#➸ in the feather coat (ooc.)
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Partners in Death…and Life
Part 2: Radio Will be Dead if He Doesn’t Explain Himself
| Part 1: Radio's Not Dead |Part 3: Not Everything You Hear From The Radio Should be Trusted| Masterlist | ao3
Parings: Alastor x wife!reader
Tags: fem!reader, established relationship, hopefully not but just in case ooc!alastor (I'm still trying my best to keep him as canon as possible) Reader is in hell for a reason.
Summary: After a seven-year absence, you find the man you were married to in life, not only back in town, but also helping... *checks notes*... the Princess of Hell run a hotel aimed at rehabilitating sinners who were sent to the bad place for a reason.
Hello, I’m back :D This was supposed to be published yesterday, but I got busy. Anyway, thank you for all the likes so far. It motivated me to really finish this chapter. Also once again, I have everything planned out, it really is just a matter of writing it down.
*Updated 28/02/2024 Just added some stuff that I thought made sense*
Flick…
Flick…
Flick…
Lights flicker above you with a slight buzz. You drape an arm over your eyes when the gleam of the bulb blind you.
The hardwood floors chill your skin, but it’s the sensation of casual loose clothing on your back that warrants your exhale in peace. Just a second. You just need a moment on these hard and chilling floors to ground you… just… one … single … moment to…
Inhale
Exhale
Inhale
Exhale
A stray feather pricks into your arm. The vane tickles, but the barb digs your skin. You’ve called this body ‘yours’ far longer than your human one, yet the feathers that grow on your skin still astound you. You twirl it around your fingers, and wave it in the air like a wand—it’s a proper animalistic feather.
Your nose scrunches into a hard scowl, and you jump up, stomping into the kitchen toward that untouched coffee mug on your counter. Grabbing it, you splash the contents down the sink, letting it flush down the drain.
The sponge is rough against your hands as you scrub and you scrub and you scrub and you scrub and you scrub and you scrub a̵̯͒n̴̤͝d̶̫͌ ̶͚̇y̶̤̎o̷͔̓u̶̢͐ ̸̓͜s̵̪͗c̸͎͂r̷̀ͅṳ̴̎b̸͖̀ ầ̷̩̯͍̙̳̍͗͘ń̵̰̞̰̕d̴͇̻̮̫̝̓̎̈́ ̶̡̬̬̮̺͗͒́̌͑y̴̙̘̻͇̿̉̐͆ǫ̷͉̟̍̅̑̏ŭ̸̖͓ͅ ̴̛̝͇̭̥̌́́̂s̸̠̑̽̏́c̷̥̺̃̾̊r̶̲̯̈́̈̄͆͊u̵̼̝͕̼̇̍̈́͘b̶͍͖͖̐̾͝.
Inhale
Exhale
Inhale
Exhale
You rinse the mug, slamming the cupboard door shut when you drop it next to your own clean one. Fingers run through your feather-hair…hair-feather, or your ‘whatever that grows on your scalp’. Some questions you’ve stopped asking.
An audible grumble… well, uhhhhh…. grumbles from where your stomach is placed in this body, and you munch on your lips to keep the inhumane screech from erupting into the kitchen and breaking all kinds of glassware and little knickknacks that Alastor filled your home with.
(These days, the old trinkets collect dust on your shelves. There haven’t been any new ones in years.)
Chopping Hell’s equivalent of carrots calms you. (It’s honestly the use of some type of razor-sharp object that calms you. You’d prefer a different razor-sharp object, but a sharp knife is a sharp knife, no matter the size.) You chop until there’s enough food to make a proper and decent meal that your stomach will accept.
You crash on the couch, dinner secured on a plate, and flip the television switch. Light flashes into the room when you do.
Ad about some impish business—Not interested.
‘Yeah, I fucked your sister, So what?’ — Boring.
Cooking Venison with Vox— Lame.
Settling on the lifestyle network, you munch on your food. Some poor slimy creature flashes across the screen, and it's her home that will be remodeled because of…something. You’re not sure what that something was. You don’t care enough to find out.
The sounds from the television swap with the silence of your living-room as you take each bite. It’s one of the sadder habits you’ve picked up since purchasing this noisy picture box.
Your eyes wander to that half-filled coat rack, while your ears listen in on the show and that woman did not just say that pink would go with brown. Only your singular coat drapes on the hinge, when this particular design was made to hold two.
A commercial plays for some-thing called the Hazbin Hotel.
Your eyes are stitched to the screen until the final note of the song plays, and a different advertisement takes its spot. You take a sip of your drink. Just ą̷̖̯͈͂ ̷̡̧͚̤̩͎̙͇̞͓̟͈̤̝͉͉͉̘̉͐̓́̆́̇̍̐̿̈̄͜͜͜͝͝s̶̨̢̛̥̣̻̱̰̬̩̹̥̞̟̳̝͔͓͙̗̗͕̟͇̆̉̿į̴̡̢̠͇̱̤͔̙͎͕͛̑̓̒̀̔͆̓͂̃̚͘͘͠ṗ̶̡̢̨̳͙̦̮͍͓̻͎̲̪̲͕͛̔̐́̐̈́̒̒̉̎͛̆̈́̈́̉̔̑̃̕ͅ.
Inhale
Exhale
Inhale
Exhale
Inhale
Exhale
Inhale
Exhale
You blink, and you find your keys locking your front door. Already, your legs are trekking down the garden stones. A flower snarls at you as the gate locks with a click.
Another blink.
Huh…you’re on the bus.
The sign says it’s headed into the city. Living on the outskirts has always been beneficial for you. Not today, though. Today, the one-hour commute makes your feathers bristle.
You read the barely eligible address scribbled on the note, and pat your hair, smoothing the flared feathers sticking out. It seems…
Hmmmmm.
It seems you did not think this through. H-how…How are you going to get to the hotel?
Tagatha calls you a fossil for using one of those flippy telephones. You considered purchasing those fancy telephones with the lights and screens, and loud robotic voices telling you where to turn left, but learning to use a flip-phone brought enough stress for two lifetimes. You’ll happily stay a fossil.
Turns out, you don’t even need the address.
The Hazbin Hotel sticks out. It’s a humongous building with its name written across what you call the sky in blinding neon lights. Your vision zooms in, and you see that the hotel rests on a giant hill at the other edge of the city. Three large neon-lit arrows point to a crudely attached radio tower. Below it, a wooden ship hangs to the side. Circus light bulbs flicker with electricity.
The Hazbin Hotel is an eyesore – it’s exactly what Alastor prefers.
You reach the dinged-up metal gate on the bottom of the hill and reset your hand on the rusted latch. Trekking through the city took a lot, and you were already here. So, why are your legs frozen to the cement? Why does your heartbeat thump in your ears?
“Excuuussseeeee me.”
A snake towers over you. It’s your first time seeing such a slithery specimen as large as him. His hat rests on his hold, and it blinks at you. His hair … or was that skin … puffs out with two red sets of red eyes.
“Can I help you?” you say, warily. Sinners are in hell for a reason.
“Yessssh,” he says, his tongue slithering out. His flaps stick out, all four eyes staring right into your own. “I’d like to be a guessst at this hotel!”
You glance at the eye-sore that’s called a hotel. “I don’t work here.”
His flaps droop. The snake takes a deep breath, and slides the gate open, slithering in with determination in his … er… snake body.
You follow in silence.
The snake matches your pace. “Will you be a guest at this establishment as well?” he asks you. “Or were you given the same sssssuper secret mission?” Just like before, his tongue slithers out—what a funny little odd man.
Bangs grab your attention. When you focus your vision, you see an inky shadow servant striking a nail into broken wood. “Not at all,” you say slowly. “I’m just here to visit someone.”
His flaps open, and three pairs of eyes and a hat meet yours. “I am the great Sir Pentious!” he says with a proud hand on his puffed-up chest. “Inventor. Architect of destruction. Villain extraordinaire!”
You give him your name “….Doctor.”
“It is only the coward who attacks a battler of health.” His flaps droop as he sinks into himself. “You cannot be my rival, I’m afraid.”
“I guess that makes you brave,” you say, humming. The decorations for the hotel are rather dull. Drawn on the middle of the hill, a giant pentagram is etched on the ground. The flowers dwindle on the cliff edge, and do little to combat the grayness surrounding you. “What a shame to hear—I rather love good rivalries.”
The eyes on Sir Pentious’ hat brighten at the same time his own do as well. “Ssssso do I!”
One of the inky shadow servants waves at you.
You wave back.
Light streams from the glass doors. You blink a few times, adjusting to the sudden change of brightness. Circus-themed stained glass decorate the front entrance. One of the less tacky – but still tacky – designs of this hotel.
Sir Pentious taps the glass with the tips of his finger, clinking with each tap, and his eyes water in excitement. His nose crinkles when he takes a deep breath. You weren’t aware he even owned a nose. Sir Pentious fiddles with the flap of his hat, and bangs on the door.
Your smile strains after a minute of banging.
A young lady with long, white hair creaks the door open. You recognize her from the commercial.
Sir Pentious’ flap open and close with each word as he says, “Why, hello, my dear –”
A punch to the face is his reply.
“Oh dear!” you screech. Sir Pentious drops to the ground, and you kneel next to him, a steady hand on his slimy shoulders. “Have you no manners?”
This insolent girl points her spear and stomps a foot on Sir Pentious. She snarls, and her glare hardens.
“Wait, wait, wait!” Sir Pentious’ tongue slithers out as he holds a peace-sign. “I come in peacccccceeeee”
“What are you doing here?” Her spear inches closer.
“Vaggies,” another voice calls out. A blonde with a red pantsuit and a bowtie pokes her head, eyes in a squint. O-oh! You know this lady from the commercial. The Princess of Hell … Cady … Char …Charlie Morningstar! “What’s the problem?” Charlie’s eyes widen when she spots you and Sir Pentious, an honest smile drawn on her face. “Oh, hello again! And hello to you as well!”
“Can you please tell this insolent girl to get her food off this gentleman,” you spit, tilting your nose into the air. Your feathers sharpen when you bristle. “And your weapon away from my face.”
Vaggie takes her foot off Sir Pentious. She holds the spear close, but it’s away from your face.
Sir Pentious straightens into a stand, and the group prattles on.
No one bothers to help you. A huff escapes, and you brush the dirt off your skirt. Absolutely no manners. Insolent and ill-mannered. Would Alastor stay in such a place?
You’ve never laid an eye on someone as unique as this Vaggie. Her hair patterns are similar to wings. It’s almost unheard of to see such a prominent ‘x’. Her flared eyelashes resemble a bird. It strikes you silly. Almost everyone in hell resembles a human body with animal characteristics hidden somewhere. This insolent girl doesn’t appear to have any of that – only miniscule feathers made to appear native to Hell.
“Absolutely!” Charlie exclaims to who you think is Angel Dust. (The porn-star, not the drug. Obviously.) Sir Pentious nods with the sweetest smile on his face. There’s a squeak every time he bobs his head. That hat of his looks nervous. “This place is about second chances and who deserves one more than this…slithery…slippery…special little man.” Charlie takes a peek at you. “Oh, and this feathery…sheddy… and round-eyed woman.”
You do not shed.
You smile at Charlie, and give her your name, “…and I expect it to be used.”
Angel Dust whips to Vaggie. “Aren’t you supposed to protect this place?” he says and turns to you. “How are we even sure we can trust this lady – no offense, toots.”
“None taken,” you say, dryly.
Charlie’s eyes water when she turns to Vaggie, who easily relents with a sigh.
You’re thrust through the apple and circus-themed doors, squinting at the chandelier. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the design—it reminds you of those old rolled films. Charlie leads you and Sir Pentious further down the hall, all but pushing you in. Vaggie and Angel Dust lag a few steps behind.
Charlie waves her arms to go into an enthusiastic point. “So…this is our bar,” she says. Husk drops his drink, a scowl on his face, “and the bartender. This is the curtain, and this is the new wall after Sir Pentious broke the last one. And this is—”
Vaggie calms her down.
The bar clashes with the red wallpaper of the hotel. It’s almost as if someone just dropped it there, and etched it to the very wall. The wood is firm underneath your touch and feels exactly like what wood should feel.
You turn towards the bar and take your seat. Husk focuses on his drink. “Hello,” you say with a gentle voice that should not be mistaken for kindness. “It’s good to see you, old friend.”
Husk chokes and splatter out his drink, but you only smile at him. He coughs and his ears droop low. “Uh…yes,” he starts. “Good to see you as well.”
“There’s no need to be nervous.”
“I’m not.”
“Good.”
You run your finger across the skeleton wrapped around the bar post. A memory tickles your brain. This is one of the many specimens you owned. It took one whole month to strip the muscle off its tight hold on the bones, and another month just to clean, bleach, and wire together. The heads above the bar sign were a gift to you, and the skeletons were your gift back.
