જ⁀➴ rayn, they/them, autism/adhd, lgbtq+ friendly, dms open (no advertisements, bots dni).
★ FANDOMS ★
percy jackson, marauders (fuck jkr), marvel, tangled, she-ra, the owl house, rocky horror, hadestown, heartbreak high, miraculous, the last of us, doctor who, wicked, hazbin hotel, arcane, maze runner, ninjago, the hunger games, shameless (us), spider-man.
𐐪ɞ CURRENTLY WRITING FOR 𐐪ɞ
the hunger games, hazbin hotel, percy jackson, genderneutral!reader, or any fandom above you request
finnick odair fanfic hazbin hotel fanfic percy jackson oneshots about requests
main platforms: my ao3 pinterest spotify
Hey, Little Songbird
(Finnick Odair x GN!Reader)
SUMMARY: Sejanus Plinth's great grandchild (you) gets reaped for the 69th Hunger Games. I intend to write up until post-mockingjay (Finnick will not die). Slowburn. This will be a series.
Current word count: 43,260 Chapters 13/?
District 4!Reader, Sunshine!Reader, GN!Reader
INSPO: Hadestown musical, Orpheus and Eurydice, Crimson Rivers (ao3:bizarrestars), literature and music
AO3
Notes: this is my first proper fic, so it improves as it goes, Chapters 1-5 are short and worse quality than the rest, please don’t let it deter you.
Information before reading
Chapters 1-5 combined
Chapter 6: Hey, little songbird, you’ve got something fine
Chapter 7: You’d shine like a diamond
Chapter 8: Down in the mine
Chapter 9: And the choice is yours
Chapter 10: If you’re willing to choose
Chapter 11: Seeing as you've got nothing to lose
Chapter 12: And I could use a canary
Chapter 13: Suddenly, nothing is as it was
Chapter 14 WIP
Aesthetics (Pinterest): tributes, team, arena, district 4
🎶✨when u get this, list 5 songs u like to listen to, publish. then, send this ask to 10 of your favorite followers (positivity is cool)🎶✨
omg im one of your favourite followers 🥹 tyy
(in order of rn)
Wet (i LIVE this one)
how to make crows cry
war isnt murder
Mr brightside
mitti ke bete
*other ones that are just as important but i cant fit all of them in 5 and i feel like more people should know them(not in order)
Just a girl
girls just wanna have fun
labour
dont cry for your daughters eve
feed us your girls
Ghar kab aaoge
all the dhurandhar songs lmaoo
NPC by cavetownnnn rhahhh
devil town :33
For us
SAILOR SONGGG
Update: im too lazy for this shit so um ignore if youve already been involved(if ur close to me and not tagged its because i think youve alr been tagged xx)
@kurobkasa @moro-thekebab-noodles @walking-mushroom @whackybird-offical @jess-is-toolazy @deltasimaginaryland @evelyn3377 @the-king-of-kaumidy @random-indian-girl (tag pipes i forgor her url ;-;;;) @fancysheepnacho
tagging: @theverycoolfish @eleventhirtythoughts @dramaticinlyf @istillwishforyouateleveneleven @arikakari @epitome-of-stupidity @aamtreeanalogy @classclowns @paraskeinia @ravensncrowsx + I love all of you but picking faves is so hard I just tagged whoever came to mind
Thank uuu @ineffablelyqueerwolfstarshipper i love this
• lover you should've come over by Jeff Buckley
• Arabella by Arctic Monkeys
• Lunch by Billie eilish
• Sweet Dreams TN by the last shadow puppets
• Cherry by Lana del rey
@edensolace @starcroww @b4rty-r0s13r-w1ll-fck-y0ur-m0m @regulusblack-potter @space-girliee @prongsievans @m1dn1ghtcanvas @moony-toast-mornings all the hot people who want to participate.
I really need to find that enjoyment in my fanfiction again. I’ve been reading through my ideas plan for Hey, Little Songbird and it actually has me so excited for it!! I’ve missed that feeling! Normally I find it in other people’s fics and I think I’ve made writing mine too much of a stress for perfectionism when it’s really fun with the right mindset.
I’m going to re-read Hey, Little Songbird before I post chapter 14 and then hopefully I can get back to posting regularly for it.
I think a part of me has been procrastinating it because I know the order in which my tributes die and I’m trying to delay it?? As if it wasn’t my writing anyway. That’s on me for writing a tragic Hunger Games fic i guess. They’re still gonna haunt the narrative when they’re dead though… so I’m in for a long painful ride.
idk what neurodivergent young adult needs to hear this but you are NOT supposed to give 100% at your job. I've gotten more promotions and raises since I started giving 40-60%, which my evil CEO uncle informed me is what bosses actually expect when they say 110%. My mental health has improved tremendously. I've spent 2 out of 5 workdays secretly writing my novel for the last 2 years and I've never been more respected and appreciated. Also--when you see glaring wasteful errors in the company's operating systems, say absolutely nothing! Embrace inefficiency. It is your friend in this capitalist hellscape.
"i don't comment on ao3 because i don't wanna be annoying or weird" skill issue + you greatly underestimate the power dynamic here, writing multi paragraph comments is like feeding a bunch of deeply insane and possibly starved ducks at the park and watch them go completely mad over having received a piece of bread
No one writes anything but smut, and when they do write something else, it's missing soul, or it's short, or it's OOC.
And SO many Fandoms are dead. Idk what's going on,
Are people reading somewhere else, because Wattpad, Tumblr, and AO3 are dead too?
And AI is EVERYWHERE
I don't know what to do, I can not live without my stories! I'm being so serious, life really sucks rn and I need to live another life in the fiction world and I can't.
EDIT: btw I'm not talking about people who are learning, I like to write, but I'm not super good rn. But I think it's easy to tell when some people are just writing for attention or something similar.
AND if you're worried about your writing, that means you care and i wouldnt worry. Trust yourself.
Im not trying hate, and this is not directed at anyone.
EDIT: thank you so much, I think I said something less for complaining and more for perspective.
Ive decided to just read a lot of comics like I did when I was younger lol.
Thank you, guys, for answering! Have a good day.
LAST EDIT I PROMISE: I love all the self-promos get it queen(or king)😙
Personally I hate writing oneshots which is why I’ve committed myself to long-fic Hunger Games and Hazbin Hotel which is A PROCESS and I am nowhere near done yet, but I LOVE long fics even if they take more time.
"he's not just going to stop coming," you point out, thumbing through a house decor magazine that karen wheeler had bought for you the other day. you were quickly becoming obsessed with the idea of decorating your own house the way that you wanted to. it was starting to get steve a little nervous. "he has a key and some major trauma. i'm glad he feels safe here, and i just want him to know how much he has a space here."
steve stared at you like you'd just said the most absurd thing he'd ever heard, a hand on his hip incredulously. "you want to give him a room?"
honestly, you didn't expect steve to be as opposed to the idea as he seemed to be now. you knew that they'd been arguing for a bit, especially with dustin getting into some bad trouble at school, but you were awfully surprised at his reaction.
you peeked up at him over your magazine, brows knitting slightly. "sort of. is that so terrible?" he sighed as you sat up, tossing your magazine on the cushion in front of you as you crossed your legs beneath you. "look, the spare bedroom has been a mess and loaded with boxes since way before we even got together. it's about time we do something about it."
"it's all my parents' shit," he said, rolling his eyes.
"yeah, and we'll do what we did with the garage," you told him. "take a guess if it's sentimental and throw it out or donate it if it's not. if they really cared about all that stuff, they'd have taken care of it by now, but they haven't."
"is that really our problem, though?" he asked, collapsing on the couch next to you as his hand came naturally to rest on your knee. "it's their crap, not ours. we can just leave it until we move out. whenever that is."
you tilted your head, brows raised. "'whenever that is'? steve, we have no clue when that's going to be. when will everything that's going on just suddenly stop? when will the military get out, and even if they do, will your parents even want to move back?" you shook your head. "i'm not gonna live with 'i'm moving soon syndrome', okay? i refuse to. i want that room cleaned out so the kids can stay in there and it stops stressing me out."
he stared at you, brow slowly raising. "it's stressing you out?"
