#Voice to the afterlife is now on air | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ryomens-vixen · 8 months

Text

GrievingSukuna! HEADCANONS

Summary: You passed away from an incurable illness that plagued you almost your entire life, and even as his favorite concubine, his most cherished, hell his only one left since he had disposed of the rest. The one thing he liked, that her genuinely cherished was now withering away in his arms.

⚠Warning⚠ Minors dni, mentions of death, Sadness, idk what else to put.

GrievingSukuna! Who has never once said "I love you" to anyone not even you. The thought of those words ever leaving his lips made him want to gag except right those words meant everything.

GrievingSukuna! Who listened to your frail voice reassure him that your time spent with him was a joyous one, and that your were just another concubine, that he shouldn't mourn the life of someone who was merely brought to his temple over a year ago for his enjoyment alone.

GrievingSukuna! Who silenced you with the most tender, loving, heart stopping kiss to ever grace your soft yet dry lips as he just could not bare to hear another word. You chipped away of his walls, held his cold heart in your warm hand, and yet you had the nerve to utter nonsense? You had become his pride, the air he breathes, almost his wife, and possibly the barrer of his supposed heir.

GrievingSukuna! Who listened to you final goodbye to him after one last kiss to which he finally spoke those three words...

"Oh, Lord Ryomen, Serving you was..was the best thing that life could have ever given me. Every moment I spent serving you.. I spent without regret, my only regret now is being too weak to serve you any longer. What kind of concubine am I? Heh, forgive me..please forgive me, I- I-..."

You had spent all your energy speaking this blasphemy to him. If he could he would have scolded you right then and there, but there was no time that. All he could was catch your fallen hand that reached for him in an attempt to hold him one more time. You didn't have enough energy left to finish your sentence yet he finished it for you in those last moments he uttered for the first and final time.

"I Love You, (Y/N)... You foolish woman."

He said it, he finally said it, those words from him you would carry into the afterlife with you, A tear fell from your beautiful (E/C) eyes. But these words were only meant for your ears, not even his servant that stood outside his chambers could hear him whispering those three words into your delicate ears.

GrievingSukuna! Who's world came crashing down once your chest rose and fell taking your last breath. Oh the heinous things he would do, the sacrifices he would make, the blood he would give to just hear your sweet voice once more. This hurt him, this pain.. It petrified him, it was like no pain he had ever felt before.

GrievingSukuna! Who after hours of holding your cold corpse, finally allowed his servents to come in and ready you for burial. His face was unreadable to them, but on the inside he was ready to explode with rage, he was ready to curse the heavens and hell for taking what was his away.

GrievingSukuna! Who stayed locked away in his chambers for the next few days leading up to your burial. Oh how you wounded him worse than any man or woman ever could. This wound wasn't something he could just easily no, no, this wound would forever be etched into his mind, body, and soul for as long as he lived.

GrievingSukuna! Who's face remained unreadable during the ceremony, you had no family to join him, just his loyal servents who had grew quite fond of you once upon a time.

GrievingSukuna! Who quickly storm away once your casket was lowered into the ground, he felt his eyes were burning... What was this? Tears!? Never in the beginning of time would Sukuna ever shed a pathetic tear, but he heart could not deny the human emotions that came with once being human. He wouldn't dare let anyone see such an ugly sight, him experiencing sadness.

GrievingSukuna! Who's sadness was quickly replaced with pure, unadulterated rage, every village in 100...No a thousand mile radius was fucked. If he couldn't have the one thing he cherished more than anything in the world then why should everyone else?

GrievingSukuna! Who would go days without returning to his temple until he's had his fill of bloodshed, maybe this was his new found way of coping with the loss of his concubine?

GrievingSukuna! After days of slaughter he would return home to your grave absolutely drenched from head to toe in the blood of the innocent and lay at your grave.

GrievingSukuna! Who would stay at you grave for hours, cursing you to the heavens for leaving him in disarray, for not ripping his heart out his chest to take with you so he wouldn't have to FEEL this pain any longer.

GrievingSukuna! Who would soon slaughter all that were loyal to him as he would rather live in solitude, then to be reminded that he has no one to share the servitude of his people with. Sukuna would rather be alone than to enjoy the finer things without you by his side.

#jujutsu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x you #sukuna fluff #jjk fanfic #jjk drabbles #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #sukuna angst

1K notes · View notes

leviathanspain · 1 year

Text

his embrace

finnick odair x reader

synopsis: finnick odair, capitol sweetheart and the thorn in your side

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

standing on the plate, you nearly broke your neck looking for him. frantically you looked, your eyes straining to see across the water, it was no use as the timer went off, and you had forced yourself to dive into the water.

your lungs felt like the could burst, but you ran towards the cornucopia, lifting yourself just over the edge only to be pulled back into the water. a career tribute was on you, you could tell as you fought him in the water. but you were losing, as you weren’t able to catch your breathe before you had been pulled back in.

only did the sight of a knife though the career’s chest did you feel some relief. someone had saved you. your body relaxed slightly, and your chest stopped trying to fight for the oxygen, and your eyes closed, your body feeling heavy as you passed out.

the buzzing of arguing flooded your ears. water had them plugged, and as you sat up, coughing up water, you heard the arguments cease, as other tributes rushed to your aid.

finnick was the first you saw, and he grabbed your shoulder, patting your back as you tried to spit out all the water.

you took a good inhale of the air and realized that you were deep in the jungle. along with finnick was katniss and peeta.

without saying anything, you embraced finnick. finnick laughed, hugging you tightly.

you pulled back and kissed him, “i thought i was dead. no one this pretty would be in my version of the afterlife.”

finnick laughed, “you wound me, darling.”

katniss and peeta shared a look, but stayed silent. suddenly the reasonings for why finnick had argued with them to keep you alive was now ever so obvious.

you looked at them, almost forgetting they were there. “katniss, peeta. normally my greeting wouldn’t be so half assed but, then again i’m not normally fighting for my life.” you offered a smile and only peeta gave back a weak one.

days and events had passed by you, and you were getting more and more irritated with your situation. you didn’t think that you would end up arguing with finnick over your safety, after offering to head into the jungle for some wood to build a fire.

“i can do it, finnick.” you rolled your eyes, hoping that he would relent as he usually did. but he wasn’t going to this time, especially with such danger all around.

“no. i alreayd lost mags, i cant lose you.”he shook his head, and you rolled your eyes, “finnick, do i have to remind you that i’m not entirely defenseless? i won my games too.”

but finnick wasn’t budging, and instead he pulled you back towards katniss and peeta, “i said no. im not letting you go in there.”

“if you’re jealous that i’m the one with a cool nickname just say so, don’t start acting like some sort of keeper.” you grabbed one of the knifes he had lying around on the beach and moved into the jungle, “don’t wait up.” you called.

finnick had followed you in, but you had mastered silent footsteps, and you were hard to track.

as you ventured deeper into the jungle, you felt regret in your stomach as you thought about finnick. you had disregarded his comment about mags, and you felt like an asshole.

you stopped, and thought about going back. but you had already left, and you couldn’t go back empty handed. but the screams are what sent you into a run. his screams, your name in the screams had you screaming back.

“y/n! help me!” his voice was on your ears and you ran, “finnick? finnick where are you?” as you tried to run back to camp, you heard birds wings flapping, and you realized that it was jabberjays, and as you swung your knife around to get them to stop, all you could do was listen to the rest of his screams, his mixed in with your families screams.

finnick had heard you scream, and realized he was a lot closer than he thought. you were crying, sobs recognizable as he ran, seeing you cursed up in a ball with a group of birds flying over you.

he realized as your screams intensified what they were. he pulled you up to your feet and practically picked you up, running with you back to the beach.

as he ran, you clutched onto him, crying and muttering apologies, he set you down just a few feet away from katniss and peeta, “stop. it’s not your fault. it’s okay, see? im fine, i’m right here baby.” he kissed you, and finally you calmed down, nodding as tears fell from your eyes.

“oh, finn.” you hugged him, “that was so stupid. im sorry, i promise i won’t do that again. i won’t leave you again, finnick.” you reassured, and hugged him, just as katniss and peeta neared the two of you, questions about your well-being buzzed in your ears.

#finnick imagine #finnick odair smut #finnick odair #finnick odair oneshots #finnick x you #finnick x reader #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair fluff #finnick odair angst

5K notes · View notes

jazjelspen · 3 months

Text

scarlet and silver lining (part 1)

(alastor w/ daughter reader)

(fem reader/notproofread!/apologies for anything ooc qwq/apologies for the pacing as well!!!! It’s 1AM LMAO—)

[chapter 1]

Sure, you didn’t actually want to redeem yourself.

Personally, you knew you were in the right place and were meant to be in this spot in the afterlife. You weren’t bloodthirsty and power hungry like the rest of the monsters down here but your sins were from your reckless decisions and you knew you couldn’t take it back.

So in turn, you didn’t truly trust the princess’s claims and theories.

But here you were, in her hotel through her doorstep. Dragging you along by your wrist being gentle but also filled with such excitement that she might’ve tugged a bit too hard for your preference.

As she led you to introduce yourself to the other residents and staff, you couldn’t help but wonder why exactly you let yourself get into this predicament.

Then again, you didn’t really have a choice.

_______________________________

Your hands stopped from fixing your hair, you had been stunned from preparing yourself for the next twenty minutes you’d be on air. Your face contorting while your eyes stared dead at your reflection at the mirror decorated with bright little light bulbs all around it’s frame as they shined their lights on you. Your hands shaking slightly and barley starting to sweat.

Why exactly were you shocked? Your boss.

“See here ____, what I need you to do is to simply get in through inside the princess’s little hotel and spy for me for a few weeks here and there! Document everything for me, whichever way you can. “

Vox, your boss, was ordering you on a new mission for you to do. He wouldn’t have you do these kinds of things regularly unless he needed some kind of spy or a pretty face for a segment of his show to get more ratings or as a distraction of sorts. Although lately he’s been sounding more aggravated, annoyed—dying to get what he wants. He was facing the set his crew were preparing as they fixed a few lights, checked if the cameras were functioning, etc.

It was good that he was facing that way and you the other, for if he saw your look of shock and slight fear spreading across your face like a disease he would probably question you like some kind of unruly detective for it.

But why wouldn’t you react this way? After all, he was asking you to spy and be around your father. The man you were ashamed of being connected to. He didn’t know this— he didn’t have to know this. For you knew Vox would simply use and wear you out as a pawn, overwork you, maybe torture you and hurt you to get specific answers.

He wasn’t afraid of doing anything to get what he wants anyway.

“Tape recorder, journal, write it on some fucking menstrual pad I don’t fucking care. I simply need to know what that fucker is thinking of doing next with Lucifer’s daughter now on his fucking shoulder.”

He snapped, static overtaking his voice at the end of his sentences. Clearly absolutely finished with this entire situation especially since for all you knew the last time someone tried to sneak in for him they were caught in the matter of a day, and if you didn’t have a direct connection to Vox he would’ve sent you first.. but now you were one of his only options until he really got frustrated.

“Oh but do this for me and you’ll get your own little studio! Your own show! Be your own boss, have your own crew.. you get the idea. All financially supported by me! Oh and you even get to live by yourself.. although—

I still own you. Get that. But you get your little artistic freedom huh sweetheart? What do you say? Do this little favor for me? If you don’t I’ll simply.. kill you.

Or throw you in the streets. Depending on how badly you fuck up you’ll get either one of the two! You’ll die either way.”

You were left a bit shocked, the immense dump of information overwhelming you so. “I—I—“

“Good.” He cut you off.. geez. “You start in two days, two days to get what you need and to at least plan how you’ll keep me updated. And remember, you give me all the information either throughout your stay there or you spit it all out when I need you to still be here on the job.” He fixed his bow tie walking towards the set to start the broadcast, a strong frown decorating his screen before hiding his stress with a cocky smile for the cameras.