The neural spine pokes your finger as you tap each one. “I see you’ve set up shop here.”
Husk scowls, taking another swig of his drink. “Not much of a choice.”
“And tell me,” you start, “how long have you been here?”
Husk doesn’t answer you.
Charlie calls your name, and waves you over. “Over here,” she says pointing to where Niffty plays with some kind of one-eyes cat, “we have our maid—Niffty!”
Niffty hops on Sir Pentious. “The bad boy is back!” she exclaims, pulling him closer, eyes wide and shaking. A bead of sweat drops from Sir Pentious’ hat. “Never leave me again.”
“We’re about 80% sure she’s harmless….” Charlie prattles on.
“Hello, Niffty.” You smile at her.
She jumps off Sir Pentious, landing with a small ‘humph’, and strides to you with her pointy short legs. She calls out your name.
You squat, meeting her eye. “It’s great to see you again—Is Alastor forcing you here?”
Her eyes shine with an innocent type of glee. “Yes! Yes! Yes!” She claps her hands. “I get to chase all the bugs here.” Nifftly leans closer to you, giggling. “Can I be strapped to your table again? I love it when you slice me open.”
“Maybe next ti—”
Charlie grabs your arm, hauling you forward. “Oh! Uh, Alastor! Our gracious facility manager! You've met our newest guest Sir Pentious…hehe…,” she tells him. Charlie keeps pulling you, only stopping when you stand before a grand staircase. “These two will be our special wonderful guests!”
Alastor does little to show you what he feels, there’s just that same empty grin.
He bought a new coat, you note. This new one has white streaks on the new collar and less stripes. Guess some things were more important than others.
You slip out of Charlie’s tight grasp. “I think you’re mistaken, my dear,” you say. “I’m not a guest— just a visitor.”
You hold your husband’s gaze and greet him.
ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ
“It’s good to see you,” you say, a smile drawn on your lips. “How are you doing on this wonderful morning?”
Alastor turns to you, drops an item into his grocery basket, and blinks. “I am amazing!” he says. He grabs your hand with his gloved ones and shakes it. His hands are warmer than you expect them to be. “Alastor. Pleasure to be meeting you. Quite the pleasure.”
You chuckle at him. “Yes, I’m aware of who you are.”
“Oh, how lovely!” He waves his fingers. “ are you on of my many fans?” His smile strains, and there, you see it, on the corner of his cheek. His nose flares and his smile takes the appearance of a snarl. Maybe it was the other way around.
“A bit,” you admit, adjusting your hold on the basket. “How are your stitches, Sir?”
His eyes widen—brown eyes, you note. “The good doctor!”
“I think you mean the good nurse.”
“Oh yes, yes,” he hums and inches the basket away from your gaze. “I’ve been taking my medicine, and replacing my dressing every three days, just like you said.”
“Good—that’s great to hear. No more accidents?”
“None!” He laughs. “And if one does happen, I’ll be sure to present you with an injury that is only hours old.”
A giggle slips through your lips. “That’s even better to hear,” you say. You clear your throat, tightening the hold on your basket. “I’d hate to take even more of your time. I’ll let you go on with your day.”
A firm grip on the basket handles keeps your feet planted on the glossy floor of the general store. “Not so fast, my dear. I think you still owe me,” he says. Your teeth bare into what you hope is a polite smile. “You promised to show me your marvelous embroidery the next time we meet! You’re not the type of lady to go back on your word now, are you?
“You sure do know how to put such ladies into a tight spot.”
Alastor laughs, breathy and light. “I assure you; I don’t mean to. I tend to get very excited about art
“Well, with you holding my integrity hostage, and the addition of such lovely enthusiasm, I find myself having trouble refusing.” You reach into your purse and pull out a clean handkerchief. “Sadly, I wasn’t expecting the general storm to be an art gallery, so this will have to do.”
And there it is again, that same breathy and light laughter. “They really do have everything in here
Alastor takes your handkerchief with steady enthusiasm, studying each stitch carefully. It’s one of your simpler designs—tiny flower bouquets scattered across the fabric. Your eyes are drawn to the contents of his basket: rope, strong acids, latex gloves, rolls of plastic wrap, and other such interesting items.
“You have such beautiful handiwork.”
“You can keep it if you wish,” you tell him. “I have thousands back home, and I’m always weak to such flattering compliments— a real boost to my ego.”
“Splendid!” Alastor slips the handkerchief into his coat. “I love receiving gifts from fans.”
You smile at him to hide your frown. You are not some fan-girl. “Of course.”
Alastor is following you.
The conversation ended several beats of silence ago, but he trails behind your every step. You skip the aisle where they sell produce, stop to grab some eggs, ask the butcher for 50g of chicken liver, and smile back when he smiles back. You sigh and lead Alastor to the end of the general store, and into an aisle.
You snatch a glass bottle of chemicals off the shelf—they really do have everything here. “Going for a hunt soon?” you ask, and read the label.
His smile brightens as he says, “Why yes! There was this wonderful prey that I spotted the other day, and I’m just dying to have his head hanging on my wall.”
You offer him the bottle. “You have a lovely coat. It would be a shame for it to be ruined by stains,” you say. “This always does the trick when dealing with the redder parts of my job.”
He takes the bottle from you.
“Take this as well,” you say and reach into your basket. “It’s the last bottle of 12% hydrogen peroxide in this store, but you need it more than I do. A ratio of fifty-fifty of this and a bit of hair developer in a bucket of water should brighten up your bones. Just let it soak for a day. Oh…and just in case, those two chemicals are safe to mix. You should avoid doing so, but an accident wouldn’t hurt you.”
Alastor offers his basket, and you drop the bottle along with the other hazardous substances. “You sound certain.”
“That is because I am.”
Fate has granted you a humorous shopping companion, and you decide to stop fighting it. Alastor follows you to the bread aisle.
You point to the top shelf. “Can you…?”
He drops the bread into your basket, and stares at you with what you think is curious tenacity.
“My father works as a butcher,” you say, sighing. “He prides himself on catching the venison he sells. We don’t believe in wasting a precious body, so we use it until there is nothing left to give. He came back from his own hunt and wanted to add another antler to his display
Alastor hums. “Won’t you need these then?”
“There’s still a bit leftover sitting in his workshop. I just came to get an extra bottle.”
Alastor continues to follow. “Do you often aid your father in his work?”
“Not as frequent as when I was a teen, but I still aid him when I have the time to do so,” you say. “It’s how I got to be so normal around a knife —the sharp ones are the best, they cut right through the skin, and with enough force, the bones as well. I keep a little collection of bones at home.”
“Such interesting hobbies you have.”
You pick up two coffee bags and hum. “Thank you.”
His bowtie is crooked. You point to inform him and reach out to straighten it. Alastor jerks away and spins to reach into the shelf behind you. “I rather detest owing favors, and you have done me two,” he says, offering you an entirely different brand of coffee beans. “I suggest you try this one. It’s flavors are far richer.”
You offer your basket and Alastor drops it right in.
You eye his basket once more. “Will that be all you’re purchasing?”
He nods, smiling at you.
You smile back.
Well, isn’t this just lovely? Well-dressed gentlemen really are your favorite.
ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ
Charlie whips her head, mouth wide as she stares at you and then at Alastor. Angel Dust has an arm on his hips, his brows furrowed and mouth quirked to the side an awkward but rather cute frown. Sir Pentious’ hat squints at you with what you assume is confusion—you can’t really tell. Sir Pentious’s tongue sticks out of his bewildered and crooked frown. “Oh! How nice,” Charlie says after a beat. “So, you two know each other?”
“Partners,” you say
“Friends,” Alastor says
Your smile strains as you say, “To be called a friend by the Radio Demon is quite the honor.” Alastor wipes his monocle with a proud puff.
Angel Dust whistles, leaning on the railing with the first set of arms crossed, and the second propped on his hip. “Didn’t think Freak would be the type to have friends.”
“Neither did I!” You say with a loud laugh. “Well, that’s what I am – a f̵̼̎r̴͔̃i̶̦̍e̶͕͠ṋ̸̀d̶͚̋.” You smoothen your puffed-up feathers. “Apologies.”
More introductions are done. Charlie insists on giving Sir Pentious his first lesson on apology. It goes about as well as you think.
Charlie winces a bit “….Ooooookay,” she says and inhales to plaster a huge smile. “Why don’t we… uh… take a look at the kitchen!”
Angel Dust takes one look at Charlie’s enthusiasm, winces, and says he’s getting a drink.
Charlie’s death grip on Sir Pentious stays firm as you trudge to the kitchen. She stalls at every painting to explain its history, and introduces every crack on the wall, showing it off with an enthusiastic glee. Even the water-stained wallpaper gets its own special moment during the tour. (Where is that ill-mannered girl when you need her?)
You lag a few steps behind. “Alastor…”, you say as a greeting.
Alastor matches your pace, using his microphone as a cane. With the very tip of his fingers, he plucks a stray feather off your hair with a coy smile that reaches from ear to ear. “I’m sure you’ve been wondering how I’ve been fairing these last few years,” he says, spinning that microphone of his and waving his hand like some kind of street performer.
“Has it really been that long?”
“Yes, I know I’ve been absent for some time,” he starts. “It’s nothing serious; I assure you. It’s nothing I cannot handle as well.”
“My goodness, and here I thought you were occupied at work.” Your teeth flash when you smile. “But in any case, it’s quite… kind… of you to soothe what little worry this friend might have for you.” Alastor and his microphone laugh at you, but you hum with satisfaction when his eyes narrow into a glare.
Charlie and Sir Pentious wave their hands, calling you from across the hall, and you hasten your steps.
The kitchen intimidates you. So many large and metallic machines. You’re sure it would be a living hell should you ever need to operate such an unorthodox set of appliances.
Copper-red tables fill the space, and similar colored cabinets stick to the wall. Such peculiar stoves they have in this establishment. There seems to be no space for the gas tank, nor a gas burner, just some flat glass with weird markings. You prefer the appliances stashed at your home.
“This…,” Charlie starts, winding her arms to a point, “…is the kitchen!”
Sir Pentious’ flaps extend, his arms rocking with excitement. “Such lovely metallic inventions.” He slithers to counter with a dip that appears to mimic some kind of skin. There’s some type of yellow liquid. “This bubbly torture deviccceeee is my favorite.”
“Uhhhhhh…I love that you love the kitchen appliance,” she says with an honestly gentle smile. “But that’s actually an oil fryer.” Charlie crosses her arm into a big ‘x’. “But no torturing is done here, no siree.”
“What a peculiar shape for an oil fryer to be,” you say, taking a look. Alastor glances over your shoulder to take a peek as well. “And there’s so much metal around—did you run out of paint, perhaps?”
Charlie frowns, her shoulder dropping low. “I’d love to add different colors to the machine, but Vaggie says it would take up too much money and time.”
Her frown lasts a second before she’s smiling again.
“Oh oh oh! You should take a look around. See if there’s anything you might want to add.” Charlie drags you towards one of the cabinets at the back. “We each have a shelf dedicated to our own snacks, but I always love to leave cookies on the communal snack pantry.”
Charlie prattles on, introducing each section of the cabinet. You watch Alastor warily when he shows his teeth. He wiggles his fingers across the air, reaching towards the shelf where Charlie just mentioned Vaggie storing her personal snacks. You slam the cabinet door before he reaches them.
Soft static fills the kitchen air.
“Go on,” Charlie urges. “Take a look around – I know some species of Sinners have specific dietary needs.” She props a hand on her chin. “Like Angel! He can’t seem to be able to have any milk—I wonder why? But he just keeps drinking it anyway for some reason.”
Does the Princess of Hell not know what Lactose Intolerance is? Maybe because she’s never lived as a human. It’s quite humorous, you suppose. A hell-born trying to guide a human, with little to no insight about humanity. Could this be the reason why she’s so naively optimistic?
Sir Pentious’ smile widens, and so does his flap. “You’re… giving…me permission to poke around?”
“Er…yes?”
You open a random cabinet door, and huh…
On the shelf, towards the back, you have the same set of spices in your own kitchen. One of the bottles here has its label stained and fraying at the edges. Another bottle is nearing empty, and the corner of the cap has been chipped off. There was a time, when your own set of spices was stained with oil, and its label frayed because of the constant picking to the edges.
Yesterday, you threw out a set of unopened bottles of spices, its seal still clinging to the caps and brimming with unused flavor, and replaced it with the same set of sealed spices. It’s a waste of your money to keep throwing out something that you never use, but…but…you find it in your grocery basket every single time.
Alastor closes the cabinet with a gentle click.
Your smile fades, and he holds your gaze.
“You are shedding all over my kitchen floors.” Alastor presents you with a bundle of your feathers bunched up on his palm. His grin mocks you.
You turn away, heading where Charlie and Sir Pentious converse. You do not shed.
