do what I say. Understand?” 
“Yes sir,” you whisper, then he shoves his hand between your legs, using two fingers to spread the slit in the fabric of the crotch. 
“‘s’for your own good,” he adds. 
He nudges the slit with his cockhead. The fabric doesn’t open wide enough, so he rips the slit more, then you feel his tip at your wet little hole.  He holds his cock in line, then grabs your ass and shoves up into you all at once, bottoming out. The force makes your back and shoulders drag up the wall. With your feet now off the ground, your knees bend, cradling his hips. He holds you by your ass, adjusts your weight, and your back is against the wall. You balance your arms around his neck. His thick cock retreats then punches into you again. 
He's so thick, each time he pushes in, it feels like he’s taking up your whole body. He’s not looking at you; he’s looking past you. The grip of his fingers hurts enough to feel good, to feel his desperation, how much he has to have you–for him and only him. 
He grunts and growls and breathes heavily, stomach heaving against you. “You're mine, sweet pea.”
“I am,” you agree. 
“No one else can have ya.” His words get broken with the force of his thrusts.  “No one else can see ya.”
“I know.”
You moan as he buries his length in you roughly, and he mutters “goddamn,” tightening his grip on your ass. You’re overwhelmed by the fullness of his cock, his skin against yours, his breath in your hair, his body pinning you there. All of it makes your insides swell with mounting pleasure. 
“I love being yours,” you pant. 
He fucks you in relative silence for about two minutes, the room filled only with the sounds of his brutish grunts and unbridled sighs, your little moans and whimpers, and the squelch of his stiff cock pumping in and out of your dripping cunt.
He adjusts your weight and looks down at your body from time to time, letting your upper back rest against the wall as he rails into you. You’re reassured that he likes the fit, at least. Your legs wrap loosely around him. 
The pressure in your lower belly builds with each grunt, each thrust of his cock. Soon, his breath becomes shaky and the drag of his cock quickens. Then he bottoms out sharply with a groan, drawing a sigh from you as he begins to pulse. He thrusts into you slower, more controlled, and you rock slowly against the wall. The rhythmic swell of his shaft within your walls and the warm seed spilling from his tip make you clench around him. You moan his name, tighten your legs, and he sighs as your cunt chokes his cock. 
When his balls are empty, he slides out, and the fabric pulls with his cock as he withdraws and lets you down to the floor.
—-
Joel sighs, crams his wet cock into his pants, and fastens them again.
“You okay?” He asks, catching his breath. 
“Yeah,” you mutter. “Where are you going?”
“Gonna pay Carter a visit, down at the house.”
“Please, Joel, it was all my fault,” you beg. “Don’t do it.” 
“Ain’t gonna kill’m. This time.” You still don’t like the look on his face. 
You follow him across the room, reach for his arm, and your fingers land lightly on his inner elbow. He pauses, still without his shirt on, and looks down at your hand on his elbow. He turns around, reads your face, then goes over to the bed without a word. He sits and manspreads.  “I was desperate to make you happy,” you plead, fidgeting with the hem of your top.
Joel scrunches his face. “Ya do make me happy, sweet pea.”
“He didn't even wanna take me,” you insist.
“Then he’s gotta learn to say no.” 
You hesitantly come closer, unsure if he’ll turn you away, but he lets you between his legs, then you sit on his thigh and keep fidgeting with the hem of your top. 
“He says no all the time,” you assure Joel. 
“Does he,” Joel mutters skeptically.
“I made it like he would've been saying no to you.” 
Joel shakes his head, looking at your mouth. “That ain't right, but he knows better, baby.” 
“He yelled at me,” you offer, hoping it doesn't make things worse.
Joel's brow furrows and his tone sharpens. “Ya gotta stop lyin’, now. It's pissin’ me off.”
“I'm not! He was mad.”
“Oh yeah? What'd he yell?” 
“Told me to go away and put on some clothes.” 
Joel’s chin lifts to look at the ceiling and he takes a deep breath, then looks at you. “What the hell got into ya, huh?”