You looked at your reflection with a grim look on your face, heart sinking and a shaky sigh escaped.

You didn’t want to see him again. You couldn’t.. you— wouldn’t.

But you needed to do it whether you liked it or not. You knew this.

Survive, get a few more perks and bonuses that would very much make you live your afterlife a bit more comfortably.

It’s just gonna be a month right?— Fuck.. Vox didn’t specify how long simply just… a few weeks. Most likely he just wants you to be there as long as you could.

Keep your life, get a better job, better home home, stay protected. That’s what you’ve been focusing for all these years—

Why stop now.

____________________________________

Dragged by the princess you were stopped in front of a group of sinners, your other hand almost losing its grip on your suitcase but managed to catch it by the tips of your fingers. The sweat from the anxiety that was accumulating while on your way here.

It weirded you out a bit that Charlie didn’t react to your drenched hand. maybe she was too overwhelmed with emotions as well to notice?…

Charlie set you in front of a pink spider, someone you knew all too well from the constant advertisements, short interactions with him, and Valentino’s undying yapping, Angel Dust.

“Angel, meet ____, _____ meet Angel!! She’s going to stay here for a chance at redemptiooon!! How amazing!” Her excitement was pouring out like thunder and lightening, just simply uncontainable.

The pink soul darted its eyes at you with a sense of familiarity. You knew being a known figure would be a bit of a challenge but god— you really wanted that place to yourself.

“Heyy.. Angel..” you waved a little sheepishly, knowing how awkward this feels for you at least.

Angel eyed you a bit intensely, but you knew deep down he sorta understood why you’d be here as well— at least not knowing that Vox himself sent you here—maybe he thinks that your presence is due to the same reason he’s away from Valentino. Needing an escape from your abusers and bosses was something he understood all too well.

“Hiya cutie, didn’t expect to see you here of all places.” He smirked as he waved back at you but in a more confident and laid back way than you did.

Charlie paused at his words, “Oh? You two know eachother?—“

“Oh.. I know this adorable face anywhere!” Angel exclaimed proudly with one of his arms reaching over to squish one of your cheeks playfully, you laughing a bit due to the slight awkwardness of the situation but also because he was one of the very few people you never had issues with despite how much you guys never really talked much.

“She’s a real darling, hard worker and all. Although.. didn’t think your boss was that bad as to make you want to run in here of all places..”

“I was about to say— aren’t you that chick that is on TV for that one overlord’s show or somethin’…” a low and almost growly voice spoke from slightly farther away.

Looking towards that particular direction you are met with a cat-like person, a furry soul with fluffy ears and a seemingly insatiable thirst for alcohol the way he drank down a large bottle of cheap booze like water.

Your shoulders raised up a bit in embarrassment, smiling as a way to cover up your nervousness that was already slipping.

“Didn’t we also literally catch Pentious trying to work for him literally not that long ago?.. At this point they aren’t even trying to hide it by sending her here.” Spoke another, this time a more serious female voice descended from a mature woman with long silver hair and an ‘X’ over her eye that resembled those of the exorcists.. huh.

You shook your hands together a bit as you tried to defend yourself in a way, not wanting to be caught this easily “Oh nonono!.. I’m not here because my boss sent me I— I just..—“

“Yknow what Vagina,” Angel interrupted you to glare at the woman that spoke “If you knew anything about how the V’s treat their employees you wouldn’t blame her and I for wanting to be away from them and anything work related.. got it toots?”

Your heart warmed slightly but also let out a huge sigh of relief. Maybe that wasn’t the real reason why you were here but you were glad to know that Angel was someone you could relate the most due to your very similar situations.

“Yea Vaggie! Let’s give her a chance! If Angel knows her and if we make sure she’s here for reals then she’s a perfect second official resident!!”

The girl, now named Vaggie by Charlie, rolls her eyes as she lets out a sigh. “Can we at least check if she has no electronics on her. If this turns out to be another Pentious I will not hesitate this time.”

A single glare from her one eye piercing you with a sharp and merciless spike. Making you feel even more nervous and unwelcomed but.. you knew you had to just keep going..

“Oh Vaggie no need to be so rude to our new guest! We can do those checks later! Right now it’s introduction time!!” She exclaimed almost jumping up a down, a bit too joyous for your liking.

Angel noticed this and side eyed you while whispering a cheeky comment to you “Ms. Rainbow pants here may be a bit much but you’ll get used to it sweetcheeks.” He said, with a tone more sounding of an older brother of sorts.

You smiled a bit at him but then looked away to try to relax, not excited to be ‘introduced’ to someone you knew was in the far.. far corner of it all.

“Oh and this is Vaggie! My girlfriend and manager of this establishment! If you have any issues or concerns you may check in with her, she’s a-ma-zing!” Despite making her sound helpful and less.. terrifying. You couldn’t help but still feel rather intimidated.

Vaggie continued to glare at you with a clear distrust in you. You just waved at her shyly as well, trying to at least not seem as dangerous as she may think you are.

Until Charlie once again dragged you to four other figures, the fourth one a bit behind the first three. “And this is Husk the bartender, Nifty our housekeeper and cook, and Sir Pentious! Pentious being one of our first official residents!”

She spoke each name by pointing to which name belonged to who, Pentious’s name ringing a bell but it was new seeing his appearance. So this is the guy that forced Vox to drag you here instead..

Husk, the cat that spoke earlier simply looked at you and didn’t give another word, downing yet another bottle. Pentious waved at you with the same energy you gave as well but was more or less focused on his ‘eggs’ that were poking at the flesh around his eyes on his tail and Nifty.. well..

She was on top of you, more specifically— your head.

She was sniffing you, eying you like a fucking hawk, inspecting you as if you could be contaminated with a dying virus— your breath hitched as you hoped she wouldn’t smell the fear growing on you as your skin went cold.

“Fairly.. clean….” She then backed up slightly to inspect your eyes with her own giant one only to then scurry off across your body like a bug, causing you to get disgusting goosebumps.

“Pretty.. smells nice.. no dirt—“ she then stopped by suddenly standing in front of you with a big ol’ smile as if what she just did was incredibly normal.

“Hiya! I’m Nifty! Had to make sure you weren’t bringing any filth in the hotel.. I just cleaned this place…” She took out her little hand for you to shake.. being hesitant but not willing to be rude to someone this peculiar— you shook her hand with just two of your fingers and before you could pull away yourself she then immediately scurried off as fast as she came.

“And then last but not least—“

“Alastor! Quite a pleasure, a real pleasure to get to meet you young lady! Please, feel free to be welcomed into the Hazbin Hotel!” Alastor, the radio demon, dad— approached you with such enthusiasm and enticement. As if he couldn’t wait to talk to you.

Your blood ran cold, eyes widened with fear, your free hand clutched tightly at the handle of your luggage as Alastor took the other to then put it up to where his smile was, not kissing it or having your hand too near his lips but still keeping courtesy of when meeting a woman as he usually would.

Even in death, he stays a gentleman as per usual.

“My my.. you poor soul. To have to run away from your employer down to this place.. why he must be a terrible person, isn’t he?”

Ah right.. Vox and Alastor hated eachother. You knew this very well.. you honestly didn’t know much about why they hated eachother other than the running joke that Vox most definitely lost a fight with him.

You died years later after Alastor did so you don’t exactly have the full scoop. Him dying in your late teens and you dying in your mid to almost late 20s. You lived life yet— some would say not enough.

“Poor thing, not to worry! Let this be your safe house! Your haven, your asylum, your refuge!” He exclaimed each two sets of words by twirling you around in an exaggerated manner, in a style reminiscent of the way dancers would spin their dance partners in the 30s. You recognized this move all too well— feeling almost nostalgic.

Although you were slightly grateful for one thing he was doing right.. not being overly revealing or announcing the one big fact you two had between the both of you.

You didn’t need that fact to be running around the place like some kind of daily gossip.

Before your anxiety would make you burst in crying or throwing up right in his face you immediately tugged your hand away, his own keeping your wrist in his palm.

“Thank.. you—“ your hand holding the luggage let go to try to tug his hand from holding you any longer until you then finally managed to pull his grip away from off of your other wrist in order to create more space between him and you from the immense anxiety you were having, your lungs threatening not to quicken and burst like balloons. You immediately went back to hold onto your luggage once more.

“How.. welcoming..” you pretended as if you were dusting off your clothes and your arms as if trying to tidy yourself up instead it really meant to give you a few more seconds to collect your thoughts properly.

‘God.. everyone knowing I’m with Vox is only going to make this real fucking hard— I didn’t think this entirely fucking through..’ ah yes.. you totallyyy weren’t panicking about this now active interaction the past two days huh—

‘just act calm and cool _____, you need that money, you need that place, you need that show, you need protection.. stick to the plan..’

“Uh— how humble!.. of your Hotel staff to be so.. welcoming— your highness.” You spoke to Charlie, smiling brightly as if all of this was just casual conversation.

“A real treat seeing dear ol’ Angel Dust here, good to see a familiar face ain’t it Angie?” You turned slightly towards the pornstar, with him returning your comment by exclaiming with a “Damn right!”

Charlie smiled intensely with a nod, face full of joy and innocence. “I’m so sososo glad you like it here so far!! Your experience here won’t be disappointing! You’ll have an absolute blast!—

oh oh!! Can’t forget! We have to get you to your room! If you’d like you can stay there and rest or come down here and join us! Whichever you feel comfortable with.”

“Why thank you very much your highness, your hospitality sure is a darn nice breath of fresh air compared to the rest of hell. Bunch of cats and dogs fighting like wild animals out there.. need a real break once in awhile..” you spoke as you followed Charlie as she lead the way to your room, giving you a minor tour of the hotel before letting you rest in your new humble abode.

Your act, although part sincere and true, was full of holes. Holes not enough for the normal gaze to see but they are clear enough for him to see.

Alastor would eye you as you followed the princess, his fingers uncurling and curling around his staff slowly and menacingly. His sharp pupils narrowing while aligning with his grin as it expanded with a sense of mischief holding it up by its ends.

He saw right through you, of course he would, he knows when you lie, know when you’re honest, when you’re afraid and happy.

Why lie to him my dear? If you know that he knows you like the back of his hand.

Either way he knows he’s going to have to catch you alone at some point, he must catch up to what he’s missed throughout the years he’s been gone from the living world and even in hell.. although you made it clear the last time you met in hell that you don’t want to see him again he finds it curious how you’re even here at all.

Oh but.. gosh.. how much his little girl has grown.

_________________________________

You were a two months from turning 7 years old now, being adopted almost a year ago was the most prolific moment in your young life. Your grandmother, her real name being Adelaide but you preferred to call her Nana or Grandmama… Nana was better for your little voice to stretch out more easily and faster.

She was always such a darling to you, treating you as if you were one of her own. She told you true most amazing and beautiful stories, shared and sang the most wonderful lullabies and songs that sometimes Alastor would join in on, would make delicious food that you adored throughout your childhood, love you unconditionally the way a grandmother would.

And technically you were hers through papers but sometimes it felt as if it was inconsistent in certain areas.. mostly with Alastor.

Alastor was a peculiar man, as famous and passionate as he was he certainly didn’t have a heart of gold, only open to those he truly cares for like his mother and his radio show. It was as if his heart was surrounded from the sky to the depth of the ground with rusty fences and sharped barbed wire that only allowed very few people and things being let into his life.

You tried to get close to him around this time, bringing him little gifts you made and trinkets you’d find that reminded you of him as a way to get closer.