Alastor pops out of your shadow, towering over you as he inches closer. “Long day?” he says with a hum, that smile still on his face. “You don’t usually start molting until the mid-summer.”
“Oh yes,” you say with a hum, that frown still on your face. “This day has been quite long. How very generous of you to check up on this friend of yours.”
He holds the feathers he’s collected, examining them with a careful eye. “With this rate, you’ll be able to gift a whole pillow.”
Your frown deepens. “Lovely,” you murmur. “I’ll make sure to do so.”
Alastor twirls his microphone and lands it with a soft thunk. He studies you for a second. “Rosie’s last husband got eaten by a shark,” he says. “Not even a loan shark—just a proper dead shark. She swore vengeance on the creature for taking a bite before she had a chance to.”
“What?” you say, and you can’t help but chuckle. “Is that what happened to him? She would be so vague about it when I ask.”
Alastor draws a line along his face, mimicking a smile with his fingers. “Much better, indeed.”
Charlie insists on showing the view from the top of the Hotel. Her arms cross around your own as she chatters about everyone and everything. It’s refreshing to meet a soul as honest as hers.
The elevator ride is painfully slow. The music strains your ears, and this battered metal death box jerks with every floor.
Sir Pentious and his hat scowl at the ‘absolutely inferior ssssmmelting of this handle, Charlie’ and ‘this piss poor wiring. The endsss are not aligned to the proper sssssafety guidelineeeesss’ or something.
Charlie listens in on every word, nodding to indicate that she hears each and everyone. It makes you smile. Alastor picks at your stray feathers with the tip of his fingers, preening the areas you have difficulty reaching.
Moments too late, the elevator doors open with that heavenly ding.
“The view up here is helltastically a-mazing!” Charlie informs the group. “Alastor, you often hide up here or inside the radio tower. It’s really good, right?”
Alastor switches his hold on the microphone, swinging to catch it. “Quite helltastic indeed!” he says. “ I get to see the whole city underneath my very feet.”
Sir Pentious nods. “I, too, would love to sssseee the city underneath me!”
Alastor swings a door open, gesturing for the group to enter like a gentleman. Charlie whispers an audible ‘awww’ at the sight and saunters right in. Sir Pentious follows along, slithering behind her.
He shuts the door when you take a step forward, separating you from Charlie and Sir Pentious.
There’s still that never ending smile on his lips as Alastor strides to the other end of the hallway, playing with his microphone. You follow behind in silence. Alastor opens a different door, and this time, you step through.
Alastor closes the door, leaving you and him together, alone, on this flimsy balcony. He beams at you, taking a step forward—
You slap him.
Radio static glitches from his microphone. There, on the corner of his cheek, you see the strain in his smile. His eyes harden into a glare, his nostrils flare, and his smile takes on the appearance of a snarl.
The air around you starts to gray with static. Symbols carve themselves into the space.
You slap him again, staring down at him.
“Is that all you came to do?” Alastor says to you with a low snarl, but the symbols dissolve and his antlers shrink.
You turn towards the view, propping a hand on your chin. “Such harsh words for a friend,” you say with a sarcastic smile. “It’s a wonder why you don’t have more with such a dazzling personality. At any rate, it’ll be impossible to find yourself a wife.”
His eyes twitch, and Alastor strikes the ground with his microphone. “Well, consider it an honor,” he says, inching closer, mimicking your smile. “Not many can say such words to me, much less be able to strike my flesh
“Maybe they should—someone certainly has to.”
Alastor still has a smile—he always has a smile. You watch as his eyes morph into radio dials, and the absolute audacity of that man to look at you like that.
Your feathers sharpen and crack at the sight. “D̷̝̈́o̷̞͊n̷̟̂'̷̗̏ť̵͔ ̴̱̀f̷̳̓u̴͍̓c̷̛͕ḳ̵͝ ̴̲̽w̸̞̑í̵̞t̴̼̐ḥ̷͝ ̵̫͌m̸̻̔e̸̡͘!— you never have, so don’t start. Don’t test me—not today, my deerest,” you say, hissing at him.
“What is it that you want, exactly?” he says, glancing down at you. “Unless you are a child, I expect you to use your words.”
“You know I’m not just some friend — you do not allow yourself to make such connections. We’re partners,” you tell him, and you don’t know why you remind him when he should already know. Was it in fear that he forgot? “But you left without as much as a word.”
“Was it that I left? Or was it that I left you?” Alastor says with casualty as if to show you such dismissal, and oh…yes, your husband can be a cruel man, indeed. Time and sweet smiles made you forget.
You rub your hands on your face, taking one deep breath. “I want what I deserve—an explanation,” you say. “That’s all I need as your wife.”
It’s his silence that makes you turn away.
“I see…” Your face falls. “Perhaps, it was a mistake to seek you out. A fool’s errand.”
You study the sinners below. The whole city really can be seen from underneath your very feet. (You ignore the trembling of your fists. You’re a doctor, for fucks sake. Your hands don’t tremble…at least, they never have before.)
Hesitant, but gentle touches pick at your feathers. Alastor preens you with warm hands. “You are not a fool, my love,” he says. “I would not be yours if such were the case.”
You harden your heart for you cannot let this man see the cracks. “This is not what I wish to hear,” you say, voice steady.
Alastor does not answer you.
“Will you just stay silent every time?”
“Yes.”
Finally, you meet his gaze. You hold it as much as he holds yours. “ There is not a thing in this world that you do not do without reason,” you say slowly. “However, I’m not sure if your silence is because you cannot or if it’s because you will not explain yourself to me. Which is it?”
There is nothing on his face that you can read, just a small steady smile that tells you nothing. “I will not.”
“I know you, my deerest, and I know that you’ve never once led me astray.” Your grip on the railing tightens painfully. This day has been long. “Then all I need is your word that you will return to me with that smile of yours when you’ve accomplished what you need to do.”
Alastor smiles at you, twirling his microphone. “We can even shake on it.”
You shake your head. “This is not a deal,” you say. “This is your wife demanding that you do so.”
“Then it shall be done,” Alastor says, inching close enough for his warmth to spread. He turns to you and pokes his cheeks to indicate a smile. "You look much more radiant with one."
You bare your teeth at him, giving a dry smile. “Much better?”
“Indeed.”
You study the sinners below once more, but this time your hands stay steady next to Alastor’s own. Well, Charlie was correct, the view is helltastic. The entertainment district blinds you, but only for a second. And when you sharpen your vision, you can faintly make out acid clouds forming on the outskirts of the city. You should have grabbed an umbrella on your way out.
“I heard you on the radio today,” you say.
He glances at you, his smile widening ever so slightly with smugness. “And you came all this way for me?”
“Well, that is what good friends do for each other.”
Alastor points his nose to the air with a huff.
“I only jest, my deerest,” you say, chuckling at him. “ I came all the way here to see if I’ve been widowed a second time, or just dumped like a common rag.”
“Is that so?”Alastor hums with dissatisfaction. “I’m sure you mentioned something about not noticing such a long disappearance.”
You hold his gaze, inching your hand to cup his cheek. You stop inches above his skin, and your palm hovers enough for Alastor to feel the warmness you hold on your hands. “Don’t pout, my deer,” you tell him, softly, oh so very soft as you caress the air. “Of course, I noticed your absence.”
You clap your hands together with the brightest and most innocent smile you can muster.
“But if I told you that, my deerest,” you start, “I feared that big head of yours would implode if I fed your ego.”
Alastor laughs, and his real voice bleeds in as he does. “That humor of yours has been my most wonderful companion all these years.”
You smile with satisfaction. “My, my, you make such fine compliments.”
His smile relaxes. “I do, indeed!”
“Just as you say that my humor makes a fine companion,” you say as you laugh, bright and heavy, “that smile of yours has been mine.”
A knock breaks the moment.
The door swings open, slow and hesitant. Charlie pokes her head, and her hair droops to the sideways. Behind her, Sir Pentious waves at you. You wave back.
“Oooooooohhhh….yikes,” Charlie says, shrinking deeper into the door. “Am I interrupting? I could just go an—”
“Not at all my dear,” you say. “Come right in. You have such a lovely view, and things like this are better when shared.”
Charlie swings the door wider, sauntering right in, and grabs your hand, squeezing it. “You could live here as well!” she says. Behind her, Sir Pentious nods with the sweetest smile you’ve ever seen. “We accept everyone.”
You flicker your gaze to Alastor. “I already have a home,” you find yourself saying. “And this place is far too close to the city. So much honking and blasting aren’t good for my ears.”
Charlie pouts, but she doesn’t press you.
The view is better when shared. Charlie points at every detail and explains everything you see. The sky darkens to a red, and too soon, it’s time to leave.
There’s a warm, but firm, hand resting on your back when you walk out the door, down the hall, and into the elevator. Alastor keeps his hands steady, even when you reach the common room.
Vaggie is the first to greet your group—well, it’s more appropriate to say she greets Charlie, and you just happen to be there. There’s a bag by her feet. “I was able to find the costumes you need for the exercise,” she says. “Even the giant lollipop is here.”
Charlie squeals. “Thank you thank you thank you!” Her excited gaze filters to you. “I have this wonderful game in mind, and then we could fo a bit of some of that good ol’ roleplay.” Angel Dust quirks a smile from the couch. “You should totally sta—”
“I’m afraid not,” Alastor says, drumming his fingers on his microphone. “I think it’s time for our visitor to head home. She’s had quite a long day.”
“Oh, of course. No worries!” Charlie says, giving you a bright smile—a real genuine and honest smile. “Feel free to come by anytime. The Hazbin Hotel’s doors will always be open should you change your mind.”
Vaggie scratches her face. “Before you go, I want to apologize for this afternoon,” she says. “It wasn’t right of me to be so hostile—I’m sorry.”
“Thank you, my dear. I understand,” you say quickly, ignoring the static behind you. “You were protecting something you cared about. I find great value in those who do.”
Vaggie smiles, and maybe she’s not too bad after all. “Thank you.”
From the couch, Angel Dust props his legs and waves at you. “And you’re welcome to open these doors any day.”
Alastor leads you to the door. You wave back at Niffty and Sir Pentious, whose eyes water as he frowns. Alastor’s hand stays firm as you trudge down the hill, past the rusted gate, into the city, and to the correct bust stop.
“You sure know how to find the most interesting groups of people, my deer,” you say. “Charlie and that hotel of hers are wonderful.”
Alastor adjusts his monocle. “Well, you know me. I see potential, and I follow it wherever it leads.”
“Should I be worried?” you say, chuckling. “The last time you saw potential, it ended with us married.”
“Not at all, my love.”
“You should continue to stay at the hotel,” you find yourself saying. “There’s just something about it—I think you’ll pick up quite a lot from your time there.”
His bowtie is crooked. You point to inform him, and reach out to straighten it. Alastor inches closer. The fabric is smooth underneath your touch. There’s stray lint on the shoulder of his coat, and you brush that away. You grab the lapes and adjust its fit, smoothing the fabric beneath your fingers.
“Much better?” he asks.
“Indeed,” you say, softly.
“I will see you soon,” he says, and you hear the unspoken promise and question hidden beneath his words.
“Good.”
Alastor tilts your chin with the tips of fingers. (And oh…oh. His gloves are off, and his hands are warmer than ever) He presses his lips on your cheek.
That blasted bus arrives too soon. You step inside, but turn to your husband and say, “Next time, when you disappear for several years, I expect to be informed and not just left with a vague note,” you say with a huff. “And when you return, I also expect to be the first to be informed.”
“Of course.”
“See to it that you keep your word.”
The bus door closes, and you take your seat. You smile to yourself and lean back on the crusty bus fabric. Patting your pocket, you take out a single gold band, slipping it on your finger.
ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ
That habit of recklessness in moments of excitement was something your father hoped you’d grow out of. Thinking things through never really was one of your many strengths when such an exhilarating opportunity presents itself.
You scold yourself for not double-checking for gloves. Measure twice, cut one, and all that. But no matter, you’ll push through as always, clawing and digging to unearth the treasure left behind.
Your scalpel fits into your palms. Throughout this Earth, no… not just Earth, but Heaven and Hell as well, nothing will ever be as perfect.
You sigh, breathy and exhilarated, and begin.
‘First, do no harm’
But this…this does not harm a single living being.
ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ
Next Part: |Not Everything You Hear From The Radio Should Be Trusted|
If you guys know who Octavia and Stolas are, that's what I imagine when I think about the reader's hair.
Also, maybe some of you noticed, but I'm very relaxed when it comes to formatting my writing. Its why I use quite a lot of ellipses and em dashes and utilize italics and spaces. But the one thing I was very strict about was not to use the word, "miss". So there are no "You miss..." and "I miss..."
But the words are there and spoken beneath actions and thoughts, hidden and unspoken, but known.
My inbox is always open because I'd like to know what your favorite unspoken "I miss you" is/are. I have my own favorite ones as well.