“I dunno,” you mumble. “Feel like I'm going crazy, stuck here all day.” Joel looks at you. “But you take good care of me,” you clarify, “and I love it here.” 
But that’s not what Joel’s thinking about. 
“Wanna fuck him? Suck his dick?”
“No!” You're on the verge of tears again. “God, Joel, please don't talk like that.” Your face is scrunched up in pain. 
“Then don't act like it.”
“I was–okay, I get it.”
Joel is quiet for a few seconds, then asks, “What if I told ya to suck his dick?” 
“No!”
“You'd say no to me?” 
“I’d ask if I really have to.” 
Joel's face slowly softens, like you found the only acceptable answer. “And why’s that?”
“Cause I only want yours.” 
“Hm,” Joel nods. 
“Please, Joel. Stay here, don't go to him. . .you can talk to him tomorrow.”
You put your arms around Joel's neck and study his pensive face. Then you bury your head in his neck and whisper “Sorry.”  His hand slowly comes to your back. You dip your head and lightly brush your lips against his collar bone, then return your face under his jaw, and he nestles his head over yours. Your wet lashes blink against his skin, and his hand slowly slides on your back. Somehow, it feels like more comfort than you deserve. 
“Ok, baby,” he whispers and wraps both arms around you.
----------
if you wanna know whether Carter sees sweet pea that way, check out he's only human.
----------
Their present-day story will continue, but I don't have an ETA, sorry. Unless the next one gets split up, it'll have fluff, two moods of smut, angst.
I appreciate all your comments that let me know what you enjoy and what curiosities you have. Thank you so much for reading, and thanks for your support. Love you all.
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hellvcifer · 16 days
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ANGEL SUPPORT SERVICES— ଘ part 2┆part 1
pairing :: lucifer x fem!angel!reader, slight adam x fem!angel!reader wc :: 5.1k note :: I did not realize this was gonna be over 5k... BUT !! thank you for the love and support on part 1 !! I hope you enjoy this as much as I did writing it ૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა warnings :: canon typical language
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ONE YEAR AGO
“If it isn’t the sweetest ASS in all of Heaven.” A familiar voice rang out, the breeze of flapping wings flushed around you before someone landed on the balcony of your office. “Sup hot stuff.”
“Adam, I really don’t have time for this right now.” You shuffled through some more papers, not even looking at him.
He strutted closer, placing a drink next to you on one of your filing cabinets. “Woah, what’s got your titties in a twist.” 
“The meeting we have with Hell in an hour.” You huffed. “I still have to drop the paperwork off at headquarters and then run a file, that I can’t seem to find, to Analytics before then.”
“Oh, yeah. What a bitch.” He slurped his drink through the straw of his own cup.
Your eyes narrowed at him, tilting your head upward. “You’re the one that got it assigned to me in the first place.” You spoke flatley.
He gulped the liquid down before laughing. “Shit! Did I? Can’t say I never do nothing for you.” He stretched, releasing a heavy exhale in relief. “What do you say after we deal with these cunts downstairs, we meet up after. Take a load off. Chillaxe.” 
“And why would we do that?” You had already turned back to the files you were going through, doing your best to pay him no mind.
“Uh, because I fucking rock.” He threw up the notorious sign with his empty hand. You had finally found the papers you were looking for before registering his words.
You paused. “Are you…” Straightening your posture, you turned towards Adam seeing him stare down at you. His eyes were wide, as if he was nervously awaiting your answer. “Are you asking me out?” 
“HA! Your words, not mine, Babe.” His demeanor switched quickly. You rolled your eyes, closing the filing cabinet before walking out of your office. He tensed, grabbing the extra drink he got and going after you. “Damn, calm down! Okay, if I were asking you out, you’d totally say yes then, right?”
You turned towards Adam. “Oh, yeah~ Sure!” A smile graced your lips though nothing about it was real as your face immediately fell. “If you were asking me out.” You pointedly spoke before facing forward again.
“Okay, then I’m asking you out.” His words made you freeze, eyes widening. 
“What?” You swiveled to stare at him, now realizing he wasn’t joking. “Why?”