But he always just smiled at you, gave you a pat, and either said ‘good job’, ‘oh how cute, leave it at my study now won’t you?’ ‘I’m sure your Nana would love it.’ And go right back to what he was doing..

You didn’t understand why that happened— but it seems as if he didn’t bother to get close to you simply because you were a gift to his mother, a granddaughter she wanted to have but he couldn’t give unless through legal assistance,

you were for her to love— not for him to raise.

At least that was the case at this point in time.

It was weird.. you never truly has any terrible or bad interactions but— yet it made you disappointed each time, made you crave for his attention. After all— he’s supposed to be your father. Why wasn’t he paying attention?..

You were currently in your room sitting at your desk, papers scattered with different colored wax and pencils messily thrown around on the surface.

You were drawing something, a gift as a last chance to get him to notice you properly. You even had a special gift that your Nana helped you pick out for him! Surely, your dear dad would notice you now right?

Scribbling the last few finishing touches you then dropped the pen on the table as you exclaimed a little “Aha!” And raising the drawing up high, feeling proud of your masterpiece!

You quickly set the drawing down as you then hopped off your chair to a cower through a little playbox full of toys you had, only to search for one single thing. Once your tiny finally felt the touch of wood and slight metal, you grabbed it and pulled it out with yet again another delightful glee.

It was a small radio shaped wooden charm, the metal being the small little ‘hand’ that moved whenever the radio was operating and transmitting audio frequencies. The perfect gift for papa!

You then quickly grabbed the drawing off your desk, both your gifts in hand your little feet went pitter patter as you ran to the dining room where Alastor was having lunch freshly made by his mother.

Your Nana having recently left the home to get a few emergency groceries, made this a good time for just him and you to connect.

“Papa! papa!” You squealed, Alastor’s brows furrowing at several elements in his surroundings annoying him slightly..

“_____, no running in the house remember? Cant have too much noise disturbing our home.” Despite his scolding you couldn’t help but to just giggle and almost jump in excitement in what you’re planning to give him. He continued “Besides as I have mentioned many times before, call me Al—“

“But papa! Papa!— look!—“ you interrupted him, your voice projecting a bit more into a yell as to have him look at what you have.

“_____, no yelling please dear. I can hear you quite well. I’m not a mile away..”

“Yes papa— b—but!.. look..! I made you something..” you then gently set the drawing up at the table first beside his food. Alastor’s attention finally set on the paper and even stopped eating to look at it. He picked it up.. his eyes inspecting it.

It was a drawing of you and him in a sunny flower meadow in a forest both you and his mother had a picnic in recently, except it was just the both of you here.

The drawing was definitely not the most perfect but it was definitely the cutest. Your scribbles somehow managing to immediately the shape of his hair perfectly, his glasses were visible and his red suit was very on parr with what he would wear on the daily, then there was you— your hair a bit more messily drawn than his and seemed more rushed.. as if you couldn’t yet wait to finish the piece. To top it all off it even had small scribbled words in pencil that said ‘papa’ and ‘me’ and an arrow pointing at each individual figure that fit that description.

Oh how cute.

You stared up at him closely, even for a young kid as yourself you were able to notice the way his usually dark and cold eyes had a twinkle in them, a sort of softness diluting his everyday smile ever so slightly.

It took him a second before you then set the trinket on the table where he picked up the paper from “And this is also for you papa.. nana helped me pick it out for you since I said I wanted to give you a present…”

His eyes darted towards the trinket and even picked it up, inspecting the work and its shapes along with the design of it as a whole. Admiring it almost.

His eyes darted back to the drawing, both hands with both gifts.

“Darling…”

Your little heart ran faster, your hopes were rising up to the heavens. Is he gonna say he was proud?.. he loves it? Adores it?.. hates it?—

“This is cute and all, but don’t forget to draw Nana in next time! She was at that picnic with us too remember!” He exclaimed as he smiled at you in an almost bittersweet way, his softness almost being wiped off entirely.

You frowned, “but.. I made it for you papa.. I’m always with nana so.. I wanted to make something for you!” You smiled fondly at him, trying to still hope for a ‘I’m proud’ from him.

“Aww is that so dear?” He spoke as he then set the gifts on the table on the opposite side of where you were, all while hiding behind a smile.

“Well just don’t forget to add Nana in next time, thank you darling for the lovely gifts.” And just like that he began eating.

Ah.. still the same— reaction. It was a bit better.. it wasn’t just a short and quick sentence at least so that made you smile a bit but.. you expected much more.. a hug, a proud smile.

“Yes, papa…” you then slowly walked off back into your room. A bit down but you weren’t going to let that ruin your smile, Nana always told you and papa to always smile no matter what. So that’s what you’ll keep doing. Even if— your expectations were dearly hurt today.

What you didn’t see was Alastor yet again inspecting the gifts you gave him after you left, a hand tilting it a bit to see it clearly and to have the trinket closer to the figures of the both of you.

His permanent smile’s ends stretched a bit, a ‘hm’ escaping his throat as he took another sip from his black coffee.

He never truly saw himself as your father, never fully taking care of you unless his mother asked him to.

Ah but, it was nice to think that way huh?

(HAIIII THABK YOU FOR READING THISSSS I had lots of fun writing this and omfg I have so many idea for Vox and reader interactions, especially when the plot thickens. But thank you so much for the wait on chapter 1 of this story!! I know the prologue has been awhile but I reallyyyy want to continue this since this is my very first original alastor and daughter fanfic that I’ve written years ago and want to revamp into this!!)

475 notes · View notes

scoutswritingcorner · 3 months

Text

Dreamers Don't Dream

Alastor x GN!Reader

TW:Panic Attacks, Nightmares, descriptions of murder/death.

A/N: I know Alastor is a deranged Serial killer but I just want to sit in his lap sometimes.

You usually didn’t dream much but when you did, it was always a fleeting feeling, touch or smell of what could’ve been if you didn’t take the chance. If you didn’t play the “hero”. The voice of your mother calling you in from digging into the dirt as a kid to merely hours before the accident as you recalled the smell of your favorite body wash. Then it was washed away with the face of the man that killed you, the blood on the knife in his hand and the insane way he stared at you. The eyes of your best friend. The eyes that you trusted..the eyes that ripped you away from your family.

Sitting up from the couch in one of the many lounge rooms in the hotel. You felt your skin crawl, you needed to get out of it. Shakily getting off the couch, you noticed the familiar red jacket laying on the couch, as your vision blurred and your breath shortened as you gripped the familiar article of clothing, only one thought crossed your mind. You wanted to find Alastor. No, you needed to find Alastor. You needed to feel safe again.

Your feet robotically walked out of the lounge as your breath quickened and you felt like you were suffocating on nothing but air. As you walked faster you ignored how you almost tripped over your own feet that dragged behind you, your brain getting lost in the halls of the hotel. But your feet knew exactly where you needed to go..a small part of you knew where to find him. One hand carefully grasping onto his jacket as the other one clawed at your own neck as you tried to keep your breathing under control.

Take a left..then go down until you reach one of the maintenance doors and then take a right, then keep going straight.

A choked sob ripped through your throat as you began to speed walk down the longer hallways, his voice could be heard laughing at someone or something. But then you heard footsteps behind you. Oh Satan, why were they so fast? Was he running at you again? Chasing you down an endless hallway for your Father to find you dead later? Was he here to kill you again and again? To keep torturing you in the afterlife? You already paid the price. Why couldn’t he leave you alone for good?

Then it stopped- all of it came to an abrupt stop. Like a record scratch on a gramophone as cool fingers wiped your tears away and soft jazz started to play from the familiar cane leaned against the bar. “Deep breaths, Cher.” His voice called out the radio filter gone for now. One of his hands slowly guided your hand to his chest as he took a deep breath in and then slowly let it out, watching as you slowly started to do the same.

“Good..one more deep breath for me?” He whispered, leaning his head down to allow you to finally look up into his scarlet eyes. Taking in one last deep, shaky breath for him before exhaling the panic and fear gone. “There we are, Darling. That pesky nightmare bothering you again?” He asked as you silently nodded, scared to say anything right now. He hummed the radio filter back as he held his arms open in an asked question. ‘Can I hold you?’, it was a simple question but it was one that made your undead heart flutter. He never asked to hold you or touch you, he always did it without thought and you never really minded but now? Now it makes you feel ten times better.

With a quick nod to him he easily snapped his fingers and both of you were on the couch in the foyer. His arms wrapped snugly around you as you got comfortable on his lap, head hiding into his shoulder. His red jacket wrapped around your frame as you mindlessly messed with his undone bowtie, as his thumb rubbed up and down your lower back.

“Did I tell you about the time I made Vox short circuit at one of my meetings? Oh you should’ve seen everyone’s faces, Cher. It was to die for.”

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #alastor x you #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel imagine

569 notes · View notes

bluerosefox · 5 months

Text

Our Well Deserved Break

Its

Shenanigans (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

Time again!~

-x-x-

Danny, our boy the Ghost King, looking over a small team going over relic's given or 'offered' to Pariah Dark over the years both before and after he was sealed away. As they're taking inventory of the chaotic offering room, they stumble across a certain artifact.

This artifact is able to summon a set number of people (it does have its limits) of the users wishes to them and it sets up a barrier around the surrounding place so no one summoned gets out. You know, those kinds of artifact's certain people use to summon heroes and or villains into a room and have them fight to see whose the strongest or for a tournament, Yeah that kind of artifact!

Danny, who found the item, takes a look at after being told what it does. Then out of the corner of his eye he spots himself in a mirror in the room and see's his crown floating above his head and feels the full weight of his responsibility since before and after his crowning. Yes he had help with his advisor, despite how cryptid he can be at times, and of his council but still the weight was a bit too much for a teenager like him.

An idea struck his mind when he hears the ticking of a clock behind him. Without saying a word Danny looks back and raises an eyebrow at Clockwork whose staring at him in silence as well. He glances at the item, tilts his head a bit before...

Smiles in only the way CW knows would both be good for Danny and amusing for him. He nods and says "One weekend should be fine. All timelines will be paused for them. I suggest telling your friends to help prepare for your guests. Enjoy and have fun my King."

"YES!" Danny's voice echoing in the offering room made many ghosts in the room jump for a bit.

This was totally going to be fun!

-x-x-

When the following weekend arrived, young and very stressed teen heroes from across the multiverse are suddenly pulled from their worlds and are summoned into the Infinite Realms. Before any of them can panic or start fights a voice rang out above them and when they looked they could see a young teen, with a crown floating above his head, white hair, and glowing green eyes sitting on a throne.

He smiled and said

"Welcome fellow stressed out Heroes and Heroines to Phantom's Keep! I'm King Phantom, recently crowned fifteen year old, and this is the Infinite Realms! The birth and ending of the multiverse afterlife! Now don't worry none of you are dead or anything like that. I summoned you all here for one reason and one reason only..."

Here Danny paused, just to troll a tiny bit, and could see some of the more tense heroes readying up for a fight or at least argue to let them go. He grinned though and then said.

"And thats.... TO HAVE FUN!"

After that he floated out of his throne and with a flourish in the air he waved his hands and his throne room changed with party decor all around. Tables off to the side appeared with food and drinks from well everywhere and anywhere the multiverse, balloons rose from the ground and floated upwards, streamers flew across above to attach themselves to the other sides, the castle lights shifted to a dim and music began playing from somewhere.

