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storm-angel989 · 7 months

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Outside the Office Part Seven

Hi All,

No trigger warnings for this one, but definitely mature content. I love the feedback I've been getting- I'm thrilled everyone is enjoying this series! As always, feedback is appreciated! Enjoy!

When I woke up, I found Valentino asleep, his arm wrapped around me protectively. His heart shaped glasses were folded neatly on the nightstand next to us. In all the time we had spent together, I had never seen Val actually sleep. I laid my head on his chest, listening to the steady ins and outs of his breathing as I slowly woke up. I blinked a few times and rubbed my eyes, willing myself to stay awake.

It was at that moment I noticed the bloodstains on his hands and clothes. I sat up and frantically ran my hand over the parts of him I could reach, searching for a source of the blood. Was he hurt? I ran my hands down his chest, unable to find its origon.

“Mi amore. Awake already?” he asked sleepily, adjusting his position ever so slightly.

“You’re bleeding.” I ran my hand over his neck, trying to calm the panic that was so prevalent in my voice. “You’re hurt.”

That woke him up. His fingers interlaced with mine and he pushed us both upright, looking down. Pain shot through me, but I ignored it. Val was hurt. He checked himself over and after a few moments, he shook his head.

“Not mine princessa. Yours, most likely. From yesterday. I need a shower and you…” he saw my pained expression. “Need another round of pain medication. And food.” He gently moved me against the pillows. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.”

He vanished into the bathroom and reappeared a few moments later. He snapped on a pair of blue gloves before he reached over and carefully disconnected the IV line. From his pocket, he pulled two vials and an alcohol wipe packet. .

“One to flush, one for pain.” He took my arm in his hand and ran the wipe over the entryway. “It might burn princessa. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want to be high.” I said, yanking my arm away. “No, Val. I don’t like that feeling. Please.”

“You won’t be.” He said soothingly. “The doctor gave you another non narcotic. Just like last night. Once it’s in you, I’ll take the whole IV out. I promise. Let me know when you’re ready.” He waited for me to answer.

“I…trust you.” I said softly, moving back closer to him.

He kissed my forehead. “That’s my girl.”

I grimaced as the first round of liquid flooded into my veins. He uncapped the second vial and slowly pushed it into my body.

“I don’t feel any…ah!” The tightness in the back of my head released and the pain erased itself.

“Supplier of highs and releases,” he mumbled, more to himself than to me. He carefully slid the IV out of my arm, taping the gauze over the pinprick of damage it left behind. “Do you feel okay?”

“I don’t feel pain, if that’s what you're asking.” I said slowly. “Lucifer wasn’t kidding when he said medicine in hell is far more advanced than what angels have. All we have for stuff like this is…well, more akin to what those demons gave me last night.”

Valentino grimaced. “Princessa, I can’t…even begin to imagine.” He sighed and gently leaned over and kissed me. “I told you the medicine wouldn't affect your brain. I made a promise to answer your questions today, and you promised the same. You can’t be hazy for that. But you do need to eat first. Come on, let’s go see what Vox made for breakfast.”

He stood up and lifted me into his arms, carrying me out to the living room couch. “Vox? Vel?" He called out across the room. "One of you, keep an eye on her. I need a shower and I don’t want to leave her by herself.”

“You’re being overprotective.” I told him, wrapping my arms around his neck. He laid me down on the couch and kissed my forehead.

“And I have every right to be overprotective, princessa. Do you disagree?”

I didn’t. The feeling of love and safety that wrapped around me the moment he touched me was incomparable to anything else. I craved it, more than anything. I watched as he walked away, settling myself against the pillows.

Velvette looked over at me from her place on the couch and did a double take. “Fuck. You look even worse this morning.”

I heard Valentino yell from down the hall, his voice loud and laced with annoyance. “Don’t fuck with her Vel, or I’ll fuck you up.”

She puffed up and hollered back. “I’m not fucking with her, its the truth.” She paused and I watched her swing herself up and march down the hallway towards his room. I heard Valentino curse and she walked out a few moments later, a box in her hand. She marched over to the elevator.

“I’ll be right back.”

I watched her disappear downstairs and looked at Vox. He shrugged in response.

“Does it hurt to chew?" He asked, walking over next to me. "I made soup if it does. If not, I have waffles and scrambled eggs- with cheese. Both should be soft enough for you to eat.”

“I don’t feel any pain.” I said, pushing myself up. “But I’m not hungry either.”

“So waffles and eggs it is. Got it.” He disappeared into the kitchen and came out a moment later with a plate, handing it to me. “Come on, you have to eat. It's yummy, I promise."

“I’m really not all that hungry, Vox. And it has nothing to do with your cooking.” I responded, pushing away the proffered plate. “My stomach’s just off.”

He sat down next to me on the couch, setting my plate on the coffee table in front of him. He was quiet for a moment, and he picked up the fork and cut a small piece of the waffle, sticking it with the fork. “Your belly is off because you haven’t eaten anything in the last fourteen or so hours. Come on. You’re not going to feel any better if you don’t give your body what it needs.”

“I told you, I’m not…”

“And the train goes in the tunnel.” Vox sang sarcastically as he stuck the fork in my mouth. “Chew. Swallow. Food goes into our tummies and makes us feel better!” His one eye began to swirl. “Eat.”

I did as he commanded but glared at him once I had swallowed the bite. “Stop being a jerk, I am not a child.”

“Oh? Could have fooled me because grow ups understand the importance of feeding our bodies. So much like a five year old, I’m giving you a choice. Either I can feed you, bite by bite, or you can feed yourself. But you need something in your stomach. End of discussion.” His voice turned softer. “You’ll heal faster and feed better. You need to eat, reader.”

I glared but realized I wasn't going to win this one. I took the plate and fork from him. He wasn’t wrong, after the first delicious bite my hunger returned. “Okay fine but don’t do that again. I mean it, I’m not helpless and I’m not a child.””

“And I don’t have a Daddy kink, so if you do what you need to do, I don’t have to treat you like a child.” He paused. “Trust me, if I wanted to play Daddy I would borrow one of Val’s whor- er, employees and make some money.”

“What does that even mean?”

Vox reached over and patted my head. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it. Just get as much down as you can manage. I’m going to go make another batch, yell if you need me.”

He walked away as I ate, scrolling through my phone as I worked my way through breakfast. A few minutes later, my plate was empty. I set it on the table and uncapped the Sweet Sixteen that Vox had left for me, sipping it as I made myself as comfortable as I could.

Vox walked over to me just as I finished the drink. He looked me over and grinned. “You can’t tell me your stomach doesn’t feel better now that you’ve fed it. Your color is back.” He paused. “Did Val take your temperature this morning?”

I shook my head no.

“He should have. Com’ere let me feel your forehead.” The back of his hand pressed against my skin. He breathed a sigh of relief. “Good. No fever. No fever usually means no infection brewing. I’ll let Lucifer know.”

“Is he coming today?” I asked. “I thought I might see him this morning.”