“Cuz you’re hot as shit.” He said instantly. “And so am I. Come on, who wouldn’t want to get it on with the original dick, am I right?” He laughed loudly before calming once again. “I’m so right.”
“Right…” You began walking once more, him following quickly though he did his best to do so indifferently. You stopped in front of the elevator before hitting the button to call for it.
“So, what d’you say hot tits, you down?” He held out the extra drink for you, shaking it as an offering. You stared at it wearily before slowly taking it. To be honest, you never really thought Adam would ever ask you out. Not to mention, he's the ultimate dickmaster that you can’t stand ninety percent of the time. It wouldn’t hurt to actually go on a date considering it's been… A while, since you had done so. As much as you could just say ‘Fuck it,’ and agree to it, there’s one rule you can’t seem to put behind you, even for the first man. 
A loud ding drew your attention, the doors opening in front of you. Adam was nearly bursting, impatiently awaiting your response as he stared down at you. 
“I uh… I don’t date coworkers.” You stepped into the elevator and turned, cautiously looking up at him. His brows dipped, eyes filled with shock at your answer, crossed with a glitching phase of his mask. It all soon changed to anger.
“Yeah, whatever, bitch!” He flipped you off, in between the gap of the closing doors. “Didn’t want to tap that uptight ass anyways.” 
His response wasn’t a surprise, but that expression he had. It wasn’t like something you’d seen on him before. He was always confident, flying around Heaven with the biggest ego you’d ever seen. But just then, he’d seemed like your words had actually affected him. 
You mulled over it a moment before taking a deep breath and sipping from the drink in your hand. Your eyes widened when the flavors coated your tongue before swallowing. Your favorite drink from the cafe you frequented. You hummed with a soft smile before taking another sip. Maybe dating a coworker would be that terrible. 
After completing all of your tasks, you finally made your way back to the office. Thoughts fading back to your interaction with Adam before you left earlier. Had he really been into you in a way that was more than just putting you at the butt of a joke? Perhaps, he was just doing it to rile you up before the meeting with Hell. Speaking of…
You noted the time on the clock sitting on your desk, a fluttering feeling crawled across your stomach. Your eyes followed the slow moving line in its circling motion. Less than five minutes. Just a little longer. A smile broke onto your lips. How long has it been since you last saw him?
You sighed, arm bending to rest your cheek into your hand. You melted the weight into it. Over the past few years, he had been going through a lot but you slowly witnessed him overcoming the darkness he faced. He began making his dorky jokes and even flashing his devilish smile again.
“Whatcha thinking about?”
“No one!” You jumped at the voice, glancing in the direction of it and seeing Emily standing in the entrance of your office. Her brows shot up at your reaction. “Em!” You cleared your throat. “Um, hi! I uh–” You grabbed some papers and straightened them, clacking the stack a few times on the surface. “I have my meeting downstairs soon.”
“Yes!” She waltzed in happily. “That’s actually why I’m here!” She now stood at the front of your desk. “I wanted to wish you luck! You always seem so busy around this time of the year, and somehow you always seem your happiest!” 
Your eyes widened. “Uh, I do?”
“Yeah. I just admire how much compassion you have for being one of Heaven’s main connections to Hell!” She grinned brightly.
“Oh, uh.” You turned away, feeling your cheeks heat up. “Thanks, Em.” 
“You’ll tell me everything when you come back, right?”
You smiled at her. “Of course.” You stood, noting the time was seconds away. “We’ll do it over tea.”
She bounced happily, hands clapping together as she did. “Yay!”
You appeared in front of your desk at the Embassy, a certain blonde haired man was in front of you with a nervous smile. Immediately you returned it upon seeing him, your breath hitched before finally returning to speak one word. “Lucifer.” 
“Y/N.” He all but melted at the sound of his name, using his cane to hold his upper body weight before clearing his throat. “Uh, Hi. Hello. H-How are you?” He pulled at the collar of his shirt.
