#i still get such a rush of being able to make such things by stringing words together
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THIS IS THE PART WHERE LOGAN BITCHES ABOUT CARTOONS
WARNING: VIVZIEPOP CRITICAL, STOLITZ CRITICAL
YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. I don't like this show, and I don't pretend to. Full transparency, I'm meaner in this then any before now. This is also slightly more disjointed than normal because I was directly reacting to the episode it's self.
"I swore I wouldn't dwell on the divorce." MAYBE WE SHOULDN'T BE RUSHING THESE THINGS BECAUSE IT FEELS LIKE HE'S WAITED TWO DAYS. EVEN IF IT'S BEEN MONTHS IT DOESN'T FEEL LIKE IT.
"I'll hear him and not the voice that says I'm not enough" Oh boo hoo bitch. You've seriously done nothing to convince me to feel bad for this stupid fucking asshole. His writing is full of holes and contradictions. It makes him feel like two different people.
"I'll set us free!" Are you quite sure that means what you think it means you stupid fucking ass.
Framed adoption certificate is a nice touch. Very cute.
Blitz is immediately not coming off how they want. I think they're -trying- to imply he has some deeply buried feelings too, but it comes off as "i didn't want this and i still don't want this, why can't it just be normal hookup shit."
"I'll die alone if this goes wrong!!" You have the emotional depth of a teaspoon and are about as interesting as one. Boo fucking hoo. BAD.
NGL this really made their wealth difference hit home. Why the flying fuck is blitz still bordering on abject poverty dude? You should be able to help him advertise send something IDK man, if you really gave a shit, why aren't you trying to actually help him in a genuine way? I'm sure he wouldn't say no if you slipped a hundred bucks or so into the book every so often. I fucking hate it here.
"Would he want me if he was free?" No. Next question. (You've done very little if anything to prove Blitz actually wants strings attached in this.)
"If he's only here as a prisoner what kind of monster does that make me?" Little late to have this realization but I'll take it. Also can we seriously stop downplaying how awful this is for BLITZ to go through? Stolas is severely over represented in Blitz's own fucking show. Why is Blitz so underdeveloped??? Why, dude? The episodes that mainly focus on him are pretty okay, but once Stolas shows up it's all fucking stupid.
If Blitz rejects him (which he should. Look how fucking anxious he is just THINKING about this.) he could lose his entire way of life. No more apartment, probably gonna get Loona taken away. Probably has to resort to prostitution or return to clowning. Stolas just gets to go about his life of luxury.
Why is Blitz's emotional well being such an after thought in this duet? THIS IS NOT STOLAS' SHOW.
"He showed me that I could choose" ...Dude. You have given no weight to swing that line at us. This isn't much of a choice in the grand scheme of things. Stolas and Stella already had the kid. The marriage never had to last. Not from the impression you've given us. He's a toddler deciding he wants chocolate milk instead of regular. We have never been shown he's actually going to lose anything of real value. He's still a prince. He's still got his money. Like are they trying to have him killed, sure but lets be real he's A PRINCE OF HELL. Assassination attempts are like...Tuesday for him.
GOD THIS SONG IS ASS. I will not allow Blitz to be painted as the bad guy here. Fuck Stolas, and fuck the team for trying to make it seem like we should feel bad for him. They both suck. BUT STOLAS IS OBJECTIVELY IN THE WRONG.
Ah yes, The Helluverse special of "let's yeet a stupid ass joke in the middle of plot, completely derailing anything." it has only been a few seconds and it's already going on for too long. Go learn from Bojack or RvB.
...........This cherub bit is throwing your entire lore off. If these idiots are having to do this shit to get by, why are they acting like heaven bound can do whatever they want in Hazbin? If all you meant by that line is the human souls in heaven, you totally screwed up the message there. Your points are murky at best, and you're contradicting yourself at every turn.
...............Are the cherubs mortal now? Like they're flying and glowing but they have to eat???? Huh? I don't think I've ever realized you're showing they eat a lot, but surely you don't actually have to eat as an angel or demon? Surely it's just a choice???? That's genuinely so fucking stupid???? WHY IS THAT EVEN A THING?
WE DON'T NEED FIVE ANTAGONISTS IN A CHARACTER DRIVEN EPISODE YOU FUCKING IDIOT. YOU ARE LITERALLY RUINING YOUR MAIN PUNCH. YOU ARE TAKING AWAY TIME THAT SHOULD BE USED TO ACTUALLY PROVE BLITZ HAS SOME KIND OF FEELINGS FOR STOLAS. BAD.
Honestly the stuff with these five would have been a fun standalone minisode. NOT IN THE MIDDLE OF ONE OF YOUR SINGLE MOST IMPORTANT EPISODES.
Bloody alleyway was a phenomenal cutaway gag. Points.