Vox shook his head. “Not unless you want him to come. He called earlier to check in on you but you were still sleeping. He said he’d try to video call with you later but if you could text him and let him know you’re alive I’m sure he would appreciate it.”

I picked up my phone and shot a quick text to Lucifer. He responded back right away.

You’re sure you're okay?

More than okay, Uncle Lucy. Promise.

Alright. I’ll try to call later but no promises. Things are rough out here. Glad you’re staying with the V’s. Be safe, and rest.

Across the room, the elevator door opened up and I looked up. Velvette sashayed across the room and plopped down on the couch next to me.

“Find what you need?” I asked, turning the screen on my phone off.

She pushed my empty plate across the table and set several bags and boxes next to us. “I did. Mind if I touch? Your face, I mean.”

“My face?” I asked as she tilted her head to one side, studying me. “I guess, sure.”

“Excellent.” She brushed my hair out of my eyes and tucked it behind my ear. “Mind if I play a bit? See what I can do to help you get cleaned up? You’ll feel better if you look better.”

“She doesn’t look bad.” Valentino’s voice drifted down the hallway. He walked over to us and leaned over the back of the couch. He pressed his lips to the top of my head. “Be nice. She’ll heal up.”

“Oh will you shut up? There is no hiding that she’s beat to shit. And if she looks in the mirror and sees it, well that won’t do much for healing now will it? You feel better if you look better.” Velvette shot back.

Valentino shrugged, apparently unbothered by Velvette’s snap. “As long as she’s fine with it, that’s all that matters. Vox, is there food left? I’m starving.” He turned to me. “Babe. Did you eat?”

“Vox made me.” I grumbled as Velvette lightly touched my skin.

“And do you feel better now that I did?” Vox prompted, flopping on the couch across from me.

“Yeah, I do.”

“Then I stand by my decision. You gotta eat, that's the first lesson you learned upon your arrival to hell.”

“Speaking of arrival to hell…” Valentino sat next to Vox, directly across from me. “Care to explain why you told us last night that you’ve been beaten worse than this? Because this, babydoll, is pretty bad from where I stand.”

“Yeah. I want to know too.” Vox added.

“Agreed.” Velvette added, pausing her makeup to look at me.

I frowned at the three of them. “I told you. My dad raised me- he was the leader of the exorcist army. What exactly do you think my days looked like?”

All three of them stared at me in confusion. I rolled my eyes.

“Guys. It’s the military. Do you not have one in hell? My days started at four am and if I made a mistake, even a tiny one, I was met with corporal punishment- even more so because my father was the head, and he wanted to make sure he set an example. Not to mention some of the exercises themselves were meant to prepare us for our eventual arrival in hell. We underwent all sorts of physical training to ensure that even if the worst happened down here we would not, under any circumstances, betray heaven. And we were taught to fight to survive. To do that, they broke us down to the nitty gritty, and put us through all sorts of…scenarios. It’s what we needed to do to learn to survive.” I paused. “Or at least, that's what they told us.”

I stopped talking and watched them try to process what I had told them. A memory floated up, one I had tried to keep hidden away. Might as well share, maybe it would help them understand.

“Here is a prime example. One time, I was late to the first call. I was supposed to swim laps that morning under the watchful eye of my father. When I turned up late, he ripped into me in front of an entire platoon, told me what an absolute disgrace I was to our family name, and then made me run laps until I puked. Or passed out. I’m not really sure which it was. When I wasn’t physically able to run anymore, he made me spend the day cleaning out the locker rooms. Said it was character building. And I mean, he was right. I was never late for the first call again.”

“I have so many questions,” Vox began slowly. “Like, how old were you, exactly?”

“Oh no. Your turn is over. It’s my turn to ask.” I replied lightly. “Right? The agreement was that you would answer honestly, and so would I.”

Valentino looked ever so slightly annoyed. “Yes. I suppose so. Bear in mind, princessa, that agreement was between you and I. But fine. Ask your question. We can go back and process ... .that later.” He hesitated. “Does Lucifer know about this?”

“I said I’m not answering any more questions. Souls. Soul contracts. How do they work? And what the fuck even is your job, Valentino?”

“That’s two questions. If we answer them both, you have to answer another one as well. Got it?” Velvette interjected, brushing powder on my face. “There. You’re all done. I’ll finish later, when your lips don’t move as much.”

Across from me, Valentino set his empty plate on the table and stood up, walking over to me. I reached for him and he lifted me up, settling me against him and pulling a quilt over us. “You okay, princessa?” He asked with concern in his voice. "You look like you're getting tired."

“I’m fine. Answers. Souls.” I reminded him. “What did I see in that room, Val? What did I walk in on?”

Valentino sighed and thought for a moment. “You saw me at my job. As the boss. Every single one of those demons in that room belongs to me. Is owned by me. Sold their soul to me. I give them everything they are owed in their contract. And make no mistake, they knew exactly what they were getting into when they signed the contract with me. And I am bound by that contract as much as they are.”

“I don’t understand.”

He sighed. “Vox. Vel. One of you. Help me out here.”

Vox took a deep breath. “It’s like this. Our power as overlords comes from the souls we own. We acquire souls through the deals we make, deals that become contracts. Not like the little thing Lucifer did to you last night,” he added quickly. “Soul contracts are different from anything you’ve ever experienced. Once a creature signs over their soul, both they and the provider of the contract are fully bound by the terms of the contract until one or both of those parties meets their ultimate demise. Let’s be specific and use Valentino as an example. If a human signs a contract with him, that means they get something- whatever it is they desire in life, in exchange for their eternal soul working for Valentino after death. The specifics of those working conditions are outlined in the contract they both sign. It is Valentino’s responsibility to ensure that the contract is upheld. It’s his job, honey. Slightly different from my job, or Vel’s, but the base idea is the same. We provided a creature something in life in exchange for their soul, and the details of that exchange are specifically outlined in a contract. Both parties sign and are bound.”

“That also being said that until that contract is signed, consent is required in my studio. No one is touched outside the specific terms of their contract,” Valentino added. “The girl they mistook you for- she was in the final process of trading me her soul in exchange for…well, that doesn’t matter really. As part of her repayment, she would work for me. She wanted to be roughed up. But until I had her on stage, under my cameras, she wasn’t to be fucked. I don’t make a profit off of things I don’t own.”

“Who would even sign something like that?” I asked.

“Oh my sweet baby girl. You would be shocked. And there are no loopholes in our contracts, right down to the word “knowingly”. I ensure my deals are made with solid understanding from both parties. We are cruel because we need to be. All of my contracts outline the requirement to be that way." Valentino tucked a stray hair behind my ear. "Those who are soft do not make it down here. And princessa, the consequences of me breaking my own contract are far, far worse than upholding it- for both myself and the other parties.” He finished softly. His hand fell to the top of my head, his fingers worked their way through my hair and down my back as he spoke.