"well, i can't go in there, can i? it still feels like i'm not allowed," you answered with a frown.
even steve could see why; the janky doorknob that made it a fight to get the door open in the first place, the boxes covering the floor, the dust creeping into the corners and covering the furniture, old picture frames from when his parents first got married covering the walls like a graffiti tag screaming, 'NOT YOURS'.
you sighed, hand coming to cover his own. "look, if not for dustin, then for the rest of the kids too. and my sanity."
he contemplated it for a moment, thumb running over your skin before he let out the most dramatic sigh you thought you'd ever heard from him. "fine."
you grinned, sitting up and leaning over to give him a quick, chaste kiss, hand on his cheek to turn him towards you. you pulled back with a small smile. "thank you," you said, kissing him quickly again before climbing off the couch.
his eyes widened as he watched you approach the stairs. "right now? seriously?"
"it's sunday," you told him. "our only day off. come on, let's do it."
with another dramatic sigh and a grunt as he pushed off the couch, he followed you, muttering about, "henderson," and, "your stupid soft spot for the kids."
you only grinned.
it was an all day ordeal.
for the first few hours, you were both sat on the hardwood floor going through boxes and deciding what needed to be kept and what needed to be donated. you kept a pile in the corner of old decorations that you thought would be cute around the house or in this room, smiling a bit to yourself as steve eyed it knowingly.
"so, do you really want the kids staying here, or do you just want a room to decorate?" he asked, raising his brows your way as you tossed another poster into the decor pile.
you smiled, shrugging as you went back to digging through the rubbermaid bin in front of you. "both, i guess."
"the other night you were complaining about them being here all the time," he pointed out, not accusing or judging, just wondering.
"yeah, well, they are kind of annoying sometimes," you admitted with a laugh, smiling down at a baby picture of steve and setting it to the side. "and they eat all our food, and they never clean up after themselves. but, i love them, and after everything they've been through... i don't know. i just think it's important that they know they have a space here."
his eyes stayed on your for a good long time, which wasn't abnormal for him, and the small smile that pulled at his lips wasn't either. "you're good at that."
"good at what?"
"making people feel invited. making people feel loved."
you paused, meeting his eyes with a bit of surprise in your own. "oh."
"coming from someone who's never had that before," he said quietly, "it's a real special thing."
you smiled small, settling back on your knees as you looked back to the box. "well, you and all those kids deserve to be both invited and loved. we're a strange sort of family now, and everyone should know that." you glanced up at him with a teasing smile. "you definitely know that. you're their damn mother."
"what?" he laughed, shaking his head. "i am not. if anything, i'm their dad."
"no chance," you disagreed, grinning now. "dads are protective and everything, but they generally just let the kids do what they want and don't have much to say about it. moms, on the other hand, are always in their business and getting on them about things. that's you."
"you get on them too," he defended lamely.
"no," you laughed. "i tell them to be nice and then i let you handle the rest. you are the only reason they've stopped leaving their wrappers everywhere."
he scoffed, getting worked up about it again. "well, yeah, because it's ridiculous! they're fifteen years old, they should know how to-"
he stopped, holding your eyes as you smirked. he held up a finger, shaking his head.
"that is not the same," he told you.
"oh, it so is," you teased. "and it's not a bad thing. i appreciate it, actually."
he frowned. "so, what? you're the dad, then?"
you giggled as you shrugged. "in behavior, sure."
"well, that's dumb," he mumbled, almost pouting as he went back to his box.
you smiled small, glancing down at the frame of baby steve and wiping the dust off of it. "well," you said, catching his attention again. "when we have kids that look like this," you held up his picture with a smile, "the roles will reverse. no need to worry, babe."
he glanced between you and the photo of his younger self, heart pounding as he realized what you were saying.
you'd spoken about it before, of course, but this was a definite agreement, sign, and acknowledgement that it wasn't just an idea, it was your future.
and that had him smiling way too brightly for just cleaning out a spare bedroom.
"i'm holding you to that," he told you surely, laughing a bit as you tossed the frame into the decorations pile.
you finished up the room by the next afternoon after your shift at the diner and steve's at rockin' robin's monday morning show. once the six hour track to finish out the day was set, he bolted home to help you finish the room.
you were already decorating.
steve had taken all the boxes out to the garage the night before, and you'd just dropped everything off at the donation center to get it out of the house.
everything except your decorations, of course.
the desk that had been in the room before had been shoved against the wall opposite the bed, away from the window and the door. you'd put up little hooks in front of it, a couple old hats hung on them with a variety of books lined up on the desk beneath.
the walls were covered with different 70s movie posters that his dad used to have hung in the basement, and the bed was now covered in the red and tan quilt sue sinclair had helped you make. there was also now a shelf next to the bed that had a few knickknacks you'd found on it - a miniature globe, vintage model cars, two coke bottles from 1967 with the first ever superbowl ad on it.
when he pushed the door open, eyes wide as he took the room in, you turned with a bright smile. "you like it?"
he nodded, eyes catching on the open closet doors just waiting for a backpack to be unpacked and shoes to be kicked off into it. "yeah, babe. i love it."
you smiled, pushing the last corner of the star wars poster onto the wall with some rubber glue before moving to his side. he immediately tucked you close, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as his eyes flicked over the room again.
"i think dustin will like it," you told him quietly.
"we'll see in a bit," he answered.
you looked up with knitted brows, humming a confused, "why?"
steve just grinned, nodding to the small clock on the wall. "school just got out. he'll probably be here in like ten minutes."
you snorted, nodding. "exactly why he should just have a room."
your boyfriend wasn't wrong, the henderson boy using his stolen key to push his way into your house only fifteen minutes later.
"hello?" he called, glancing into the living room and not seeing either of you. he waited for a reply and didn't get one immediately, shrugging then and pushing the door shut behind him.
he thought he'd seen your cars outside, but apparently not.
he moved to enter the kitchen, in search of an after school snack of course, but was shocked into stillness by a yell from the upstairs.
"dustin! come here!"
he furrowed his brows but followed instructions, turning and heading up the stairs towards your bedroom. he stopped there, even more confused as he grabbed the handle. "guys?"
"not in there, dude," steve said, coming out of the spare with a disappointed shake of his head and reaching for the boy's arm. "never in there. over here."
he pulled dustin along as you slipped out the doorway and held the door shut behind you, your grin way too wide for dustin's comfort.
he frowned deeper, looking between you both. "what's happening?"
"we did a little project and we just wanted to show you," you chirped, smiling as you gave him a small shrug.
"okay..." he said, dragging the word out with another judgmental glance between you two.
steve came to your side, nodding for you to open the door, and so you did.
you stepped inside, holding your arm out and exclaiming, "ta da! we cleaned out the spare bedroom."
dustin walked in, glancing around the room with an impressed nod. "cool. it looks good. but, why-" he cut himself short, eyes widening way too much as his eyes shot to you and steve, you tucked into your boyfriend's side all too snug and close. "are you pregnant? oh my-!"
"woah, buddy!" steve said, holding his hands out. "we're not pregnant. at least-" his eyes darted to you and you rolled your eyes, shaking your head. he looked back to dustin, "no, we're not pregnant."
"then, why do you need a guest room? it's not like anyone's visiting hawkins anytime soon," dustin said, a furrow forming between his brows.
"actually, we get visitors all the time," you hummed then, smiling gently at the boy. it didn't register for a few seconds, and then his shoulders dropped slightly, expression softening. "you're here almost every day, so we thought that you should at least know you have a bed to sleep in if you need. if you want to stay, ever."
in the last year, he'd put up walls beyond what you thought was possible for the sweet boy. it had made things difficult with the party, and with steve, and even, sometimes, with you. he had rough edges now, and had grown a bit restless and hard and rude.
but, he was still dustin. and you both still loved him beyond comprehension.
and for a few seconds as his eyes scanned over the little hat collection, and the star wars posters, and the homemade quilt on the bed, he looked exactly like he had before vecna had ruined your lives - sweet, soft, and appreciative.
he cleared his throat, smile thinning as he tried to get a handle on himself once more and looked to you both. "thanks."