You really are not making it sound like Blitz likes this at ALL.
"If someone wants to see you less and less? Big red flag." NOT IN A HEALTHY RELATIONSHIP, DUH. He's literally a prince of hell in an affair with a """childhood friend""" who was literally PURCHASED for him. The whole thing is a red flag. Not just this!
You are making it exceedingly clear Blitz's just in it because he think's he'll lose the book. I don't give a rats ass about what micro-development you're going for. You take away time needed for showing that Blitz is conflicted on more than one level to do stupid ass tertiary character shit. YOUR CAST IS OVER BLOATED. BAD.
If you wanted me to feel bad for Stolas, maybe don't show that Blitz has an Angel-esque box of sex toys because he thinks he has to impress him. Stolas should have made it very clear AGES ago that he just wants Blitz. If Blitz is this hung up on needing to impress the damned bird, something very VERY wrong is happening in the bedroom.
If you seriously want us to think Blitz has feelings/cares about Stolas (Not that he HAS to), this sex candle shop would have been a perfect place to do it. "Well, he really likes it when I do this-" "This is his favorite colour." "This is his favorite scent." Blitz clearly knows nothing about Stolas, and both of them are to blame. This relationship is never EVER going to work if they know this little about each other when they've been regularly boning for ages. He should know more about what he likes. "What's the mood!?" "I don't know!" Woof. Full stop. This is never going to work in a real scenario. Womp Womp Move on.
HOW DOES BLITZ NOT KNOW HIS MEASUREMENTS. HOW CAN HE NOT JUST HELL-GOOGLE HIS MEASUREMENTS. STOLAS IS A PUBLIC FIGURE IT WOULD BE KNOWN. HE DOESN'T CARE, ERGO WE DON'T CARE. BAD.
Like he seems to MILDLY know what Stolas likes but this should be WAY clearer. Especially if you want us to think Blitz secretly cares too.
Love Fizz's new outfit. Very cute.
Gonna be real, Fizz and Blitz are seriously adorable. Can Ozzie pick him up too and actually show Blitz what being sexually valued is like? Because clearly he pulled it off with Fizz. Because he clearly enjoys sex and it feels like Stolas is just...using him. Not enjoying him. It's gross and SHOULD feel gross, because it FUCKING IS.
This whole bit with the cherubs makes it feel like we aren't supposed to give a damn about the main plot. That it's just a silly background to TERTIARY CHARACTER NONSENSE. BAD.
So far this confrontation is good as far as the pit of dread it opened in my stomach. I still really don't feel bad for Stolas. I feel bad for blitz. Him begging tore my soul out. It's so obvious how bad this power imbalance has gotten. I refuse to entertain these two any longer. This show needs to GROW UP and get over them, leave it here and I will forgive it.
Stolas should have 100% consulted Blitz before OFFICIALLY PUTTING HIM UNDER OZZIE'S JURISDICTION THAT'S NOT OKAY. Even if he leaves him alone, that can absolutely be weaponized.
"Am I not fucking you good enough?" Doesn't come off as him wanting more. Blitz feels like he's waiting for the other shoe to drop. For the love of the gods stop stringing this POORLY WRITTEN. BADLY RETCONNED. PATHETIC ATTEMPT AT A WELL DONE TOXIC RELATIONSHIP ALONG. BAD. MOVE. THE FUCK. ON.
"I care very deeply and have for a long time" You sure as shit never showed it.
To Those in The Back. ONE GRAND GESTURE DOES NOT FIX A TERRIBLE RELATIONSHIP. This is Mr. Peanutbutter with the library thing. This is Not ROMANTIC. This IS EMBARRASSING.
If he really cared, Blitz would not be living in poverty. If he really cared, he'd make an effort to engage beyond sex. IF HE REALLY CARED HE WOULD HAVE DIVORCED HIS WIFE THE PROPER WAY AND NOT TRAUMATIZED HIS FUCKING DAUGHTER OVER AND OVER AGAIN.
Stolas is a godsawful woobified piece of shit that doesn't have the decency to acknowledge he's the problem, and when he does, has the fucking AUDACITY to behave like a pathetic child. This I was wrong speech is DOGSHIT and has no punch to it because more than half of the episode was TERTIARY CHARACTER BULLSHIT.
Blitz has EVERY RIGHT to see this as a joke. I immediately burst out laughing because YEAH. WHEN HAVE YOU GIVEN HIM ANY IMPRESSION YOU CARED BEYOND GETTING YOUR FREAK ON?
"Thank you for being here for a little while." Oh boo fucking hoo. Get over yourself. "It's just about sex" BECAUSE YOU NEVER MADE IT ANYTHING ELSE YOU FUCKING BOZO.