“Valentino.” I looked up at him and laid my head on his chest, settling into him. That feeling of safety and security was still as strong as ever. “You were a different person in your studio. I watched you strike someone, you threw your glass. You yelled, you demanded. I’ve never seen you like that. Ever. But you, you’re so gentle to me. And you hold me. And you’re soft, and take care of me. Why is that?"

“Princessa. I am not your boss. I don’t play that part in your life because I don’t own you. You and Vox and Vel, we’re friends.” He bent down and kissed me gently. “Or in our case, more than friends. But my point is, we offer each other an escape- a life outside of work. I don’t need to be harsh to you, and I don’t want to be. Who we are at work is not who we are in our private lives.” His voice softened. “I can be myself around them. Around you.”

“But Vox and Vel, they don’t…they aren't cruel. Not like that.” I protested.

Velvette let out a short laugh, “you’re joking, right?”

Vox shook his head, “oh sweetheart. We are- just not to you. Same reason as Val just said. We don’t own your soul. We don’t own each other's souls. We live and spend time together because we like each other and enjoy each other's company.”

Valentino put his hand on the top of my head. “Think for a moment, princessa. Do you spend your day aside Vox? Or does he put you to work on a laptop, tucked away in a corner while he handles his responsibilities? When you’re in Velvette’s studio, are you next to her- or trying on outfits handed by her employees until she calls you to the stage? I assure you, mi amor- they keep you as shielded from the realities of their job as they possibly can.” Valentino heaved a sigh and ran his thumb over my cheek, brushing away some of the makeup Velvette had dabbed on. “I’m sorry you had to find all this out, sweetheart. I’m sorry you had to see that side of me. Learn that side of us exists.”

“But reader, I cannot stress this enough. You will never see that side of us, not in our home, as much as we can help it. Outside of these four walls, we are overlords. It isn’t just Valentino who plays that role. If you saw any of us in our actual positions, you wouldn’t recognize us.” Velvette added.

Valentino continued to gently stroking my hair. I sank into him. He wrapped his arms around me and settled me against him. “Vox doesn’t let the world know that he makes banana chocolate chip pancakes each Saturday morning- unless I beat him to it. And Velvette certainly doesn’t let anyone other than us know that she needs to be carried to bed after seven drinks.”

“That was rude.” Velvette snorted, glaring at him.

“Shush Vel. It’s true. And to the point, this is our safe place, here and with each other. Outside of the public eye. Our studios are not. From the moment we step inside, we become what we need to be in order to be successful.” Vox explained, leaning back and putting his arm around Velvette, pulling her to him. He planted a kiss on her forehead.

Valentino cupped my chin. “The world doesn’t see the Valentino cradles you until you fall asleep during movie night. That’s not the image the world can see. If they did, we would lose the hold we have over hell. The world is an evil place, princessa. We keep you shielded from it, or at least, we tried.”

Vox pulled a blanket over him and Velvette, mimicking the position Valentino and I were in. “Again, to that point, we very clearly failed. Which leads me to the next thing that needs to be discussed. What is our plan going forward? I, for one, think Lucifer was right.. I think it's about time we started to present reader to the publicly as both one of us, and the princess of hell. It might be stickier for awhile in public, but at least people will know exactly who she is and there will be no more cases of mistaken identity.”

Velvette considered and looked at me. “People won’t touch you if they know you’re a V. I’m all for it.”

I nodded. “That sounds good to me. But how?"

“Tomorrow, I’ll bring you to the studio. Make it very clear that you are not to be touched.” Valentino said firmly, giving me a soft squeeze.

Vox shrugged. “Same, but maybe not tomorrow. Gonna wanna give you time to heal. If you come out in public looking like that, it won’t go over well for anyone.”

Valentino laughed darkly and held me closer. “I’m sure Velvette has full coverage makeup. No, I’m not waiting. I’m not risking this happening again.” He looked down at me. “I want you in the studio tomorrow, at my side. I want to make it explicitly clear that you are one of us.”

“Did anyone think to run this by Lucifer? Before we- you know, out the existence of the Princess of hell?” Velvette asked, snuggling up to Vox. “I mean, I’m all for it. I’ve been dying to have her walk in one of my shows.”

“Of course. It was his idea to begin with.” Vox answered. “He’ll be providing additional protection as well- not that that aspect is any of your concern. I’ll handle it. And, I think he was impressed at the protection we gave her…after the fact.”

“I know I was.” I said softly, looking up at Valentino. “You stood up to Lucifer and he was….scary.”

“And worth it, for you, Princessa.” His fingers interlaced with mine. “I believe we answered your questions, did we not?”

I nodded. “You did.”

“So one more question for you and we will both have answered each other the same amount. Do you agree?”

I looked up at him. “I do. Why?”

“Because this is the last question I have for you for now, mi amor. And then I want you back in bed, resting.” He took a deep breath. “Princessa…are you sure you want to be here? Are you sure, even after the events of last night, that you feel safe with us?” He tilted my chin up to him, looking me in the eye. “You agreed to answer truthfully.”

Vox and Velvette stared at him for a moment.

I didn’t hesitate. “Yes, Valentino. I am sure I want to be here. You…even with what happened, you make me feel safe. I care about you.” I looked at Vox and Velvette. “All of you.”

“It should go without saying that we feel the same way.” Velvette said. She smiled and looked up at Vox, kissing him on the cheek. “I mean, who else can model AND carry a conversation?”

Vox nodded in agreement. “Of course we do. Outside the three of us, you’re the first one we’ve ever let into this space. Honestly, it would be weird if you weren't here at this point.”

“So it’s settled, I can stay?” I asked Valentino.

He looked pained. “You misunderstood me. There was never a question of could. It was a question of want. Do you want to stay?”

“Yes.” I said firmly. “I don’t think I can make my stance any clearer than that.” I wrapped my arms around his neck and buried my face into him.

He kissed me gently, running his hands down my back. “Mi amor, you have no idea how happy I am at your answer. I’m taking you back to bed now. You need rest if you want to heal quickly.” He stood up, cradling my body to his as he turned to walk me down the hallway.

“Oh, Val? We’re working from home today. So if you need to go in…” Vox called from behind us. “We’ll make sure she’s well looked after.”

Valentino paused, his grip on me tightening. “I do, but not right now. She’s my number one priority at the moment. Maybe after she goes to sleep.”

I buried my face deeper into him at the thought of him leaving. He ran a hand down my back and carried me into my bedroom, setting me down on the bed. The medication had begun to wear off and the bruises were once again making themselves known. I knew from prior experiences I needed a hot shower and a round of anti inflammatories before the pain became unbearable.

I expressed this to Valentino. He frowned at my words.

“Princessa. I don’t…I don’t feel comfortable with you being by yourself for any period of time. Not right now.” He hesitated. “I suppose I could wait outside the door while you shower, but…”

“What if you just joined me?” I suggested.

He looked at me. “Princessa?”