"no problem, bud," steve answered, his smile soft and almost relieved as dustin walked further in.
he dropped his backpack on the closet floor, kicking his shoes off before moving to examine the collection of objects on the shelf. "wait, 1967? no way, this is sick!"
and you and steve just exchanged smiles, you leaning further into his side.
"i told you it'd be good," you whispered to him.
steve didn't answer, just pressing a kiss to the top of your head and turning back to watch dustin examine his new room.
but, as his heart warmed even more, he knew you were right.
thanks for reading! leave a request in the comments or message me privately! i love writing, so if you've got an idea you need fleshed out on paper i'd love to be the one to do that for you
Currently re-reading what I have of Hey, Little Songbird so far and, though I may eventually rewrite it once I’ve finished the fic, I’m pretty damn happy!! I’m always quite self-critical of my writing so it’s fun to re-read it after a while having forgotten shit. If I forget that I wrote it then I really enjoy it without having the urge to edit.
Help, just realised I posted this at 00:03AM on Jan 2nd. In my defence, it was January 1st when I started typing it.
warnings: singular mention of sickness (in a simile, blink and you’ll miss it, don’t panic). val is a perv.
notes/summary: a few weeks have passed between the last chapter timeline wise. we’re getting towards the more interesting bits FINALLY. (soon I promise). settling in to hell, bonding with vox (ish) and some time with val featuring a special guest.
wc: 4.0k ao3 link
<3~~~~~~<3
As time passed, you grew more used to the surroundings of Vee Tower. Vox kept you sheltered away from the damage of the streets, sugarcoating your experience blissfully. The worst you witnessed was profanity of rude interviewers and the occasional pushy photographer, which most of the time was Val anyway.
Aside from the obvious differences, your lifestyle wasn’t so different. All the work you had was similar to before, just without all the excessive brightness to it.
In some ways this was a positive break from all of the demands of heaven that had been weighing on you for so long. Now you could be worshipped the same, but without the pressure.
For once there was a freedom beyond the limitations of heavens rules. You didn’t need to pretend to be so composed and correct all the time. The new exploration was freeing.
In your free time, you’d decided to try and work on your powers, especially after all of Vox’s teasing about the rainbow magic of it all. You wanted there to be more to it than that. More to you. Before all you’d been allowed was showy displays and healing, so you’d never learnt any further than that.
After a day of work there was finally enough of a lull for you to sit in peace. You rested against the sofa, curling up comfortably into the pillows and waiting for Vox to be done with his work for the day.
Vel had just finished up another outfit to add to her collection and she’d insisted on you being there for the final process. Vox allowed it. He had enough meetings anyway that it was best to let Velvette watch over you instead.
It was safe to say your newfound freedom was beginning to encroach on Vox’s life. You couldn’t seem to manage being left alone down here, following him about like a loyal puppy and whilst it was good for his image - really good, he gleamed at the thought - it was becoming a hindrance to his work.
Business had been rolling in faster than usual over the last few weeks with the beginning of his promotion of you. There wasn’t a screen that you weren’t on. He made sure of it. With the fashion line, photoshoots, interviews and Velvette’s new potion, he couldn’t be too irritated by you. After all, you were practically a gold mine for him.
The worst part about everything was all your questions. Constantly confused about the nature of hell. He struggled to dismiss your questions like he typically would. When he’d brush them off, you’d just accept it and turn to a different focus to satiate your curiosity.
“Soooo how was the meeting? Vel said it was an important one about her new potion thingy? I have to say it looks quite sparkly and I do love sparkles.” You turned to lean over the back of the sofa to see him.
Vox’s screen glitched unhappily. “Oh Velvette’s been taking to you about this? I thought we agreed that you’d stay out of all of this.”
His words were firm, as always on this topic. You never got told about any of the inner workings of their business and it only fed your interest further.
“Well she wasn’t overly specific.” You half-pouted in disappointment.
“She’s just trying to stir up trouble by mentioning it at all.” Vox sauntered over to his desk without much of a glance at you. Always back to work. “And you need to stop asking.”
“I don’t think she’s trying to-”
Before you could finish your sentence, Vox turned his sound settings off, a volume down visibly flicking across his screen.
You stood up from the sofa, moving towards him with a frown at his pettiness.
You managed to get close enough to poke at his buttons before his attention snapped at you, speakers screeching around the room, electric zapping him to his feet.
Your wrist was caught mid-air between his claws.
Your breath caught at his sudden reaction.
“How do you do that?” You exhaled, voice retreating into softness. “You always know where I am even when you’re not looking.”
Moments like this reeled you in. They reminded you to be careful. To be what others wanted of you instead. You were always drifting between bouncing energy and gentleness. It was a stark contrast to everything around you.
You looked down at Vox’s grip on you before dragging your eyes up to meet his powerful gaze.
“Oh sweetheart,” He drawled dramatically. “I am always watching.”
Electric crackled fiercely, sending a static jitter up through you.
Vox’s wires stretched out, pulling down the display screens that hung above his desk.
Each screen glowed, illuminating footage from every angle of the room. At the centre of all was you and Vox, just as you were now with his claws still wrapped unregrettably around your wrist.
Your lips parted to speak, but you couldn’t find the words. Couldn’t place the feelings you were experiencing.
The differences between you were clearer than ever. The screens echoing a reality back to you. A reminder of what this was.
The TV overlord was looming over you, hellish red eyes, sharp claws, aggressive patterns and swirls. So dark. He was a demon. You forgot that sometimes. And you, glowing faintly as always, looking at yourself on the screen and realising you didn’t quite recognise the image before you. Your wing had healed, yes, but it wasn’t the same. It was still dented ever so slightly. Your eyes were a hue you hadn’t noticed before, a color that you couldn’t decipher the meaning of. And everything about you just seemed like you weren’t meant to be here.
Your wings fluttered lightly as you removed your wrist from his grip and stepped back.
“Always watching… Got it.” You smiled politely, but it wasn’t genuine and he could tell.
The grin that had adjourned his face didn’t seem quite so winning anymore at your reaction. You weren’t impressed. You weren’t basking in his power. You were just… performing. The natural energy had dimmed.
A part of him wanted to snap at that, but he knew wouldn’t work in his favour. You only responded to aggression with compliance. It couldn’t satiate his need to be truthfully, irrepressibly adored.
There were few ways he could achieve this.
He sighed, mumbling to himself before speaking clearly.
“The meeting went well.”
Your halo perked up. “It did?! Oh I’m so glad! It must be good for business. Is it good for business?”
“Yes.” He huffed at his own weakness. Why did he entertain this again? “It’ll be great for business. Especially if you stop asking so many questions.”
You thought about it for a second, still slightly startled. “I’ll try to stop.”
It was in your nature to be curious and you’d always tried to suppress that for heavens benefit. Whenever you asked Sera about Eden she’d always avoid it. She’d tell you it wasn’t your worry to carry. That sometimes people could make bad choices and they weren’t always who you’d thought.
Sera hated talking about it. She refused to hear the names of the fallen.
You asked Adam about it once. His answer only served to confuse you with its vulgar nature. He’d spat Lucifer’s name from his tongue as though it brought bile to his mouth. It hadn’t brought you much clarity
You just wanted to know what happened to your little friends. Why they had to go away. Why they had to change.
The secret plagued you.
The thoughts compiled together into an acknowledgement. Perhaps you were seeking answers here because the ones you so desired were out of reach. Maybe this wasn’t about Vox at all. You needed to fix it.
“I’m sorry for being so pushy.” You murmured.