#alastor x reader#Alastor x wife!reader#hazbin hotel x you#alastor x you#alastor the radio demon#alastor hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel#hazbin alastor#Hazbin x reader#Hazbin Hotel imagines#Hazbin imagines#Hazbin Hotel x reader#alastor#alastor x wife reader
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𝑩𝒂𝒃𝒚𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍𝒔?! - 𝒑𝒕. 𝟐
꩜ Room Content: Dom! GN! Reader! x Sub! Xiao, Sub! Zhongli, Sub! Diluc (separate), all 3 of them are inexperienced virgins, mild monsterfucking(?) in Xiao's part, handcuffs in Zhongli's part, lmk if I missed out anything!
꩜ A/N: Part 2 !!! Sorry for the wait, made this one slightly longer to make up for it orz, enjoy the tired meowmeow trio! Tried to make it as in character as possible but could be ooc 💀, feedback if anyone's too ooc LMAO
꩜ Adjoining Rooms: Part 1 (Wanderer, Aether, Kaveh)
It’s your first time fucking your babygirl, what trait of his catches your eye?
🏷️𝑹𝒐𝒐𝒎 𝟎𝟒𝟏𝟕: 𝑿𝒊𝒂𝒐
I’d like to think with how much he does seek out approval from those he looks up to, plus how he usually never lets himself be loved, the second your hands wrap around his cock and you mutter a soft “you’re so good for me, Xiao,” the walls he set around his heart slowly start crumbling down
Perhaps more adeptal features start showing itself to you for the first time in your whole relationship with him
Carding your hands through his hair, you feel the soft feathers starting to sprout from the nape of his neck down to his shoulder blades
As you work him to his peak, the tattoo on his right arm starts to glow faintly
Maybe if you make him cum enough, he’ll show you all of his adeptal form 👀
“That’s it Xiao, don’t hold back,” you purr into his ear as his face gets impossibly redder. Your hands wring out the most delectable noises from him but it’s not enough. You want more. (And judging by his reactions, so does he)
“Hah, ahn! So so so close…!” His body is tense, teetering on the edge of euphoria, piercing golden eyes gazing into yours. Even in the throes of pleasure, he’s still waiting for you to give him permission to cum.
“So perfect, go on, cum for me.” A particularly harsh jerk has his eyes rolling into the back of his head, breath hitching as he chokes on air. Your eyes catch the pale green tattoo shimmer when the pressure building in him snaps, his orgasm splattering across his toned tummy and coating your hand.
When you look back up at Xiao, he has deep teal feathers dotted around his shoulders, and wait- Are those talons?! Noticing your gaze, he attempts to squirm out of your embrace, angling his body away to hide his features that made a sudden appearance. But you know your skittish sweetheart too well. Your hands immediately clamp down on his waist and he bites back a whimper, stopping his escape.
“Don’t look at m- mmph?!” His cock is engulfed by your mouth, any previous thoughts of shying away instantly dispelled.
“I wonder how much more you’re holding back from me darling?” With that look in your eyes, Xiao knows he’s in for a long night ♡
🏷️𝑹𝒐𝒐𝒎 𝟏𝟐𝟑𝟏: 𝒁𝒉𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒊
He’s not exactly… uneducated on coitus or sexual intercourse per se
(Don’t ask him how many lewd prayers he’s had to listen to over the years)
But no matter the amount of knowledge he has amassed, nothing beats hands-on experience and expertise (that he, very glaringly, lacks)
The furthest he’s gone is clumsily fumbling around with his body and figuring out some of his erogenous spots and ahem deepest fantasies after hearing an especially steamy prayer one night
Which is why you have a naked and blushing 6000-years-old ex-deity lying in your bed right now
Thankfully he can always count on you to ravish him!
The flickering candlelight casts a warm orange sort of radiance on his skin, further accentuating the glimmering veins of molten gold climbing up his arms. Trailing your gaze upwards, you are greeted with the sight of geo-constructed cuffs circling his wrists, shackling him to your bed. His face is practically scarlet with how embarrassed he is right now but with how much effort he has put in, he’s determined to see tonight through.
(The sight before you reminds you suspiciously of a scene in that raunchy erotica book you lent him a couple weeks ago. It’s kind of cute when you think of how long he has had this desire ruminating in his mind.)
“T-touch me please, dear,” his voice is gravelly, laced with a desperate need for your hands to roam all over him, cock twitching at the thought.
“Where do you want me to touch you? What makes you burn and shudder from how good it feels?” Such licentious words! Zhongli can’t help but shake with anticipation at your next sentence.
“Don’t worry dear, I’ll give you everything a god could ever want.”
🏷️𝑹𝒐𝒐𝒎 𝟎𝟒𝟑𝟎: 𝑫𝒊𝒍𝒖𝒄 𝑹.
Our favourite repressed redhead!
Despite the more-than-enough prospective fiancées he’s introduced to during banquets and festivals, he’s never really progressed far enough in a relationship for him to tumble into bed with another
That is, until you entered into his life and stole his heart (and soon, his virginity!)
Very obedient and mostly just goes along with whatever you say so he greatly appreciates it when you regularly check in to make sure he’s comfortable
Do: Praise him. He’ll cum the second you praise him!
Don’t: Expect him to tell you what he wants. He has no idea either 💀
“Like this? Ah… it feels a little- hng! -weird!” His index finger slowly disappears into him the way you’ve instructed and he’s gradually getting used to the sensation of his ass being penetrated. Brows furrowed, he looks up at you for your input (oh you’ll be putting something in him alright)
“That’s right, doing very well! You’re a fast learner, as expected of my Diluc.” Hearing your praise, it spurs him on to push deeper, loosening him up even more. You can see every little action he does, seated across from him but never touching him. The amount of concentration he puts into fingering himself for the first time is honestly endearing, sweat already forming on his forehead, thigh muscles tensing and relaxing at the new experience.
When he jolts, toes curling and head thrown back in a flurry of red, you know he’s discovered where his prostate is. Diluc looks breathless yet so breathtaking, his face the same colour as his hair, chest heaving as he tries to recover from the lick of ecstasy he just tasted.
He looks so cute and clueless but you’ll help him out, won’t you?
Thanks for reading! Consider supporting me on kofi if you enjoyed this or check out my other works hehe ♡
#📜.qi musings#genshin#genshin x reader#genshin smut#sub genshin#dom reader#xiao x reader#xiao smut#sub xiao#zhongli x reader#zhongli smut#sub zhongli#diluc x reader#diluc smut#sub diluc#2 more parts to go !!#📜.qi writings
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❝ BIRDS OF A FEATHER... ❞
intro... (you are here) | ch. 1... |
word count: 1.4k
warnings: kaveh x male reader. reader is kind of stuck up and an asshole I guess? he's also a massive tease so there's that too
prompt: it's not everyday such a face strolls into sumeru, especially when your big day is coming up. when you want an architect to redesign the interior of the venue for your coming of power, kaveh just happens to be unable to keep his trap shut. now, the pride of sumeru is held atop his fingertips. what will he do to keep you significantly pleased..?
notes: everyone is going to be ooc because I can't be bothered to research on how these characters act and bond, so I'm going off whatever is on the top of my head. I don't want to work on my other drafts bc im just not feeling it so here's a series I might work on in the meantime
fem aligned dni
A golden pheasant.
With patterns so elegant and beautiful, anyone would make way for the figure that steps so silently against the rough, grey stones. Unkissable lips are shielded from the eyes of the unworthy, a fan made with golden feathers blocking the lower half of the presence’s face. Li Yue’s treasure, they called this person, rumors saying that they held more value than the Jade Palace itself.
People stared in awe at such an influential figure stalking through the streets of Sumeru, whispering about why they were here in the first place. Such a noble wouldn’t even show their face to the public unless needed to, so why are they here, gracing the commoners with such a sight?
“Make way for the heir! Lower your heads!” One of the Millileth soldiers at your side barks at the citizens of Sumeru, earning a distasteful look from the noble. The soldier shrinks under their gaze, lips pursing in shame for speaking without command.
The fan snaps shut, “Excuse them,” they hiss out in annoyance, “My guards don’t seem to realize that we are in a different country that undergoes a different culture. Not just that but that my status doesn’t matter as much here. Feel free to act as if it is a normal day, do not mind my presence.” The fan spreads once more as you make your way to the Akademiya.
Kaveh can’t help but stare at such a powerful man being within such a close proximity of him, wondering what type of business he had within Sumeru. Surely, it must be really important if he had to show up in person with all his glory. Although he hesitates, Kaveh follows you to the Akedemiya. It wouldn’t seem suspicious because he is a student there but something big must be happening and his curiosity won’t settle until he finds out.
Noticing how majestically you carry yourself despite the dirt beginning to gather at the ends of your coat, Kaveh is nothing short of entranced by how royal you seem. Radiating a gentle yet intimidating persona behind the security of that fan, willing to crush anyone beneath the heel of your boot if someone were to step out of place but also caress the chin of a treasure you desire. Two conflicting faces broken and moulded into one. It makes Kaveh’s eyes close in disgust and his gut to wrench at the idea of getting on your bad side. When his eyes open, he takes notice of the Electro vision that sits on your lower back, hung on a chain that is tight on your waist.
Tearing his gaze away from the vision, the doors to the Akademiya open to reveal his three friends standing there before they kneel almost immediately. It was certainly a sight to behold, seeing Al Haitham being so obedient despite his snappy nature. Kaveh almost dared to laugh before a quick glare from Cyno shut him up and the architect dropped to the floor in respect.
Fan snapping shut once more, you speak, “Please raise your heads, there is no need for such politeness.” You sigh at the end of your sentence, watching as one of your guards gave you a baffled look. Lightning crackled beneath your feet as you glared at the soldier, causing him to yelp and shut up before he could even make another remark.
“My liege,” Al Haitham was the first to rise from the ground, hand still placed over his chest, “Do you have everything you desire for your celebration of the inheritance of your family? List of items desired, location held..?” His voice trails off, letting you list off what you have.
“I have most of what I need.” Your eyes close as if you were in thought, “However, the interior of where I want it held is.. bland. Missing the flare I crave. I would like to hire an architect.”
Maybe Kaveh gets too excited, because the way he chimes up when you mention architecture doesn’t go ignored, “I can help with that!” Your eyes sharply turn towards him and his stomach twists unpleasantly at the pointed stare you give him. In fact, everyone looks at him funny. Now, nervously, he purses his lips and fiddles with his thumbs, “W-well, that is if you’ll let me.. um, all I would need to know is the aesthetic you’d like and the budget..” He mutters sheepishly.
“Golden academia, ten million mora. The gold doesn’t have to be real, just believable.” You answer him with a ‘fwip!’ of your fan, flowing air through your face and the locks of your hair, “Any leftover funds in your hands by the time you’re finished you may keep as a tip.”
Kaveh perks up in surprise, sputtering an, “Of course!” nerves now on fire just from how much the money loosens restrictions, “Um, do you mind showing me the building so I could get started on thinking up something?”
He thinks that you hid the amused smile poorly because from behind the fan, he could make out the slight quirk of your lips and the nearly unnoticeable squint of your eyes. Heart nearly jumping out of his chest, you turn to fully face him, “Tomorrow, little bird of paradise.” A hand shuffles to pull a scroll from your pocket, handing it over to Al Haitham, “This is the rest of the stuff I need. I’ll throw in extra money for your help.”
The scribe opens its seal, skims it over, and gives you a nod. You smile in return and turn around, closing your fan as you head towards the exit. Nothing, however, prepares Kaveh for the way the end of your fan brushes against his jawline with that pointed stare and subtle smirk you wear as your step towards the door. His face flushes a hundred times more red when you whisper, “8 am, Avidya Forest. Try not to be late.”
The architect gulps in anticipation, letting go of the breath he hadn’t realized he’s been holding the second your fan no longer touches his skin. The doors shut behind your figure and the lobby of the Akademiya is eerily silent, an occasional shuffle coming from some random scholar's feet from across the hall.
After the momentary silence, Tighnari huffed out, causing Kaveh to blush embarrassingly at the words the forest ranger scoffs, “He’s so trying to get into your pants.”
…
“What were you thinking!?” Al Haitham seethes at Kaveh while pacing around in the living room, the latter’s hands digging into his hair. The two of them have gotten into many petty arguments but Kaveh thinks that this is the first time Al Haitham’s been truly infuriated with him. It’s heavily uncharacteristic of him but Kaveh knows that his anger is not misplaced.
“I don’t know!” Kaveh whines, burying his face into his hands after he pulls them away from his scalp, “I can’t tell if it was just the heat of the moment or the opportunity of working with Li Yue’s Treasure but I was talking before I even realized!”