I am immediately cheering Blitz on in his retort. He's fucking earned it. You're not going to make me feel bad by making them show up in the room from their childhood. Blitz is completely in the right here.
If Stolas really thought so highly of him, he'd be putting in more of an effort. Stolas treats Blitz the way he treats Octavia. Like they're dolls from his childhood. If he wanted to do right by them, he would. He is FUCKING ROYALTY. There is NO reason he can't put in more effort for the people he supposedly loves. You don't love them. You love the idea of them. You can't accept that they aren't the idea in your head. This isn't love. It's abuse.
Fuck you. Blitz has NOTHING to apologize for.
It's like Stolas doesn't seem to think he's the problem. No shit, of course Blitz isn't going to react the way you thought he would. Why are you just THROWING HIM OUT RATHER THAN TALKING TO HIM? BECAUSE YOU DON'T WANT TO ACTUALLY WORK FOR YOUR RELATIONSHIPS YOU STUPID ASS OWL. YOU WANT EVERYTHING TO BE HANDED TO YOU ON A PLATE YOU RICH DUMBASS.
Fuck everyone trying to paint Blitz as the bad guy.
FUCK. YOU.
He's just trying to survive! He has a fucking daughter! A found family! EVERYTHING to lose!
Stolas just gets his fucking feelings hurt. He is the architect of his own undoing. Suck my entire ass. This was easily the worst episode bar none.
The tone was ALL OVER the place, and not in an effective way. The plot moved at a halt and go pace and all the fun bits were BOGGED DOWN by the supposed point of the episode! You can't tell me this shit took all that time, unless you were constantly saying "OOOO YOU KNOW WHAT'D BE COOL/FUNNY?" and shooting your production scheduled in the foot!
The rest of the portraiture being covered up is a very nice touch.
I can't believe you've gotten me to defend BLITZO of all people. But here we are. I guess I'm on his team. (He's an abusive dick, but NO ONE deserves this.)
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✨️🎀🎈💞💝🕯🎙🤲💌
!! thank u so much for the ask. i love talking about writing......
✨ What's a fic you've posted you wish you could breathe life into again and have people talking about it? (or simply a fic you wish got more credit)
-hmm theres a point in which i have to tell myself not to worry about likes or comments bc what really matters is me getting the practise and exercising my writing muscles and having fun with it... But. i do wish i could get more ppl into my toy story fic. its got a whole bunch of wonderful comments and kudos and stuff, i just feel so proud of it and writing it came so easy and i poured so much of my love into it, i really really wish anyone who loves these characters would read it too.
🎀 give yourself a compliment about your own writing
-english is not my first language so grammar isnt often The Best, but i take a lot of care with using words and expressions as correctly as possible, and I try to always spell words right (i dont think ive ever confused loose and lose, for example, which ive seen confused a few times). some descriptions of spaces are particularly well done, at least to my own criteria, and the song choices are fun (or at least fun to write and picture in my head).
🎈 describe your style as a writer; is it fixed? does it change?
- honestly, ive no idea. i think i get verbose, and i write long dialogue scenes. i overuse the — to lead into another thought, because thats kind of like how my mind works. i try to be "cinematic" in my writing and always start a scene with a description of a place, its lighting and its sounds, like im used to when writing scripts. and i got the sense that usually the characters often ramble and go on long discussions about stuff that maybe normal people wouldnt just start out discussing so strongly. but honestly id much rather someone else outside my own perspective told me what my writing is like, i would trust them more than my own opinion.
💞 what's the most important part of a story for you? the plot, the characters, the worldbuilding, the technical stuff (grammar etc), the figurative language
-the characters!! everything is important, and stuff like grammar often jumps out first for me... but i need to enjoy how the characters are written, and feel like theyre real people with genuine motivations and interactions. i dont mind too much if theyre not super alike to canon, as long as they feel true to the core of their personality and values.
💝 what is a fic that got a different response than you were expecting?
-i was surprised to even get comments on my barbie frankenstein one. i loved writing it and it came through so easily and comfortably, but even though i had used that moderately popular meme of reimagining barbie as a gothic protagonist as inspiration i didnt really think it would be anything but something i liked to picture existing. i was so happy to see people enjoyed it too.
🕯️(there are two questions with this candle emoji symbol? i chose the first one, idk why theres two) was there a fic that was really hard on you to write, or took you to a place you didn't think it would take you?
-the tiff fic :'^) ive always liked writing sorta dark stuff, ever since i was little, but this was on another level. sometimes i felt (and still do) feel a bit awkward bc i really do push myself to write stuff i feel a bit embarrassed or shocked by, but i do think that if i want to be a better writer it does me good to make an effort to depict stuff that makes me uncomfortable and seek to write it in a sense of finding a way to both make if effective and relatively tasteful (or at the very least in-character).