Your apology took Vox aback. You’d worked up the issue to be something far bigger than it was. Sure, he could find you too lively, but it wasn’t apology worthy. It was almost pitiful, if it weren’t so sweet.
He looked over you once more, eyes lingering on your holy form for a moment too long as he resigned himself once more. He’d find a way to earn your admiration.
Otherwise you might run off for him and what would that do for his brand? He had an image to maintain. That’s what this was.
A transaction.
You get to play fairytale and he gets money and power.
“You haven’t been pushy.” He moved himself to meet your gaze.
“I just don’t think asking so many questions is good for that angelic mind of yours. You get too caught up in it.” He tried, framing himself in a certain light with his eyes looking at you with feigned concern.
“I’m meant to be protecting you down here and that means shielding you from the less… desirable aspects of my work.”
“I understand.” Your genuine smile returned instantaneously. You’d were grateful for Vox. In the last few weeks, you'd been kept safe from all of the scary parts of hell and kept in the dark warmth of the Vees tower all thanks to him.
You wanted to show your gratitude with the best thing that anyone could ask for. Quality time.
Everyone in heaven adored it.
“Hey, have you got much more work to do today?” You looked at him in anticipation.
Vox raised an eyebrow in intrigue at your question. “Why?”
“I saw you watching a familiar movie the other day. Does that mean you have the channels from heaven?” You looked giddy at the possibility of seeing something from home.
“Of course I have the channels from heaven, TV is my whole thing.” It was a silly question and his expression made that thought obvious.
An idea popped into your head.
“Can I watch it on your screen?” You teased, laughing at the thought.
He rolled his eyes in the same manner he would when Velvette was messing with him. The only difference was a momentary static blue darting across his screen.
“Yeah, no that’s not happening.”
“Awh, but what’s the point of having a TV for a head if you’re not gonna use it? Demon forms are so…” You tried to find a polite word. “Unique.”
He hummed.
“It’s not like I chose this form and hell isn’t meant to be fun. There’s no sunshine and rainbows here. This whole thing was a punishment.”
“Oh, did you have a fear of televisions or something?” You mused, carelessly fiddling with the remote on the living table.
“Not exactly.” Vox’s words were murmured unhappily, but you’d moved back to the sofa too fixated to notice.
You pressed the giant red button at the top of the remote, watching as the screen flicked on. “How do I find Tangled?”
His eyes narrowed at the topic change, an unimpressed look overtaking him. “The first thing you’re going to do is watch a kids movie. I mean I know you’re an angel, but really?”
Your lips parted in feigned outrage and shock at the less than pleasant tone. “Whoa whoa, it’s fun for all ages, thank you, and my being an angel has nothing to do with it.”
“Oh yeah, sure. It’s not like you glow like that princess and all.” Sarcasm laced in his cords.
He had a point.
You paused for a moment, letting the words process.
Once they hit you, you broke out into a fit of giggles at the comparison.
“You-” Your breath escaped you through the laughs. “-You must’ve watched the movie to know that.”
<3
With much effort, you eventually managed to convince him to find it for you, shuffling up beside him on the sofa.
This was the most fun you’d had since you got down here. Finally getting some familiarity of home. You cast golden light to outline the screen, trying to retain the glow of heaven.
Vox glanced at you curiously, but didn’t question it any further. You were always doing weird things.
You had such an energy to you that none of hell seemed capable of: a perceptible vitality; a mix of divine peace and lively emotion.
It was unfamiliar.
As the movie hummed in the background, your gleeful smile never seized.
Not until the ending. When night drifted in and you started to think. This beautiful tale of a lost princess being reunited with her family… Your family was so far away. You missed them dearly.
A sigh escaped you.
“Why haven’t they come for me yet?” The words drifted out in a pained whisper.
You’d been keeping that worry in, plastering on that same camera-ready expression and letting Velvette play dress up like you were a mannequin, but beneath it was that same insecurity.
The vulnerability caught his interest. He could twist this. Your emotions were so gently offered on a platter for him to feast on. And yet, he didn’t.
Vox buffered momentarily at the idea of him showing genuine kindness. It was nauseating to entertain. His eyes darted across his screen, claw scratching at his own shoulder subconsciously. He tried to laugh it off but it ended up more as a huff of air.
“Ah well, I’m sure they’ll be here soon. Not like they’d forget you in a hurry.”
He grimaced at his own words. They weren’t much, but typically he’d have just said he was busy and moved on. Why was he trying to placate you? It wasn’t the same as with Val. That was always for his own benefit.
“I don’t want to be stuck here forever.” The fear crept into your voice.
“Do you think it’s forever?”
Beyond his selfishness, his need for power, his need for you to be within his grasp, there was a part of him that jumped to reassure you. To say something more comforting and take your melancholy away.
Maybe it was the soft glow of your light, or the way that nobody in hell was quite like you, but something was stirring. A familiar attachment that was intrinsic to his nature. The last time he’d allowed this to happen-
His screen glitched suddenly.
Your eyes darted over to him with concern. “Are you alright?”
<3
The night passed, but the red hue of hell barely shifted into light.
You couldn’t sleep last night after everything. You’d definitely done something to upset Vox. He didn’t seem right. On top of that, the indistinct permanence of the situation plagued your consciousness.
You couldn’t deny it anymore. No fairytale would change that you were in hell.
The sound of Vox’s door opening captured your attention. As he walked out of his room he was still fixing up his signature bow tie, the business expression like stone on his screen.
“Val wants you down in his studio.”
You winced at the thought.
“Again? We already did a photoshoot a couple of days ago and I don’t like it down there it’s…”
Vox sighed preemptively.
“Yeah I know. All your heavenly bullshit makes Val’s studio seem all scawy, but you’ll be fine. You can handle it. I’ll take you down there myself, there’s nothing to worry about.”
You knew that you shouldn’t be judging Valentino too harshly, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to reserve judgement:
Vox, of course, hadn’t let you see half of what went down there. For all you knew, the worst that happened there was kissing and yet you’d still lectured Valentino about the fact that these people weren’t even dating each other, let alone married. He’d just laughed in your face at that speech, beginning to say something about how you had no idea until Vox cut him off.
Your natural compliance got the better of you once more, finding yourself agreeing to go down to the studio despite yourself.
The elevator journey felt colder than usual. Vox’s offer seemed to only extend to manhandling you to the doors and sending you downwards. It wasn’t as comforting as he’d upsold it.
The scent of the floor hit you at once. Val’s studio unpleasant as always, but it somehow felt worse in a way.
It wasn’t like the other times.
This was a different area of the studio. One that you hadn’t even realised you’d been sheltered from before.
Holy shock flowed through you at the sights burning into your retinas.
You averted your eyes instinctively, only to find more depravity to the left of you. It was all too much.
You had to get out of here.
Vox wouldn’t mind, right?
You turned back to the elevator, ready to make your swift exit…
a moment too late.
“Heavenstar! So glad you could make it.” Valentino’s hands were on you spinning you back faster than you could run.
“Oh you seem busy- I should come back another time!-”
The noises of the room rang in your ears violently.
“Please can I just go?”
Your plea sounded a little too desperate, it only encouraged him.
“Nonsense amorcito! I always have time for a pretty thing like you… Besides you might enjoy the show.”
His grin was so wide that the sharpness of his teeth finally hit you. Everything looked so sinister in this lighting. So hellish.
It was overwhelming to say the least.
Your eyes darted around the room frantically. There was so much nakedness, weapons or things of the sort and in the centre of the room was a movie set of some kind, props laid out around the room. Inside the set was a club setup, housing a spider-like sinner.
“Oh look at my two angels in a room together! Dreams really do come true. Are you sure Voxxy won’t let you fuck anyone because that would really make some money?”
Your eyes widened, unintentionally jumping from his hold at such a suggestion. “What?” You didn’t quite understand what he meant.
“Ugh nevermind. I forgot you’re a prude. I’ll talk to him about it later.”