“You’ve seen me naked yesterday, and probably before that. Fuck,Vox and half the world has probably seen me without clothes at this point. After yesterday, what does it matter?” I sank into the pillows. “And besides Val, if I could have any say over who gets to see me like that…I would prefer it to be you. Only you. Every time.”

“It matters to me because it matters to you.” Valentino said firmly. “And so you’re aware, other than Vox, no other person in that studio who saw you yesterday is breathing today. It was a direct violation of their consent clause- whether they knew it or not.”

I stared at him. “You killed them…even though they didn’t know they violated their contract?”

“It’s in the language.” Valentino gently cupped my chin. “Remember, I have an agreement I have to follow as well.” He leaned in and kissed me. “Princessa, if you’re sure, I would appreciate being by your side.” He helped me to my feet. “Preferably, right by your side.”

“Valentino, are you actually going to shower with me?” I teased.

He kissed me lightly. “Only because you asked, Princessa. And of course, to keep you safe.” He lifted me up and carried me to the bathroom, setting me on the counter. He reached into the shower and turned it on. He rummaged through a drawer and came up with a bottle of ibuprofen. I watched as he pulled a paper cup from the dispenser and filled it up with water. He handed me two pills and the cup. "Here. Swallow these. If you're still in pain after your nap and want a bath, I’ll run one.” He nodded towards the bathtub on the other side of the bathroom. “Maybe an Epsom salt bath if that sounds good to you."

“Mm, yeah. That could help.” I swallowed the medication and set aside the cup. Once that was out of the way, I reached for his shirt and gently tugged at it. "This needs to come off."

He smiled, “alright, babydoll. Settle down.”

“What? Val- you’ve seen me naked, wouldn’t you agree it’s only fair that I get to see you without clothes?”

That elicited a laugh. “Oh Princessa. You make a compelling argument.” He leaned in and kissed me before pulling off his shirt.

I took a moment to admire his body. I had seen glimpses of it before of course, moments when Velvette was adjusting buttons or other parts of fabric in the limo. And of course I felt it- rock hard body pressed against me when we snuggled. But this was the first time I had seen him fully shirtless. To say he was gorgeous was an understatement. Every muscle was perfectly sculpted, lean and perfectly put together. His jeans fell just below his hips, hugging every curve of his body.

“Like what you see, princessa?” He teased lightly, leaning in and kissing me.

“I couldn’t imagine anyone who wouldn't.” I said softly. “Damn, Val.”

He laughed again and undid the top snap of his jeans. “Ah, mi amor..” He leaned in and kissed me again, the rest of his clothing falling to the floor. He leaned in closer, obscuring my view of anything below the waist. “My turn to undress you.”

He pulled his tee shirt off my body, tossing it into the dirty laundry. Carefully, he tugged off my pajama bottoms and they joined his shirt in the hamper. He lifted me up and carried me into the shower.

I hissed as the hot water hit my skin. He turned his back to the water, protecting me from its sting.

“I’m going to set you down. Just lean on me, alright?”

“I can walk Val. I’m not…completely broken.” I said as he set me down, his hands on my waist as he made sure I was stable.

He tilted my chin up and kissed me softly, the steam building around us. “I know, princessa. Something tells me you would be…difficult to break.” He pulled me to him and gently guided me back under the water. “Come now, let’s get those muscles to relax.”

I leaned into him, resting my head against his chest as he gently rubbed my shoulders under the running water. I felt the warmth wash over my body. Under my head, he exhaled slowly, as if he was trying to control his breathing.

“Princessa.” He muttered, leaning back, both hands on my shoulders as his eyes studied my body. Somewhere in my brain I wanted to be embarrassed, to hide under his gaze. But for the first time, I felt comfortable being totally exposed to him. Somewhere in my belly, I felt something stir. I had felt it before, but standing next to him, against him, the feeling was stronger.

“Valentino.” I pressed my body into him. The pain I had begun to feel erased itself under the heat. “I have another question.”

“What is it princessa?” He leaned down and kissed me. “Ask away.”

“Does it hurt?” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them.

“Does what hurt, princessa?” he asked with confusion and concern.

“What you do in the studio. Sex. I want to know. Is it supposed to hurt that bad?”

A horrified expression crossed his face. “Mi amore, no,” he said quickly. He shook his head and stepped forward and pulled me close to him, stepping his own body under the stream of warm water. “No. It doesn’t have to. Some enjoy the pain, the feeling of surrendering their entire body to another. They enjoy the punishment, the degradation. But it doesn’t have to be that way. It can be soft, gentle. Pleasurable in ways you never thought possible.”

“Show me.”

He hesitated for a fraction of a second, then quickly pulled me to him, his lips pressing against mine. Any lingering pain vanished, replaced with a different feeling- a warmness spreading deep in my belly. I wanted him. Just him. All of him.

“You need to tell me if it hurts," he said as his hand ran down my thigh. “I need to know what feels good- and what causes you pain.” He leaned into me, pressing my back against the wall of the shower. I felt his finger slip inside me, then another. I let out an involuntary moan. He ran his thumb over my clit, drawing circles around the sensitive skin. I arched my back.

An explosion of nerves as his body pressed deeper into mine. I moaned, leaning into him, digging my nails into him as I tried to balance myself against the pleasure. “Valentino!”

“That’s right baby.” He pressed his lips against mine. “Come for me, my princessa.” His fingers moved faster, his kisses growing more and more rapid.

My stomach knotted as warmness spread through me, my vision flashing black as I felt an explosion in my belly, an explosion I had never felt before. I panted as the feeling of euphoria spread through every inch of my body., rendering me absolutely helpless. I felt his fingers slide out as I leaned my entire weight onto him. Against his thigh, I felt his cock twitch.

“Sex is fun, princessa. When you’re with the right person.” He whispered, holding me to him. “That’s my girl. Breathe.” I could see his conflicted expression as his eyes ran over me. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “I’ve got you. Come on, let’s get you cleaned up so we can get you to bed.”

Balancing me against him, I felt him lather both of us in soap. He guided me under the water, rinsing us off before running a hand through my hair. He took a bottle of my shampoo and gently squeezed some in his hand.

“Close your eyes. I don’t want to get soap in them.” He ordered gently.

I did as he instructed, gripping onto him as the overload of my release slowly dissipated. By the time I was rinsed off and wrapped in a towel, propped back up on the bathroom counter, I felt like I could breathe again.

“Did you enjoy that, princessa?” He asked with concern, wrapping himself in a towel. “You’re quiet.”

“Val, that was…amazing.” I said softly, reaching for him. My body ached for more, hindered only by the pain I was very much starting to feel. “I want you. All of you.”

He took a deep breath as he surveyed my body. After a few seconds, he exhaled. “And you can have me. I promise. But not tonight. I’ll shatter you into a thousand pieces, mi amor. Especially, especially if it's your first time.” He pressed his lips to mine. “Your first time will be special. I promise. But you need to wait.”

I let out the most uncharacteristic whine. “But Val. I want you. Every single inch of you. And I’ve never felt this way before. Not ever. Please.”