🎙️which one of your fics would you like someone to make a pod-fic of?
- i have never heard about pod-fic before, but i guess i can imagine what it is (wonder if its like an audiobook, or if it has sound effects and the like??). i would love to listen to an audiobook of the barbie frankenstein fic mostly bc i would love so so much to hear the dramatic literary dialogue ive written in kelly sheridans barbie voice. also now that i think about it i have no idea what the creature would even sound like... that would be an interesting challenge.
🤲 what do YOU get out of writing?
-practise writing in english, a sense of accomplishment (when i get to finish something!!) and every once in a while some strong validation in the form of ppl liking what i write... all of it is super valuable to me, especially practise and the push and drive to finish stuff to upload, but the validation in particular just really hits that dopamine in my brain i guess
💌 share something with us about an up-and-coming work (WIP) that has you excited!
-its from the glen and glenda fic im halfway planning! i got a few dialogues written and some scenes sketched out, but its still a long way to go. im very excited about it tho! ive grown to really love the versions of the twins ive made in my head. hopefully theyre faithful to their screen depictions while also adding a bit more depth and character building ive wanted to take them through.
#. 🦴#i just noticed a writing mistake in that screencap of my glen n glenda fic fbfnnfjfhdhd#i didnt mention it but im also super proud of my mothers day fic. its the only one i made thats short and to the point#while still being effective like. emotionally. and i like the dialogue i did for it#idk man i love writing so much and even with how much im struggling with writing now#i still get such a rush of being able to make such things by stringing words together
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yandere!Alastor with Violet Evergarden!reader scenario: A Wendigo's Violent Love
Warning: aged-up!reader [in early to late twenties], violence, spoilers for episodes 7 and 8 in the first season of the 2024 show, possessive and obsessive behavior, Alastor is in denial, physical abuse, implication of friends to enemies.
There may be possible triggers in this story.
If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the back button on your phone or computer and read something much more pleasant than a possible series of unfortunate events.
Hey guys, welcome to another Hazbin Hotel fic! I know I had said that I was going to be on a break until the 8th or 14th in my last post, but I had gotten a burst of inspiration after watching the season finale and wrote this after discussing the idea with @riddle-simp and collaborated with @witch-of-the-writing-desk. It's because of these two that I managed to write 2k in a single day, so please give a big round of applause to these amazing individuals.
So with that being said, sit back, relax, and let's see what's going on in tonight's broadcast with Hell's one and only Radio Demon!
Part Two
Alastor could not believe what had happened on the rooftop. No, he refused to believe that he was nearly killed by a hair. To almost die for his friends, a fucking altruist of all things. Sorry to disappoint, but this is not how his story will end here. He thought viciously, tugging at his hair as memories rushed through his mind. He needed more. He needed his freedom. Yet this deal is restricting his powers from reaching their fullest potential, and it almost killed him. Yes, there has to be another way to get out of it. But more importantly….he needed to stop these feelings bubbling inside of him. These feelings he felt towards you.
You, a simple groundskeeper who had forgotten what it meant to be a human and served as a weapon in war. You, who did not use technology like him yet still found a way to connect with the rest of the hotel’s wayward souls.
He hates it and he wants you gone, out of sight and out of mind, because these feelings have put him in more danger than necessary. When he finds the backdoor of his deal, how to unclip his wings, he will be the one pulling all of the strings and claim the power that he rightfully deserves. He is the Radio Demon, the Great Alastor! Nothing else matters to him!
He made his decision right in the dilapidated radio station to never get attached to you or anyone else again. To only focus on himself and no one else. He is in Hell for a reason, after all. He cackled, feeling the thrum of his power rising in unison with his conviction. Yes. He thought. Yes, he’s Alastor! The cold, ruthless overlord who always has room for more voices on his broadcast. Not some soft-hearted twit who would die for someone!
But what he did not realize at the time, just right underneath the hatch, you had heard everything.
Despite your injuries and losing both of your arms to angelic steel, you had used your strength to trek through the debris and look for him. Now knowing that he despised you, knowing that he sees you as nothing more than a weapon to use for his convenience….well, you could not blame him. You were a weapon when you were alive. You were feared, you were hated, and you did not care at the time. So why did it hurt so much when he said that? You did not know, except it was better to keep your distance from him.
So you left the Radio Demon alone, staggering away to join the others.
Vaggie was somehow able to find Sir Pentious’ blueprints for your prosthetics in a fireproof trunk beneath the rubble, and put in a call to Carmilla Carmine to see if she could make them with angelic steel instead of adamantine. Of course, the angelic arms dealer took a look at them first before agreeing to it, but not before telling Vaggie she must ask for your consent to do the procedure and what you wanted to add or remove. You gave your input, and the procedure was scheduled for the following week. Although you could not help with the construction of the hotel, you did assist Charlie by putting together an eulogy and memorial service for Sir Pentious. The princess was not sure when it would be held, hopefully when the hotel was finished.