Danny grinned brightly down at them and their shocked faces. oh that's funny, thank goodness Tucker is recording this and Jazz is gonna scrapbook this party for him (she plans on making them for all the guests as a party gift later, you know to remember how fun the party was)

"Now all of you are stressed out teen heroes with a lot of responsibilities on their shoulders! Believe me, I know that feeling, been there done that still doing it even now! But! My advisor says this will be both fun for me and good for you guys to spend one whole weekend here to de-stress and have fun! I do have some ground rules though. One your timelines are in fact PAUSED, you don't have to worry about calling your parents or if you got mentors to let them know where you are at. Two you are all heroes here, many of you are from different worlds and if you are from the same world they already know or CAN be trusted with your real identities but you are NOT required to remove any masks or de-transform or anything like that, if you wish there are masks on that green table over there you can stick on if you want to keep your identities hidden and are spelled to stay on and fuzz the minds of anyone trying to remember your looks once its on, even if they catch a good look at you right now it'll fuzz their memories of you once the mask is on and even after the party don't worry we thought of the time. Three, boys and girls rooms will be at different wings within the Keep! Just ask any of the maid or butler ghosts that will be joining us shortly and they will guide you to the rooms! Fourthly! There are sparing rooms if you wanna test your strengths with others, I only ask please don't get too carried away. We are here to have fun not make enemies! and lastly PLEASE DO NOT try to leave the castle, we are in the very afterlife of the multiverse people, its like the ocean and even I find it hard to navigate it sometimes. Portals can open up to any and all worlds, different timelines, etc etc. I have key items here in the castle that can pinpoint YOUR timeline and world so when the party is over I can send you home no problem, so again please do not attempt to leave."

Danny paused to take a breath, okay ground rules set up and warnings given. He could see the absolute bewildered looks on all the heroes faces and held back a laugh. He smiled however when one of the teens, mask on his face already and dressed in green, yellow, and red asked 'Why?'

"Why? Well... I think its time us teens get to have some fun without worrying about the next big bad or world ending event. Even if just for a weekend, we do deserve a break. So... Lets have some fun for once!" Danny responded.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #dp x dc #blue rambles #crossover #writing ideas #random idea #danny phantom dc #dpxdc #well hints of dpxdc #still putting it under it though because yeah totally would summon Robin #which Robin? eh anyone of them I guess #Danny uses a relic meant to pull people for tournaments and uses it for a party instead #CW gave his blessing cause he knows it'll both be good for Danny and fun for him to watch #the Heroes pulled can be from ANY worlds #all crossovers are welcomed #he knows the stress of being a teen hero #and wants other teen heroes have a weekend to de-stress #Jazz thinks it'll be a good thing for Danny too #let her brother have some teen fun for once #Sam and Tucker are helping out keeping everything going smoothly #and they get to have fun as well #CW and Danny's council are keeping the normal annoyances away from Danny for now #LET THEM HAVE FUN #o(*￣▽￣*)o

610 notes · View notes

incognit0slut · 1 year

Text

Right Kind of Wrong (4)

She never thought she would be involved in a murder investigation and encounter her one-night-stand again, the awkward guy who isn’t exactly that good in bed—Or is he? Offended by the sentiment, Spencer is determined to prove her wrong… But as he gets tangled with the beautiful stranger, he realizes there is more to her than what meets the eye.

Part summary: Y/n and Spencer's unexpected reunion ends in a quarrel. wc: 4k

Warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content, blood, graphic details of murder

Other parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14

SPENCER CONSIDERED HIMSELF AS A GOOD PROFILER. His background in psychology was a strong contribution to becoming the expert that he was now. He also believed he had a very strong sense of detail in his work, especially when it came to assessing body language. It took a lot of careful observation and attention to interpret it correctly, and with all the experiences he went through this past decade, it came to him naturally.

But to observe meant to be focused and right now he was anything but that.

"Ms. L/n, this is Dr. Spencer Reid."

How could he focus when he couldn’t believe what he was seeing? Spencer had always been fascinated by the concept of the afterlife, the mystery and unknown of what went beyond death. Granted, he had never encountered anything superstitious, but maybe this was as close as he could get to ever experiencing that because right now it felt as if he was seeing a ghost.

The idea of meeting the stranger he tried to forget never crossed his mind, especially in a situation he least expected. While he wouldn't completely deny the possibility of coincidence, he tended to be more skeptical and cautious about things that push the bounds of rationality and reason. But now that she was right here in the flesh, he couldn't keep his eyes off of her.

She had the kind of face that made you stop to look, the sudden pause in a person's natural mind when they glanced her way. Delicate face, high cheekbones, full luscious lips. But beyond the appeal of her beauty, there was deep exhaustion in her eyes. Her shoulders were tense. Her cheeks were flushed. Her chest rose in rapid movements as the pace of her breathing increased.

There was a sense of agitation in her posture, a clear sign of anxiousness. He could decipher that all too well because it was exactly what he was experiencing now. A storm of panic suddenly rose inside him, a sense of overwhelming dread and anxiety taking over his body and mind, leaving him feeling as if he was trapped in a fight-or-flight mode.

Y/n opened her mouth, closed it again, then tilted her head. His eyes scanned the crease on her forehead as if she was deep in thought before she threw Morgan a hesitant look.

His panic intensified.

"Well, actually—"

"Nice to meet you!"

Both of their heads snapped at him. He couldn't blame the way they were gawking, because between the panic and the shock still lingering in his system, his vocal cords managed to change his voice into a higher pitch. He cleared his throat and smoothed down the suit he was wearing, calmed his breathing, and carefully lifted his other hand.

He gave her a wave.

"It's nice to meet you."

He saw her looking at him warily before she calmed herself, crossing her arms against her chest in an act of defense. She eyed his hand as it settled back to his side.

"Let me guess," she started, quirking an eyebrow. "The number of pathogens shared during a handshake is staggering?"

There was a heavy pause as they both held their gaze. Morgan glanced between the two. "Do you know each other?"

The air suddenly charged with tension, a thick weight that settled in her chest before she looked away. "I suppose not." She walked towards the door, pushing it ajar. "After you, boys."

Morgan threw her a skeptical look before stepping into the room. The moment Spencer stepped forward, her eyes narrowed at him suspiciously. An overwhelming sense of anxiety, coupled with a feeling of wanting to hide took over him as he shuffled past her, looking straight ahead.

The two agents sat by the table. She watched as Morgan observed her with an immense amount of curiosity while the man sitting beside him finally had the courage to look at her. The moment he lifted his eyes and settled them on her own, she couldn't help but notice a slight shift in his demeanor. It was as if in the midst of trying to calm his nerves, a switch suddenly clicked inside him, showcasing a very focused and intent look that commanded attention and respect.

She took the seat right in front of him.

Morgan's eyes swept over to her. "Ms. L/n—"

"Y/n is fine."

"Y/n," Morgan started again. "Can you tell us what happened?"

She gave Spencer one last look before focusing her attention on the other man. "I don't understand why I have to repeat this process again."

"People's recollections and perceptions of things can often change over time. It also helps us better to understand the situation," he explained. "What happened before you found Mr. Lynch?"

"Technically, Eric was the one who found him." She placed her hands on the table, intertwining them as she recalled what had happened a few hours ago for the second time. "Jamison called me before everything happened. It was a short, desperate call and it ended too quickly after he asked for help. I ran back to his office after that."

"What exactly did you hear on that call?"

"Heavy breathing. He sounded..." She trailed off, a look of forlorn set in her eyes. "He sounded as if he was in pain. There was also a loud crash in the back."

"Was there any other voice besides him?"

"I didn't hear anyone else."

"And you're the only one he called?"

"I'm not sure," she answered truthfully, shrugging her shoulders. "He might've called Eric as well."

The two men shared a look. She waited for either of them to respond and was taken aback when Spencer regarded her the next question. "What were you doing prior to the call?"

She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms.

Something about the way he was watching her vexed her. One moment he was scurrying off trying to diminish any relation he had with her, the next thing she knew he was addressing her with a keen interest, and not in the way he had on that eventful night. There was wonder and excitement on their first encounter, but all she could notice now was the intensity of him assessing her as if he was trying to analyze her.

She wondered whether he had two different personalities.

"Ms. L/n?"

She steadied her gaze before correcting him, "Y/n."

Then she tried to think back on what happened before the rush of panic took over her body. She remembered recalling her conversation with Oliver and how declining his obvious interest was the right thing to do. And then somehow her mind manage to reminisce about the last man she was involved with, who ironically, was sitting right in front of her.

So basically, I was thinking of you.

"I was walking to my car in the parking lot," she finally said.

"Did you see anything suspicious before you got the call? Or when you ran back to his office?"

"Not that I was aware of—" There was a moment of sudden clarity. It was like a rush of insight and understanding, and everything clicked into focus like a puzzle or a riddle. The sudden realization made her heart race with disbelief and fear at the same time, and her mind started to race with all the possibilities and connections it had discovered. "Someone did push me in the parking lot."

Morgan frowned at her. "Push you?"

"Somebody accidentally brushed me and I lost my balance," she explained, her brows knitting in concentration as she tried to recall that exact memory. "He was tall and... fit? He wore everything black and when I called out on his lack of manner, he ran away."

"Did you see his face?"

She shook her head. "It was pretty much covered with his clothes. He was wearing a hoodie, I think."

"Was there any other thing that stood out from him?"

"No, I don't remember anything significant. After that Jamison called, then everything happened so fast." She gave them a resigned look. "I'm not even sure if it has anything to do with what happened."

Morgan gave her a reassuring smile. "It's fine. Any information might help us with this investigation."

She nodded, and before they could ask further questions, she inquired about a curiosity of her own. "May I ask why the FBI is investigating this case?"

There was a feeling of great importance and a weight of significance as Spencer clarified, "We suspect Mr. Lynch's murder is linked to another case that happened not long ago."

She blinked her eyes in bewilderment. "You're telling me there's a possible serial killer behind these two murders?"

"Yes," he confirmed, his words seeming very heavy. "The nature of these deaths are very similar, we think that the Unsub has a motive behind all the killings."

"Unsub?"

"It's an abbreviation for Unknown Subject, and it's mainly just a code word that represents the suspect."

She nodded once again, then eyed both of the agents sitting across from her.

"Is the death of my boss linked to Kevin Marshall?" When the two men narrowed their eyes suspiciously, she stopped herself from rolling her eyes. "I'm a journalist, I was working on that case—well, before it got assigned to someone else."

"What do you know of Mr. Marshall's case?" Morgan asked cautiously.

"Nothing much, really. I simply knew he was found dead with some kind of writing on his body." She looked away. "I saw a glimpse of something written on Jamison's arm, it's not that hard to put two and two together."

Morgan regarded her with a nod. "We do suspect these deaths are done by the same Unsub."

Spencer then gave her a look, one that clearly indicated his opinion of her. "And we highly appreciate it if you could keep this information confidential," he requested. "We don't want the media to compromise our investigation until we have further information."

She frowned at the charge behind his words. "You think I'm going to write a story about what happened?"

"Isn’t that what you do for a living?"

It took a lot of self-control for her not to throw the pen sitting in front of her across the room.

"With all due respect, Dr. Reid, I find it offending that you think I would write a story on the murder of someone I personally know."

"I—Ms. L/n, I wasn't trying to accuse you of being inconsiderate."

"Well it seemed exactly like that to me."

The silence after that was deafening. It was a sort of heavy, oppressive stillness that hung in the air that it was so brittle it could practically snap, and if it didn't, one of them might. It was terribly uncomfortable that Morgan could feel the tension building as the seconds dragged by without a sound. "Are you sure you don't know each other?"

"Yes."

Doubt was written across his face. There was a sense of discomfort that came along with the uneasiness from the escalating tension as he glanced between the other two people in the room. He gladly let out a sigh when his discomfort was saved by the sudden call coming from his phone.

"Saved by the bell," he muttered under his breath, which didn't go unnoticed by the two people who were now glaring at him. He simply stood up from his chair and moved toward the door, pulling it open before answering his call with a firm yet flirtatious voice. "Talk to me, baby girl."