“Another day, princessa. I want you too. Every inch of you.” His body pressed into mine and I could hear the struggle in his voice. “Waiting is testing every single fucking bit of my self control. But I need you to be okay afterwards, and right now I don’t think you will be. You’re still hurt, mi amor.” He leaned forward and kissed me, his breathing almost ragged. “I wouldn’t wait if I didn’t have to. Believe me. You’ve now officially seen me at my worst- and at my best. And gotten into the thick of everything I do in the worst possible way. And you still want me. Reach for me. Want me to hold you and be by your side. Princessa, my love, my heart. I will not rush what should be a magical night simply because I want you right here and right now. So please. Let me help you get dressed and come lay with me. The sooner you heal, the sooner the pain leaves you the sooner I can show you exactly what it means to be loved by someone as intensely as I love you.”

He wrapped me in his arms and against his chest, I could hear the frantic beating of his heart. His hand fell down the small of my back and looked up at him, pushing myself up to kiss his lips. Inside my chest, my heart soared. He did love me.

“Okay Val. I’ll wait until you’re ready. Until you think I’m ready.” I looked up at him. “I love you too.”

He held me tighter, kissing the top of my head. He let out another slow exhale. “I love you more than you could ever know.” He hesitated and ran a hand over my cheek. “I need to get dressed and get to work. And you need to get in bed.”

I took a comb from the holder on the counter and began to work through the knots in my hair as I watched him yank his tee shirt over his head, and then reach for his jeans. I frowned as he stepped into them. “Wait, why are you putting your jeans back on? I thought you said we were taking a nap.”

He took the brush from my hand, smoothing out either side of my hair as he carefully worked his way through the knots. “No. I said you need to rest. I need to work, and I’m going to work from home as long as I possibly can. But if I put my sweatpants on, snuggle you next to me and lay down in bed I’ll fall asleep right besides you. But I can’t sleep in jeans- I just can’t do it. Hopefully between them and my laptop I can get enough done today that I don’t have to physically go into my office. And you can still rest, right next to me where I can keep an eye on you.” He set the comb down and reached for the mirror and wiped away the steam, picking up his heart shaped glasses and adjusting them on his face. “There.”

I turned and caught sight of myself in the mirror. The deep blues and blacks of yesterday stood out starkly against my pale skin. I frowned at my reflection. The shower seemed to have brought out even darker colors.

Valentino saw me looking and quickly lifted me up off the counter, pulling one of his clean shirts over my head before lifting me up and carrying me to bed. One hand holding me, the other tossing pillows against the headboard. He sat down, adjusting me so that I was snug against him before reaching for his phone, laptop, and headset. I watched him open the laptop screen and hit the startup button.

“You should sleep.” He told me, running his fingers through my damp hair. “I’m just going to be working, and you can’t heal that pretty face without rest.”

“Pretty isn’t the word I’d use.” I mumbled, more to myself than to him. “I look like shit.”

“Excuse me?” He reached down and tilted my head up so our eyes met. His voice was gentle, but his tone was one of anger. “Care to say that again?”

“I…” I paused and thought better of it. “No.”

“Alright then. You will heal, princessa. But in the meantime…” He pulled me gently to him and kissed my forehead. “You are not allowed to insult your beauty. Understood? The woman I love does not deserve to be insulted., not even by herself.”

I nodded. He shook his head, unsatisfied with my response.

“Let me hear the words, so I know you understand.”

That burning feeling in my stomach coiled up as he spoke. “Yes, Valentino.” I closed my eyes and laid myself on his chest, the sound of his heart thundering under me.

“Good. Because the sooner you’re healed the sooner I can show you all the fun parts of being with someone you love.”

I felt him kiss the top of my head and curled up next to him, I fell into a deep sleep.

#the vees #valentino x reader #valentino x wife #valentino x you #vox x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin fluff #the vees x reader #valentino #hazbin x reader #valentino x female reader #vox #valentino hazbin hotel

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a-photo-of-a-cryptid · 5 months

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sigh. meaningless rant below cut (also art with eyestrain, you've been warned)

LOOSING MY MIND KMCDS

I KNOW NO WORK IS ORIGONAL BUT THIS IS - TOO MUCH

I MADE- AN OC THAT IS - LOOK AT THE ART I DID FOR HIM

I DID THIS BEFORE I KNEW WHAT FAITH THE UNHOLY TRINITY EVEN WAS I DID THIS BEFORE I KNEW ANYTHIGN ABOUT IT

BUT ITS NOT I DIDN'T COPY THEM BUT IF I WANT TO MAKE CONTENT OF MY OC WITHOUT PEOPEL ACCUSING ME OF COPYING SJNSS IDK CN

IM SO MAD I

I INVENTED FAITH THE UNHOLY TRINITY ASS STOREY FROM MY OWN HEAD AND NOW I CAN'T DO ANYTHING WITH IT

anyways just had to shout about that for a sec lmaoaoao- dw this is all like- I'm okay :) /genuine.

#faith the unholy trinity #faith the game #ftut #oc #oc art #original character #oc artwork #cryptid phytos

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what-is-love-babey-dont-hurt-me · 9 months

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New Year, New Me!

For the past few months, ive wanted to change how my blog operates. Since I dump everything here, it is so cluttered I can't find anything, and when I do post, I worry about my origonal stuff being drowned out. Ive decided that I want my general reblogs and fandom content to be separated. I want one fandom blog for writing, art, and asks. I want one personal blog for reblogs, memes, and my random thoughts.

Since my main (this blog) has 4000 followers, I decided to leave the choice up to you guys as to how i execute the split, since you are the people who will be impacted.

It should be noted that everything will be linked and easy to find and access!

#ive stopped adding to my queue for now so once it runs out the rebranding will start!!#this is a chance i myself wanted and im not under pressure to do this!#i want YOUR opinion #either option is no trouble for me so i am genuinely curious #and nope im not doing a tagging system for rbs. rbs are mindless to me <3

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sir-arlieosaurus-lung-struggler · 9 months

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Unconventional: A Short Story of Hiding in Plain Sight

Is a short essay written in 2023 on my personal struggles being Native American and AroAce, and how both subjects intersected in a small window of time.

Disclaimer⚠️:

anti-Native American racism

Use of "noble savage"

I think its fairly good, weather the writing is good or not i think it has a good message anyway.

Notes:

In the writing I use the name Wallace to refer to myself, but for context I present fem & still mostly go by my birthname, the people talking to me were using my birthname.

Info aluding to location is removed.

This also relates to my expiriences as a trans person but I'm closited to most people, so is not included

The names of others is changed cause it was fresh at the time and i didnt want to hassle reporting them.

Slightly edited from origonal

History has always been one of my favorite subjects. There isn't much reason aside from that the past fascinates me. Native units are different though. I was ecstatic! Beforehand, that is.