You understood, softly promising to be by her side for support, even if you had to be pushed in a wheelchair. Sir Pentious had been a good person, an inventor and a gentleman who was nothing but kind and respectful to you. Even though you offered to pay him for doing repairs on your arms in the past, he brushed it off and instead asked you to join him for tea. He…you hoped he found peace.
On the day of your procedure, you asked the overlord a question that had been plaguing your mind since the war. “Madam Carmilla, I am a weapon. I was raised to be one, to be used and tossed aside when my usefulness had expired. So…why is it that I am bothered by what Alastor said…on that day?” You did not dare to elaborate on what he exactly said to her, just that he said that he did not want to see you anymore. Be gone from his sight and mind.
She stared at you for a long moment before she replied coolly, “So I have heard from Vaggie. But I do not share her thoughts. A weapon is lifeless. You are a person. An emotionally stunted one, but someone is living, breathing, and who can still be hurt by what others say about them even if they can’t see it. You are upset because of what Alastor said….and in my humble opinion, whatever you feel towards him, discard it. There is nothing to gain by being close to him.” She then turned away, pulling on a pair of gloves over her hands as one of her daughters placed a mask over her face. “Are you ready to begin? This is your last chance, and I cannot promise it won’t hurt.”
“I am.” You said. “Thank you for answering my question.”
Carmilla nodded, and proceeded to give out instructions to you and the rest of the staff in the operating room. You complied, not wanting any more time to be wasted on your behalf. At least now you knew why you were upset. It was because you cared about Alastor. Cared….yes, that is the appropriate word. You had to distance yourself from him. It is what he wanted, so you must respect his decision as the manager of the Hazbin Hotel.
Yes, it is better this way.
That was the last thought that crossed your mind before a mask was placed over your face, and everything fell into darkness.
Alastor did not understand. You were doing what he wanted you to do. He did not want to see or talk to you unless it was necessary. So why was it making him angry? When he congratulated you on a successful recovery from your procedure, complimented your progress in physical therapy per Carmilla’s instructions, or how lovely the eulogy you wrote for Sir Pentious' memorial service, you showed no reaction. You simply stared at him with a hollow expression before thanking him, excusing yourself with a bow of your head.
He should be elated. No, he is pleased. He is satisfied that his relationship with you has not gone by being professional. Why, you even pull away as soon as he lays a finger on you~! So why does it bother him that you recoil from his touch? No. He…cannot accept it. He cannot accept this. He needed to speak to you. Discreetly.
However, now that this new and improved Hazbin Hotel stood in place of the old one, everything is much bigger with the additional square footage; meaning there would be more ground to cover if Alastor is to ever find you, even if you do not wish to see him.
Niffty, bless her little deranged mind, pointed him in the direction of the greenhouse. Of course, it was much bigger than the old one. But he still saw the old stained glass windows of the Moriningstar family crest lined up on the south side, allowing red light to come through and shine down on seedling trays with new shoots poking out of the inky soil. The clean, fragrant scent of herbs permeated the air as he walked through the rows of berries, juicy melons, and other culinary delights. He did not think this place would already be thriving when you were the only one who tended to it, as the hotel’s groundskeeper. However…this is you. You, who is able to accomplish anything once you put your mind to it.
He found you hiding just beyond the apple trees, kneeling beside a bush of glistening roses, armed with pruning shears and an apron over your clothes. A watering can sat on the grass by your side. Your back was facing him…which allowed him the element of surprise. Grinning, he leaned forward, stretching his gloved fingers to lightly caress the petals of the rose you were about to snip off.
“Oh, my apologies dear. My hand slipped!”
You glanced at him over your shoulder, emotionless [Eye Color] irises holding a steady gaze before turning away. “It’s all right. There are others that I can place at Sir Pentious’ memorial site.” You said, raising the shears to carefully cut another rose with a small snip. “Thank you for your concern.”
The static around him buzzed, swelling in synchronization with his boiling anger towards you. “I see.” He hissed. “I am terribly sorry to disturb you.”
“It is all right.” Snip. “If there is nothing else, please allow me to finish this so that I can go on break. Niffty will not be happy if I am not out of here within ten minutes.”
“I’m afraid we must discuss something, [First Name].” He pressed on, irritated at your uncharacteristic rudeness. “That is why I am here. So please turn around and look at me.”
You did. You placed the shears down, twisted your body around so that you looked at him straight in the eye. “Yes?” You said. “What do you need?”