“Oh, another year gone. Though it’s always nice to see you again.” You brought out the sign-in scroll and feather pen. “It seems once a year really isn’t enough time for us to chat, don’t you think.”
“Y-Yeah. Ha ha! Agreed!” His fingers brushed against yours as he took the pen. His rose cheeks heated as he began signing his name. “You look…” He dotted the ‘I’ of his name. Glancing up to see you smiling down at him. Beautiful. He straightened up again. “G-Great!” 
You giggled. “You’re not half bad yourself.” The two items disappeared in a flash of gold petals. The door to your right opened. It was nearly routine at this point. His eyes flickered between it and you. 
“I’ll uh,” He pointed with his cane before glancing stiffly. “I’ll just uh, get going now.” 
“I’ll be waiting.” Your eyes never left his departing figure. The crisp white suit draped over his shoulders nicely. Hair flicking out from underneath his hat in a bouncy quaff with each step. You felt it again, the stir behind your navel. A shuddering breath filled your lungs before releasing once more. Just seeing him made coming down here worth it.
And although you observed him, you didn’t notice the very details that had the man nearly throwing up in the lobby. He was sweating, feeling drenched in it as he slowly took each step towards the conference room door. He could do this. He already talked himself up about it! He’s ready for this! 
He took a deep breath, exhaling sharply through his nose. His posture straightened and he nodded to himself. “Y/N!” He turned around, as he called your name, a bit louder than he meant to. You looked up. Eyes meeting and he nearly forgot what he was going to say. “Uh…” Okay he forgot everything he was going to say. “Um. Well,” He averted his stare, finding something else to reacquaint his thoughts with his mouth. “So, I know it's been awhile, and we’ve. Well what I mean is. You and I, together…” His eyes widened, “Not! Together! I just mean, we’ve met, and have for sometime now and it’d be nice to be together–” His hands frantically waved about trying to explain his point. “Not like that, I just mean, to sit down together and talk, but like um, maybe with some food, or like uh…” 
“Dinner?” You questioned, trying to figure out exactly what he was saying. It felt like deciphering code.
“Yes!” A lightbulb went off in his head as he pointed at you, face filling with excitement. “Us and dinner!” He finally seemed to find his bearings. “Would you like to join me… For dinner?” Lucifer was nervous, sure, but he also spent way too much time talking to himself in the mirror, hyping himself up for this very moment, just to let it go by for a whole year again. 
You simply stared, mouth opening in shock. The fluttery feeling in your stomach from before crawled up into your throat as you replayed his words. He wants to have dinner? With you? You smiled, and brightly, too. He noticed and felt confidence surge through him. Why did this make you so happy? To eat dinner with the only person to make you feel like this. 
“I would love to!” To eat dinner with Lucifer… Lucifer. Your once joyful feeling began to fade away. What would he say… Smile faltering. A heavy liquid filling your lungs as you try to gulp it down. To find a clean breath for some sort of release. “I just…” You glanced away, seeing Lucifer’s expression begin to mimic your own. “I just don’t think… It could work.” You explained. “With me being up there and you… down here.” Your eyes stung, not meeting with him.
He felt a piercing clutch within his chest. Head downturned and eyes shut in defeat. “Right.”
─── ⋆⋅
“I don’t understand why it’s not working. Think Charlie, think! Think, think, think, think, think…” Charlie mumbled while pacing her thought-board. The residents of her hotel watched, each with their own expressions. Mostly worried, though Niffty seemed excited.
Angel stepped closer, “Yikes.” He held two of his hands up, the other two placed on his hips as he leaned forward. Husk was pouring a morning drink–if you could call whiskey that–into his mug as he watched the chaos unfold.
“We do trust falls every morning… We talked about our dreams and goals…” The mumbling from the princess continued. “Come on, come on, come on!” She moved another red string across the board.
“Charlie?” Vaggie spoke up. “Sweetie… You, uh, you good?”