She wrinkled her nose at the pet name as the door closed behind him. "Was that his girlfriend?"

"No," Spencer responded. "That's the technical analyst in our team. They have a unique way of addressing each other."

The sound of his gruff voice suddenly pierced her, and it was then that she realized she was left alone with the man she never thought of ever seeing again. Her attention went back to him as her eyes slowly wandered across his face, noticing the way he was observing her.

One of the things that had always caught her interest was his disheveled hair. It was untamed, the mass of wild, chocolate-colored curls brushing against the collar of his shirt was something that often caught her attention. Then there was his attire, wearing a nice fitting dark suit over an even darker button-down and a tie wrapped around his slender neck made him look very professional.

But it was his eyes that stood out the most.

There was something in his gaze that seemed to unnerve her tonight. The warm, hazel orbs that greeted her in the dim light of the bar seemed darker now with a certain intensity engraved in their depth. The man in front of her was different from the man she had left that night. The man who sat alone at the bar didn't have the same air of authority he had at this moment. Spencer Reid after hours was adorable, awkwardly charming, and very much easy to approach.

Dr. Spencer Reid, on the other hand, still managed to keep his calm while being very serious, even after his flustered episode from their unexpected encounter. The soft stubble on his jaw also helped the somber look he was going after, which if she was being completely honest, made him look even more handsome than he already was.

It was a good thing he couldn't read her mind.

"So," she started, crossing a leg on top of the other. "FBI agent, huh?"

He addressed her with a nod. "A profiler, to be exact."

"And what does a profiler do?"

He looked surprised by her interest but managed to explain the nature of his job. "We study and analyze crimes and criminals through an analysis of their behavior to understand the reasoning and motive behind them."

She hummed in response. "You know, I thought you were a medical doctor." Confusion passed across his face before she continued, "You have a lot of certificates."

"...so you do know my name."

"It's hard not to when it's plastered everywhere on your wall."

He paused for a moment, assessing the weight behind her words. "Then why did you call me by the wrong name that night?"

She went completely still. She knew the best way to avoid a question was to throw in another one, so she uncrossed her arms and leaned over the table.

"Why did you pretend like we didn't know each other?"

His body tensed as he felt the discomfort crawling on his skin. The overwhelming feeling of uneasiness and tension wrapped inside him was so intense it was smothering him.

"It is true though," he defended. "We don't know each other very well."

She couldn't stop the scoff slipping out of her mouth. "Ah, yes. I may not know the city you grew up in but I do know what position you like in bed."

"How could you even conclude that?" He choked, clearly dumbfounded by the crude and unexpected comment. "We've only been together once."

"In which you put me on your lap the whole time."

She knew there was a truth in her notion by the way his cheeks slightly flared in embarrassment. He simply cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "Listen, I think it's best we keep what happened that night between us."

"And why is that?"

He finally tore his eyes off her.

How could he explain that something in this occurrence never happened to him without feeling self-conscious? That she was the first person he was sexually involved with no relation whatsoever? That sleeping with a stranger never happened to him in his thirty-five years of life?

And how could he explain he preferred not to share one of the most unforgettable nights of his life with his colleagues? How could he explain he wanted to keep his personal life private without offending her?

But before he could explain himself, she was already jumping to conclusions at his lack of an answer.

"Is it because you're ashamed that a smart, hot-shot FBI agent like you spent a night with a mere journalist like me?"

His eyes went wide. "What? No—"

"Are we done here?" She quickly cut in, suddenly feeling uncomfortable with the weight of his gaze. "Do you have any more questions?"

"Of course, I do—"

"Regarding my witness."

"I..." He frowned, then shook his head. "No, I suppose I don't."

"Great. It was nice talking to you, Dr. Reid."

The bottom of her chair scraped against the hardwood floor as she got up, staggering toward the door. One might say she needed to work on her pettiness, but she had always been stubborn when it came to feeling unreasonable. So before she could leave, she turned on her heel, pointed a finger at him, and narrowed her eyes before she sneered, "And just so you know, do not flatter yourself. You weren't even that good in bed."

She threw him one last glare before stalking toward the door, tugging it with utmost force only to find Morgan standing in the way. "Agent Morgan." A rush of heat coursed through her body. "I believe I can go now?"

He looked between the two of them with curiosity. "Yes, of course. Thank you for your time, Ms. L/n." The menacing look in her eyes beneath her embarrassment urged him to correct himself, "Y/n."

She then left the two men behind with the last thread of dignity she had. It didn't take a trained profiler to understand she left the room fuming with anger.

Spencer watched her leave. A sudden overwhelming sense of shock and disbelief flew through him, leaving him in a state of surprise and confusion. He was so stunned he didn't know how to respond while the woman he wanted nothing more than to follow behind had practically tarnished his self-esteem and bruised his ego.

And to make things worst, his teammate was watching him with intense interest, eyes twinkling with amusement as he leaned against the door frame.

He expected a lot of things to happen tonight, but he did not expect it would end the way it did. Suddenly feeling drained, he slowly got up in a daze. It felt as if he had recently gone through the most amount of emotions he had ever experienced in just one night.

The only way he could forget what had happened—albeit momentarily—was to put his mind on other matters. Like the current case at hand. Like the crime scene a few rooms away. He needed to focus on more important things and he couldn't do that with his friend constantly finding amusement in his misery.

"There are a lot of questions in my head right now, pretty boy."

He stalked toward the door with a newfound resentment. "Good, keep them to yourself."

Morgan's laughter followed him out of the room.

>> NEXT PART

taglist

@comboboo @sebastiansstanswhore

a/n: i am today’s years old on finding out that having a taglist is a thing😭 tell me if you want to be added please i am such an amateur on this app.

1K notes · View notes

herlondonboy · 4 months

Text

arms tonite, clarisse la rue

summary: I cry in the afterlife I cry hard because I have died, and you're alive I try to escape afterlife I try hard to get back inside your arms alive VERY loosely based off of this request

warnings: mc death obviously, sad everyone, my lack of knowledge on the battle of manhattan because i read the books 7 years ago

wc: 1.7k

you sit against the ancient tree, the bark rough against your back, a painful reminder of the chaos that unfolded. your fingers clutch your stomach, the pain intensifying with each passing moment, a stark contrast to the distant roars of battle. your chest throbs where the drakon's claws had viciously slashed you moments ago.

the air is thick with tension as you watch your friends and family, armed and determined, engage in the fierce battle of manhattan. the clash of weapons, the echoes of spells, and the monstrous roars resonate through the air, creating a cacophony that drowns the world around you.

your gaze shifts from one familiar face to another, each caught in the chaos of combat. the weight of your injuries pales in comparison to the heaviness in your heart as you realise the magnitude of the conflict. the realisation that more lives are at stake than just your own sends a shiver down your spine.

tears blur your vision as you witness the sacrifices being made for the greater good. the ground beneath you trembles with the resonance of battle, a painful reminder of the fragile line between victory and defeat. you wipe away the tears, a silent vow to honour those who fight alongside you.

despite the searing pain and the exhaustion that threatens to consume you, you summon the strength to stand. your every step is a battle against your own limitations. as you move towards the frontline, determination replaces despair. the stakes are too high, and you refuse to let the sacrifices of those around you be in vain.

with each step, you feel the weight of responsibility on your shoulders. the tree, once a refuge, now seems like an anchor holding you back. but you press forward, driven by a desire to protect the ones you love.

the battlefield unfolds before you like a tapestry of chaos, but you find a rhythm within it. your own pain becomes a fuel, transforming into a relentless determination. you join the fight, your weapon cutting through the air as you face the challenges that threaten your world.

in the midst of battle, you catch glimpses of your friends, their resilience mirroring your own. the scars on your chest throb in sync with the beating heart of the battle, a constant reminder of the price of survival. yet, you fight on, not just for yourself, but for the future of those you hold dear.

the battle of manhattan rages on, a testament to the strength of the human spirit in the face of adversity. and as the dust settles, you stand amidst the fallen, a survivor, a witness to the sacrifices that define the heart of heroes.

locked in the chaos of battle, your eyes meet clarisse's across the tumultuous field. the concern etched on her face speaks volumes, a reflection of the scars left by the loss of silena beauregard. the memory of silena's sacrifice lingers, and clarisse fears history may repeat itself.

summoning every ounce of energy within you, you manage a reassuring smile for clarisse, a silent promise that you'll make it through. the connection between you two transcends the battlefield, a source of strength that fuels your determination.

as you let out a ferocious battle cry, it echoes through the turmoil, a proclamation of defiance against the forces that threaten your world. the resonance of your voice, joined by the battle cries of others, creates a symphony of resistance that shakes the very foundations of the battleground.

with renewed vigour, you charge back into the fray, your weapon slicing through the air as you engage with the enemies that stand before you. clarisse fights by your side, a formidable duo that refuses to be broken by the looming shadows of kronos.

the battlefield becomes a dance of blades and magic, each movement a calculated effort to turn the tides of war. your connection with clarisse strengthens your resolve, and together you weave through the chaos, fighting back the forces of darkness.

clarisse's concern transforms into determination as she witnesses your tenacity. the bond between you becomes a beacon of hope in the midst of despair. silena's sacrifice, though painful, serves as a reminder of the strength that arises from unity and love.

amidst the clash of weapons and the eruption of spells, you and clarisse carve a path forward. the battlefield is a canvas of struggle, but your shared commitment to each other becomes a driving force that propels you through the hardships.

as the battle unfolds, you find moments to lock eyes with clarisse, exchanging silent reassurances that you're still standing, that the darkness hasn't claimed you. the weight of her worry lessens with each shared glance, replaced by a growing confidence in your resilience.

the battle of manhattan rages on, but your bond with clarisse becomes a source of inspiration for those around you. the echoes of your battle cry reverberate through the hearts of allies, spurring them on to face the challenges that lie ahead. together, you fight not just for survival but for a future where love triumphs over the shadows that threaten to engulf the world.

tears stream down your face, mixing with the dirt and blood on your cheeks. the pain radiates through your body, each breath a struggle. clarisse's hands, stained with the battle's residue, continue to apply pressure to the wound, her movements desperate and unyielding.

"sorry," she mutters through her own sobs, her voice breaking with every apology. but despite the pain, you recognised the strength in her touch, the fierce determination to defy the cruel hand fate has dealt.

you wince as her hands press against the wound, the searing pain intensified by the pressure. your breath catches, and you find it harder to form words. finally, you manage to muster the strength to speak, "sto... stop!"

clarisse's hands fall to the side, and she looks at you with a mix of sorrow and regret. you can see the pain in her eyes as she watches you, helpless in the face of impending loss. "stop, please," you manage to whisper, your voice barely audible over the battlefield's cacophony.

she apologises again, her hands cradling your head as if trying to shield you from the cruel reality. you can feel her trembling, the weight of the moment pressing down on both of you. in this shared vulnerability, the world around you seems to fade, leaving only the raw, painful connection between two souls entwined by love and loss.

as the battle continues to rage, clarisse stays by your side, her gaze fixed on your face. the chaos unfolds around you, a stark contrast to the stillness of this intimate, heartbreaking moment. in the hushed pauses between your sobs, you confess the fear that grips your heart, the terror of facing the unknown, of losing everything you hold dear.