He smiled, the static around him coming to a screeching halt and he was much calmer. Finally, He thought. You were looking at him, instead of avoiding his gaze. “I understand that since you have been cleared to return to work, you’ve been quite busy~! However! What I do not understand is why you have been ignoring me.” He leaned forward, feeling his eyes transform into radio dials. “You do not greet me as much as you have before, we haven’t had tea together, nor have we taken a stroll in Cannibal Colony~! So…why are you acting like I am a complete stranger to you?”
“Because I know the truth.”
Any and every thought he could have possibly said to her at this moment evaporated upon hearing your answer. “Pardon? I’m sorry but I didn’t catch that.” His voice leaked through the rising static. He felt his antlers grow, expanding past his ears with cr-crik, crick noises. Like the roots of a tree.
“I know the truth. I know that you are angry over what happened in the war, how everyone saw you flee from your battle against Adam. I know you wish to unclip your wings and that you utterly despise me. So I am doing what you wish for. To maintain a professional relationship as the groundskeeper and the manager of the Hazbin Hotel. Our goal is to redeem sinners. There’s nothing beyond business between us.” You said with a calm and expressionless composure. “I went there that day, to the radio station. I had gone there to look for you, to make sure you were all right when I heard your words. But know this,” A sudden sheen of ice glazed over your eyes. “If you bring harm to Charlie or anyone in this hotel, I will kill you where you stand.”
The last thread of patience in his psyche split in half. Before he could stop himself, Alastor pinned you against the ground, his hands on your shoulders and glaring at you, trying to intimate you with his true form, to scare you into silence as he had done with Husk…but you held your gaze.
“It’s terrible manners to eavesdrop on someone, my dear.”
“And it isn’t wise to attack someone when you are not even at your full strength.”
In a flash you immediately flipped him over, straddling his hips as you held down his wrists over his head with one hand. The other held a garden spade to his throat and he was burning. That was when he realized you weren’t wearing your gloves, thus the angelic steel is the reason why his skin is on fire.
“Calm yourself, Alastor.” You said. “There is no reason to be angry when I am doing what you want me to do. Nor to act as you are doing right now. I advise you to take slow, deep breaths and count to five backwards.”
“Release me.”
“Not until you have calmed down.” The way you replied so calmly, so…lifelessly, made Alastor angry. Angrier than he has felt in a long, long time. Not since his prey had escaped the forest and he did not get to eat them. Not since his mother died, leaving him alone in the world except for a drunken asshole who wasn’t worthy of being his father. Make these feelings stop NOW
“Come to my office in exactly twenty minutes for an evaluation about your conduct at work. Do not be late.”
That was the last thing he said to you before he sunk into the grass as an inky shadow, slithering back towards the greenhouse’s entrance towards his room. He couldn’t believe it. How could you have known everything? How could he not have sensed your presence? Was he that weak? No. No, he assumed he was alone and clearly he had not been. You were an anomaly. You were raised as a weapon; to spy, to kill, to search and destroy upon the command of your master.
So why does it still bother him? Why does his head feel like it is about to split in half as he goes over the conversation over and over in his mind? Why is his heart falling into the pit of his stomach at remembering your promise to kill him if he harmed anyone here in the hotel? Why does he have this urge to know how you truly feel towards him? Do you still care for him? Do you love him?
In twenty minutes, he needed to know the truth…or else he would go insane.
What Alastor did not realize though, as he holed up himself in his quarters until the allotted time to meet with you, Husk had seen the whole thing from the door.
He was going to drag you to lunch because Niffty had gotten pissed that you were skipping meals again…and thank fuck Alastor did not see him. Husk, the drunken gambler and former overlord, almost flew over to you with a worried look, grumbling under his breath. Once he saw that you were all right and did not have visible bruises or injuries courtesy of a certain someone, he grabbed you by the hand, leading out of the greenhouse. He was not going to let Alastor hurt you again.
He might be a dumbass, can’t fight worth shit…but you are important to him, and he’ll protect you even if it means putting himself in the line of fire again.
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#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel x you#yandere alastor x reader#alastor x reader#yandere x reader#forbidden-sunlight#yandere male#yandere#ns.fw#cw physical abuse#tw physical abuse#tw possessive behavior#cw possessiveness#hazbin hotel spoilers#violet evergarden!reader#character!reader
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Soulmate AU: First Words + End of the World ; requested by @justwannabecat!
Duke has long since accepted that he doesn’t have great luck. Most things in his life tend to go wrong very quickly, or complicate situations he was already struggling in (see: being a meta and getting his powers in the middle of a fight). Having an incomprehensible soulmark is an unpleasant discovery on the morning of his nineteenth birthday, but not entirely unexpected.
He had been hoping for something simple, a common one like hi it’s nice to meet you or sorry, didn’t mean to bump into you.
What Duke gets instead isn’t even words.