“Kaveh,” Al Haitham growls, planting his hands on the table that sits in front of the couch, glaring at the blond, “if you fuck this up, you’ll destroy the pride Sumeru carries.” The said man peeks at his roommate through his fingers, “Li Yue’s Treasure is an influential man that holds so much power because of his inheritance. If one bad review comes from someone like him and it manages to be overheard, that business might as well just close down because their income will be tarnished, alongside their reputation. The whole country might as well just perish.”
His heart sinks in despair from how much pressure was suddenly placed on his shoulders. The nagging voices of his previous clients were enough to drive him crazy but you? Oh, boy. Kaveh’s not sure what to do with himself. He should shut his mouth permanently with stitches for any future events that may cause him to speak out. Deep down, the architect hopes you aren’t very picky or impatient, if those two were put together he’s sure he’d be dead before he even knows it.
“I’ll..” Kaveh sighs, carding his fingers through his bangs, “I’ll think of something, I swear.” When it spills from his lips, it sounds more like words to reassure himself. Kaveh doesn’t want to dig himself deeper into the dirt than he already has.
#male reader#x male reader#genshin x reader#genshin impact x male reader#genshin x male reader#genshin impact x reader#genshin x you#genshin impact x you#kaveh x reader#kaveh x male reader#“birds of a feather” series; kaveh x male reader
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Highway Robbery Yandere!Striker X Reader
Hey, guys! Long time no read! Today I bring you Yandere!Striker from Helluva Boss! I really fell in love with his character and knew I had to write something for him. I hope I didn't make him to OOC and that you enjoy! Thanks for reading!
Warnings: Swearing, Kidnapping, being held gunpoint (Reader), being robbed, being tied up (Reader)
Words: 2,796
I sighed as I fluffed up my dark blue vest. I was feeling a bit tired today, but still ready for the day nonetheless. The sunlight from the morning strobed through the beautiful stained glass windows and the smell of eggs and bacon permeated the kitchen air. Today was going to be a long one with the Goetia family as Stolas would be in meetings and Stella was visiting her brother. Taking the breakfast from its pan, I plated them on intricate blue laced porcelain plates. Satisfied, I grabbed all three and headed to the main dining room. At the head of the table sat the Prince himself, a newspaper open in his hands. Stella sat across from him on the rotary phone, her conversation very loud. Octavia sat in between them, her earbuds in to tune out the world. Going around the table I sat each plate down and then stood off to the side. Pringles came up beside me and read off each royal’s schedule for the day. When he finished he turned to me. “Y/n, I need you to pick up some packages that are ready. I have a set list of where you need to go.”
“Of course, Pringles. I’ll get on it straight away.”
He nodded and the two of us stood by our masters in case we were needed. When breakfast was finally cleared, I went to my room and grabbed my coat. It was quite lovely: a nice heavy dark blue cotton that reached my ankles, gold embellishments detailing celestial bodies across the lapels and upper back. It was a gift from Stolas when I first arrived at the Goetia estate nearly a decade ago. I put it on and exited to the lobby, seeing the Prince and Pringles chatting. They stopped upon seeing me and my fellow servant nodded in my direction. “Your list, my lady.”
He handed me the small piece of parchment and upon skimming through it I noticed most things were for Stella. Stolas was next to hold his hand, a small lumpy brown bag in his talons. “Some money in case things were not paid for.”
He gently sat the bag in my impish hands. “Thank you, Sire.”
I bowed and placed the bag into the pocket of my coat. Bidding the two goodbye, I headed out the door.
Most of my morning and afternoon were spent going into various shops and picking up the desired packages for the Goetia family. I had acquired a large bag full by the time I headed home. However, as I was walking I felt something wrap around my waist. Looking down I saw a lasso and before I could do anything I was tugged into an alleyway. My head slammed against the brick building behind me and I felt the cold tip of a gun against my temple. Looking up in fright, I saw a light red cowboy imp snarling in my direction. His long tail kept flicking back and forth as he dug the weapon into my skin. “Well, well, well. Look what we have ‘ere. Yer far from home aren’t ya, little Goetia peasant.”
I trembled and the rope around my waist felt like it was going tighter. “W-what do you want?”
He smirked, his golden tooth glinting in the light. “I’ve been watchin’ ya all day, just waitin’ for the right moment to strike. Yer masters need their feathers ruffled so give me all ya got!”
Before I could question what he wanted, he attempted to tug the bag from my hands. I gripped tight and tried to hold it back. Within the struggle the bag ripped and everything dumped out. I gasped and the safety of the gun clicked off. “Pick. It. Up. Darlin’.”
The rope around my waist disappeared and I fell to my knees. My arms trembled as I picked everything up and handed it to him. He threw everything into a knapsack hanging off his shoulder before his yellow eyes stared back down at me. “Ya know, that jacket of yours would fetch a pretty price. Give it.”
I sighed but shakily took it off and handed it to the imp. His eyes scanned me once more before they stopped on the silver chain dangling from my neck. “Tryin’ to hide something valuable, princess? I don’t think so!”
He aimed the black gun at my neck and tapped my necklace with the tip. I gasped and clutched it in my hand. “I-I can’t! You can have everything but that! I-It was a gift from a friend!”
“Save the fuckin’ sob story. Hand it over.”
“No!”
He growled, slapped my hand away, and tugged. I gasped when I heard the chain snap and watched as he twirled the locket in his claws. He gave a chuckle as he opened the heart charm when suddenly his face fell. I could swear his face went paler than it already was. His eyes flicked back up to me and roamed my face, his Adam's apple bobbing from his gulp. Suddenly his gun came up and smacked my temple, throwing me to the ground in pain. I grunted and watched my perpetrator run off. Oh Lucifer, what was I going to tell Stolas?
I sighed in defeat and stood, dusting myself off. Silently I made my way back to the Goetia estate.
When I entered the foyer, I did my best to creep past Stolas’ office. However, he looked up and caught me. “Ah, Y/n! You’re back!”
He stood and made his way out the door to me. A smile graced his beak but it fell when he saw the state of me. My hair had become messed up from my fall and there was most likely a bruise forming from where the imp smacked my temple. “Y/n, oh my stars! Are you alright? What happened?!”
He knelt down and lightly brushed his talons across my forehead. “I’m sorry, Your Highness. On my way back I was robbed. An imp held me at gunpoint and took everything. I’m so sorry!”
I started to cry and held my hands up to my eyes. Stolas placed his hands on my shoulders to try and soothe me. “There, there. Everything will be fine.”
“But won’t Stella be mad? There was some expensive stuff he took.”
“No matter. All I care about is that you’re alright. Here, let’s get some ice to tend to that bruise.”
The Prince took me to the kitchen and had me sit as he went to the freezer. He placed some ice into a plastic bag and had me hold it to my temple. “I’m so sorry, Sire. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
“It’s no problem at all, Y/n. I’m just glad all you got was a knock on the head. How about you take it easy and I’ll have Pringles get dinner ready.”
“I can help too, your Highness!”
“No please, I insist.”
I sighed. I never understood why Stolas was so nice to me. “Thank you, Sire.”
He nodded and left me to my devices.
A few mornings later, I got dressed in my white dress shirt, blue vest and black pants. As I was tying my black bowtie I couldn’t help rub the area where my necklace used to be. It really was sentimental. It was basically a promise ring that my friend could afford at the time. With it gone I felt naked. A knock on my door made me get out of my thoughts. “Come in.”
The door opened to reveal Pringles. “Y/n, are you almost ready? His Highness is ready for you to take him to the Harvest Moon Festival.”
“I’ll be done in just a minute, sir.”
He nodded and headed off. I quickly tied my bowtie and made my way to the lobby where my boss stood waiting. “Ah Y/n, how are we feeling today? That bruise is not bothering you too much is it?”
Over the next few days my temple had gotten a sick purple and blue bruise. I was sort of used to it due to Stella’s tantrums but this one stung more. “It’s alright. How are we doing today, Sire?”
“Nervous. I heard my dearest Blitzy will be at the ceremony today and I don’t want to mess up in front of him.”
“I’m sure you’ll be fine, your Highness. Shall we go?”
He nodded and he teleported us to the Wrath ring. As soon as we got there a crowd had already formed around the stage. I walked behind my master and he gave his little speech. As I scanned the crowd, I froze. Standing next to Blitz was the imp that robbed me, a smug look on his face. I couldn’t believe it. Why the hell was he here? The cowboy spotted me and gave me a tip of his hat. I backed up a bit and as soon as Stolas was done I quickly followed him to his private booth.
The festival went off without a hitch. Stolas was making heart eyes and swooning everytime Blitz was caught in action. As I watched I couldn’t help but notice the cowboy keep his eyes on me when he could. It almost seemed like he was trying to impress me. Soon it was time for Stolas to announce the winners. The two of us went to the stage and the owl cleared his throat. “As for the winners we have in first place, Striker! And in second place, my darling Blitzy!~”
The two came on stage and I could finally put a name to the face. I didn’t dare to look at him, the flashbacks of the gun on his hip attached to my forehead to vivid. The rest kind of went in a blur. I stood by my master’s side as he greeted each of the imps and chatted. It was only a few minutes into the meet and greet I noticed Blitz and his friends missing. I knew Stolas was wanting to talk to his secret lover so I went to look for him. My legs brought me to a house and I couldn’t help but hear the commotion upstairs. I forced myself up the steps and couldn’t help the gasp that escaped my throat. On the floor lay an unconscious male and female imp, Blitz leaning against the bed with his hand on his arm, and Striker holding a rifle out the window. My eyes widened when I realized that the gun was pointed at Stolas.
I rushed in and attempted to tackle the cowboy, but his tail threw me against the wall. “Well look who decided to join us. If it isn’t little Y/n.”
How did he know my name?
I growled and attempted to stand, but his tail trapped me. “Ya know, I wasn’t expectin’ to see yer face again, but hey, I won’t say no to seein’ yer pretty eyes.”
“Fuck you! If you think your flirting will make me forget your robbery and the fact that you were trying to kill my employer, you’re dead wrong!”
I thrashed against his hold but he just laughed. “Who knew ya could be so feisty! I love it.”
Out of the corner of my eye I saw Blitz stand before he side tackled Striker to the ground. The rifle went flying to the floor and as the two struggled, I grabbed it. I aimed it right at the nasty little cowboy. He threw Blitz off of him and stood, fluffing his jacket. “Now darlin’, how about ya just hand that gun on over.”
“Listen, fucker. I don’t know who you think you are but I never want to see you again. You come near his Highness and I swear to Lucifer I will kill you!”
He glanced from me to the rifle, his mind seemed to be made up. “Alrighty, sugar. Ya win. I’ll go, but don’t think this is the last time we see each other.”
With that he ran towards the window and hopped out. I dropped the rifle and helped Blitz pick up his friends, us returning to Stolas. We explained the situation and we thought it best to leave. The owl prince apologized to the crowd for leaving so soon and with that we were off.
The rest of the month went by as it usually would. Striker was nowhere to be seen which was good and life at the palace was steady. It was the start of the next month and nightfall had hit. Everyone was already asleep and I had just put on my baggy t-shirt and shorts. I was just about to crawl into bed when I felt a shiver run down my spine. Something felt off. I looked around my room when suddenly a hand wormed its way around my mouth. I tried to scream and fight my assailant but they held me tight and close. “Shh, shh, darlin’. Don’t fight. We’re goin’ somewhere safe, I promise ya. Just close those pretty eyes fer me.”
I couldn’t breathe, I could hardly move. Eventually I succumbed to the darkness.
When I woke up it was slow. I could feel I was lying on something and my arms were slightly lifted. I groaned and looked over to see Striker sitting in a chair nearby. “Yer finally awake! Took ya long enough.”
I tugged on my arms to sit up but they just stayed put. Looking up I saw they were tied to the bedposts. I kept tugging like the rope would give way and that just made Striker laugh. “Strugglin’ ain’t gonna help, sweetheart. I’m an expert at tying knots.”
He gave a wink and I scoffed. “Why am I even here? You got what you wanted when you robbed me blind. What more could I possibly give you?!”
“Do ya really not recognize me, Y/n?”
Striker stood and took off his hat, his white bangs flopping into his eyes. I shook my head. Suddenly something shiny was thrusted into my face and after staring at it for a few minutes I realized it was my necklace. The heart charm was open to reveal a picture of me and my childhood friend Benjamin from when we were kids. My eyes glanced between the photo and Striker and finally I understood.
Striker was Benjamin.
“B-Ben?”
“That’s right, babydoll. Yer best friend is back.”
“B-But I thought you were killed in the extermination! I, I-”
“I almost was but I escaped with an inch of my life. Holy bullets are helpful sometimes, ya know.”
I couldn’t believe it. It had been ten years since I had last seen my best friend. We had gotten separated when the extermination hit Hell and since then I believed him to be dead. “I wasn’t expecting to see ya that day. I probably would have killed ya but I recognized ya as soon as I saw yer necklace. I can’t believe ya kept it all these years.”
