#hellsflowered

sit .   gesture  for  my  muse  to  sit  down . (On Isabela’s flower bed for the silly scientist man 🩷🩷)

"Oh, no, thank you. I have pollen allergy."

A little bit of humor, a little bit of a sigh. This isn't going anywhere, is it?

"Besides" the doctor continued after a few seconds, waving a hand dismissively "I'm quite sure you'd try to strangle me with a rose if I did. Call it a hunch."

This said, Shaw indeed sits down -- only a meter or two away from her, on a wheeled chair.

"I'm sorry it took me so long; pride ring is a little far from here. I can see that I'm late."

Angel could hardly bring himself to look at his friend, and he wasn't even sure whether his avoidance was stemming from shame at being caught like this, or anger at the Princess for her attempt to help.

He wished he'd been sneaky enough to get to his room without anyone seeing, but the sobs he was biting back and his liquor-induced stumbles did nothing but draw attention his way. Of course Charlie had noticed, and there was nothing he could do about it now.

Hell, he hadn't even bothered changing this time, and still wore his robe from work.

Angel's first instinct was to yank his hands away from hers and curse at her again, like he had that day in the studio. He didn't, though. He'd promised himself that he wouldn't make the same mistake twice. Even though it was difficult for him to get it through his thick skull, he knew that Charlie cared about him, and that her intentions were pure.

He didn't want to push her away any more than he already had.

fuck he was sore. val had not gone easy on him, spewing some bullshit over numbers dropping since knowledge had spread across the ring that he was crashing at the hotel. and apparently nothing got numbers higher than gangbang scenes. especially gangbang scenes that lasted nine hours and ended with asphyxiation.

the knocking, even gentle, felt like a jackhammer against his fucking skull. what the fuck was up with that? they weren't humans anymore, why did they feel shit from hangovers still? ( probably just another fun thing to suffer with in hell ).

" mm.. Eres tú otra vez... "

"Yep, me again!"

He's not even trying to speak Spanish. This man has been alive for more than a century, and yet he refuses to spend more than a few days on Duolingo, still.

"As long as you're here, I'll have to come around from time to time to check how you're going, so...

@hellsflowered asked: "You.. didn't get in any trouble, did you?" Amidst her indignation, the prospect of Emily facing repercussions for her defense against Sera did not initially dawn upon her. However, as clarity slowly seeped in, apprehension crept in. The possibilities of what could happen to her for siding with the demons raged in her mind. Emily appears unharmed, still carrying the semblance of an angel, a seraphim. Yet, this disquietudes Charlie. She is cognizant of the perils of opposing the higher echelons of angels, her father serving as a stark testament. She fervently wishes to spare Emily a similar destiny. Emily does not deserve it. She doesn't deserve to see the repulsing scenery down there.

random asks || always accepting

She wouldn't have regretted it if she did. What was the point in keeping Heaven and Hell separate; if sinners couldn't redeem themselves, and yet there were angels who were no better than the demons they detested so much? The lines could only blur so much until they faded from sight entirely, how much further could things go before they got to that point?

She hadn't fallen - yet. But speaking out had still cost her.

"Sera... wasn't happy with me." Her mentor's disappointment was still palpable, and Emily could feel a near-constant prickle on her neck of the ever-watchful eyes of the higher seraphim.