Said girl turned, “Nope, no! Not really! Ha Ha!” Her eyes were noticeably red and veined and she shifted through some more of her papers. “I’ve been up all night trying to figure out why the hotel isn’t working!” The last word was forced out with a little bit of irritation as she scrunched the paper she held. “We’ve done trust falls. We’ve tried sharing our feelings. We only have a couple months left before the angels come.” A maniacal laughter released from her, horns appearing briefly. “And at this rate–”
“Maybe it’s time–” 
“No!” Charlie cut her girlfriend off.
“–to ask–”
Charlie ran up to Vaggie, squishing the girl's cheeks. “Don’t! Say it!” Her eyes were viciously wide as she begged.
“–your dad.” The princess released a guttural groan, her head deflating along with her entire body at those words. “Charlie, I know you don’t want to, but we need every advantage we can get.”
“He let the extermination happen to begin with! They just had a meeting at the Embassy and said, ‘Go ahead and kill everyone!’” Charlie inhaled deeply, a gasp insinuated a brilliant idea entered her mind. She turned towards her thought-board. “That’s it!”
“Kill everyone?” Vaggie asked.
“No!” She turned back. “A meeting with Heaven!”
“Didn’t we already try that?”
“Well, yeah… With Adam. He was an ass~hole. But he isn’t in charge of all of Heaven. We could go to the top!” She pointed to the sky. “There’s sure to be some angels who will listen.” 
“And how do we do that?” Vaggie asked. 
“Well… I guess we could ask my dad…” Charlie whipped out her phone, scrolling through her contacts before reaching ‘Dad.’ She stared at it, finger hovering with hesitation.
“What’s the holdup?” Husk asked. “You got daddy issues?” He inquired, causing Vaggie to glare at him.
“No!” Charlie hid her phone. “We just… Have never been close.” She walked a few steps away, bringing her phone back out to stare at it. “After he and Mom split, he never really wanted to see me. He calls… Sometimes. But only if he’s bored or like, needs me to do something. It got better for a bit but this past year has been super bad. And weird.”
Husk smirked. “Daddy issues.” He muttered towards the others.
“Okay, well, if you can’t call the big dick in charge, then who?” Angel leaned over the back of the couch.
Charlie thought for a moment, recalling the Embassy, her meeting with Adam, and how it went horribly wrong and… You. You!
“That’s it!” She put her phone away, grabbing her jacket from the floor before putting it on. She began brushing her fingers through her messy hair, trying to flatten out the stray piece. 
“Woah! Woah, what?” Vaggie came closer and tried to calm her down while also helping to fix the blonde’s hair.
“The Embassy!” Charlie bounced in place. “We have to go to the Embassy! There’s someone I know who can help! Come on!” She grabbed Vaggie’s wrist and bolted out the doors and through the streets of the pride ring. 
With the pace Charlie set, dragging her girlfriend along, it didn’t take very long to arrive at the Embassy. The architecture of it stood out from all the other buildings in the city. Vaggie took one look at it and groaned to herself. The princess slammed the front door open and strutted inside, having let go of Vaggie. Her arms swayed confidently down the aisle, eyes set on a certain golden bell.
“Uh, Charlie?” Vaggie followed behind her hesitantly, glancing around. “There’s no one here.”
“Oh, there will be~!” Her eyes narrowed in on the shiny object before slapping the small knob on top. A familiar chime echoed throughout the place. The shining gold light appeared, flower petals and feathers fading into view and fluttering giggles became louder.
“So then I see her get spun out from the room, papers flying everywhere, and the all-knowing Dick is rifting his ass off like ee-oouh…” You opened your eyes finally, seeing as you weren’t lounging by the pool with your angel posse anymore. No, instead you were at the Embassy. You turn around to see a familiar someone, her face glaring at you as she stands with a strong posture. You sighed, putting on your best smile. “You know, when I said ‘Come again,’ I didn’t actually mean so soon.”