“How could I throw away the only piece of my best friend away? Dammit Benjamin, why didn’t you come find me?”
He growled and slammed his hands on either side of my head. “I did! I went to the orphanage in Wrath and they told me that the Goetias picked you up! The fuckin’ Goetias! Why would ya go with them after everything I told ya?!”
“Because I lost hope, that’s why! I thought I had lost my best friend and I knew it was only time before they killed me! I had no choice!”
He let out a rattlesnake hiss and backed away, his eyes full of venom. “How could ya lose hope? I promised I’d always come fer ya, didn’t I? That’s what the fuckin’ jewelry was for! To show my devotion and love fer ya!”
I paused. “L-love?”
He sighed and pinched the bridge of his snout. “Yes, pumpkin. Love. I was gonna confess but the damn extermination got in the way and the rest is history.”
He glanced up at me before sitting by my side, his tail coming up to caress my cheek. “But now that I have ya, I’m never lettin’ go. Yer never goin’ back to those pompous asses. I won’t allow them to take away everything I cherish again.”
His hands were quick to grab my legs in a death grip. “B-Ben, you’re scaring me.”
“It’s not Ben anymore. It’s Striker.”
He held up my locket and I watched as it twirled in the moonlight of the motel room. “When I gave this to ya I made a promise. And now I’m comin’ to collect. I am a bounty hunter after all.”
With that he leaned forward, and our lips were intertwined.
#yandere#xreader#yandere x reader#x reader#yanderexreader#villain x reader#yandere helluva boss#helluva boss#striker#yandere striker#striker helluva boss#striker x reader
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contains…kissing. fluff. bf!geto. geto is very much in love. no curses / sorcerers. maybe ooc!geto?? drabble. not proofread.
geto’s hand was cold where it cupped your jaw, fingers parting to make room for your ear while his lips moved so graciously against yours. his other hand squeezed the fat of your waist, just gently sliding up and down that small patch on your stomach.
the goosebumps that litter the tops of your skin felt desperate for more. his lips were already sucking you in, spiraling you down the tunnel that was graffitied with nothing but geto written all over the walls. your mind had no other outlet, just glued to the man who laid above you and held you so close. his knee parted your thighs, causing you to wrap your leg and both of your arms around the very man you loved.
“mm, sugu—“ you chide, not trying very hard to push him away.
he knows how to kiss you. he knows it so well that you couldn’t imagine being kissed any other way. he knows when to go slow, to have his lips move against yours so passionately you’ll melt in his hands.
and he knows when to be rougher. cupping your cheek, sure, but the kiss wouldn’t be as slow and sensual— just plain filthy. spit coating your lips, tongue exploring your mouth like it hasn’t before. he likes it messy, usually. but now, he was so gentle it’s like he’s playing with glass.
“sugu—aren’t we supposed to be making dinner?” you laugh, forcing your chin up to pull your lips from his.
you can feel his smile against your throat when he plants a couple kisses.
“mm…yeah. but i jus’ wanted to say hi.” he chuckles, opening his eyes to look up at you.
“you said hi to me when you came over two hours ago.” you snort, looking down the instant you feather your fingers through his loose, black hair. you just love the way it frames his face.
your lips are plump and soft, and he wants to wrap them around his again but he holds back. for a minute, at least.
he slides his arm underneath your waist, in which you slightly arch so he could cup your back a little easier.
“okay, but—“ he drawls, resting his cheek on your collarbone, almost burying his nose in the crook of your neck. “i can’t say hi again? didn’t know there was a limit.”
you roll your eyes playfully, tangling your fingers to keep his head close before you give his strands a slight tug. he raises his chin upon instinct, watching you smile on your own.
“of course you can.” you tease, lifting your head to brush your lips against his. he didn’t waste a second capturing them again—keeping the same loving pace that made your head spin. he knows how to keep you on your toes. he knows how to keep you addicted—almost exactly like how addicted he is with you.
your skin felt so warm against his hands. your lips felt so perfect against his. he doesn’t think he’s ever felt a pair of lips more suited for his then your own—and he doesn’t ever want to feel any other pair.
you let out the softest hum. whether it was a signal to him that you should stop, or even just a sign to keep going, he pulls away to watch your eyes flutter open.
you looked so pretty too. you always do, though. but geto thinks you look prettiest like this.
with your haired sprawled across the couch cushions. your lips flushed from his doing. your eyelashes thick and pupils blown when you look up at him. gaze so loving and saturated. he could almost forget about all of his usual responsibilities, getting lost in your touch.
“okay, okay. we can make dinner.” he lets out a faux groan, pressing his hand to the cushion beside your head to force himself away.
your hand was quicker though, grasping onto the back of his neck and applying pressure so he couldn’t go anywhere.
your eyes flick from each of his sparkling, dark irises, to his perfect, pink lips—glossy from your doing.
“no—no,” you hum, allowing him to fall back into you softly, and tying your fingers through his hair once again.
“dinner can wait.”
#: ̗̀➛ — drabbles <3#i’m so terrible at posting i’m so sorry#i have SO many drafts but i don’t post any </3#getou suguru#jjk#jjk w/o curses#jujutsu kaisen#jjk drabble#jjk drabbles#geto suguru#getou x reader#geto x reader#suguru geto#suguru getou#suguru x reader#suguru x you#suguru x y/n#geto x you#geto x y/n#geto suguru drabble#geto drabble
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I’m pretty sure like all of this got deleted omg I’m going to cry— I wasn’t awake enough to remember if I re-wrote and sent it. Anyways if I didn’t, here’s some new (and some old) ideas I thought up:
Notes: This ended up being MUCH longer than I anticipated, longer than the original. Bro I don’t write this much for characters I know inside and out—
Back: Omg a whole damn book— I should just write you books on AO3 at this point. I didn’t proof read this too well cus I’m tired—
Ho’olheyak really wants a big family because.. Well why not? She’s pretty, you’re cute, why not make more of you? She’s super over protective whenever you’re expecting.. eggs, uh. Pregnant? I can’t tell what’d it be with her. Either way it just makes some primal bit of her click— Her mate, her babies, must protect at any and all costs. She kind of gives off gremlin energy (again I’m going entirely off of her splash art) so I imagine you actually have those kid-harnesses on all your kids (sometimes her too—).
As for the babies head wings(?), absolutely. They have that kind of ugly quality to them at first (wet baby bird) but within a couple of hours they fluff up to become all soft and downy. Their tails are all smooth and a bit soft still (not rough just yet). The kid’s favorite things are when you pet their feathers, which is a given.
(Secret: Ho’olheyak loves when you pet her feathers too). Laying her head on your chest, looking up at you with a sleepy smile. Her favorite way to unwind after her day is to feel your feather-light touch trace over her little wings, pun intended.
Ok now chaos because not everything with this woman can be perfect:
Ok but when autumn comes it’s kind of hell of EVERYONE involved. Everyone with wings is molting, their feathers preparing for the coming winter weather. The kids are itching, Ho’olheyak’s itching, there’s feathers of all colors literally EVERYWHERE, there’s the little dust particles on every surface— You just spent way too much money on gloves so the kids don’t scratch. Everyone is moody, tired, again: itchy. And then comes spring: basically the same thing but ten times worse when they’re shedding the thicker coat. Your water bill for the month was spectacular, you’d used warm water to soothe most of the pinfeathers. Assuming this is a lot of people molting over several WEEKS, combined with drinking, cooking, and bathing… Well. Damn.
And then there’s the tails shedding.. Well, this may be odd but you guys decided to keep all the kids shedded tail skins because you like to see how they grew! They each have a bag with names, AWW THEY USED TO BE SO SMALL 🥺… (God I’m so gay and desperate for a baby— damn hormones—) The first time it happened you panicked so much because the baby got all super lethargic and clingy and just was completely out. Ho’olheyak had to work very hard to reassure you all of this was super normal for her kids. Anyways you got the hang of things after the first kid so the rest were smooth sailing. They just get very sleepy, and sometimes call for you both at night.. (even the older kids, 11+).
Yay, thanks for coming to my ted-talk.
—🪁
I don’t know how OOC this was for her.
I swear to God you have so many problems every time you try to send me an ask- every time you send an ask there's always a little thing before the writing of what happened as you were writing it- you have to be the only one who has this problem hdhahdh /j
You make books every time you send me an ask and honestly- I love them so much! It gives me food of my favorite characters and I'm happy to know that you put time into writing this!!! Like you don't know how many times I reread these since they are so good-
Surprisingly even though you say you have no clue about this character, I think this is pretty accurate!! I legit see her doing this stuff, tho I don't know- I'm not a lore expert but this does send tangalese to my brain every time I read it!!
I swear to God again you're one of the reasons why my baby fever last so long /j
#I love this so much this is such good food-#🪁 anon#☆ kiana's little talks ☽#arknights ho'olheyak#arknights x you#arknights x reader#arknights#arknights ho'olheyak x reader#ho'olheyak x reader#ho'olheyak
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I’m hoping that getting this idea out via headcanons will help keep it at bay for a little while longer. XD Trigun Stampede really grabbed me by the throat with the whole “Knives essentially made a cult for him and Vash, and then with the Freudian womb thing, it’s a sex cult,” so…
(And yet still, even with this concept rife for Plantcest, my love for Legato still won out and Knives became a voyeur instead, XD)
Pairings: Legato/Vash, Knives/Legato
Rating: R18
Tags/Warnings: Dubcon, Ravishment, Sex Pollen, Mating Cycles, Creepy Sex Cult Things, probably OOC
Under the cut!
In July, Vash attempts to strike a deal with Knives: he'll stay with him as long as they can work together to help Plants and humans' coexist.
For plot reasons, Knives okays this, on two conditions: Vash join the Eye of Michael, and Knives' right-hand man, Legato, takes care of him. Attentively.
Vash is too relieved that Knives is even considering this to think of the bigger implications, i.e. why does Knives have a Plant-grafted human on standby? And why is that human so very (very) devoted to them both?
Before he can think things through, he's hustled off to a luxurious-looking wing of Knives' hideout...which is also littered with cameras in places Vash really wishes they weren't. But a deal's a deal, right? He just has to say the right phrases and all will be well, right?
Oh, Vash, you poor sweet summer child...
The first commandment of Millions Knives: the younger Angel is to be treated gently, always.
The second commandment of Millions Knives: the younger Angel is to be wakened by his Head Worshipper with soft caresses and tender words.
The third commandment of Millions Knives: the younger Angel is of unsound mind, and therefore must always be watched over, either by his elder brother or the Head Worshipper.
The fourth commandment of Millions Knives: when the elder Angel "blooms", the younger Angel must be present, and watch his older brother descend upon the blessed Head Worshipper as if he were a throne until the elder's mating instincts are satisfied.
The fifth commandment of Millions Knives: the younger Angel's pleasure must be strung out with great care, without climax if necessary, so as not to shatter his already-fragile mind.
The sixth commandment of Millions Knives: the younger Angel is forbidden to dress himself, nor to wear any (nonlethal if removed) artifact that could shatter this hard-won peace.
The seventh commandment of Millions Knives: when the younger Angel inevitably experiences his first "bloom", it is the Head Worshipper's sacred duty to ensure the younger Angel is attended to until the Head Worshipper or elder Angel deems satisfactory.
...Legato is a devout man who keeps his Master's commandments.
And besides, Vash looks beautiful coated in his own geranium-red pollen, his scarred hips rocking plaintively with Legato's every feathering stroke between his legs.
"Don't be scared, Vash," Master Knives insists through the intercom above their heads. "The first bloom is always the hardest."
Then, firmer, "Legato: savor him with your mouth again, but let him come this time. It's been a long first week, and my baby brother needs to be soothed."
Legato eagerly bends to his task, Vash's cries and nonsensical babbling a hymn to his blessed ears.
#legato x vash#headcanons#trigun stampede#legato bluesummers#vash the stampede#writing#legato x knives#millions knives
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when the sun rises in the west, the gods eyes are drawn. may the seven have mercy upon you as we welcome you to court, lady lihua, princess vaedaria, and lord gavriel ! now a victim of the court, the bards compare your beauty to havana rose liu, milly alcock, ismael cruz córdova as you play the game in the midst of seasoned nobles.
behave and follow the queen's word written in our checklist and submit your account within 24 hours.