Walking into class on the second day, I already dreaded sitting down, only to be called an "American Indian" through the scribbles of graphite on worksheets. The teacher listed name after name of tribes nearby, he got to a tribe with a well known casino, its famous add campaign was shouted out from the kid beside me, with near no objection. All we are to them; our casino's tagline.

All throughout page after page, side conversation to worksheet, "Indian" rang through my head like the caws of blue jays. Imagine the discovery of discomfort displacing you far from anyone's mind when your history teacher reads blindly from a paper without a second thought.

Through the day, peeve soaked my clothes and I stomped on every drip and caw with the vexation of a murder of flustered crows as I ducked through crowded halls.

I wasn't even there. Not that I made that known.

I wasn't content to sit angerly in my hamster wheel of a head, If I was going to be angry, I didn't want to go through it alone, I was happy to at least vent to someone.

I sat down later for advisory, still soaked in irritation head to toe, I yanked my computer out of its sleeve and clanked at its keys till my frenzied fingers were sore, all class I deliberated my days into a lengthy group-chat email. Saying I was- am annoyed is an understatement, my eyes were incandescent as I slammed down each key. Whether I had history work or not I didn't care enough to do it, I wasn't in the mood to be called an "American Indian" for the next half hour by a paper for answering X Y & Z. I value my sanity over that any day.

I trampled the keyboard with every example I could think of, the textbooks, the kid next to me, the fact that in any history class I've been in all the natives are put under the blankets of numbers. I ended my rant venting, "Sorry if this is out of the blue or off topic or if I 'ruined tha vibe' or whatever maybe I'm just 'over-exaggerating' but I don't care right now… I can only hope we get more than a geography lesson in this unit." I took off my obnoxiously bright hat to see my Aro and Ace pride pins lining its rabbit face.

I've always "identified" as native, there was just never much else. Dads side is just smaller, and out of touch with one another. None of them ever talk.

My weekdays are spent looking at my grandmothers' walls, beadwork, and Formline, and family photos framing it from corner to corner. I've always been a Tlingit Kid. Through my mom and generations of women back till who knows when, I am my clans child. But my dad's side of the family being white, and me taking more after him, the impression I get, when I tell some people I'm native, is that I'm one of those "my grandmother was a Cherokee princess" girls. And that just puts me off from telling people I don't know in the first place.

Once a girl responded to my invisible native-ness with "... so you're white?" I can taste her entitlement every time I repeat her, as if she were owed any sort of "truth." What's the point? What do you want? To see proof of my brown family? My tribal ID? Me to wear my regalia 24/7? My blood quantum painted on a sign above my head?

In attempts to connect with my roots I picked up a book from the library, #ImNotYourPrincess seemed interesting by its title. There was one page that stuck to my skin. "It's strange to me how people always want me to be an "authentic Indian" when I say I'm kanyen'keha:ka. They want me to look a certain way, act a certain way. They're disappointed when what they get is.... just me. White faced, light haired... They want my culture behind glass in a museum. But they don't want me. I'm not Indian enough..." that page was part of the poem, Invisible Indians, by a Mohawk woman named Shelby Lisk.

Advisory September 29, still angered from history just an hour beforehand, I was already unamused with my day. Sitting down for class, I noted down any other things I'd heard from my peers for safekeeping on a word document. Today there was nothing, but I was irritated so I noted any semblance that could have been something as an angered precaution.

From there I went with the motions and hid my face from the dim windows and lights to avoid a worsened headache. I sat to chip away at the little work I had, seeing as it was a Friday, only to be met with an unwelcome whine of my name. "Wallace? Wallace? Wallace? Hey Wallace?" It rang in my worn-out ears like early morning bird disputes from the trees, "Wallace? Wallace? Waaaaaaaalllaaaaaace? Don't be rude Wallace. Wallace Wallace? Wallace?" Frustrated in giving him the time of day, I swiveled my chair in Gabriel's direction for just enough time to send the message of hey, bud I hear you, and twirled back, my face growing more and more sour as the moments inch by. All just for him to spit "Anthony likes you!" For the whole class to feast their ears upon.

His caws stained my expression as we shuffled our chairs around and he continued "Wallace? Waalaace?" We moved again, and without fail he still was in his territorial dispute with the neighboring crows. Get my name out of your mouth I thought. I just continued to angrily lean tired on tables.

We shuffled chairs again, (admittedly this advisory was, not productive.) too tired to take it much further than I already had shoved it, I pulled it past the backpacks flopped on the floor and stopped it by the counters on the wall. Another voice, chimed in "You like Jacob, right? That's why you're sitting so close to him?"

I sat with my right leg crossed over my left, my shoulders slouched to the back of my chair. All I could muster was a glare and stern "No."

The class ended, nothing productive coming as a result of it, and I continued onto lunch.

As I walked the hall, my tiresome time trickled down my cheeks. I was done. I crimpled my face in my light blue hood and sleeves and broke my voice as I shrunk on my lunch. A moment went by when I heard a voice through my whimpers.

"Are you ok?" Rea was sat at the other side of the table with her friends, all seeming concerned.

Through my hiccups I answered. "No." I've always wondered, why even ask? By the time you want to ask you've already answered your own question. That's my case anyway. As I explained my past few days, I was practically reciting the email I wrote yesterday. How I'm not an Indian, the kid at the other table in 1st period, how in my nine years in schooling all the white men had the privilege of being referred to by name while all us sliver of native kids had to go off outside our families is Billy Frank JR. How I wanted enough respect to not have words put in my mouth. How I already have enough on my plate. How I was overwhelmed.

Rea and her friends watched me concernedly as I sat shivering. They let me go on with my rant till I crumbled past speech, and they had some room to ask, "Do you want a hug?"

"Yeah."

I stood up in anticipation. She speed-walked over in open arms, her friends following close behind her. And we hugged in the aisles of lunch tables as she let me cling to her back and cry on her leather shoulder.

I doubt they anticipated many native kids' reading the textbook, not like there's many of us here, four of us in the whole thousand-plus kid school.

Being called something I'm not, in more ways than one, just felt- I couldn't explain it. The concept was quite earthly, grounded to me. But putting it to words others could understand, and so that I understood that feeling before sharing it, was foreign.

Later that night, I wrote to myself and the void in a journal on my phone (was what i said for the school asignment, it was really tumblr drafts). About my eventful last few days, my frustration, my exhaust, and I said as much. Reflecting on my week, I wanted to have a vocalization of just how, weird it felt. I doubt Anthony "liked" me, I barely knew his name, let alone had we talked. The concept of someone liking me romantically is foreign, unwelcomed. Can't be controlled by either side, still just as off-putting.

I image they were antagonizing Anthony alongside me whether he did "like" me, it or not. I don't make it too well known verbally, but I'm Aromantic. No romantic attraction. In my case specifically the type where any romance involving me feels, for lack of better, more concise words, gross. It's purely alien to me. I just don't understand it.

My first "crush" was conveniently chosen at the end stretch of kindergarten. It was almost cartoonish how much I faked it, even to myself.