You frowned in confusion at it all. Everything was so overstimulating. The lights were warring between evilly dark and clinical glow, really encapsulating the uncanny feeling of Valentino’s studio. The sounds didn’t seize, they were amplified by speakers in every corner.
The others in the room didn’t let your presence go unnoticed, every sinners eyes darting over you, most with some sinister mix of awe and hunger. You were the prey here.
“What did you need me here for?” The question whispered unwillingly. The sooner you got whatever it was done, the sooner you could get out of here and back to the safety of your shark-filled rooms.
“Oh you’ll see.”
“That’s not very specific-”
“Always so whiny, cariño, just enjoy the view. You’re getting it for free yknow, people would kill for this.”
“I don’t like it.” Your face was scrunched up uncomfortably. You’d managed to quiten some of the noise with your powers, but it wasn’t blocking it all out.
“I need to get some more pictures of you. Just need you on that set once angel baby is all done.”
You worked up the courage to drag your eyes back over to the direction Val was indicating. You didn’t quite understand what was happening. It was all so messy.
There were scary sinners dressed in scary outfits holding mean weapons, all of which were semi-naked in the places that mattered. Your hand came to your own throat instinctively at the sight before you, as if soothing the pain you weren’t even experiencing. It didn’t look fun, yet the spider wouldn’t stay quiet about how good it all was.
“Does he… like it?”
“What does that mater? The whore’s gonna be rolling money in.”
You frowned unhappily at his words, eyes flickering with concern and anger. This wasn’t right. You squared up to the astoundingly tall moth by looking up at him with attempted reprimand.
“You should be nicer.”
“Nicer.” He mocked. Your word choices were so juvenile to him. Innocent ideas of good and evil. “You’re in hell now ‘angel’.” Valentino poked at you like you were nothing more than a fly. Aggressively hitting the centre of your chest.
Electric sparks shocked from his contact.
The same sparks you’d seen when you’d made your deal with Vox.
Valentino couldn’t hurt you. Relief flowed through you, your eyes returning to your typical color.
Once the scene was finished, Valentino indicated for you to take your place. The sinners before left the set, the spider brushing past you towards one of the dressing rooms, but not without his eyes glossing over your wings.
“You’re not going to clean it up?” You grimaced at the sight of the set around you. There were so many substances, bodily fluids, blood and drugs lying about.
“Where’s the fun in that? I might not be able to touch you, but this’ll work just fine.” Behind his heart-shaped sunglasses was an undeniable glint in his eye, encouraging his perverse ideas.
<3
“I don’t understand it!”
Vox huffed frustratedly. “Yeah well you shouldn’t have seen it. I told him to keep you in his private room away from the main studio. Look, it’s not like I’d have put you down there if I knew you’d get all traumatised about it.”
So… maybe he’d given Val permission to toy with you more than usual in attempts to sever whatever attachment he was developing. He hadn’t realised you’d go all wide eyed and hectic about it.
It started to occur to him that it may not have been the best idea. A glitch of guilt fluttered in, but was quickly overridden.
You weren’t reacting well.
Yes, he thought it was crazy that you weren’t used to all of this, but he understood that heaven was prudish like that.
He knew what they’d made you for, what they’d sold you as.
Perfection.
And, of course, that involved purity. It was no wonder you were so lost down here.
You continued on unhappily.
“He uses all these words that I don’t understand and then laughs at me for it.” You grumbled.
Hell was starting to frustrate you. There were so many new emotions taking over you. The days of sunshine’s and golden skies were seeming more and more distant as the weeks drifted by.
You weren’t even happy in heaven though recently. Not truly since the Fall, even so long ago. Once that had happened, humanity changed and their expectations crushed your spirit bit by bit.
“That’s just Val.” He waved you off. “Besides you know so little it’s almost comedic. You can’t really blame Val, sweetheart.” Vox’s light chuckle made you huff.
“Well I don’t want to know about his sins anyway.” Your instinctive curiosity was shrouded by your outward frown.
You were changing slowly. Even Vox noticed it. The range of emotions you were showing was almost… human.
“Hm, can’t blame you there.” He looked over you for a moment. “But you might want to stop walking around here so naive. There’s only so much I can protect you from.”
“I just want to go home, Vox.” You were done with this. Your mind was hazy from earlier in a moral panic. You couldn’t think clearly.
“No you don’t.” The lights flickered with instability.
What?
How could he think that? Of course you wanted to go home! It was better than here. Sometimes. Other times you felt like heaven was suffocating you in a different way.
But Vox’s view on this was unfounded.
“Why wouldn’t I? It’s heaven! Why would you just assume-”
“We’ve already established that I have access to all of heavens channels.”
He took a step closer, though your head was spinning.
“You think I haven’t seen you before?”
Vox leaned closer, wires expanding his figure.
“You’re their goddamn saviour. Their holy project of perfection. Your face is everywhere, angel.”
Mockery seethed through his aggrandising words, the electric crackle of his voice reverberating.
“And I see you.”
“For what you truly are.”
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺
Notes: (from AO3 cause they were actually necessary today)
I have some literature references scattered in here as usual.
I’m SO EXCITED for next chapter.
Upcoming we get to find out what’s going on in Heaven… see some more of Velvette… get into the eventual smut aspect of this (yet I’m not sure exactly how in depth I’m gonna go just yet).
EDIT: my girl Lute is finally gonna be introduced toooooo alongside some others.
And then soon it’ll be S1 timeline which will be moderately canon compliant, but with the beautiful addition of us.
SIDE NOTE: I JUST REALISED THAT I FORGOT ABOUT MY MINI CLIFFHANGER FROM LAST CHAPTER- IT WILL BE CONTINUED TOO DW
As always, I appreciate comments as they fuel my ADHD riddled brain to actually WRITE. I love them all so much, even if I forget to respond, they genuinely make me so happy. Also, I definitely consider suggestions etc. plot wise.
Love you guysss
warnings: brief mention of sewing needle, blood & injury
notes/summary: missing home like a certain fallen angel… inner crisis from falling out of the sky less than a day ago. vox’s plan begins slowly
wc: 3.7k ao3 link
<3~~~~~~<3
Despite his proud declaration, Vox did not proceed to tell you his plan. Instead, he pushed you into another room in a hurry, muttering something about all the work he had to do and directing Velvette to call Valentino up to the office immediately.
He was too occupied with everything to care about where exactly you were, as long as it was safe in his tower like a little fairytale.
He ignored the fact where he’d be the villain and you the captive.
The room he’d led you to was anything but quaint, even as a spare room. It was all a show of wealth and his status. The walls were so blue, just as everything else in the tower, and it had an overarching theme that you’d began to recognise…
In the centre of the room, descending down from the ceiling and seemingly running through the lower floors, was a cylindrical fish tank full of all sorts of species which you’d never seen before. In heaven, the fish were a bit less carnivorous and far more colorful. Nonetheless, the sight intrigued you.
The door closed behind Vox with an abrupt swing, leaving you alone for the first time since you’d arrived. Silence befell aside for the gentle blubbering off the fish tank and it finally gave you a moment to think. Even now you’d barely come to terms with any of this. Your injury. You’d never had so much as a bruise before, let alone a misshapen wing. From a fall. Maybe even the fall.
It brought back memories.
Ones you thought you’d suppressed. Back at the beginning, of humanity, of you. There were many lost to that time. Angels you looked up to, even admired. Their vision for heaven something beautiful.
It helped form you.
Allowed you to fit to their picture of heaven for a time, until they were condemned and with them, your freedom fell.
Those early days were so different from now. That warm golden glow of a time when you could soar about like a shooting star, carefree, youthful. Without the ever growing pressures of humanity.
What was your role now? If you were supposed to be a figure for heaven and now you couldn’t even be in the place you were meant to represent?
How did you get down here?
None of it made sense and every time you tried to remember, a searing ring would tear through your ears and halt your thoughts.
Something was terribly wrong.
You entertained that thought for a mere second.
No, no. That couldn’t be possible. Everything was okay.
