#vnn | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

slutforalastor · 8 days

Note

"Ah, he's got this problem." Your friend Mimzy waved her hand. "You know how animal demons get. I'd take care of him myself but I wouldn't want to spoil our working relationship. We go way back, you know."

Slowly, you nodded. "You'd consider it a personal favour?" That was how things worked in Hell. A consideration for a consideration. And dealing with the Radio Demon in rut was hardly a small favour, even if it did play well to your preferences.

"To me, yeah." Mimzy smiled broadly. "Just take him to a private room in the back and see that he's calmed down before it's time for the show. If he's cranky he's gonna start eating people, ugh." She fluttered her hand again. "Don't worry, though, he's an absolute sweetheart."

Seeing the Radio Demon turn sideways to get through the door, eyes glowing red and his huge rack of antlers festooned with cables, you were starting to doubt Mimzy's definition of sweetheart.

THIS POST CONTAINS MATERIAL NOT SUITABLE FOR MINORS. 18+

Content: Rutting, antlerplay, role reversal, give and take, banter, mutual masturbation, light femdom, biting, marking, a lot of flowery language for smut

You'd heard the stories and rumors, saw the occasional report on VNN, but you'd yet to encounter the Radio Demon for yourself. Even pushed to the edge where something resembling humanity plunges into dark depths of depravity, he's maintaining a grip on decorum, his wavering smile barely forming the syllables when he introduces himself as Alastor, his voice impossibly mimicking the sound of a mono recording from a bygone time. Mimzy is going to owe you big-time.

"I'm doing well, sir. I have to say, you look like you've had an awful day."

"It is... most inconvenient," he stammers, shaking his head like a beached animal trying to throw off water. Just as Mimzy had requested, you'd waited for him in the private room, and you're still laying in the bed, your body draped across the two rows of firm pillows, down to your lingerie for his ease. With wobbling steps, he begins to close the distance, loosening his bowtie.

"I really must insist that this matter... stay between us." The restraint he's displaying seems as though it's taking every bit of faculties he can spare; his breathing, his sight, his ability to stand, all seem to be sustained with the minimum amount of effort possible. Even glazed in electric red, you can tell his eyes are focused intently on you.

"Who would believe me, anyhow?"

"... Too true, no one would dream of calling me a liar," he agrees, pulling his waistcoat off and leaving it in a heap on the bureau. His undershirt is the same deep red, intersecting black stripes making a cross across the center of his chest. He rolls his sleeves up, then sets his cane on top of his waistcoat. "Any... sensitivities I should know about?"

"I like being kissed on the neck," you venture, playing it safe for opening bids.

He laughs wickedly, the glow casting light further than it could reach before, his antlers growing another section in size, branching out that much closer to the ceiling. "Oh, Mimzy didn't tell me you'd be so pure. Surely you have something more entertaining than that?"

"You think I do this sort of thing often enough to have an itemized list?"

He tuts at your attempt at banter, removing his shoes and leaving them in the gap under the bed. "I don't have time for experimentation, my dear. I'm asking if you think you can handle what I have to give."

"I've handled everything so far," you smirk.

"Let's see how you handle the best, then," he mutters. With a wave of his hand, a black tentacle rises to wrap around your midsection, pinning you in place. He's climbing onto the bed, teeth bared like an animal seconds from pouncing. There's hunger in his eyes, desperation in his motion, a frantic bent to the way he's starting to falter, his kayfabe crumbling with every push of his knees. He's got your legs open, mounting you, and you can feel something alive and thrashing, barely contained by the slacks tenting away from his midsection. His eyes are narrowed in ravenous anticipation, his hips pressing him into you, etching his longing lengthwise against the fabric of your underwear. You feel your upper teeth against your lip, knowing that despite all your talk, you can't hide how appreciative you are of his straightforward approach.