"clarisse, i’m scared," you admit, your voice a fragile whisper.

clarisse's eyes well up with tears, but she brushes them away with the back of her hand. "you're not going anywhere," she insists, though the lie hangs heavy in the air, a bittersweet attempt to offer comfort in the face of inevitable tragedy.

the battlefield's rhythm continues, a cruel reminder of life's relentless march forward. you feel the grip of mortality tightening, each breath becoming shallower. clarisse leans in, her forehead touching yours, a final act of closeness in the fleeting moments that remain.

in the quiet between the clashes of war, your final breath escapes you. clarisse's hands still cradle your head, her eyes closed, as if trying to hold onto the fragile threads of your presence. the battlefield's chaos, now distant, becomes the backdrop to a heartbreaking silence.

clarisse stays there, lost in a mix of grief and disbelief. the world around her continues to turn, but in that stillness, she remains with you, holding onto the memory of love and loss amidst the echoes of battle.

clarisse, fueled by the searing pain of your loss, rises from the ground, her eyes reflecting the torment that lingers within. the battlefield, now stained with the blood of the fallen, becomes the canvas upon which she paints her grief and rage. without you to return to, her actions are untethered, reckless in the face of her newfound solitude.

she charges into the fray with a ferocity unmatched, each swing of her weapon cutting through the enemy lines. the air crackles with the energy of her relentless assault, a testament to the storm of emotions that rages within her. clarisse fights not only for victory but to drown out the haunting echoes of your final moments.

as she carves a path through the chaos, a determination burns in her eyes, a fire fueled by the memory of your courage. the world around her blurs, and she becomes a force of nature, unyielding in her pursuit of justice. her every movement is a declaration that your sacrifice will not be in vain.

the battle rages on, and as percy confronts kronos, the culmination of their struggles unfolds. in the aftermath of percy's victory, clarisse stands amidst the wreckage, alive but changed. the victory is bittersweet, and the reality of a world without you sets in.

chris rodriguez, battle-weary and scarred, kneels beside clarisse. he sees the turmoil in her eyes, the weight of a heart burdened with grief and guilt. without a word, he offers her a silent comfort, a presence that understands the scars etched into the soul.

clarisse, attempting to remain stoic, fights against the torrent of emotions threatening to consume her. but as the battlefield falls into an uneasy silence, she crumbles. tears stream down her face, a torrent of pain and regret released in a torrential downpour.

"i couldn't do it," she chokes out between sobs. "the one thing i was born to do, and i couldn't protect them." the realisation of her perceived failure gnaws at her, leaving her vulnerable in the aftermath of the war.

chris, with a gentleness unexpected from a seasoned warrior, places a hand on her shoulder. he understands the depth of her grief, having faced his own demons. in the quiet aftermath, they share a moment of shared sorrow, acknowledging the harsh reality of a world that demands sacrifices, even from those who fight with everything they have.

as the first light of dawn breaks over the battlefield, clarisse rises from her emotional abyss, a survivor forged in the crucible of loss. the scars of battle may fade, but the wounds of the heart linger, a reminder that even in victory, the cost can be immeasurable.

you cried that night. because you died in the arms of your lover, and it couldn't have been more perfect.

#clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse my beloved #clarisse la rue #clarisse x reader #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse x you #clarisse pjo #elijah writes #lyric fic #angst #YIPPEE #please reblog

334 notes · View notes

velvetchrry · 9 days

Text

grim reaper!simon “ghost” riley x f!reader

He wasn’t quite sure why but he didn’t want to take your soul.

Fragile little thing, still clinging to life. Sickly. Withering. But you had a fire inside of you, he could feel it. Burning brightly enough that it might even char him.

He wondered the last time your bare feet had touched the grass. The last time you filled your lungs with summer air. The last time you left this tiny little prison keeping your mortal body alive with tubes and drains.

You smile at him. It sends a chill down his spine — something he hadn’t felt since the before. Before he was this. Before he was death. When he was still a man. He can barely remember his old name anymore. Why are you smiling at him?

“I’ve been expecting you.”

Your voice was a melody. Expecting him? You couldn’t be.

“Do I have a few minutes or is it time now?”

He’s taken thousands of souls. More than he can count. Ferried them to the afterlife. Nothing but a blip on his radar, long forgotten. The ones that were still conscious enough to see him begged to live. Begged to be spared. But never this. Never waiting for him.

“Would you like a few minutes?” The words coming out of his mouth surprise even him. He hasn’t heard the sound of his voice in a long while. Hasn’t had the need to speak. It startles even him — a distortion of his human voice.

“I would… I would like to say goodbye to my mom.” He wants to wipe away the tear trickling down your face. He wants to tell you it’s going to be okay.

He nods and hovers to the corner of the room. You don’t seem to mind that he’s waiting there while you call in your mother. She doesn't accept what you have to tell her. It’s not your time, how could it be? You’re young, you have so much life left to live. You’re going to live, she won’t hear anymore of it otherwise. You say okay, another tear falls. You ask her to go get you something to eat.

When she leaves, you look back over to him. A shaky breath releases from your chest. You quickly wipe the backs of your delicate fingertips on your waterline.

“I’m ready.”

But he’s not. Oh no. He’s not.

He doesn’t want to take your soul. Doesn’t want it to incinerate that last little piece of him that’s still human. The piece that wriggles its way up to the surface every so often. He knows if he helps your soul to the afterlife, he’ll never remember his name again. Never remember the touch of a woman’s skin, the feeling of a hot breath against him. Never feel the ache in his chest where his heart used to be. The phantom pain that reminds him who he was. Simon.

He’s at your bedside before you can even blink. You’re not phased, not one bit. He sits, and reaches to take your tiny hand in his. You furrow your brow gently but give it to him.

He sees a flash of the man he was again. The black robe slips down his arm. A sliver of skin reveals his tattoos back at him, tattoos he hasn’t thought about in decades. You study him in silence while he does the same.

Why does your soul sing to him? Why does it remind him of the things he’s forgotten? Why you? Why not the other thousands upon thousands of souls?

“Will it hurt?” your tiny voice squeaks out.

They don’t deserve you — the gods that rule the afterlife. They’ll waste you, they won’t cherish you like he would. Like he could. You deserve so much more, delicate flower that you are.

“No, darling girl, it is as easy as dreaming.”

They have millions of souls. Billions. Surely they won’t miss yours. He can steal one soul for his own. It’s just one. One soul. The most precious soul he’s come across.

You close your eyes and let out a slow breath, waiting for the end to reach you. Death’s sure kiss.

He leans in slow, like he’s approaching a scared animal. Your eyes don't open. No — you trust him.

His lips meet your pillowy soft ones. He almost forgets how to do it, but your lips remind him. They help him. You kiss him.

He feels your soul like a lump in his throat. His large hand — the one not holding your wrist — wraps around your neck. It burns him, this kiss. He knew it would. Sizzles the very bones in his body.

An electrifying feeling takes hold of the both of you. Your skin is covered in goose flesh (his would be too, if it still could be). Your nipples harden, a wetness trails down your panties. You don’t break from him or his kiss. He wonders if it burns you a little too.

When the lump in his throat settles he finally feels it. He’s whole. For the first time in… maybe ever. He’s done it. He’s really done it. He breaks away from you.

Color has returned to your cheeks, the blood rushing beneath your skin. Already you look better than you did before he entered the room.

You don't understand it, he knows you don’t. Someday he’ll explain. Someday. But not yet.

The gods of the afterlife will never find you, and if they do, they’ll never have you. You’re his now. He’s done it.

He’s melded your souls together.

#call of duty #cod x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost x you #ghost cod #ghost x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost x reader

174 notes · View notes

orphicrose · 3 months

Text

The co-host (Alastor x femreader)

Summary: You are Alastors Co host in life, perhaps more. But are separated by a sudden death. When you are finally reunited in the under world, it is up to Alastor to figure out why you don’t remember him.

I’ve written like 5 other parts so do let me know if more is wanted

—-❥-----------

“Hello and good morning listeners!” The radio in every household beamed with that familiar Louisiana accent. Brightening up their breakfast and drowning out the commotion from out in the busy streets. “Today’s broadcast is brought to you by your one and only Alastor. Of course it is! When isn’t it” he finished his sentence with a friendly chuckle.

“Today should be expecting dry weather and a muggy air! Oh what wonders this country brings us, right y/n?” he beams over to a presence that lingers next to his. “ it sure does Alastor!” The second voice replied.

”silly me! Listeners, today I am joined by my new co-host, Miss y/n l/n! Get used to that name folks, she will be involved in your morning routine as much as I am. I’m sure of it” The radio was interfered with cracks and breaks in between words. Old piece of junk, never lasted long in hell. Especially when you buy it second hand from a drug dealer. The channel was lost, y/n desperately tried to get it back but was instead surprised with the voice of Jack from Jack the Ripper of bad news. His broadcast about sharing only bad news of hell. Which was basically everything that happened.

Y/n clutched at her radio, frustrated. It was the only piece of property they owned since falling into this shit hole. What makes it worse is she remembers everything. There was no peace after dying, there was an eternity of falling and waiting. Wondering what the afterlife may bring you, wondering if heaven and hell really exist. Then comes the spiraling questions of, what if i end up in hell? No i couldn't, i lived a good life. But if i do end up in hell, i will never see my family again. What if this is the end, what if just fall forever. Then, just as you think this is your life now, you hit the floor. But there is no warm welcome of friends, happy to see you and inviting you home again. Instead, cold glances, threatening gestures and a crowd of unfamiliar faces watching you from every direction.

Y/n had used her life experience to their advantage, struggles in life made their struggles in hell easier. It was almost the same, just without the morals, and friendly faces. She managed to land a job in a club for a while, that was enough to pay for hells equivalent of a studio apartment. Pay check to pay check was the new normal, which wasn't necessarily unfamiliar. The main difference now was, no one knew her name. But not for long.

The club she worked in was like any other club, just with less shits to give and more fucked up to get. It was a strange change from a loved media presence. But you gotta do what you gotta do. Over time, though, you make friends with the regulars. Especially when you're the one pouring the drinks. This particular day was just like the rest, except for a certain, unknown and unwanted guest to be welcomed into the establishment. Y/N spent her shifts pouring drink after drink, cleaning the glasses that were downed and then pouring more drinks. Occasionally having a conversation with a customer, few of them being pleasant or remotely normal.

"Gimmie a drink love" a slurred voice yelled from the other side of the counter top, his body slumped over like he'd been shot and arms wailing about like he needed to be.

"The usual?" Y/n offered a smile, before turning her back to him to grab a glass from the counter.

"You know me" His wrinkled face made an attempt at a wink, while the rest of his body fought for him to stay vertical. The drink was in his grasp in just seconds of asking. You learn to get quick in this line of work. "Hey, y/n, you noticed that creeper staring acha?" He gestured his head towards the booth in the very corner of the bar.

"No, but then again, all of you are creepers" She turned again, trying to get back to organizing the shelves but he was persistent. "if i'm not mistaken, that is the sin of the wraith ring"

"You probably are mistaken considering you're drunk as an old pimp, Travis." The mans attention span for Y/N quickly faded, and he found himself back on the dance floor. Spilling his new drink over everyone while he popped his head up and down in the crowd. He was bound to be back soon. Music was rattling the glass counters behind the bar, making it hard to hear anyone without having to shout. So when the man from the boot appeared behind y/n, she couldn't hide the fact she was startled. His professional demeanor was a contradiction to his chilling appearance. What could only be described as a Goats skull was in place of a human face, wearing an old red top hat that was supported by a pair of curvy horns. He carried a finely carved stick, complimented with a gold crows head on the top which perfectly fit the curvature of his hand. And his eyes, were just cesspits of nothingness. Y/n was trying their best to find some sort of life in this moving entity, but it felt as if there was none. Till he spoke.

"I'm aware you have been waiting for this encounter to take place, Miss L/N" Nothing could have prepared her for the breeze that his cold tone brushed over her.

"I don't know who you are, sir" If she wasn't careful, he might be able to hear the fear building up in her throat. If her suspicions were correct, though, then it would be even harder to contain.

"Yes you do, don't play games with me. I'm not here for that, I'm here for what i am owed." He paused, tapping his long nails on the wood countertop. The only barrier separating the two of them. "Your soul belongs to me".