You’d repeated that all day like a mantra, every time something startled you. Like that pushy moth man always touching you up. It was fine because he didn’t mean it. It was a mistake. Nobody would be so inconsiderate of others.
But then again..
The images flashed through your mind of hell’s depravity. Could sinners truly be so terrible?
You were stuck in a paradox. All around, the answer was sin. Either Vox was lying or this evil was real. Neither option befit anything you’d ever known.
It was all too unfamiliar! You crashed onto the bed, wings fluttering in frustration and then once more with anguish at the abrupt movement. You curled up into yourself, imagining home. Your soft cloud. Better than any mattress. Purer than anything. Bathed in golden skies.
The thought was enough to pacify you towards your much needed sleep.
<3~~~~~~<3
In the meeting room, Vox’s storyboard was plastered on every TV showing doodles which dramatically detailed his “genius” plot. Unfortunately for him, Valentino had lost all interest the moment that Vox refused to let you work in his studio “for now” to uphold their unique selling point of your holiness.
“We can tear them down later. First, we need to rise them up! Take heavens image of them and sell it to the people of hell!” His words were accompanied by… interesting visuals as he energetically pointed at each aspect of his plan.
“Yeah yeah, so we use their little angelness and put it on some billboards. Then what?” Velvette didn’t bother to loom up from her phone screen.
“Whatever you want!” Vox announced, grandly spreading his arms out.
“You can have your own fashion line going, Val can get some little photoshoots, nothing too steamy just tempt the sinners a bit and then… then we can start selling the big bucks. Their blood seems to be quite the drug.” His laugh was bordering on maniacal, cheers of applause erupting from his speakers.
At the confirmation of her fashion line, Velvette looked pleased, though she was going to do it regardless of Vox’s permission, it was always good to avoid any more petty fights.
“Ah ah Voxxy, what about all my ideas?” Valentino wasn’t as happy, immediately trying to pitch all of his fucked-up porno ideas to Vox, whilst whining that it was unfair of Vox to keep you to himself.
“Reel it in, Val. My end of the deal was to offer them protection from other overlords… You included. I don’t think your fucked up shoots are going to work for them.”
Vox knew his reply would upset Val, already in motion to placate the moth.
“You’ll have your chance in due time.” He ran his claws along Val’s covered chest smoothly, looking at him with a promising expression.
Velvette scoffed at their interaction, fed up of their bullshit - her words. She had plenty of work to get done without those two idiots fucking around.
<3~~~~~~<3
The rest you got felt all too short. When your eyes refocused, you were met with the frantic eyes of a TV head looming over you. For a moment it all felt like a bad dream.
“Oh! Vox. You’re back-” You forced a polite smile onto your face, despite the unfamiliar craving for sleep trying to lull you back under.
“Of course. I couldn’t leave my star for long, I just wanted you to get some much needed rest.” Whatever you wanted to hear he’d tell you.
“Oh… that’s nice of you. Thank you.”
“Just keeping to my part of our little deal.” He grinned. “Now, I just need something from you. Nothing big, just a small appearance live on television!”
“To do what?” Curiosity overtook you as usual.
“Show hell that lovely face of yours! Let them know an angel walks among us!” His arms stretched out in grandeur, caught up in his showmanship.
“But you said that it was dangerous out there- Why would you want to-?”
“Ah ah. It was dangerous out there, but not anymore. Not with me! I’m just too powerful to mess with.” Vox boasted. “And think, I’ll show them not to mess with you either. Together we’ll be unstoppable.”
His words captivated you. They were a promise of unity. A connection you craved beyond the responsibilities of your time in heaven. Something free.
At the hope in your eyes, Vox continued his pitch.
“I can make you something more. Something greater. The people of hell will be inspired by you!” He gestured grandly.
“Like the humans are?” You looked up at him hopefully.
“Yes, exactly like the humans are! You’re just widening your audience.” That familiar sound echoed from his speakers, signifying that you’d answered correctly. Vox placed his hands on your shoulders, manhandling you towards the elevator once more.
“They’re going to love you! Especially once that wing of yours is healed up.” He lightly brushed over the bandaged area, quickly enough to avoid protest from you.
What he was saying made a great deal of sense. If your role was to encapsulate heaven then maybe your presence would benefit hell. Especially with Vox’s help. He was being so generous.
“All I need from you is that pretty face, smiling and waving, you can do that for me can’t you?”
It was your specialty. You smiled at him assuringly as he spoke sweetly to you, eyes wide on his screen.
“Nothing I haven’t done before.”
There was a lingering curiosity in his gaze at your reply as his grin persisted. He wanted to know more about heaven, what exactly you were willing to do. Everything he knew before now was assumptions or biblical promises. Regardless, that was a thought for another time.
The elevator dinged and you found yourself in a spacious atmosphere different to the earlier electric blues. This floor was expansive, detailed in pinks, whites and purples with mirrors and posters all around. Velvette practically blended in with her surroundings.
Lined up were almost 20 different outfits, all crafted carefully. The last few had sinners hanging off the sides, embroidering with such speed as to avoid her criticism.
“Hey poppet. These should be to your measurements unless one of these idiots fucked up.” She played around with the first few in the queue, making sure they’re up to her perfect standard.
You looked at the array in awe. How long had you been asleep for? It couldn’t have been long and yet she’d managed all this.
The colors she used were so… heavenly. Homely. Your smile widened, eyes shining happily as you thanked her gratefully.
She barely gave a look of acknowledgment before looking back at her phone screen.
“Look, I’ve got everything angel-related ready and trending. Val’s gonna pause some of his stars productions in the meantime to try and drag the focus onto you. Just don’t fuck this up.”
Her bored attitude didn’t dispel your joy. You understood people acted differently. I mean, it wasn’t like Sera was all warm and fuzzy, but she showed she cared in different ways. And for you, the fact that you had such a stunning variation of outfits was meaningful enough.
Vox noticed that you were taking it far too appreciatingly, but that suited him for now, so he played it up too.
“Yes ever since Velvette laid her eyes on you, she’s been drawing up all sorts! You’re just so… inspiring.” Vox nudged you towards Velvette encouragingly causing her to grimace.
“Yeah, yeah. Talk it up V, like you haven’t been just as captivated.” She rolled her eyes when his screen gained a faint blue static momentarily. You didn’t notice it, too busy running your fingers over the elegant fabrics before you.
“It’s so divine!”
Vox chuckled at your unceasing amazement, finding your weird delight entertaining. They had fashion lines everyday. This wasn’t anything special, yet you treated it as the greatest gift.
“Now run along, we need you on soon so no fluttering about. Velvette will help you get ready.” He leaned forward to inspect the outfits as you’d done before pointing. “This one will do.”
Velvette scoffed. “Of course, it’ll do. It’s stunning. Now shoo, I can handle our little angel.”
The air crackled with an electric current, the white strip lights above flickering ever so slightly as a static cut through Vox’s screen. It was darker. In every sense. The room, his voice, the energy. “Our angel?”
“Yeah. They’re not yours, V.” Velvette knew exactly what she was doing, a cunning tension stirring.
You played with your hands anxiously at the sudden uneasiness.
Vox glared down Velvette with a sudden intensity that made you shake. He hadn’t seemed scary before. Sure maybe a bit intimidating, but mostly just positively spirited. You moved slightly closer to Velvette instinctively.
Wrong move.
His claws were on you quicker than you could think. He’d practically zapped there, staking his possession.
“I’m staying.” The static crackled, a disquieting, challenging grin spreading across his screen as his teeth strained in restraint.
“Fine. If you want to be pushy.” She dismissed, leading you to the dressing room regardless and replacing Vox’s touch with hers. As she did so you could sense the pleasure she felt from stirring the drama. She was clearly made for social media.
“You better get used to this, poppet.” She whispered, quiet enough for Vox not to hear over his petty seething.
You didn’t quite understand what was happening, evidenced by your face. She only looked more entertained by that. You captured her attention surprisingly well.