With a hoarse exhale, he fumbles with his belt, the restraining tentacle slipping southward to yank your panties down. Your eyes catch a glimpse of how prepared you are for what's coming next, the evidence staining a dark spot in the light fabric. The Radio Demon hikes his slacks down to the midsection of his thighs, the tip of his firmness kissing against your entrance, his erratic movements keeping him from slipping in. You take it in your hands, which makes him rear up in ecstasy, a hissing growl punctuating the reaction, and align it directly where it needs to go. With a thrust motivated by nothing more than primal need, he forces himself deep into you, grunting in satisfaction at your breathy gasps when it settles into your apex. He gives you little time to adjust, burying himself into you with harsh, crushing strokes, the red in his eyes leaving a tracer every time you shut your eyes against the force of it. His hands are against your forearms, pinning the both of them on either side, and when your head goes back, he finds the crook of your neck with his teeth, his tongue, his lips, seasoning you with scratches, leaving welts from kisses and bites. They sting like fire, they excite like aphrodisiac.

"Is that what you mean, my dear? Is that what you're looking for?"

You whimper something that sounds close enough to assent for him to grow bolder, making a map of your body, marking a trail, carving canyons, raising landmarks that stand red and pulsing against the canvas of your skin. All this in the throes of his rutting deep into you. It drives you mad, your legs wrapping around his waist, bidding him to see just how much of his mind he can lose.

"God, your fucking taste. It'd be such a shame to just devour you, though. So many uses for the whole." Or maybe you're using the homophone of that word to make him seem kinder.

A flailing hand finds your throat, freeing your arms by necessity. You catch onto the rack of black antlers nearly driving themselves into the headboard, using them for leverage to arch your back. You can't tell if you've irritated or excited him with your little move, but the result is the same; he's pressing you with enough force that you can feel the force of it in your midsection. You're seeing red, the sound of him making a mess of you ringing in your ears, two organs vying for sensations yet to be experienced, every other part of you a mere pretense, a chorus playing ensemble to the true performance. And he's reaching the climax of it, his bucking hips shaking your entire frame. You can feel every shift of his disposition in the bone of his antlers, and you hold on for dear life as his urge rushes into your lower half, filling you with thick heat. You're moaning unconsciously, letting him keep you impaled for as long as it pulses with diminishing vigor, feeling every twitch in his shaft as it empties itself. Finally spent, he releases you, the tentacle unwinding from around your waist. Your fingers, knuckles sore from strain, release his antlers, and you extricate yourselves from one another. You can feel his seed weep from between your legs, your breathing rapid, your skin slick with sweat. He collapses onto his back, his legs still entangled with yours, the fabric of his slacks a strange texture on your drenched skin. Straining, you lift your head up, seeing that despite his exhaustion, his cock hasn't calmed one bit.

"Still... not satisfied?"

"This damnable rut..."

You pull yourself up, your lower half numb and leaving a trail of translucence as you crawl to the space between his legs. You wrap a hand around him, and he breathes a hissing inhale that tapers into a low, long groan.

"I didn't ask you..."

"You look like you're in misery, you really don't want the help?"

"I am in no position to keep going..."

"So let me handle it."

You can see the conflict playing out in his expression, but his hips gently bucking against your hand tell a different tale. "Not a soul can know about this."

You nod your assent, giving the part that needs it more of your attention. It's as lively as when he was frotting it against you, throbbing with want, coated with spend. It makes a marvelous lubricant, the wet sound of skin against slick skin nearly obscuring his quiet moans.

"I couldn't help but notice that you have sensitivities of your own, sir."

"Surely you can't mean..."

Your free hand dances like a bird across the branches in his horns, his vocalizations and submissive thrusts suggesting that you have stricken quite the nerve. He's already oozing pre into your palm, a searching hand walking a blind path between your legs, caressing you in kind. You've got a wild idea, just crazy enough to sound worth doing. There's a real chance you'll never cross each other's path again, might as well indulge. You spot a path that ends in a blunt point in his rack, and take it into your mouth, flitting your tongue against the rough material, firm and tasteless, but eliciting such a response from him that you'd not dare release it. His fingers are stroking you with all the effort they can muster, his thrusts weak but sincere.

"Cannot believe... you're getting away with this," he whines, his voice so submissive compared to the one you first heard that it threatens to send you over the edge. Why not press your luck? You straddle his waist, inching him into you margin by maddening margin. He's got no more clever quips for you, his curled claws clutching fistfuls of ruined bedsheets. The view from on high is a pleasant one. A few more motions, and you feel that sensation alighting in him once again; you're ready to join him. His whimpers go up an octave, the crackling filter in his voice thickening, distorting. For the second time, he climaxes inside of you, your own orgasm arriving in tandem. The both of you cry out, his subdued and sweet, yours unrestrained and carnal. You fold into him, his initial reaction wanting to pull away, but he grants you this favor, letting you find the crook in his neck in parallel. He speaks unfiltered, more as Alastor than as the Radio Demon.

