[Hellverse] One Shots
(Open, Moderated)
Recent bookmarks
-
Tags
Summary
Valentino isn’t a priority in anybody’s life. But there’s a certain thrill that comes with being with him. He believes a lot of it is getting caught, doing something one shouldn’t be doing, and having potential everlasting consequences if one were ever exposed. Or perhaps it’s the feeling of danger that surrounds him.
Either way, Valentino may not be the priority, but he’s the thrill, the excitement that adds a little bit of spice to an otherwise flavorless life. But just like all spices, too much can make the dish overwhelming. Hence why he’s never anybody’s endgame.
And that’s okay.
It sounds fucked up, but Val really doesn’t mind it. He gets a good lay, gifts, words of affection, and so much more.
When one has all of that, what even is the point of being somebody’s first?
OR
Val has been somebody's second choice for as long as he can remember: it's how he's made a life for himself. That's fine, and it's never bothered him before.
Until it does.
Series
- Part 2 of A Demons Heart
-
Tags
Summary
“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me,” a familiar and oh so grating voice says, clearly irritated.
Well, Alastor supposes a peaceful drink would have been rather boring. Feeling his smile tighten ever so slightly, he turns to the voice.
“Valentino!” he says brightly, “I must say, such a surprise to see you in this part of Hell my dear fellow.”
“Uh huh,” Valentino says blandly, “you know what? Fuck it. This seat taken?”
Oh ho ho. So the man is in distress it seems. Suddenly, this night has gotten far more entertaining.
Series
- Part 1 of A Demons Heart
-
Tags
Summary
Every Tuesday they play, every Friday they date, every other Wednesday they have lunch, and occasionally on Saturday Alastor spends the night again. That’s the deal and Vox doesn’t mind a schedule as long as his sexual needs are met. Alastor thrives in a controlled environment and the freedom to do as he pleases. Two vastly different overlords have found that it’s nice to have a piece of cake on occasion. Especially when there is no pressure to take a bite. Either way strings are securely anchored in a structured relationship that suits them just fine.
Prologue for Every Given Tuesday and final installment of this series.
Series
- Part 6 of Tuesday
-
Tags
Summary
The last tones of a lazy jazz tune wafted through the room, bittersweet and full of longing, only occasionally permeated from the crackling in the fireplace when a log sparked up. It was the only light source of the room, aside from the conjured bayou and the few fireflies there, and Alastor wouldn't have liked it any other way. At least not on this particular night.
He took a sip from the heavy glass in his right hand. The rye burned on his tongue, in his throat, distracting him from the aching in his chest, where Adams axe caused a terrible wound that still bled every now and then. But the drink did something else as well. It reminded the Radio demon of better days in the past, of nights full of laughter and dancing and scheming. They had plans back then, plans and dreams and so much to talk about. It was fun while it lasted. But as always in hell... Good things did not last forever.Basically it's just about an old man, looking back and asking himself what went wrong.
-
Tags
Summary
A scent.
Not Alastor's. That was everywhere, moss and whiskey, wrapping around him like a blanket. This was different. Fainter. But there. Impregnated in Alastor's clothes, his skin, his breath.
Sweet. Omega. Apples.
Vox froze.
His brain, which had been about to completely shut down, came back to life with the force of a punch. Apples. That smell. That fucking smell. He knew it. He knew it too well.
The King.
Lucifer.
Vox growled. A sound that wasn't the submissive whimper from a second ago, but something sharper. More furious. His hands, which had been weakly caressing Alastor's chest, tensed. Pushed. Pressed.
—Get off me.
Series
- Part 1 of Static and Moss