By the time 6th grade rolled around, I had counted about 5 "crushes" up to that point. I made it to my 4th period world history class and while playing "would you rather" I talked with a girl who agreed that pineapples on pizza was delicious, we concluded it was because their sweet-savory-ness. We were sat close together, and we talked a lot. I figured out she was gay from her telling me she was excited to meet her crush at the park later for a mini date. I didn't even care there was "someone else" I was just perfectly happy that she was so happy. I felt weird, not feeling weird, but it took another year to read between the lines, to figure out it was admiration and close companionship. (And more like queerplatonic attraction, but I didnt want to delve into ALL that for a school asignment)

The night of the 30th, it took till I was pacing lost in thought and song lyrics till I thought of how to word it, "Just the idea of someone feeling a romantic way about me feels gross. Let alone a kid 1 barely know... like it feels so gross I wish I was more articulated to explain it, the best synonym I have at the moment is that I need a shower. It feels like, sticky- like the equivalent of I just got dunked in syrup and it dried a bit then my hair being covered in gum to the point I may as well just shave it."

I realize now, I'm not any of these people's "truth," I'm not what they expect. I'm native, but I'm not dark. I don't want to be a prince charming, or to be "saved" by one. I'm not what any of them name me. I'm not a "hostile Indian" or, better yet "Noble Savage" (both attributed to a documentary we watched in class). I'm not going to find "the one" nor do I want to. I'm not the words they put in my mouth, what they decide I am.

The days moved on. The class moved on.

The boys mostly stop bothering me.

The second of October, a new kid at the same table as add reading kid, chirped the headline of my morning, "If these people were still around today, Bugs Bunny would be their god." The only context I had was I think they were talking about aspecific region that used rabbits a lot in clothing and food, but the statement they were gone was laughably triggering.

From there kids didn't say much else. All I heard was my personal broken record.

From then on, I made sure I had my Aro and Ace pins, and my native pride shirts as often as possible, to show what I really am. At least if people don't know what the pins are they can assume I'm somehow queer and back off. At least I started wearing the pins at home. Not that many people would notice; or know what any of it means to me. But at least someone would. At least I know there are 3 more of us here, somewhere. Hiding in plain sight. At least I ultimately don't care for why people I don't know would care enough to comment. Or why I comment on them in all honesty. At least I can decide it doesn't affect me so I can scrub the stains gone. At least I have pretty good luck charms. At least I have Redbone's Come and Get Your Love.

I don't think its that I don't like history anymore, more often than not, I've learned, my favorite part of history is what is never taught.

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mtdthoughts · 8 months

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The Themes of Migi & Dali

If you've read my review of the anime on MAL, I've listed some of the themes I've discovered after completing both the Migi & Dali manga and anime. Here, I wanted to elaborate them and discuss how they are brought up in the story. The idea is for this post to be a tl;dr for all of my analyses of the story and this entire blog as a whole. Indeed, a lot of these come from various analyses I've written already.

It should go without saying that spoilers are discussed.

Anyway, here are the themes (in no particular order)

Revenge vs. moving on: This one is pretty obvious, as the twins started off wanting revenge, then with Migi gravitating towards happiness and moving on while Dali is stuck in the past looking to punish the one responsible for their suffering.

Deception, manipulation, and betrayal: Although the twins were fooling everyone into believing they were one person, Dali has frequently deceived and manipulated his own brother, and has even betrayed his trust with the Sali disguise. Similarly, Reiko has deceived everyone including Eiji into believing she is nothing but the perfect mother and perfect woman, while in reality her perfection is built on many lies as well as the betrayal of Metry, who saw Reiko as a sister.

Brotherhood and codependency: Because the twins had no one but each other when their mother died, it fell upon Dali, the smarter and "stronger" twin, to take care of himself as well as Migi, as he was essentially parentified (see my discussion titled "Parentification" for more on this). As a result, the twins initially had a codependent relationship, with Dali serving as the "parent" and Migi serving as the "child", which was ultimately unhealthy for both of them, especially for Dali who accumulated much more of the emotional burden and stress. Thus, one of the most significant challenges the twins had to face was overcoming their codependency and forming a stronger and healthier brotherhood.

Family, friendship, and love: One of the most significant recurring messages in the story was the idea that no matter what issues one faced, they could always overcome them by opening up to others such as family and friends (e.g. the Sonoyamas and Akiyama), as well as accepting love from them. Indeed, it was because of this love that Migi was able to move on from revenge and accept his new happy life in Origon Village, and it was because his love towards Dali that Dali was able to do the same. Similarly, Dali was able extend the same love towards Eiji to help him live on despite the guilt from killing his own mother.

Coming of age and self-discovery: The twins were becoming teenagers, a critical stage in their lives when they would begin to discover themselves. Initially, Migi was content with just copying Dali, but eventually realized his true self and what he truly desired. On the other hand, Dali was stuck with revenge and saw no other purpose, and eventually realized this as he rejected himself, once when he sacrificed himself for Migi, and again when he forced himself into Migi's shadow. Similarly, Eiji's self image eroded as a faced eroded after realizing he had pushed Metry, and he faced a major identity crisis once he had realized that he had killed her and was initially rejected by Dali. But both Eiji and Dali were able to accept their own happiness and imperfect selves thanks to the love extended towards them.

Sin, guilt, and redemption: Over the course of the story, Dali has committed many sins and transgressions against others, including Migi as well as Eiji. He likely became aware of his actions and was burdened by guilt, causing him to reject himself and his own happiness. Similarly, Eiji was also burdened by guilt after realizing that he had pushed Metry and saw himself as a sinner deserving of punishment, and later committed a grave sin by killing Reiko. Just as mentioned above, it was thanks to the love extended towards them that they were able find forgiveness and redemption in living the best they could towards atonement.

Duality and balance: As the story is centered on twins, there were many instances of duality, such as the twins themselves (e.g. their personalities and strengths/weaknesses), the opposing views of Origon Village as "Heaven" or "Hell", the two paths the twins took, and the characters of Reiko and Youko/Metry, etc. Although Migi and Dali have opposing traits and even beliefs, their journey illustrates an important lesson in balance, as (almost) all humans have traits of both twins. Indeed, these identical twins can be viewed as two halves of a complete whole, and one needs to be able to balance both halves to attain happiness and enlightenment in their own lives. For example, one should be as wise and prudent as Dali but also needs to remain innocent and open to love as Migi. Similarly, one needs to recognize their own faults and wrongdoings as Dali but also needs to have the strength to move on as Migi.

The curse of perfectionism, high expectations, and loneliness: Throughout the story, Dali, Eiji, and Reiko forced themselves to be perfect for various reasons. Dali became the perfect boy to pursue revenge as well as the perfect older brother to Migi because he needed validation. Eiji became the perfect boy and son because he wanted to be like the mother he admired the most. Reiko wanted to be the perfect woman because she sought validation from others, including her husband and Metry. Ironically, it was this desire for perfection that isolated them from others, and the admiration others had for them was a double-edged sword that placed unreasonably high expectations on them. They became mistaken with the idea that they were loved because they were perfect, and the high expectations made them more desperate and willing to take extreme actions, as they ultimately feared loneliness. Unlike Reiko, Dali and Eiji were able to break out of this loneliness and need for perfection because of the love extended towards them.