"You know, it can be so hard to find willing assistants for these difficult times. Perhaps I could call on you again, my dear."

Maybe it should be you that owes Mimzy.

#alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #alastor x you #radio demon x reader #the radio demon #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel

270 notes · View notes

phoenixtakaramono · 6 months

Text

THE SEVEN WEDDING SPECIAL

“The Vought family grows by one as our distinguished captain, The Homelander, ties the knot with reformed supervillain William Butcher! Tune into VNN+ and Vought Entertainment for the most anticipated A-list superhero wedding of the century! Join us as we set the stage for the extravaganza and wish them a hopeful happily ever after.”

TY for 800+ followers on Twitter! I'd think it'd be neat if Homelander and Butcher kiss and have a Superhero Wedding Ceremony Special atop Vought Tower's helipad 🕊

#butchlander #homelander #billy butcher #the boys #we celebrate our babygirls' appearance in Gen V finale #the boys tv #the boys amazon #I HC it’s a Vought media circus/ publicity stunt mixed with a genuine civil wedding that family (Ryan) and friends (The Boys) attend #we’re making a slight parody here of Reed Richards’ & Susan Storm’s Fantastic Four wedding #where it was met by disaster lol #bc this is The Boys ofc I had to add 🩸 splashing on our murder husbands and exploding doves that’d been lasered in the bg #I HC that some guests or media journalists maybe met a grisly end at the venue and their bl00d splashed onto them lol #TY for 800 Twt followers! As per tradition we celebrate the new milestone with a new celebratory illustration #check the reblog for the higher-res still images #flashing #flashing lights #animated #glitch #eyestrain #the glitch effect in this GIF has bright flashing colors #absolutely devastated they can’t kiss in canon so I will happily draw their what-if superhero civil marriage with tears running down my fac #phoenixtakaramono #featured #my art

37 notes · View notes

royalsuvia · 8 days

Text

Valta (VNN) - The royal press office released a new official portrait of the Queen in celebration of her birthday today. The photograph, taken in the autumn ballroom, features the monarch appropriately dressed in her preferred blue with the badge of the north star on her chest and Queen Tuuli's Crown atop her head.

| Next

#ts4 #RoyalSuvia #HouseKokko #ts4 royal family #royal sims 4 #SylviaKokko #KokkoRoyalPortrait

13 notes · View notes

comicwaren · 2 years

Text

From Avengers: 1,000,000 B.C. #001, “For the Phoenix So Loved the World”

Art by Kev Walker and Dean White

Written by Jason Aaron

7 notes · View notes

waheelawhisperer · 1 year

Text

Good evening, everyone, and welcome to VNN SportsCenter! I'm your host, Waheela "Bubba" Whisperer, and tonight on Vale News Network's Fandom Friday, I'll be bringing you live coverage of the RWBY Hottest Character Poll, hosted by the lovely hadesisqueer. The initial round has drawn to a close and we've already seen some remarkable upsets, and analysts and bookmakers have begun recalculating odds and reevaluating the tournament favorites.

The initial top seed, ranked number one in both the Atlesian Press poll and BeaCon statistical rankings, Yang Xiao Long, has actually seen her odds decrease as she moves into the second round of her tournament. While she defeated her initial opponent in decisive fashion, she's actually 0-1 against the spread despite facing an opponent seeded in the middle of the pack by both human and computer polls. Still, she remains one of the tournament's top contenders, and it's not uncommon for top seeds to start off slow and then get hot (get it?) as they move into the later rounds.

Miss Xiao Long's girlfriend and fellow 1 seed, Blake Belladonna, saw her odds improve slightly as she defeated both her first opponent and the spread, though questions remain regarding how much of her victory was earned through her own performance and how much of it came from the fact that Ilia Amitola is a lesbian mess who actively encouraged voters to choose her opponent. As such, Miss Belladonna has yet to establish herself as the favorite to bring home the gold, though she'll certainly be bringing home a different type of gold(en sun dragon) regardless of the results.