An upbeat tune played in the background of the radio tower, accompanied by a soft voice humming along to it. Cleaning after hours wasn't a hard job, but it wasn't what she wanted to do. She wanted more. More money of course, that was an issue during the depression, but also a name. For people to hear her talking and to be entranced and want to listen, just like how Alastor drew in so many people.

"Oh, sorry dear. I didn't realize anyone was here." His voice startled her for a brief second, before her eyes focused on the man in the doorway.

"It's ok, i didn't even notice you where there to be honest sir." She responded with a smile, continuing to sweep the floor of the confined space. "What are you doing here? I thought the tower was locked till 6am for broadcasts."

"Yes, it is. But i enjoy the solitude from time to time." he still lingered in the door way, now hesitant to come any further and ruin the newly cleaned floor. "Y/N, isn't it?"

"Yes sir. I apologize, I'm usually finished sooner than this but i guess i was day dreaming" She laughed nervously under their breath. Now moving to the station to turn off the music.

"Leave it on" He stepped in the the room. "I like this song", encouraging you not to turn the music off as he sat down at the booth Infront of you. "And call me Alastor, dear, we are technically collogues."

She smiled agreeably, sitting down in the chair opposite. "Thank you, Alastor." she sighed as the seat melted into them, feeling as if they hadn't taken a break in years. There was a brief silence between the two, letting the music carry their unspoken conversation.

"Your voice" he began again, pausing while she hummed in acknowledgement. "You have a voice for radio. Your pronunciation, your tone, the way you present yourself. Is that why you got a job here?"

Their conversations lasted until the early hours of the morning. Laughing, chatting, listening and then yawning when they realized how long they had been up for. Y/n reminisced, missing the simple and easiness of Alastor's companionship. The familiarity and comfort of those times she had with him.

"your sole belongs to me" His voice echoed again, waking y/n up from their trance. Music from the club came beaming back into her head. "The running is over now. I'm calling my favor. Don't worry, you'll benefit from it, but you wont like it"

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin charlie #hazbin angel dust #hazbin husk #x reader #alastor x reader #fem reader #Hazbin hotel x reader #romance #slow burn

248 notes · View notes

nmakii · 27 days

Note

Yan Alastor when he sees his kids arrive in hell? The family is soon to be back together again!!? I need some angst! The family drama is crazy, and im all for it.

Also i hope you’re doing okay! Sending you some supportive vibes!! Remember to take care of yourself and take breaks!

Ps: Al would totally forgive his daughter of his death and compliment her daughters aim.

STUCK WITH U?

[you should prob read the story first!]

— reunited with your children years after your death, something strange happened.

hello, nonnie!! im doing well as long as u guys r enjoying this story 🥰💕

beloved mother, wife, and daughter

resting beside her love, may her soul find his in the afterlife

if you tried to be optimistic, hell wasn’t so bad. you never had to worry much for the exterminations. nor, did you have to worry about being harassed on the streets of hell by various sinners. after all, alastor was there to protect you.

but despite that, it didn’t mean he wouldn’t tear you down to make you compliant.

you sat in a corner of alastor’s broadcast tower as he brutally tore apart another overlord. and as he went off the air, he turned to you. “are you enjoying yourself, my doe?” he asked. “i don’t understand why i have to be here…” you said, mentally hurling from his new pet name. “you’re so delicate, my love. one trip and you could break! i have to be there to make sure you’re well at all times.” he cooed to you. “stop patronizing me, alastor. i won’t let you take away my dignity.” you glared at him. “darling, i may not own your soul. but, you are still my wife. you are mine, understand?” he explained, walking to you.

you didn’t respond to him, refusing to let him degrade your self worth. to this, he grew angry— grabbing you by your jaw and scalp, his claws scratching against your porcelain skin, lovingly yet still rough, as if he thought it was for your own good. “i said, do you understand?”

his face came close to your’s as he kept a tight grip on your hair, waiting for your answer. your fight or flight response was sending signals and going haywire as you tried to pull away from his touch. “yes— gh, let go of me, alastor. please…” you begged as he finally let go. “good girl.”

and just then, an awfully convenient knock came from the door. a man with lamb-like features peered through the door. “and, who might you be?” alastor raised an eyebrow to the man. “so it’s true… d-dad..! it’s me!” the familiar voice said. could it be?

“noah— is that you..?” you asked. you hoped it wasn’t him, that he didn’t end up in hell. but at the same time, you wished to see your son one more time so badly. “momma, it’s me!” he smiled, hugging you and alastor tightly. “ah, my boy…” alastor sighed. “you’re so much older than your old man now, huh?” he remarked. but then, it hit you, he was dead.

“wh— dear, what happened, how did you die?” you asked. “killed in action, ma. guess i should’ve just retired already…” he joked. “oh, my son…” alastor grinned.

and things were normal— at least, as normal as they could be with your deranged husband. things stayed as they were for 13 years.

when rumor spread of a mysterious man-eating sinner— she uses them to build her power, and then she drops them like dirt trash. she’s amassed so much power, she’s certainly a threat to alastor’s power. if he couldn’t get rid of her, perhaps he could keep her under his thumb.

“well, how do you do, sweetheart? alastor, pleasure to meet you, quite the pleasure! this over here is my darling wife!” alastor introduced both him and yourself to the older woman with features that resembled a coyote. “alastor..? is that you, dad?” the honey-like voice asked.

alastor’s eyes had widened as he realized the woman in front of him. “little emi, is that you?” emilia reached out to hug the both of you. she aged beautifully, still as charming as she was the day you died.

“oh, my pretty girl, you’ve made quite the name for yourself down here in hell, hm?” alastor grinned at his daughter. “i learned from the best!” she laughed back.

and as they conversed, you felt like an odd man out. as if alastor was talking to his own clone. given, she is her father’s daughter after all.

“darling! our little emi is here, our little family is reunited at last.” alastor grinned to you. “this calls for a celebration, don’t you think? why don’t we have a special dinner tonight?” he suggested. by his tone, the only thing you could think of would be that he wants to have another sinner served on the dinner table. “i-i don’t know…” you shook your head in disagreement. “now don’t be such a negative nancy!” he laughed. “i’ll cook a feast tonight!” he declared, taking emilia to your home in hell.

and, just as you suspected, he served the flesh of a fellow overlord, fillet mignon style. “come now, dear, eat!” alastor said, encouraging you to take a bite. “no thank you… i’m not hungry.” you frowned, shaking your head. alastor looked frustrated as you denied him. “eat.” he said, shoving the meat into your mouth.

you felt sick. but, as he shoved it down your throat, you had no choice but to swallow. “delicious, isn’t it?” he asked. your stomach churned, the guilt settling in your gut. it tasted disgusting. but, as much as you wanted to protest, you were scared of what he’d do if you disagreed. “yes… it is— delicious.” he grinned. “lovely.”

and so, your family dynamic had returned to as it had 47 years ago. back to normal… that is, until that odd day.

you woke up in your bed, as per usual. and, there was a note where alastor should be. not that you weren’t grateful he wasn’t there though.

‘leaving for a sabbatical, you know overlord work! i’ll be home very soon, my doe. kisses and love.

~ A’

sabbatical, huh? he’ll be gone for quite a while, a year at most? and, without alastor, you’re free. it felt as if breathing fresh air for the first time. even if just for a year or so, you won’t have to be on his leash anymore. all would be well now, right?

right..?

but with your freedom, alastor’s protection was gone. sinners started to harass you. and without the company of emilia, you could do nothing but withstand it.

this is all apart of being free. might as well enjoy it until alastor returned, right? make the most of the year.

or, seven years.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor #alastor x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #hasbin alastor #alastor hazbin x reader #alastor hc #alastor headcanons #human alastor #alastor the radio demon #yandere alastor #yandere hazbin hotel #yandere

194 notes · View notes

botanicadrabbles · 30 days

Text

Hydrangeas'

Lucifer x Reader

Warnings: Hanahaki fic. Established relationship, jealousy, self-doubt, relationship anxiety, blood, vomit.

Part 1, Part 2

Word count: 1,241

Hell was never some where people actively wanted to end up; Tales of an eternal afterlife of suffering and punishment, when you first arrived in hell that’s what you expected. Opening your eyes to see a… Some what inviting place, was absolutely not what you had expected.

However that was years ago, now you’re helping Charlie with the hotel, no real want to redeem yourself. Charlie always asks you why and you have to just shrug and not really explain, your relationship with her father was a secret and you didn’t know how she would react to him dating someone else other than her mother.

You always heard from Charlie how amazing their love story is and how deeply in love they where, “I mean he still wears her ring” she would say. You always deluded yourself to think the reason he kept it on was because he still was in love with her. That he still solely cared about her, you felt you had no place to tell him he has to take it off, he was grieving the loss of his wife and you have to respect that.

But when with him, and just him. You never felt any pressure to be something different. Dancing around in his flower garden, his arms resting around your waist, yours hanging loosely around his shoulders.

Music was playing softly in the background, post modern jukebox. He always says how he loves more classical and older styled music compared to the new way music was made, but you where born in the early 2000’s and enjoyed the music you grew up with. So you made a deal (though not a magical one) that we only listen to music covered by them so we both get enjoyment out of music while with eachother.

Stopping for a moment you detached from him to look at the garden, that is why you where invited over after all. To see his flower garden, he stays at the hotel but doesn’t trust any of the staff in the palace to actually look after the garden properly so he comes every day to make sure they’re being well looked after.

Lilies…Lilly of the valley… Royal lilly… Spider lilly… His love for Lillith ran deep and you’re no longer sure to yourself if he loves you as much.

“Y/N.. Are you alright? You’ve been looking at the flowers for awhile” He says, his voice is so sweet to you and you’re starting to hate it, you hate how jealous you’re becoming…How possessive. You want people say how in love he seems with you, you want flowers to be planted and taken care of as well as he does as these for you. You want to be more with him.

Ofcourse though, he doesn’t give you much more time to think as he scoops you into his arms, pulling you into a deep hug, lifting you off of the ground. Looking down was a mistake as you realise how quickly and how far you had gone off of the ground now.

Like any sane person you cling onto him worried about falling, souls where a fragil thing, and that’s all you where. A sinner, a lost soul who wasn’t good enough to get into heaven.

You could feel the two of you turning slowly in the air like a ballerina in a music box, scared still you look up at Lucifer and he has the worlds most loving and dotefull eyes. The moment seemed perfect, you hadn’t had a first kiss yet and thought it was now or never you swear you feel him pulling away but then feel the rain coming down, he laughs a bit and despite being confused you laugh along as he carefully but quickly hurries the both of you inside.

You can’t help but smile and laugh more at your circus leader boyfriend’s soaked hair and clothing making him look a bit like a sewer rat. He smiles too and for the first moment since being there today there was no doubt, no anxiety or second thoughts about your relationship with him.

“I’ll go get a towel for you” He says grinning with his sharp teeth you nod in response, “Okay Luce” you say and wonder the foyer into the overtly large dining room, raising your eyebrow at the grand and glaringly expensive dining room.

Lucifer doesn’t take long too come back puting the towel on your damp head for you to dry yourself off with. He takes a seat on the chair in front of you as he grabs your hands..Which forces you to drop the towel and look at him. “You’re so gorgeous Y/N” he’d tell you, you smile. You can’t help it, he has that effect on you. Something about him naturally makes you fall for him, wanting his praise and approval, some type of weird spell was cast on you the day you met him.

You didn’t even realise when you said it, fucking hell you regretted it the moment it came past your lips. You felt his hands retract from his, watched as his face fell and fear take over his previously peaceful and happy expression.