Charlie closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. She came looking for answers. And she was gonna get them! “Hi, Y/N. Nice to see you again.” She spoke flatley though she did her best to make it seem light and airy. You glanced past her and noticed another girl standing. She had long white hair, part of the framing pieces covered her left eye along with a pink eyepatch. Your brow rose, stare shifting above her head before connecting to her avoiding eye. “Oh, right!” The blonde’s demeanor changed as she displayed the woman with a big smile. “Vaggie, this is Y/N. Y/N this is Vaggie. Now that introductions are out of the way, we were wonder if you could–”
“Heaven doesn’t have any plans to meet for another three months.” You interrupted, looking down at your freshly done manicure. “All other inquiries must be brought up then.” You glanced up at her. “Bye-bye, now!” You waved with a wiggle of your fingers and went back to where you were, seeing the gold gates once more and walking towards them.
“Y/N?” Saint Peter voiced as he saw you walking towards the gate, “I didn’t know you were scheduled for a visit today?” He noticed your eye twitch.
“I wasn’t.” Once the gate fully opened, you went to take a step and you were in front of your desk again. Your widened eyes soon squinted at the culprit, seeing her hand still hovering over the bell.  
Her face was inquisitive, curious, looking from the bell to your appearance once more. You watched as she finally connected the dots to your summoning. She nervously laughed. “I just have a question and I re~ally need your help to answer it!” She spoke all too quickly as if you’d disappear before she could ask.
This girl was annoyingly determined, you’ll give her that. Unfortunately, ignoring it won’t make it go away. You crossed your arms. “You have ten seconds.” 
Her expression lit up with a smile, “Okay, so, I was wondering, and I didn’t really want to ask my dad, but I thought maybe you might know better anyways since you work so closely with Adam and might have some connections with anyone higher–”
“Five seconds.”
“Is there any way to arrange another meeting with Heaven?”
“What?”
“And not just, Adam-Heaven. I mean like Heaven-Heaven, you know?” Her hopeful eyes were large as she stared, awaiting. Like a small puppy.
“No.” You disappeared. Again.
“Charlie, let’s just go.” Vaggie tried to convince her girlfriend but the princess was not having it. She released a mighty breath before raising her hand and slamming it down on the bell. Fast, repeatedly. The constant chimes were endless.
You had barely caught a glimpse of Peter before being called back down. Arriving to the incessant rings of your bell. An obvious irk appeared as you watched the girl in front of you glare at the golden bell. Her eyes didn’t even raise to meet you, you just watched as her tongue poked out in concentration, her focus remained on her task. 
“Charlie…” Vaggie wearily called out.
“Enough!” Your hands shot forward, pressing down on hers and the bell all together, the ring dulled as you cupped the shell. 
The princess inhaled sharply, feeling your warm touch on her slightly colder hand. “You’re… Here?” She asked quietly, eyes glancing up to meet your irritated glare. “Like… like physically here! I thought angels didn’t come down here!” You rolled your eyes at her words before releasing her hand from your grasp and the bell.
You scoffed. “Of course I’m here.” You crossed your arms. “An angel must be physically present in Heaven’s Embassy at all times. Though we altered the rules slightly because, well, nothing happens down here.” You lightly laughed, shaking your head. “Could you imagine if we left this place unsupervised? Anyways!” You perked up once more. “As much as I would, just lo~ve to assist you, unfortunately there’s no possible way to request a meeting with heaven before the next one. How about you ask your father.” You narrowed your eyes on her.
“I can’t!” The irritation pierced through her tone. “He’s not… I just… He won’t bother with what I’m trying to do!” 
Her words caused your brows to crease. “Why? Is he��” You cleared your throat and turned your head away. “Is he okay?” Your eyes flickered to her. 
“I don’t– I mean, I guess?” She squinted at you. “Why do you care?” 
“I don’t!” You huffed, causing her and now Vaggie to stare at you in confusion. “Listen, I can’t help. See you in three months!” Gone. Once more. Not even taking the time to hear them out.
“Ugh!” Charlie’s hands came to her forehead, dragging down her entire face. “She’s not listening!”
“I told you. Angels won’t understand, we can’t trust them.” Vaggie tried to meet eyes with her. A comforting grip was welcomed on the princess’ shoulder. Charlie sighed, glancing down at the bell. Her hand rose, reaching out to ring it once more. 