The current favorite, Winter Schnee, advanced to the Round of 32 with a commanding victory over some angry twink with a mustache - specifically, the one she wasn't related to. She managed to just barely beat the spread, but the line was so damn high to begin with that natural poll variance alone made it nearly impossible to beat, especially by any decisive margin. She's still the darling of the computer polls in particular, many of which actually had her seeded over contestant Xiao Long, though she displays slightly less favorability with human pollsters than either of the other top seeds mentioned so far.

The first on our list of upsets is a matchup many pundits expected to be quite contentious - Deputy Headmistress Glynda Goodwitch vs. General James Ironwood. While Ironwood wasn't a heavy favorite, he was expected to escape the initial round and perhaps even make the Sweet Sixteen on the strength of his masculine appeal and iron wood if he managed to draw a favorable bracket. Unfortunately for the General, he landed an opponent ranked variably within the low-two and high-three seeds for his first matchup, and his virile facial hair and DILF-in-a-uniform appeal was insufficient to overcome his willingness to commit mass murder, much less the Deputy Headmistress's massive MILFpower. The bettors predicted a much closer spread, and Glynda's decisive victory has led analysts to start seriously considering the possibility that she might make a Final Four appearance so long as the whims of the bracket do not conspire to end her run early.

Another contestant who managed to elevate is Kali Belladonna, who was favored in her matchup and surprised the audience by crushing the spread, taking home over 75% of the vote against a MILF with an ass so fat it messed up the rigging of her model. When asked for comment, Mrs. Belladonna showed me a picture of her daughter as a toddler and then enthusiastically explained to me why she believed her husband should be the ultimate victor in the tournament. As her commentary is not suitable for an audience of all ages, her statement will not be broadcast.

Mr. Belladonna, on the other hand, despite his impressive victory against both the spread and fellow DILF Taiyang Xiao Long, has received rather less favorable treatment from the polls than he has from his wife, given the demographics of those voting in this contest. As a result, most analysts do not expect him to progress beyond the Sweet Sixteen, though SportsCenter has heard rumors that the bracket is being reseeded mid-tournament in order to help level the playing field for the male contestants. When SportsCenter asked host hadesisqueer to shed some light on these allegations, a representative of the Vale Sporting Commission informed us that she was not available to speak with the media at this time and refused to provide any further comment. According to our sources within the Sporting Commission, the host was last seen staring at pictures of Blake Belladonna and muttering frantically to herself in Spanish.

Duly elected Councilwoman Hill of Atlas, on the other hand, did make herself available for comment after her victory over Jacques Schnee, and used her newfound platform to loudly call her opponent "a punk-ass bitch" before disparaging General Ironwood's suitability for his job as the commander-in-chief of the Atlesian military and insisting that contestant Winter Schnee must have gotten her booty from her mother. The voters are in vocal agreement with all three statements, and Miss Hill's last assertion in particular has raised her stock with the voters enough to potentially propel her into the Elite Eight or possibly even the Final Four, though analysts still think she is unlikely to reach the finals without taking drastic measures.

Speaking of Schnees, another surprising matchup involving Miss Winter's younger sister has left some in the audience questioning the seeding process for the tournament. While Weiss Schnee was not expected to make a particularly deep run, very few anticipated her exit in the first round. Unfortunately, her first opponent was consensus 2-seed and Elite Eight contender Pyrrha Nikos. Miss Schnee acquitted herself well in this matchup, just barely failing to beat the spread against an opponent many feel is one of the best in the tournament, but I can't imagine she's happy to go out like this.

Finally, the Branwenbowl drew the highest ratings of the first round of the tournament as two top contenders slugged it out far earlier than either was expected to meet serious competition. Fists and feathers flew with abandon as the audience argued over whether Raven's Goth Dommy Mommy vibes outweighed Qrow's tragic backstory, status as a parental figure and mentor who genuinely cares for the children he has accepted responsibility for, and general soggy patheticness, but ultimately Raven Branwen claimed victory over her brother, whose Semblance struck once more and prevented him from taking advantage of a last-chance opportunity to replace a pair of underperforming contestants in a late matchup.