She got you sorted into the outfit Vox picked, but ignored his insistence that it “should be more blue” and allowed you to have your angelic colours untainted.
As she continued to dress you up like a mannequin, she hummed approvingly at her work, mumbling something about how brilliant she was.
The Vees were self-assured, you noticed - some may say prideful.
“Get Val down here for eyeliner. If he’s going on camera too, we can’t have him ruining the shot.” She demanded at Vox, who just rolled his eyes back. They had such a strange back and forth.
“He’s going to complain at me if I word it like that.”
“Then word it differently, genius.” She spat bluntly, earning a begrudging grumble from Vox.
He still wasn’t happy about earlier. He’d show her. Show her you were his. Show them all.
The thoughts swirled in his TV head like an evil mastermind, his own ego distracting him from his original plan once more.
Suddenly, his idea clicked back into place, his front returning.
“Oh yeah! Sweetheart, while we’re at it I just need to take a little look at your wing.”
This made you tense, halting Velvette’s movements uncomfortably. It was a sore spot. You didn’t want to think of the imperfection.
“…I don’t know. I think it’s all okay.” You forced a smile.
He wasn’t asking. He’d tell you that if he didn’t think it’d get you fluttery like a baby bird ready to flee.
“Oh come on.” He brushed off, trying to quell your worries with the assistance of his swirling eye. “Just let me take care of you. I promised to, right?”
You thought about it. “…You did.”
“And I can’t break a promise, can I?”
That’s true. Promises can’t be broken. They’re holy (not in hell).
“You can’t.”
“So…”
“I should let you?” You wanted to answer correctly, there was an urge for compliance set within you.
“Perfect!” It was as though he’d expected you to give in, already in motion removing your DIY bandages. Around him, Velvette continued to work on the final details of your outfit, making the last tweaks and glaring at Vox every time he got in her way.
As your injury hit the light, the remnants of gold shimmered gently. The fall hadn’t been kind. Your pain wasn’t met with the same agony you felt, instead it was a glittering opportunity. Vox stared eagerly.
You were too distracted by the sudden pain to notice.
He quickly tore away the rest of the fabric holding your wound together, causing it to re-open slightly where the feathers met the bend. Gold flowed out. You screeched.
Velvette grimaced at the way it made you move from her touch, glaring at Vox. Sure, she knew this was a part of his plan, but she wasn’t happy with the way it affected her. What an inconvenience.
“Stop making them fidget, it’s messing with the look.” She chastised.
Vox played it off as a mistake and, of course, you believed it once his other hand came to soothe you. He meant no harm. That’s what he told you.
He couldn’t harm you. It was in the deal. Wasn’t it?
“I think I should try to heal it- I didn’t have the energy before, but it might work now.” You murmured, trying to get him away.
Vox scoffed at the suggestion.
“No, no, I’ll just fix it up. It doesn’t need your weird rainbow magic.” He brushed his claws over your feathers.
“It’s not rainbow magic-“ You’d had this conversation earlier.
“Oh I know, Sweetheart. It’s not ‘rainbow’ just light and water powers. Well, that is rainbow. Semantics.” Vox pushed to prove his point once more.
Once he’d manouvered your wings to the right position, he looked over to Velvette hypnotically while continuing to talk to you. Velvette was sewing on a final star onto your sleeve until her finger slipped, needle poking at your arm.
It startled you. Enough so that you didn’t feel the small vial against your wing, collecting up the golden fluid.
Velvette didn’t acknowledge her slip, continuing on with her earlier precision.
“I thought angels are supposed to be invincible. Looks like you’re defective, Cariño.” Valentino sauntered past the beaded curtains of the room, teasing you unhelpfully.
The comment made your eyes flicker with emotion. It was only worsened by the obnoxious scent of his smoke. It was dizzying even though Vox had forced him to use a weaker one since the earlier debacle.
“Val! How nice of you to make it. If you could refrain from upsetting my dear angel, it’d be appreciated.” Vox’s placating tone bordered on patronising, but it seemed to work for Valentino.
“I’m not upset.”
It wasn’t very convincing, but you weren’t meant to ever feel upset. It wasn’t how you were made.
“And I’m not defective. Angels aren’t invincible, we can all get hurt just not permanently by normal means.” You fiddled with your sleeve uncomfortably, trying to ignore the various pains you were feeling.
“Oh so there are ways to make angels bleed?”
There was something off about his tone. Even you could spot it. Before you could think too much on it, Vox cut in abruptly.
“We need to be out there in 5 minutes, Sweetheart. Just let Velvette finish up her work.” His words were grated through his teeth, only held together by his typical performance, finally having enough of all the detours and irritation.
Soon you’d be out there. On display. His angel. And all of hell would see it. He needed everything to be perfect.
Once Velvette was finally done with everything, she looked over you in admiration. Of herself, of course.
“I’ve done it again. The look is gorgeous. Every sinner in hell will wanting this collection once they see you.”
For once, the doll looked content.
It was nice to see. There was joy in hell. It wasn’t so bad down here. Sure, maybe their happiness stemmed from ego and arrogance and hints of self-gain, but at least it existed.
“Can I heal my wing now at least? I don’t want it to look like this out there… What will they think?” Your hands glowed anxiously anticipating the reply.
You really didn’t want to be seen like this. Not after Val’s comments, or even Vox’s before. Defective. Damaged.
That wasn’t what you were meant to be.
Vox’s screen glitched in frustration at your insistence on the topic, but he supposed you were right and he had enough blood for what he needed. At least for now.
“Yeah, yeah. Sure. Get yourself all fixed up before we show your angelic self to hell!” Cheers erupted from his speakers as he plastered on a begrudgingly fake smile.
“Thank you.” Within moments you’d reached across to gloss over your injured feathers with much more care than any of the Vees had given. Your fingertips lit up golden, as per usual, flowing the light through your injury and humming gently.
The others looked interested when it healed up almost instantly.
“See not always rainbow magic. Light.” The words were soft but point-proving.
This cut Vox out of his awe, instead scoffing at the way you still insisted you were right.
“3 minutes now.”
<3~~~~~~<3
You were led out into a studio which was carefully guarded and without any live audience. Though Vox advertised the event as a livestream, everything was going out on a delay with plenty of time to edit out any potential errors. He didn’t tell you that though, the more pressure to perform, the better you’d behave.
You’d done plenty of things like this before: motivational speeches, video shoots, announcements to winners. Anything asked of you.
“Wow look what we have here! A little haloed bitch.” The woman vaguely waved her hand up and down, indicating at you features, before extending a hand. You obliged the silent request, letting her take your hand which she shook violently. “Now, take a seat right here, and don’t you move an inch or the cameras might eat you.”
An expression of sheer panic crossed your face momentarily.
“Kidding! Oh you should see the look on your face! I sure hope they caught that on camera! It will be perfect for the papers once everyone gets sick of you.”
This didn’t reassure you.
Vox was just watching with a mixture of entertainment and guardedness. He didn’t want her to push anything too far and mess up your first public appearance.
“Katie… pleasure as always.” Vox’s go-to move was evidently flattery. You could see that now.
Her attention diverted from you instantly, immediately switching over to Vox, who was much more interesting to her. Their conversation was cut fairly short once she started getting on his nerves. He insisted that the interview begin, sitting down beside you and eagerly wrapping his arm around you.
You let him.
Even though you’d have had to let him regardless. Whatever he needed for his image, you’d provide. This was your job. Right?
You sat through the interview as Vox upsold you. He spoke of everything heaven too had promised: your purity, your righteousness, your perfection. It wasn’t too different. In some way, that was a pain. Another cage. But as he smiled at you winningly, you felt valued in a new way. Special. Useful. Cared for.
It was enough to place that promised smile on your face, pleasing the other Vees who’d spent so long on your appearance.
Every so often, the interviewer, Katie, would ask you a question and you’d look to Vox for permission to answer before softly chirping out whatever reply necessary.
You were doing well.
As the camera beeped off, the validation flooded in. You were drawn to it like a moth to light.