࣪𓏲ּ ֶָ 𝑤𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑜𝑠𝒕𝒗 ⁝ havana rose liu, twenty nine, genderfluid, they and them. announcing the arrival of LIHUA of house KARSTARK, the LADY of KARHOLD. whispers among the court name them to be both FAITHFUL and OBSTINATE in disposition, and those closest to them speak to their interests in archery. if we bards could compose a song for them, it might tell stories of a bear’s coat draped beautifully over its hunter’s shoulders , an undisturbed valley of snow blemished by the blood of a doe , the melodious sound of girlish laughter coming from an empty hallway . the seven whisper to their most devout queen as she sleeps, making her question where their loyalties truly lie. are they right to whisper? for their loyalties truly lie with THE NORTH. ( ooc : demon love ) * jaehaera's greatest obsession wc
࣪𓏲ּ ֶָ 𝑤𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑜𝑠𝒕𝒗 ⁝ milly alcock, 24, cis woman, she + her. announcing the arrival of VAEDARIA of house TARGARYEN, the PRINCESS of WESTEROS. whispers among the court name them to be both EFFERVESCENT and AUDACIOUS in disposition, and those closest to them speak to their interests in reading. if we bards could compose a song for them, it might tell stories of dark lashes fluttered against porcelain skin ; text splayed beneath a soft cheek as though it was the finest of feathered down stuffed silk ; fantastical stories depicted in her dreams, fingertips dancing within the heart of a flickering flame ; exploring what it would take to make a dragon born burn, long silver strands those of old valyria ; torn from a princesses braid as the wind whipped at her skin ; the first taste of freedom as she took to the starry skies atop a beast finally unchained ; the world trembling roar the only thing that could drown out the cry of her own jubilation. seven whisper to their most devout queen as she sleeps, making her question where their loyalties truly lie. are they right to whisper? for their loyalties truly lie with THE TARGARYENS. ( ooc : nakita, 28, she + her, mst )
࣪𓏲ּ ֶָ 𝑤𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑜𝑠𝒕𝒗 ⁝ ismael cruz córdova, 36, cis man, he + him. announcing the arrival of GAVRIEL of house FREY, the HEIR of THE TWINS. whispers among the court name them to be both FORMIDABLE and TACITURN in disposition, and those closest to them speak to their interests in swordsmanship. if we bards could compose a song for them, it might tell stories of the reverberation of stone against steel ; sharpening the favoured blade that was always sheathed at his side ; drowning out the ceaseless speeches of betrothals from a ruling lady once revered, the face of a man suited for the horrors of battle rather than politics ; more adept at charging into an army of enemies than twisting words until they sounded like sweet nothings whispered into the ear of a lover, the glint of firelight in narrowed eyes ; calloused fingers working at an unhurried pace - whittling away at a piece of wood until you’re left with that of a beguiling figurine. the seven whisper to their most devout queen as she sleeps, making her question where their loyalties truly lie. are they right to whisper? for their loyalties truly lie with HOUSE FREY. ( ooc : nakita, 28, she + her, mst )
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sidelines chapter 1: white daffodil
summary: (Y/N) is a Marleyan POW, joining Onyankopon and the other Anti-Marleyan Volunteers in their efforts to modernise Paradise. You come to Paradise to share your knowledge of medicine and biology, but find yourself falling for a certain blonde haired, blue eyed Eldian.
(canon universe, canon divergence, marley has modern day technology, some ooc)
next chapter: yellow rose
Taking in a deep breath of the sea air, she smiled to herself. She was excited about her trip to Paradis, it was essentially going back in time. The small island’s technology was hundreds of years behind the modern world. She did worry about having to live without electricity, internet and her phone for a while, but she could deal with that for a few weeks, months even.
Onyankopon, her best friend and essentially her brother from another mother, had secretly made his way back to Marley to bring her a few other Anti-Marleyan Volunteers to help him with modernising Paradis. She was a skilled nurse, having worked in the career for a number of years and spent countless others studying before that. She was lucky that her connection to Zeke afforded her such a luxury; most Marleyan prisoners of war were definitely not so lucky. Onyakopon and she hoped that she could share her knowledge of biology and medicine to improve the healthcare of the island.
She closed her eyes and let the sea breeze hit her face, cooling her body from the sun beating down on her. The spotter shouted that they had sighted landfall, and she squinted her eyes, straining to see the island for herself. Excitement bubbled inside her.
“We’re here!” Onyankopon announced, flashing her a toothy smile.
“Ah, I’m so excited!” (Y/N) exclaimed, jumping up and down on the spot and clapping her hands together. She grabbed her handbag and suitcase, popping her straw hat on her head that was adorned with a pink ribbon and followed Onyankopon off the ship.
“Welcome to Paradis! It’s great to have you all here!” she heard a voice shout enthusiastically. She was greeted by the sight of two people, one, a person with brunette hair lazily thrown back into a ponytail, glasses and an eyepatch adorning their face. The other, a short, pale man with black hair, short with an undercut, parted to one side. They were both dressed in white button up shirts and black trousers, a long, forest green coat thrown on top. She recognised the symbol on the breast pocket immediately, blue and white feathers crossed together to create the image of wings. The Wings of Freedom, Onyankopon had called them when he showed her an image of the logo.
(Y/N) gave the two people a toothy grin, holding her hand out to shake theirs in greeting.
“Pleasure to meet you both! I’m (Y/N L/N).” she said, matching the brunette's enthusiasm.
They both returned her handshake.
“I’m Commander Hange, and this is Captain Levi.” they proclaimed, pointing at the short man next to them. Levi just replied with a quiet grunt.
“We’re very excited to have you here. We can’t wait to learn everything you have to teach us.”
Once everyone had departed the ship, Hange and Levi led them to a horse and carriage, telling them that they would take them to their headquarters in a district called Trost. At first, (Y/N) was enamoured that they’d gone to the trouble to get them a horse and carriage for their journey, it felt so regal! But she soon realised that horse and carriage was the main mode of transport. They didn’t have cars. She almost laughed to herself. What a culture shock this would be.
The journey to Trost was filled with conversations, Hange enthusiastically asking them all sorts of questions and Onyankopon and (Y/N) answering, (Y/N) matching Hange’s enthusiasm. Levi mostly remained silent, quietly observing the conversation. (Y/N) gathered that he wasn’t much of a talker, and that was okay with her.
Although the journey to Trost was a substantial one, the time flew by quickly, filled with conversation and laughter. (Y/N) could tell that her and Hange were going to be good friends, their energy and enthusiasm perfectly mirroring each others.
Upon arriving in Trost, the four of them disembarked the carriage, a small group of people waiting at the entrance of the building to greet them. (Y/N) looked up at the large building of the headquarters, white brick structure accented by turquoise roofing. It was stunning.
“Onyankopon! Good to see you again, buddy.” said a tall man, his mousy brown hair styled into a mullet.
“A pleasure, Jean.” Onyankopon replied, shaking his hand.
He put a hand on (Y/N)’s shoulder, turning to the rest of the group.
“Everyone, this is (Y/N L/N), my close friend and non-biological sister.”
(Y/N) waved at the group, giving them a beaming smile.
“She’s a nurse back in Marley, and one of the best at that. I invited her here with the hopes that she’ll be able to help advance medical technology on the island.”
(Y/N) laughed and swatted his arm when he said she was one of the best nurses. She turned to the group, keeping her bright smile.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you all. I’m really looking forward to working with you!”
One by one, the Scouts stepped up to greet her and shake her hand, introducing themselves. Her breath caught in her throat once her lilac eyes met baby blues, a shining halo of golden hair reflecting the sunlight.
“Armin.” he said, shaking her hand. “Pleasure to meet you.”
She nearly faltered at the sight of him. God, was he handsome. But she quickly grounded herself. “Pleasure’s all mine, Armin.” she replied, giving him a kind smile. She could feel her cheeks heating up from the sun and prayed that it didn’t show on her milky flesh.
Armin was the last of the Scouts to meet her, so he took the opportunity to strike up a conversation, eager to learn more about her.
“So, you’re a nurse. How long have you been in the profession?”
She felt heat burn her skin, her palms becoming clammy. She blamed it on the scorching sun and not the way the blonde man made her feel like he was looking into her soul.
“Oh, about four years. Before that I studied and volunteered for a number of years.” she replied, keeping the same smile on her face. She hoped that he would be able to feel the sincerity radiating from her, paranoid that he might think that she had some alternative, more sinister intentions in visiting Paradis. She fiddled with the ribbon on the collar of her mini dress, butterflies kissing the walls of her stomach. Never had a man made her so flustered, and she felt slightly frustrated with herself over it.
“What compelled you to be a nurse, then?” he enquired, briefly glancing at his comrades greeting the other volunteers.
“Honestly, it’s just my passion. It’s what I excel in the most, taking care of people and helping them heal.” she chuckled. “My mother was also a nurse, and my grandmother, so I guess it runs in the blood too.”
He gave her a warm smile. “Sounds fantastic. I can’t wait to see what you can do to help our humble island.”
She smiled back at him, her chest warming. He seemed so sweet, so gentle and timid. She reminded herself that she shouldn’t get attached.
Onyankopon had told her that he inherited the Collosal Titan, and so she knew already that his days were numbered. Her heart twinged with pity. What a horrible burden to be placed with.
The rest of the afternoon was filled with meetings, the volunteers formally introducing themselves to the Scouts and informing them of their intentions, what skills and information they could share with the island. They had dinner after the formalities, becoming acquainted with each other. (Y/N) especially grew fond of Connie and Sasha in the short amount of time that they spent together, they were hilarious and full of life. Sasha stole a piece of bread from Connie and he scolded her profusely, a small, friendly fight breaking out between the two. (Y/N) laughed until she cried at the pair's display.
After dinner they settled down and chatted over some wine, having retreated into a smaller room, just the group of them; (Y/N), Onyankopon, Eren, Mikasa, Armin, Connie, Sasha and Jean. They told stories of their childhoods and training days, teasing each other playfully. (Y/N) told them about how she got into the medical field, how her mother had influenced her passions before she died. Onyankopon told them stories of his home land, about different myths and legends. They all listened intently, hanging on every word he said. Armin talked about his dream to see the sea, and how it had come to fruition. They all chimed in with him, talking about how enamoured they were with it.
“Oh! Then you’ll love this, Armin.” she grinned. He turned towards her, eyes wide in anticipation over what she was about to tell him. “In different parts of the world at certain times of the year, the ocean waves actually glow blue in the dark!”
“What?!” he exclaimed in shock. The wine had loosened him up, made him more confident in his words, his movements more animated.
“Seriously! From a week up to a month in different parts of the word, algae blooms in the tide. It is bioluminescent, meaning that it produces its own light. When the waves hit the shore and disturb the algae, it glows a bright blue! It’s stunning.”
Armin turned to his friends, shock painting his features. “Did you hear that?!”
Jean laughed, smiling at him. “Armin, I’m sure she’s playing a prank on you. There’s no way that’s real.”
“It’s real!” (Y/N) retorted, pouting slightly, the alcohol making her feel more childish. “I wish I had my phone on me, I could have shown you a photo. The next time I'm in Marley, I’ll find a photo of it and bring it back for you.”
Armin flashed her a toothy grin, excitement swirling in his stomach. He laid back on the sofa, looking up at the ceiling. “Wow, nature sure is amazing.”
(Y/N) laughed at him, how exasperated and amazed he looked. He looked so adorable, a wide smile on his face, his cheeks flushed a pretty petal pink from the alcohol.
“So, where are you from? Your accent is different from any of the other volunteer’s we’ve met so far.” Sasha asked, sipping on her glass of wine.
“Oh, I’m from England. It’s a part of Great Britain, an island made up of four different countries; England, Wales, Scotland and Northern Island.”
“Interesting. Is it very far from here?”
“A bit. It’s just north of here, about five days by boat.”
Onyankopon looked at his watch, then sighed, turning to (Y/N). “Well, we should get to bed. It’s pretty late and we have a long day tomorrow, and I can’t be dealing with you with a hangover.” He grinned, teasing her.
She playfully swatted his arm in response. “Oh please, it was one time! I’m sensible now, I always make sure I drink water before bed.”
Onyankopon laughed and turned his attention back to the Scouts. “God, you guys should have seen her. She was so sick, she was crying out for a priest, insisting that she must have been possessed by a demon to feel so horrible.” The group erupted in laughter at (Y/N)’s expense.
(Y/N) picked up a cushion and swatted his face with it. “Don’t tell them that! God, you’re so embarrassing.”
She stood up and dusted off her dress, grabbing her handbag. “Well, it was great hanging out with all of you. Next time I’ll tell you all about the time Onya got so drunk he threw up all over himself and then blacked out.” she teased, giving the group a wink. It was Onyankopon’s turn to throw a cushion at her.
#my writing#armin x reader#armin x y/n#attack on titan#aot#snk#shingeki no kyojin#ocean prince#sidelines
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ooc. taps mic. good afternoon to morgan. (I SEE EVERYONE FOLLOWING CHROM ON THE MUSPELL PATH AND IM HAPPY OK???? SHEPHERDS AND THEIR LEADER ON THE SAME PATH YEHAW. we dont talk about the defunct avatar for being hel but thats ok they look nice XDDD ) art below if u dont wanna visit x lol morgan will join the gift post i had before when i have time mwahaha
tbh the design is not that impressive imo??? the coat shape is nice but overall ..eh? also the shiny boot?? i hate them for some reason. they just....look like platformer boots XDDD r u suggesting he is short!? how dare. (maybe?) but yeah. feels like just made his original design redish and yep and oh feathers. i will look back at it again to see if artist sneaked something here or there. but i like the gloves so thats one thing.