“If she won’t listen…” She spoke softly, fingers getting closer. “Maybe she’ll understand once she sees it!” Her idea blossomed a new light within her eyes. Hand snatching the bell, careful to avoid the knob on top and dulling the sound of the shell before it could chime. 
Vaggie’s eyes widened, “Ch-Charlie!” She watched her girlfriend brush past her and book it towards the exit.
“Come on!” The blonde shouted, hands tucking the gold bell into her side as she bolted out the doors.
Vaggie ran after her, jaw slacked. “You–you can’t just take that!” Damn! When did her girl run so fast? “Charlie! Put it back!”
“It’s just for a second!” Of course the justification doesn’t make up for the fact that she is steali–borrowing! Definitely borrowing–the shiny angel bell of summoning. Exactly! She was just borrowing it! She’ll put it back! She just needed to show you exactly what she’s doing. She’ll do anything before having to call her father. Anything.
She bounded through the hotel doors, a bright and cheery smile on her face. The sound caused those in the lobby to snap their heads in her direction. She paid no mind as she ran towards her thought-board. 
“This’ll work! I just know this is gonna work!” She stepped happily side-to-side, clutching the bell preciously to her chest with both hands. “She’s gonna see everything we’ve done! And surely she’ll see it’s worth bringing it up to all her friends and even try to help us! This is perfect!” Niffty appeared, copying Charlie's bounce almost exactly with a huge grin on her face and giggling maniacally. 
“Charlie!” Vaggie yelled, out of breath and standing at the front doors. “Don’t you dare ring that–”
Ding~!
The same heavenly ring sounded upon impact, there was a pause as Charlie waited. The bell held poshly in her hands as her widened puppy eyes stared at it. 
The familiar flourish of glittering golds and fluttering flowers swirled, drawing the crowd into the warming glow. Angel and Sir Pencious creeped closer, awed expressions curiously enraptured by whatever Charlie had brought into the Hotel. 
Husk began pouring another glass of bourbon. “Here we go.” He said, pulling the drink up and gulping a sip down.
The princess sprung in place, watching as the feather cocoon unfurled to reveal none other than you. Your eyes were shut, expression invoking an unexplainable frustration as you released a sigh. “You really know how to ruffle an angel the wr–” Words fell off your lips as soon as your eyes opened, seeing the foreign walls surrounding you. “Where am I?”
You slowly peered at your environment, the dark crimson coated nearly everything in sight; the dingy carpet, the clawed wallpaper, the crusty couch. The gold accents were dull, completely opposite to what you would see upstairs. A bug crawled across the floor and a small… Demon? Ran after it while laughing.  You finally landed on those gawking at you. Three people stood behind the couch. A tall spider-looking fella, a cat-like one with wings, and one that resembled a snake. A lurking shadow loomed from the balcony atop of the stairs, watching. Waiting.
When you turned towards the agonizing pain in your side that seemed to dig further and further in, she was joyfully holding your bell in her hands, a grin presented guiltily. “I am sooo~ sorry but I just really needed you to see exactly what we were doing here an–”
“Stop!” You shouted at her, wings presenting themselves widely and at their highest peak. Your voice echoed with something powerful, something both heavenly and haunting all at once. It was silent for a moment, the cutting tone of your voice froze everyone in place. A seething breath escaped between your gritted teeth.
“Alright, is this what I think it is?” One of the people behind you with a thick accent asked as he shifted his weight onto one hip. He had no care in breaking the thick tension that hung in the air.
“Who iss thiss?” Another one asked, his S’s pulled out as he spoke, eyes flickering between you and Charlie.
“Heh heh.” The princess looked warily before she jumped forward, arms stretched out to present you. “Everyone, this is Y/N!” You simply squint your eyes at the blonde as she bounded about.  “Y/n this is Angel Dust and Sir Pentious. They’re guests at the hotel and undergoing the rehabilitation process!” She then walked over to the other two. “And this is Husk, and this is Niffty! They work here.” 
“Shiny!” The shorter one, Niffty, snatched the bell from Charlie’s hands. Her single pupil dilated as she stared at it. You snapped your fingers, the item disappearing into thin air. 