“Everyone’s going to love you.”
<3~~~~~~<3
Within a few hours, your face was decorating every screen and billboard in hell. The news of an angel rang through the streets, leaving no creature unknowing.
You were a recognisable face to all of heaven-spawn. A guiding light that could never be forgotten once seen.
warnings/notes: mentions of drugs and blood. val is a freak.
wc: 1.5k ao3 link
<3~~~~~~<3
As you drifted back towards consciousness your senses were on fire, an overwhelming discomfort immediately hitting you.
The air wasn't the same as before with its gentle electric hum replaced by an uncanny smoothness.
Across the room was a muffle of noise, two voices bickering about something or other, which you couldn't quite make out in your exhaustion.
"What the hell, Vox. You found an angel lying on the street and didn't call us immediately?"
You were almost lulled back to sleep.
It was as though a heavy cloud had consumed you, offering you home to rest on. A smoke filled your lungs with a smooth intensity. You snuggled your head further into the warmth of your arms, absolute bliss overtaking you.
The feeling was a false promise, shattered when a sudden sense of urgency shook you. Something caressed your wing, the injured, imperfect one - the sign of your fall. The touch was inquisitive yet also entitled in the way it paid no care about ruffling your delicate feathers. The sensation caused your whole body to shiver, jolting you uncomfortably awake at the violation.
"Ooh, someone's jumpy." A voice taunted from far too close to you, lingering just above your ear.
The comment earned an unimpressed sigh from the other presences and you murmured uncomfortably in your daze.
The whole atmosphere was dizzying.
A cloud of red swirled together with the sharp blues of the windowless room leaving you disorientated.
"Hands off, Val. They get all touchy about their wings." You could practically hear the eyeroll in the distant voice, analysing the uneasy confusion on your face.
"Ugh, you never let me have any fun, Voxxy."
The weight on your wing dissipated after one final stroke, the moth having begrudgingly removed himself once met with Vox's firm glare.
You were starting to process the environment finally. There were 3 people in the room. All familiar enough by the way their faces were plastered on every poster in sight. They all looked at you with some level of sinister intrigue, yet you failed to identify that, instead just staring at them with an optimistic smile.
They were going to get you home and everything was going to be joyful and carefree once more.
The shortest figure let out a scoff at your expression, turning to Vox with an incredulous look.
“This does not fit our brand."
"Oh my dear Velvette, think bigger than our current image. This could change everything."
His screen glistened with giddy excitement, arms stretched out dramatically as he upsold his vision.
"If it's so important, then why do they only have the deal with you, huh?" She snapped back confrontationally, as if her intention had always been to trap him in his own grandeur.
Vox’s screen flickered momentarily, but he recovered quickly by spouting some nonsense about how it was for the greater good of the three of them that only he was responsible for you, making you sound like a nuisance in order to appease them.
Whilst they spoke, you sat staring wide-eyed and bewildered, only taking in small amounts of their conversation, too high on the funny air to process.
Valentino grinned at the sight, pleased that his smoke could work on angels too.
Once Vox noticed this, he let out an unimpressed sigh, moving across the room to swiftly put out Val's smoke. "We don't need them doped up just yet, save that for later."
You blinked at the comment, but didn't think much of it.
“Hi there, you awake now?” Vox cooed. You nodded, still scarily out of it.
“Mh, looks like Val’s smoke did more to you than it does to sinners… I’m sure it’ll wear off soon. In the meantime, I have some little tests to run. That okay, sweetheart?”
You nodded once more, the comforting presence enough for you to agree to anything.
“Perfect.” Vox grinned, shooting Velvette and Valentino a knowing glance. You preened at the comment, crown-shaped halo glowing brightly, always craving that validation you were made for.
Over the next few hours, the Vees poked and prodded in all sorts of ways trying to figure out exactly how angels worked. They invasively studied your eyes, which could occasionally change color with strong emotions, yet they only got to see elements of fear, confusion and fatigue today.
After pushing you far enough, your eyes started to water at the bright light, silver tears descending your cheek. They looked pleased with themselves at the discovery.
Once they got bored of that, Velvette started drafting up some outfits as Vox began to plan just how to present you to the public.
“Do you think wings can grow back?” The british voice spoke inquisitively, doodling something on her fashion notepad.
“I don’t think so?-“ You replied, eyebrows drawn together at the odd question.
“Mhh I wouldn’t risk it. We wouldn’t get to see these beauties flap if we cut them off.” Valentino smirked, pleased that he could go back to touching your wings as part of the ‘testing’ process.
Cut them off?! Was that what she meant? You looked to Vox with an expression of abject terror, but he was too busy to care.
As Valentino prodded at your injured wing some more golden blood brimmed at the surface. Unlike a sane person, Val’s extensive red tongue shot out to lap up the substance causing you to gasp.
You’d never experienced such a weird sensation.
Velvette just grimaced at him in disgust, yet she didn’t look too surprised.
The chill running through you was unlike any before. You’d never felt so violated. Something fierce bubbled inside of you, if you didn’t know better you’d think it was rage, but you weren’t meant that way. You were made amicable, malleable, to appease others. Discontent wasn’t meant to be in your repertoire.
Velvette looked at your reaction with great interest, halting her sketches for a moment.
The feeling left you quickly enough. A much more interesting display occurring when Val, who was already crazy enough, started acting incredibly strange. He was in a fit of giggles, laughing like a maniac.
It was enough to grasp everyone’s attention.
He was practically waltzing around the room like a princess, his tongue hanging from his mouth like a dog before he resumed his giggles.
You had no idea that your blood could have that effect on people. It wasn’t like people went around drinking it or anything weird. Maybe it was from the amount of sugar in your diet from heaven? You’d certainly noticed the lack of it down here. No matter what it was, the gold liquid surely had some strange consequences.
The Vees were looking at you with a inscrutable expression at the discovery, but you were more carried away with trying to patch up the bend in your wing. Velvette had kindly brought you some fabric for it earlier. You hummed as you worked.
Valentino stayed on his angelic high for almost 2 whole hours, becoming a huge hinderance to Vox’s work. He was constantly invading his space by poking at his screen, trying to steal his bow tie and laughing like a troublesome child when he got reprimanded for it. For once his actions held a sweet and cheerful edge and that seemed to exponentially shock the others.
You found that he was much more likeable when he wasn’t in your space, and when he wasn’t so mocking.
Once he returned back to normal, however, the tension in the room returned tenfold. This time he was glaring at you like you’d committed a crime. As if he wasn’t the one to unconsensually lap at you.
Despite it being technically his fault, you still felt it right to apologise, slithers of guilt shaking you.
“I’m sorry.” You offered calmly.
Everyone was utterly confused at your apology. Hell clearly wasn’t used to them. Valentino looked at you apprehensively, bordering between disbelief, disgust and interest.
“Whatever, I’ve had enough of the sappy bullshit today. I’m out.”
His exit was no less dramatic than his attitude, shooting Vox a tight-lipped smile.
“Sure Val, I’ll see you later.” Vox waved him off, used to his attitude.
You worried that you’d done something wrong causing Velvette to reassure you.
“Look, this is all just a bit unfamiliar. You’re a weirdo. It’s fine, but it’ll take some getting used to.”
Her words were blunt, made sharper by her accent, but in an odd way you could tell she meant them comfortingly.
A smile broke out across your expression, replacing any ounce of worry momentarily. Sure, she scared you a tiny bit, but after all the images of the horrors of hell that Vox had showed you yesterday, nothing seemed so bad just yet. The three of them were nice, well meaning people.
Your expression was clearly uncomfortable for her, as she quickly pulled out her phone, letting the room slip into silence save for the quiet typing.
After a while, Vox finished up his top-secret plotting, he turned to you and Velvette, slamming his laptop shut. Across his screen was a wide, teeth-bared grin and a victorious cheer stemming from his speakers.
“Right. I have a plan and it’s going to make us the most influential overlords in all of Hell.”