“I love you” is what you said..Regret is what you felt when he reacted that way, hurt is what you felt when he said “I’m sorry?” as if the complete notion of ever being loved by someone was lost on him. He laughed a bit when you didn’t respond, as if your feelings where a joke and what you had said was some type of childish prank.

Your heart ached, it twisted and turned and you where still, frozen in place as your heart begged your brain to start to allow you to move, run away. You can’t deal with him laughing in your face. It hurt. It wasn’t until the vomit crawled up into your throat that you felt your eyes tearing up. The rain didn’t seem to be a concern anymore as your legs moved.

They moved faster than you thought you could ever possibly do. Your own mind washing out the way he called out for you, the concerned voices of the hotel patrons and guests as you ran past and into your room.

You didn’t realise the breath you where holding, the amount of emotions you had until your legs trembled and gave out in your bathroom that was attached to your bedroom. Holding onto the bench you felt the vomit come back up your throat. That horrible feeling of vile burning the back of it until you couldn’t take it anymore and gave in.

As you vomited into the toilet, heaving and gasping for air, feeling as if your lungs where crushing under your ribs. Tears brimming your eyes as you hoped for it to pass.

The metallic taste in your mouth brought you out of the daze, confused you pat your finger tips to the soft skin of your lips.. Blood, there was blood on your lip, looking down at the toilet basin you see some of what you expect, pale vomit.. You didn’t expect to see a mix of blood as well as blue and while hydrangea petals.

You thought to yourself how stupid this was.

This had to be some weird curse, you read about it when you where alive. It was fictional right?

Well…Fiction is always based on some type of truth..

#lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #lucifer magne #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #x reader

148 notes · View notes

rowretro · 2 months

Text

𝕮𝖍𝖊𝖘𝖍𝖎𝖗𝖊

✧warnings: Yandere/toxic themes, Cheshire Riki, manipulation ig? mentions of going mad, blood, mentions of abuse, mentioned of being stoned

❁synopsis: Y/n is a very curious girl, and incredibly creative, having grown up in a heartless, cold, boring family, others always ponderred if the mother perhaps had an affair. She's so sweet and cheery and always curious. Her head always in may books, shows, as she feeds off of whatever knowledge gains... In fact she herself started wanderring whether hse was going mad....

✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧

Y/n was stuck in her room, her arms and legs all scratched up and bloody, she sat on the floor of her now, somewhat messy room. There and then she cried. Her eyes landed on the book above her vanity, she got up, limping, tripping over one of her stuffed toys, as she gripped onto the frame of the mirror, her face landing right on the mirror. However to her surprise, she didn't shatter it, or hurt her face, in fact she saw a whole new world.

Perhaps she had hit her head a little too hard and she was now in the afterlife? She immediately pulled away with all her might. Not a scratch on her face. She didn't even hurt herself. Curious, she reached her hand out to touch the mirror again, the mirror rippling as her hand went right. through the mirror. She looked back at her messy room then back at the mirror.

There's a whole crazy world on the other side of that mirror, No boring beings, senseless story books, long science essays that are meant to feed one's knowledge. Maybe behind the silver there's a whole dreamland. Smiling she stepped through the mirror. Boy was she stunned. Shocked, but she loved what she was seeing. "Oi mind your step!" a tulip yelled from beneath her foot.

"Oops- sorry sirmaam maamsir?-" she questioned, as she stared up at the sky "Ooh score tree candy!" she smiled, trying to reach for the gumdrop, only for the tree branch to suddenly go up "awh- can't I have candy mrmissmrrsmx tree?" Y/n asked, assuming the tree would also talk. A smile appeared mid air, and there, a handsome fucking man, smiling mischievously whilst staring down at her. "Well you're one cute lil kitty~" Riki said with a smile.

Since that very moment, everything seemed to be a blur. Y/n woke up gasping for air, there on the ground of her messy room. She had one very vivid, crazy dream, it felt so real yet she barely remembered most of it. She could only make out the figures of actual, human-sized solitaire cards chasing her down, A queen with a heart-shaped head. A white rabbit quite like her pet one, except it's male and it talks.

"Is there a chance I was stoned?" she asked herself as she shrugged, sitting up, there on her wall, surrounding the frame of her mirror, are solitaire cards. Is this some sort of Deja vu? Her shaky hands reached out toward the mirror, touching it. Yet she just left a finger print. It was just a dream. "No it wasn't sweetheart." Shocked, she turned to where that deep, dreamy yet familiar voice was heard. It's the Cheshire man.

"Have I officially gone mad? it's said that too much knowledge makes a human go mad" Y/n asked as the man snickerred, teleporting before her. "Everyone's mad here my darling..." he said "Darling?... no one's ever called me that-" She admittingly said. Riki smirked, walking around her in circles, tutting as he admired every inch of her "What a princess what a princess... why don't you do the honours miss Heart, and be my darling wife?" the handsome man asked as he stared down at her.

"Y/N. WHO ARE YOU TALKING TO?!" a woman screamed from the entrance, her eyes doubling in size as she noticed her daughter talking to thin air. "I KNEW IT. WE SHLDN'T HAVE ADOPTED SOME RANDOM 5 YEAR OLD THAT WAS PAINTING ON BRICK WALLS.... WE CAN'T HAVE A MAD WOMAN IN THE HOUSE. NO ONE'D MARRY YOU." she screamed. Ah yes, marriage. She's nothing but a pretty doll to sell to the richest man that'll treat her like his sex slave as he slept with other women, just so her so called family could have the money they want.

As the woman picked up a sharp dagger to stab poor y/n, she suddenly dropped dead, the very dagger pierced into her heart. "It seems you have no other choice my darling... you have to come back with me. Marry me. Let me love you in the place I call home, and you call your dreamland... if you stay here, they'll torture you cand claim that you killed her...." Riki explained as Y/n stood there frozen. Sure the woman was cruel and unloving, but she's still her mother...

"She isn't your real mother darling...... I know you're real mother... The queen of hearts." The male said, nothing but truth in his mouth. "You know you can trust my y/n... I know everything about you... I've been watching you through this mirror, my poor princess, so creative, curious and darling.... being mistreated in this dungeon.... let me take you home~" he said, opening a portal in the mirror. She had no choice, the guards had discovered the body... so through the mirror she went... into her wonderland.

✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧

a/n: Idk if this is very yandere or if u cld wrap ur head around it, I'll try to be more active for now my darlings as I will be pretty inactive due to a-levels and soon even uni and work etc etc, I'll work through my requests<3

162 notes · View notes

dontyoufeelitangel · 2 months

Text

What a lady

What happens when you have to push Adam to commit? He’s to pussy to go through with his actions.

Well ever since the last extermination many things have been discovered.

Starting off with the fact that Adam had come close to death. He thought he was the shit, but after his near death experience he’s been like a wobbly kitten who fears the wind.

It’s laughable actually, how quick he was to switch up, don’t get him wrong, he’s still a dickhead but now he is a dickhead that has almost died.

Sinners use angelic steal, how’d they get it? You don’t know. Regardless or how they got their hands on the metal, they still use it as if they have the right.

This really gets on your nerves because instead of forging their own metal they totally steal a bunch from heaven, it’s like, get your own personality you sinners.

Since becoming friends with the first man Adam you’ve changed.

He says for the better, your friends say you’re worse.

But what does their opinion matter when you have Adam as your partner?

Time isn’t a thing in afterlife.

It’s life eternal in heaven so nobody keeps a clock around.

But if you’d have to guess you’d say you have been with Adam for nearly ten years.

Yes, yes, that’s a long time, but you’ve been in heaven for thousands of years so your ten years with Adam feels like practically nothing in the grand sense of things.

Adam has had his effects on you.

You have been introduced to lots of new things with Adam,

Good music, clothing style, attitude style, foods and arts,

But he also told you about the exterminations.

Much to his surprise, you were totally on board.

Adam was actually put off by how on board you were.

He wasn’t complaining, not at all. He was as happy as polar bear in a snow storm.

To say you were on board was an understatement, honestly, you seemed to be more hyped than Adam.

After the last extermination in which sinners figured out how to use angelic steel and nearly murdered Adam, you were beyond pissed.

You used your anger to fuel your burning compassion,

The burning compassion that lit your heart into flames, it burned and crackled but the pain was pleasurable to know that you’d do it all by Adam side.

It was wrong to kill sinners, you knew that. But it was also wrong to try to start a rebellion against heaven.

So you completely lost it when Adam came to you with doubts.

You weren’t mad at him of course, you were mad at whatever past experiences he had to endure to make him freak the fuck out.

You can sympathize with his fear, he did almost taste death, for a second time. Perhaps it was the fact it was by the hands of a sinner that made him so weary.

Still, no excuse for Adam to leave you all high and dry with the extermination,

Like, c’mon… you were so excited, you had pumped yourself up,,,

“Well shit babe, I don’t wanna have those fuckers running around with angelic steel!!” Adam waved his hands in the air, he was referring to the sinners.

You rolled your eyes and scoffed.

What a pussy excuse

“Shit sugar tits,,, what if they get YOU with that steel!!” Adam exclaimed again this time walking around the room.

“I don’t know what I’d do with myself!! Shit!” He was letting his nerves get to him.

Not once, in your entire time in heaven have you seen this man royally freak out like this.

It was pathetic, you were nearly positive if Lute or Sera were in the room he’d surly act different.

You almost find it cute how he trusts you enough to have his little panics around you.

Almost.

He shouldn’t be going this batshit crazy, not in front of a lady,

Not in front of his lady.

You rub your temples before speaking,

“Calm down” you said once with a softer tone,

Adam must’ve not heard you, or maybe he just straight out ignored you because he continued to ramble to himself about the upcoming extermination.

Nobody was around, but it was still embarrassing for you to see him acting this way. For the first man you’d think he’d have a little more composure.

“ADAM.” You yelled, firm in your voice.

He stopped in place and looked at you, you huffed.

“I don’t understand why this is getting to you.” You told him, glaring daggers into him for his previous embarrassing behavior.

“Bitch I already told you! What if we die, what if we fail-“

“We fail? If you get your courage up we can’t fail.” You said, walking towards him. Adam looked around the room, trying to avoid your gaze.

You grabbed his jaw in your hand, holding his face steadily with one hand.

“Dear god” you spoke,

“Thicken Adam’s blood, and clog up his veins so he won’t feel remorse. So no human compassion nor sinners weapon can stop his plan.”

You offered your prayers to god, hoping he would make Adam man up.

You finished the prayer, your hand still holding Adam still, he looked into your eyes.

“We shall go to hell during thick night, so that our sharps weapons won’t see the wounds they cut open, and so that heaven can’t peep through the darkness” you told him.

You let go of his face and moved back to your previous spot sitting down.

Adam just sorta stood there, at a loss for words.

Damn, that was hot, you were a bad bitch,

You had intimidated Adam, usually he’d be incredibly offended if it was any other person, but you? You were a special case,

A special case in which Adam was buckling at the knees and felt his heart catch a flame.

“..yeah yeah,,” he muttered out. Still in shock yet trying to flag off what you just said.

He walks to you,

This time you use two hands to grab his face,

You pull him down to your level and place a kiss atop his temple, as a silent apology for yelling at him.

“You ready to go fuck shit up unapologetically and not be scared about it?” You tilted your head towards him.

“Hell yeah! Your right babe” he cheered himself on.

You gave a small smile.

“No more funny Adam, I gotta be so fuckin’ serious about this. I’m done being a total pussy, I’m done being funny” he nods to himself. Hyping himself up for the upcoming extermination.

“Adam, you stopped being funny awhile ago,,”

Inspired by Lady Macbeth, the baddest most evilest bitch in Shakespeare.

Also this is real shit writing, sorry for no plot. I was high and reading Shakespeare so I had a little thought.

158 notes · View notes