Scrawled across his left hipbone is a string of symbols glowing a faint green. They’re not in a language he recognizes, and the symbols seem to move, shifting ever so slightly so they look different every time he blinks.
“Well,” he says after a solid five minutes of staring into the mirror, unable to rip his eyes off his soulmate’s words, “I hope theirs looks nicer than mine.”
He spends his birthday in a bit of a daze, enjoying time spent with the Waynes and his friends. It’s hard to be fully present when he’s all too aware of the soreness on his hipbone flaring up each time he moves. It’s hard to keep his mind off of it, wanting nothing more than to search for answers, unravel the mystery of his soulmate’s first words.
“Something on your mind?” Jason asks, as the attention shifts off of him for a brief moment as Harper and Cullen get ready to leave and everyone rushes to give their goodbyes,
Duke shrugs, carefully keeping his hands still so they don’t drift to where his soulmark is hidden beneath his clothes. “Yeah. Nothing you need to worry about, though.”
Jason looks him over critically, then nods.
Duke resigns himself to being investigated by the rest of the Bats. If he’s off enough that Jason had to comment on it, then that means everyone’s noticed and are trying to figure out what’s happened. They’re not going to ask him, because they think he needs space to work through whatever’s got him so distracted, but they’re also not going to just do nothing.
This won’t be the first time they’ve done this. Duke expects it. Frankly, it would be stranger and much more concerning if they didn’t try to dig up all his secrets the moment they caught wind of him hiding something.
He’ll tell them about getting his soulmark soon. Soulmarks can appear on any birthday between the ages of thirteen to twenty five; they might suspect he got his, but they won’t be able to confirm.
For now, Duke can keep his soulmate’s first words (whatever that gibberish means) to himself.
He makes the decision then and there, as his birthday party winds down, to tell them in a week.
And because his luck is abysmal, a world ending threat hits five days later and suddenly there is no time for soulmarks and first words.
Duke is the last to arrive at the Fortress of Solitude, hitching a ride from Superboy to get there. The biting cold and the harsh winds keep the place far from the reaches of the rest of humanity, surrounded by nothing but deadly white.
Desolate as the landscape is, it’s still in better shape than the rest of the world.
Things would be better if it was alien invaders. It would be more bearable if some sort of cosmic colossus tried to eat their solar system. At least then there would be something physical that they could fight.
Instead, the world is breaking apart, the sky and earth both fracturing to reveal glowing green faultlines. Timelines are getting mixed up and muddled; just yesterday, Duke had to evacuate a building that had been demolished forty years ago, then stop a gang leader who wouldn’t be born for another eight years from taking over a neighborhood block and holding the residents hostage. Strange creatures are appearing out of nowhere, crawling out of shadows and tide pools and from beneath the roots of trees, all horrible, monstrous things that go after people with teeth and claws.
The Flashes and the rest of the speedsters are nowhere to be found. The last time anyone get communication from them, it had been Impulse sending Red Robin a glitchy, barely audible video chat saying something along the lines of “trying to fix—unstable—keep us here—never been alive before.” All things that are very concerning to hear, made worse by the fact that no one had been able to contact them at all.
The quiet loneliness of the Fortress of Solitude is a welcome change from the constant screaming, death, and destruction that’s taken over Gotham as well as the rest of the world. Last he heard, even Justice League China was at the end of their rope.
“In here,” Superboy instructs, guiding Duke through the halls. There’s no time to look around at Superman’s secret base. All his focus is stuck on staying conscious for another few hours to see if this gathering of heroes is able to find a solution to the world breaking apart.
Batman stands besides Superman. Both nod at Duke when he enters the room. Wonder Woman is watching over John Constantine as he writes something on the floor, muttering under his breath. The rest of the Justice League lean against each other, visibly exhausted as they wait for Constantine to finish up what he’s doing. A few other heroes are here too, and Duke goes to join them where they lean against a wall, fighting to keep their eyes open.
“Hey,” he greets, voice low. “Hanging in there?”
Wonder Girl sighs. “Somehow. I don’t know how much longer we can do this. There’s just too much…”
“We’ll get through this. I mean, even without us out there, plenty of civilians have formed rescue and relief groups to help with keeping things under control,” Speedy says, gently knocking her arm against Wonder Girl’s. “We just gotta keep going. No giving up.”
“What’s this plan, anyways? I just heard that they needed me here to some attempt to fix things.”
“Well, without the speedsters, you’re kind of the only one who can help with time and power related stuff,” Speedy says.
“That’s definitely a stretch. My powers don’t really have anything to do with time. It’s all just light and shadow.”
Speedy shrugs. “Well, you’re here, aren’t you? Too late to complain about it now.”
Duke doesn’t get a chance to say anything else when a loud clap catches his attention. The entire room goes still and silent as Constantine stands up and surveys the circle and symbols he’s written, taking up an entire corner of the large room.