#[and thats called loyalty#[did u see that robin??? ur kid is better than you smh#[FOLLOW YOUR LEADER IS A DUH MOMENT#[we would like to thank og joiner gaius lonqu and nowi~ <3 mwah mhwa mwahmwah<3
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Heyyyy. I saw your post and...
Can you do some headcannons or drabbles for Farris and Wynne? They are just a recent couple me and @boiling-potato came up with lol so, there naturally isn't much about them. But! If you can, please do! Thank you
Note: This took incredibly long and I'm so sorry <,33 So I hope you'll like this and I really love the ship!! Also, I apologise in advance if the characters are not on point :,)) I feel as if they are OOC--
Characters: Wynne Toprak (@hanawrites404 Oc), Farris Victor Hammond (@boiling-potato Oc)
Event Type: Headcanons
->Cuddling - Rare and almost never happens!...only when Wynne is asleep of course. Farris handles affection differently from others, choosing instead to be softer and more affectionate when Wynne is unknown to his oddly gentle touches. His feather like touches that grazes her waist before he pulls her closer to him, her back to his chest, holding her close to him.
->In his more softer and tired moods, Farris will have Wynne in his embrace, staring down at her with adoration in his eyes, one hand gently running through her hair and brushing back stray hair that falls infront of her face. And the other arm is draped losely around her waist, while she holds his face in her palms, smiling up at him.
->Farris has a habit of holding Wynne's hand in his, slowly lifting it to his lips and placing a soft kiss. Both always ends up flustered no matter how many times this daily routine occurs.
->Wynne almost never have to open a door herself with Farris around, he'd hold it open but never makes eye-contact with her for some reason. Flustered? Maybe, but he'll never admit it, but Wynne will almost certainly spot the red tint at the tip of his ears.
->Wynne holding his hand whenever he gets irritated/annoyed with something. Almost as if it's a spell, all of the tension in Farris's body is melted away and replaced with warmth spreading throughout him. Wynne always finds a way to calm him down <3
Cheek/forehead kisses whenever he leaves the room.
"I'll go get ready and then we can leave soon." Farris spoke, his tone velvety and smooth as always, standing up straight and smoothing out his coat. Wynne hummed in response, looking at him knowingly as he strides towards her, leaning down to place a kiss on her forehead before leaving the room. Wynne could only feel a tug on the corners of her lips as she feels her face heating up.
->Farris writes letters to Wynne whenever he has to leave for long periods of time.
->Wynne pulling him in for a kiss and him being tense and flustered initially before he scrambles to place his hands on her waist, wrapping himself around her. When she parts, Farris will instantly pull her closer to him, lifting her chin up gently before capturing her in another endearing kiss.
->SLEEPY KISSES!! Wynne pressing kisses to his cheeks while Farris grumbles at how soft and fuzzy everything feels. He'll mumble a string of incoherent words as he places soft kisses down her neck before falling asleep to the sound of her humming.
->Both falling asleep to the sound of each other's heart beats <,33
->Farris teases Wynne for her messy hair in the mornings but then proceeds to run his fingers through her hair gently to comb it out the best he can.
"You're staring." "And you're perfect."
->Slow dancing!! With soothing and classical music in the background, Farris guides Wynne to follow his steps, one arm secured around her waist to ensure she doesn't fall while Wynne has her hands on his shoulder. With the two locking eyes and smiling, swaying their hips to the music and basking in the presence of each other.
->Farris rarely calling her anything but her name but sometimes some small nicknames will eventually slip out;
"I'll be leaving to attend to something, I'll be back around noon."
"Alright, stay safe!"
"I will, darling."
->A smile tugging at his lips whenever he sees her doing anything mundane. Then he looks away immediately when she catches him.
->Wynne being carried bridal style by Farris :,))♡
#ForMoots#MootsOCs#Wynne Toprak#Farris Victor Hammond#Farris x Wynne#Writing#Ship#Aesopsbaby drabbles event#event#FFO
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[From Aya] One Pro AND One Con
✚✚✚ ooc — @bucketfullofocs
pros and cons
I am shamelessly cheating and going with a dual answer, for what some perceive as benefits, others will understand as annoyances.
Law likes to express his fondness — and dominance, if we are being honest — through non-verbal displays of affection, even when in company, and while maintaining some arrangements well within the sphere of private life. Such is the case of kissing and embracing. Beyond that, his affection can be seen in small courtesies he will not extend to anyone else but his sweetheart. The draping of his coat over trembling shoulders and arm's hairs on edge. The lending of a hand to climb up an obstacle that stands in the way or to descend from a perilous height with more reassurance. The gentle pull by the hip to bring his sweetheart closer to his body for comfort, his included. These are gestures I expect most would see as pros, particularly when coming from someone whose gentleness is usually kept under lock and key, to be seen only by the worthy few.
On the other hand, however, which is to say a con as reckoned by some, is that Law's sensorial idiosyncrasy extends to an amplified need for touch. Hardly surprising, considering he's too much at ease to touch others (while simultaneously disliking being touched in return), whether he likes them or not, often to be a nuisance. Aya might present a complaint here, as she calls back to a time (a couple of times?) Law has licked her cheek to ruffle her feathers. It is impolite, a physical cue to go along with his uncouthness.
With a sweetheart, this might mean the brushing of his nose against the nape of their neck as a clue to a craving for a temporary recess from the world. It might mean an arbitrary peck over their hair, a gesture that is fine to display before a certain audience. Frequently, it means using his hands over his nose or mouth, which might become bothersome with ease. He likes to repose his hand on the small of his significant other's back as if for a lack of another place for it to rest, a prerogative that used to be his sword's. For sure a malleable and warm body makes for a better perch. He likes to finger-comb through their hair and tuck it behind their ears if of an appropriate length, even if it was not in eyesight's way. His sweetheart might read this endearment for a surplus of physical contact, and indeed hate having their hair touched if they spent a while working on it, or if it has a tendency to tangle or grease.
If anything, the way he nurses and grooms Mors is a good indicator of how Law might act in the role of boyfriend.
#bucketfullofocs#✚ | ❝ the devil's got a hold on my soul and he just won't let me be ❞ { ooc }#✚ | ❝ branded a leper because you don't fit / in the land of the free you just live by your wits ❞ { headcanons }#i could elaborate more on this but i think this ask's at a good length#i don't mind elaborating if asked though
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the holidays are wrapped,
but the countdown is just beginning.
new years eve arrives once again. unfortunately this year there are few venues still capable of currently opening their doors as a result of the recent string of attacks associated with the war. luckily, ACID NIGHTCLUB managed to ensure that all safety limitations in regard to occupancy will be ignored for the evening thanks to a generous bribe in the right hands.
everyone is welcome to join in on this party.
a pajama party, that is. that’s right, everyone is expected to turn up in their bedtime best to get through the door.
the upper level of the club is stuffed with floating and falling feathers, plush animals, and puffy, cloud-like pillows which fill every spare corner of the heaven portion of the venue in order to give perfect credence to that name.
the main floor has been transformed into sleepover game central. the coat check hosts seven minutes, the stage bares spin the bottle, and the bar is giving out truth or dare with each shot.
the lowest level sports the majority of the live musical performances for the evening. however, the entire floor is cast in darkness with the exception of the nightlights you can pick up before heading down. color changing glow sticks that are enchanted in time with the music.
each room has a dazzling countdown to midnight ticking away on the ceiling. find the place you party best and see where the night takes you! have fun.
OOC NOTES
another classic acid party, and everyone muggle or magic is invited so long as they’re wearing pajamas for the night. the club is notably more full than usual in an effort to cater towards those who would be visiting one of the clubs forced to close this year. feel free to share the pajamas that your character has decided to wear for the night! please keep all in character interactions before midnight at this time. please do not place any threads after midnight at this point. thank you and enjoy closing out this year with us!
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Burilda atleast took off her FEATHER coat, like jeeezz Louise without the heatwave that thing would be killer!
[ooc: good god yeah]
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Welcome to New York [GABRIELLA LOPEZ]. We hope you are finding everything okay because we know that this city can be difficult to explore. We heard that you are a/an [FORTY-TWO] year old who is a/an [TRAUMA SURGEON] and identifies as [SHE/HER], is that true? If so it totally makes sense since people would associate [SCRUBS, LONG HOURS, BLOOD and TEARS] with you. You’ve been here since [THIRTY YEARS] and nobody has told you that you look exactly like [LANA PARRILLA]?!
ooc; aj, 33, est, she/they, none
(tw: cancer, death)
BASICS:
full name: Gabriella Rita Lopez
nicknames: Gabby, Ella
age: 42
dob: July 15
hometown: San Juan, Puerto Rico
current location: New York, NY
neighborhood: Cole Valley
occupation: Neurosurgeon
gender: Female
sexuality: Bisexual
relationship status: Single
theme song: Look What You Made Me Do - Taylor Swift
PHYSICAL APPEARANCE:
face claim: Lana Parrilla
hair color: Black
eye color: Dark Brown
height: 5′5
weight: 128lbs
build: Slender
tattoos: Feather Tattoo; Right Wrist
piercings: Ears
FAMILY:
Mother: Rita Lopez; Deceased
Father: Juan Lopez
Siblings: One Brother & One Sister
Children: One Son; Antonio Lopez
Pet(s): Flat-Coated Retriever; Willow
Significant Relationship(s): Antonio's father & her first love
BIOGRAPHY: (tw: cancer, death)
Gabriella Lopez was born in San Juan, Puerto Rico but her parents moved from Puerto Rico when she was eight years old due to drugs starting to move throughout the city more. So, they packed up Isabella and her siblings and moved to New York, NY for a fresh start and a better life.
They wanted their children to have the best chance possible and they knew staying in Puerto Rico wouldn’t have given them that chance. Isabella looked out for her siblings with being the eldest that was her job. They all soon learned English and started to fit in more with the locals who seemed to be welcoming. Her father got a job at the local supermarket while her mother worked at the local flower shop. They didn’t make much, but they all had each other.
In school, Gabriella was a smart kid always going doing her best to get good grades, but she always helped her siblings whenever her parents weren’t around. During the times that her parents had to work late, Gabriella learned how to cook. From there it became her passion, not only could she cook American food but Mexican food as well and her parents were proud. Even though they felt bad that Isabella had to step up whenever they worked late. Her father ended up taking on another job, at a local coffee shop this way her mother could be home.
During high school, Gabriella mainly focused on her studies, and she didn’t really care much for sports and stuff like that. During that time things got rough for the family, her mother got sick. They were in and out of the hospital, turned out that she had stage four brain cancer and after a year she lost that battle. That was when Isabella started focusing on medicine, she wanted to help as much as possible. So, she did the best that she could to pay attention in school and get amazing grades still while helping her siblings as well. Her boyfriend at the time broke up when Isabella got a scholarship to the University of Harvard, they didn’t want to do the long-distance thing, so they ended things on good terms.
While in college, she focused on her grades but naturally she did party like any college student would that was mainly because of her roommate, but she still graduated with good grades. To her friends and family’s surprise she decided to get her medical degree. She loved it and missed helping her siblings with their homework and such. After she got her degree, she ended up up in Boston at first. That was when she met her boyfriend at the time, and it seemed like everything was going right. She kept in touch with her family and seen them as much as she could and supported her siblings. Sometimes she felt more like a mother to them.
Soon things would change, although she thought her boyfriend and her would be together for the rest of their lives, but she got pregnant at the age of twenty-nine and he just left before her son was even born. She ended up coming home to New York, her siblings helped her whenever they could and she has been back home ever since just raising her son and living her best life that she can.
Wanted Connections:
Baby Daddy: Her son’s father, he left before their son was even born. And now he is back and trying but Gabriella feels unsure. (This will be made into a wanted connection on the main)
Drinking Buddies: Someone she has a drink with every once and again. This person would be like her drinking buddy once maybe twice a week.
Someone who is like a father to her son: This person is a friend that Isabella trust with her son and her son looks up to him and they also look out for him and teach him the stuff that he needs to know.
Mom & Dad Friends: Basically anyone with kids, so friends with kids.
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thinking about how much of esme’s captain aesthetic is seriously based off of hook.
#what if we had a captain with long curly black hair .. and a red coat ... and a hat with a big feather ... and they also had a quick temper#✘; I HAVE SEVENTY TWO EXAMS AND I HAVE NOT STUDIED FOR ONE ( ooc )#ann and her love of captain hook is frankly unparalleled.#tbh it makes a lot of sense for esme to have been influenced by him if he was don rafael's friend and like ... part of the universe#but it's so funny to me
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