“Are you trying to piss Heaven off?” You glared at the princess. “Or just me.”
“No! No, no, no.” She stormed towards her thought-board. “I know this isn’t the best situation but if you please. Please! Just look and hear out what I’m doing. I just know you’ll understand.”
“How is Feathers over here supposed to help?” Angel asked, his eyes sizing you up with a tumb jutted out in your direction.
“Shee~e works for the Angel Support Services!” Charlie nervously chuckled, gauging everyone’s reaction. “In Heaven!”
“Angel Support Services?” The spider raised a brow, a set of hands on his hips while the other’s crossed in front of him. A laugh bubbled, “You’re tellin’ me you work for ASS ?” 
You groaned, hand sliding down your face. “Adam’s doing…” 
“Don’t get me wrong, sweetheart, I know all~ about working for ass.” He smirked, wiggling his hips side-to-side to accent the word. “I just didn’t think Heaven got down and dirty like that.” 
“How the hell did you get an angel down here?” Husk's question was forcibly shocked, his tone spiking as did his brow.
“You heard it here first, folks!” Static surrounds your ears before coming to a dull buzz. A man clad in a red suit appeared from an inky shadow, cane in hand and an unnerving smile revealing his sharp canines. “Yes! An angel indeed, seen with my very eyes!” His hand shot out, snatching yours. “Name’s Alastor, a pleasure to mee–” The sizzle from your hand in his made him break the connection immediately, his eye twitched but grin never faltering, though it was now strained. He looked down at his hand, noting the obvious burn on his palm. His pupils slid to you. “Quite the bite you got there.” His voice altered slightly, muffle through his odd filter.
“Don’t. touch me.” You turned away from him. The sound of radio frequency slowly began growing louder until you snapped your head in his direction. It silenced immediately, his head tilting to the side and the smile never changed. It just grew. 
Charlie scooted herself into your vision, putting a buffer between you two. “This is Alastor!” She displayed him. “He manages the hotel.”
“Yes, I’ve always thought this little dream of Charlie’s was worthy of an investment.” He added, holding out his mic'd cane to the lobby.
You ignored him and stared at said girl, seeing her confidence fading, the cheery smiling now slipping the longer she tried to convince you. Perhaps this ‘little dream’ of hers wasn't bound to fail from the start. Was it pity? No… Something else. You took a moment, looking at her closely. It was her eyes. 
The same ones you got to see once a year.
You heaved put an exasperated breath, turning towards her thought-board. Eyes grazing over her various pages and drawings. The red strings connect certain areas in hopes of creating more brainstorming opportunities. “Friendship circle?” You read aloud. 
“Y-Yeah!” Charlie swerved past the couch to stand in front of you. “I-It’s where we all sit down in a circle and say something nice about one another. I came up with it.” She walked forward and pointed at a few more pieces of paper that were connected with pink string. “It’s to help recognize kindness within your friends and have compassion for others! And–” 
“Hey, uh Sweetie.” Vaggie walked forward, her hand setting on her girlfriend's shoulder as she cleared her throat. “Why don’t you ask about the meeting?” She whispered out the last bit.
“Right! The meeting!” Charlie looked at you, seeing your wings flutter as she spoke. You remained stagnant, eyes flickering across her pinned papers. “The reason we want to meet with Heaven before the one at the Embassy is because we need more time!”
You tilted her head at this, eyelids narrowing. “More time?” 
“If I can just get into Heaven to meet with someone higher than Adam before the next extermination, maybe, just maybe–”
“What?” Your neck nearly snapped with how fast you turned towards her.
 “–I can convince them to work together and–” Charlie clearly didn’t hear you as she continued, but you froze. The word repeats like a drum within your thoughts. You glanced back at her drawings. “Extermination…?” You whispered, eyes shaking as her voice slowly drowned to a muffle in the background. Your glazed over eyes focus on a drawing of a figure very similar to one particular man. The very first man. You felt your jaw clench at the sight. Adam.
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