The matchups are only getting spicier from here, folks! We at VNN know you've got strong opinions on the outcomes, so if you'd like to place your money where your mouth is, you can place your bets with one of our official partners at www.XiongSportsBooks.com (no relation to the notorious Xiong crime family) or support your favorite contestant by buying the finest merchandise Atlesian sweatshops can coerce poverty-stricken Faunus into producing for far less than a decent living wage in the Merchandise tab of our website! Use the code ASHES for 20% off all Cinder Fall-, Pyrrha Nikos-, and Arthur Watts-themed merchandise and the code SDC for a 10% discount on a new pair of Schneezys (limit one per customer).

Thanks for watching, folks, and tune back in next time for live coverage of the Round of 32! Here at VNN SportsCenter, we're committed to bringing you top-notch coverage of all Valean sporting events. As always, let us know how you felt about this broadcast on Glitter using the hashtag #flexappeal, and check out behind-the-scenes footage and photos of our contestants at www.hunstagram.com/SportsCenter, and see you all next time on Waheela's Fandom Friday!

#I'm so sorry I packed this full of sportsball jokes #and I would delight in the opportunity to explain them #rwby hottest character poll #rwby #I'm not tagging all the damn characters lol

121 notes · View notes

handoverthekawaii · 10 months

Text

We Go Together | Homelander x You | Chapter 1

Taglist: @hom3landr

It’s a crisp spring day in New York. Parents all over town are probably scheduling park play dates for their little ones, and restauranteurs are likely dragging tables out of winter storage to take advantage of the sun and the breeze. Part of you wishes you could be at one of those restaurants, sipping coffee or nibbling on a bagel as the city moves around you. But, today, you’re on the move yourself — it’s Friday, the end of your first week as a full-time employee at Vought International.

Well, KIND OF a full-time employee, you think to yourself as your train pulls up to the platform. You’ve landed a job in the Hero Management Department, but it’s only a temporary position (“Just to fill in some unexpected gaps in Vought’s workforce,” the hiring manager had said, whatever that means.) But a temp job is still a job, and surely you’ll have enough time at the company to accomplish what you’re going there to do.

The rider seated next to you is watching the news on his laptop, without headphones of course. Since it’s not like you have a choice anyway, you halfway pay attention as the subway trundles toward Midtown Manhattan.

21 dead as protests erupt in the Middle East… Ecoterrorist group Viridi Aurora claims responsibility for Vatican blackouts… The headlines are pretty bleak, so part of you is relieved when the man switches over to VNN’s coverage of the Vought Hero Draft.

Before long, you find yourself standing on the sidewalk in front of Vought Tower. A security check and a crowded elevator ride later, you make it to your workstation just in time to clock in. The morning passes by quickly — you work on some travel reimbursement forms, then attend a sexual harassment prevention seminar alongside other new Vought employees.

You decide to make your move around three o’clock. All week long, you’ve been using your morning and afternoon breaks to roam the hallways of Vought Tower’s many floors. Yesterday morning you finally found what you’d been looking for: a simple white door in a sterile, featureless hallway.

“Personnel File Storage,” it says on the door in painted block lettering. And even though the door is warped and the lettering has started to peel, the door is secured with a deadbolt lock attached to a shiny, black keycard reader.

You’ve revisited the door multiple times since you initially located it, puzzling over how you might gain entry. Swiping your own keycard would be a horrible idea — even if the door opened, Vought security staff would know right away that you’d trespassed somewhere you weren’t meant to be.

But your walks have also led you past a keycard station in the IT Department’s warren of cubicles. It looks like an employee is intended to staff the station at all times, but you’ve never seen anyone there. With a little luck, you should be able to encode a keycard giving you access to the room, conduct your business there, and leave the card behind at the station before anyone catches on. How hard could it be?

So there you are, standing in front of “Personnel File Storage” with a freshly minted keycard in hand. Trying to steady your arm from trembling, you swipe the card through the reader — but instead of a click of the lock, instead you are greeted with a blinking red light. Access denied.

For a split second, you have no idea what to do. Did I fuck the card up? you think to yourself as, just for good measure, you swipe it again. Once again, access denied.

Maybe it’s the adrenaline coursing through your veins but, after the third try, your temper flares. “OPEN, GODDAMMIT!” you whisper to yourself as you kick the door in frustration.

“I doubt you can kick open that door wearing those shoes.” [continued in AO3]

#ao3 writer #fanfic #the boys #homelander #homelander x reader #homelander x you #the homelander #homelander x y/n

69 notes · View notes