#migi and dali #migi to dali #analysis

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robophobus · 5 years

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It had to be done. (Reuploaded from my old account)

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coconutnunnicorn · 4 years

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A Thousand Lives Begin with One

As Told by A Monster will be featured in several instalments, please make sure to block IoS and [from my results anyway] it should keep you from ever stumbling across IoS like content which often features the triggers above. It IS capital sensitive.

Bellowing aggressively through the cosmos, her voice rang with absolute finality, “You can pretend all you like, but I’m not delusional.” Quieter now, her ethereal sound whispered into existence a prophecy, “Someday you’re going to have to wake up, and when you do, I will be there. Hear me swear on my mark,” the sacred silver slid through greyish blue flesh, “when the Sky meets the Sea you shall awaken from your sacred seat. With your wake I shall take my place, across the land I will pass my judgment.” Smearing the shimmering ooze over the glass tanks surface. “We will meet again, you cannot hide from me.”

TW: Mentions of death, insanity, carnage, kidnapping.

Imagine if you could, a world where everything was made of light, a plane of existence where everything was in a constant state of peace. Could you picture what that would be like for a girl who absolutely despised a leisurely days stroll? Imagine cracking your own skull to scoop out your aching brain, and multiply it by a thousand. Boredom so deep it could, quite literally, make you cry. Now imagine meeting the most interesting person by absolute chance, an absolute open book of contradictions. A being who was not made of light, but rather a solid mass of dirt, flora, and fauna. Across the surface moved strange patches of white, imagine a creature that constantly made some kind of sound. A woman who smelled of what sunshine should in the mind of someone who dreamed of far off places, places this woman was from.

Her name had been a sound that could never be put into words, but she said the little people that sometimes popped up inside her head would call her, Earth. The woman was accompanied by a slew of others, an ever exchanging mix, the only constants ever being the ones who called themselves, the Lunar and Solar Stars, or just the Moon and Sun. Earth had explained that she simply couldn’t exist without one or the other, both absolutely essential to her every waking moment.

Imagine how easy it would be to fall in love.

“I am forever, I am eternity, I am life and death, I am the sky and the sea. I am the very thing that keeps these parasites alive.” a sickening gesture was made toward the odd smoggy coloured masses that had cropped up almost overnight. “I live in all times, at all time, sometimes it’s confusing and people dont always understand.” A pause, a chat over drinks turning serious, the Stars nowhere in sight, but they can still be felt lurking somewhere in the darkness. Low her voice would turn almost sinister, “But they understand power, do you understand power?”

Imagine being a being of absolute light, and knowing you hold absolute power in this realm. You were literally called forth from the void by the will of the very Stars, Stars they claimed to be. Imagine realizing one day that you have absolutely no idea what is really happening around you, like some kind of awakening, imagine becoming aware that the very ground you live on belongs to something else. Something bigger, so much bigger than yourself that to be meeting another in person was enough to leave you reeling in confusion.

“Do,” a rather thoughtful pause, “you want to come with me?”

Imagine being given a day to think about a choice that would forever change your life in a way you had absolutely no control over. Imagine giving yourself completely over to an outside force, trusting it to protect and provide for you. Imagine being warned before you make your decision that things couldn’t ever be undone, you could never return home, you would have to live forever with this being so different from you. “Is that something you think you could live with?”

They called her a Star snatcher, a World Eater, a conquer of Gods and Titans. Her mood ever-fickle, her loyalty always changing on a whim. It always depended on how she felt at the time, and if she was in the right place to make kind choices. To be merciful. Imagine never believing that.

Seeing first hand the kind of monster the love of your life could be, the bile you had never known before rising from the back of your throat. Think of the way your eyes would burn for the first time as the sick expelled itself before you. “Awe,” a soft tisking tone, “Are you not feeling well, do you want me to take you home?” Imagine the casual tone of a killer as they pull a cloth from thin air to clean your shoes with. The soft kindness in everchanging blue orbs that seemed to only exist for you, Imagine seeing the sharp contrast of red sprayed against pale blues, browns, and greens that made up the ‘flesh’ of your best friend. Over the years and time spent with you, imagine the way she would change to fit your expectations of life.

A land covered in a vast expanse of wildlife, a world rich with nature and all its ethereal horrors and wonders. A world where trees touched the skies and rivers were so clear you could see the bottom of a bottomless pit. Imagine it being your new home, and knowing you can never go back to a world of light and pain-free bliss.

Imagine still being in love.

Imagine it taking a catastrophic event for you to learn that you have almost absolute power here in the realm of the solid as well, the power of creation. The Sun had fallen to the Moon in an estranged reality, a deep falling out leading to the undoing of almost an entire eternities worth of existence. Imagine delving your hands into the waters of a dying planet while holding the actual heart of another Star, imagine suffering the searing heat of a dying Sun. The person Earth had turned into as she died was the ugliest you could have ever imagined, think about the moment you felt the free-falling fear of a chair slipping out from under you. Imagine racing through a land you could never hope to know better than your hunter, clutching a dying Star to your chest, throwing yourself to the edges of the pond you did at least know. Imagine doing that while the person you cared for the most hunted you down.

Resurrecting a Star isn’t easy, and it isn’t without its consequences. Everyone paid a price that day.

Earth was never the same, to start there was now two, each a twisted mirror of one another, looking the same and yet disturbingly different. Neither choosing to actually address or acknowledge the other, they would make wishes or comments and the other would just move into action. It wasn’t always that way though, they regularly acted independently, one would wreak carnage unlike previously seen and the other would simply step in if they thought it was out of control and put an end to it.

Imagine constantly being addressed regularly by two people you dont know, who cant seem to see one another, but are constantly flocking and doting on you as if you’d vanish without their constant watch. Imagine never seeing the Stars or the person you loved the most ever again. Imagine watching one of your, now, precious pair being skewered by a beast you brought in from the outreaches of space. Imagine stumbling across them, “Go, Find Kayton, they will protect you.” Imagine finding that very person who had once coddled you with such absolution, and they simply look away as a figure you never thought you’d ever see again dragged you away to a place you never belonged.

Imagine dying in a world where you can never really die.

Imagine living a thousand different lives.

This Story can and will contain triggers such as mentioned below at certain times.

TW:

Mentions of Death, Death, Graphic Death, Carnage, Torture, Blood, Gore, Mentions of abuse, Abuse of most kinds [Some of this gets dark], Cannibalism, Cults, Deranged views

#A Thousand Lives Begin with One #origonal content #Earth #a world of light and love #a land of skies and seas #sky and sea #kayton and nova #planets #stars #angst #romance #otherworldly #sadness #suffering #alternate realities #As Told by A Monster #This is constantly changing

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