“Alright,” he says. “Time to get started. Remember, let me do the talking. If you have to speak, it’s only to back me up or when a question is directed to you.”
Batman nods to the other Justice Leaguers, and suddenly everyone is falling into formation behind Constantine. Duke hurries to join them with Wonder Girl and Speedy, taking a place on the edge of the group where he’s a little closer to the circle than the others.
Constantine begins chanting. His voice is steady though none of the sounds make any sense, refusing to form themselves into recognizable words, and the air the in the room feels heavier. The chalk circle glows a blinding white and Duke can see magic swirling through the air, his power kicking in the let him watch as reality tears and a glowing star in the shape of a boy comes out of it.
Duke blinks, forcing his power down. The hypnotic swirls of magic fade from sight, but the boy still glows, bright and terrible as he floats above the circle and surveys them all. A crown engulfed in blue flame hovers above his head and the fabric of the cosmos is draped over his shoulders as a cape.
Just from presence alone, Duke can tell that this figure is now the strongest existence in this universe. He hopes this boy king is kind; no one, not even Superman, would be able to beat him in a fight.
The boy king opens his mouth and speaks, but it’s not words than comes out. A strange static like sound emerges, but light and almost melodic.
His left hipbone burns.
Duke gasps, hand flying down to it, and the boy king’s gaze snaps to meet his.
The world stands still. No one moves. No one dares to breathe.
And then the boy king drops to the floor and walks out of the circle.
“I thought you said that would hold him!” Batman hisses at Constantine, who is looking more and more distressed.
“It was supposed to! I wrote it specifically to hold the King of the Infinite Realms!”
The boy king glances at Constantine. This time, when he speaks, it’s in smooth English. “Did you name the king in your circle?”
“Yeah, I named Pariah Dark… Bloody hell, you ain’t him, are ya?”
“No,” the boy king smiles, “I’m Phantom.”
The cape and crown fade away, and suddenly it’s not an all powerful, terrifying king standing before them, but a young man with white hair and green eyes who looks Duke’s age. Like he could be any other new generation hero in the room.
“Phantom,” Duke repeats lightly, just under his breath, but it makes Phantom look at him again.
He walks forward, ignoring the other heroes’ aborted attempts to stop him, coupled with Constantine’s frantic back off motion happening behind him. Phantom leaves the circle and the Justice Leaguers behind to stand before Duke, a soft smile on his face.
“Hi,” he says softly, “I dreamed of you.”
“You—what?”
“I dreamed of you. I have for years now. To think that being summoned was what made us meet—” Phantom breaks off into a breathless laugh.
Duke swallows, then drops his had from where it had been pressed against his hip. “So we’re really—? You have my first words too?”
In the corner of his eye, he sees Batman stiffen up. Maybe he should have just told them the day after his birthday, but in Duke’s defense, this is the definition of extenuation circumstances.
“First words?” Phantom repeats, “Is that… Do we have different soulmate connections?”
“I think so. Here, everyone gets the first words their soulmates say to them appearing somewhere on their body.”
Phantom’s gaze darts down to Duke’s hip, then back up. “Oh. I get dreams. Where I’m from, we dream of our soulmates, and the closer we get to meeting them, the more we remember the dreams.”
“And you dreamed of me.”
“I did.”
“As touching as this is,” Constantine interrupts, and Duke gets to watch as Phantom rolls his eyes, “We summoned you here for a reason. Our world is falling apart at the seams and we need someone powerful, from the Realms, to help us fix it.”
“Okay.”
“...What do you mean ‘okay’?”
“I’ll help,” Phantom says.
“Just like that? No deal to be made, no price to be paid?”
“Just like that. I’m not one for deals anyways. If I can help, then I will. But I do want to see what the problem is with my soulmate by my side, if you don’t mind.”
Batman steps in, fixing Duke with a steady gaze, a barely noticeable tilt of his head. “Signal?”
“Yeah I’ll go with him. Of course I will. The sooner the better, in fact, because everything’s gone to shit.” Duke turns to Phantom, taking hold of one of his hands. “It is really bad out there,” he warns, “If you need help—”
“I’ll ask for help from others in the Realms,” Phantom says. “No offense or anything, but if it’s really that bad, I doubt living mortals will be able to do much to fix things. It’s why I was summoned, right?”
“Right. Let’s get to it, then.”
There’s a flash of mischief in Phantom’s eyes, and cheeky grin stealing across his face for a moment, before he says, “Aye aye, captain!” and picks Duke up like he weighs nothing and flies up through the ceiling.
Duke is able to hear everyone’s surprised, panicked shouts before they’re outside the Fortress of Solitude and Phantom is flying them away. He only needs a few directions from Duke before he finds the first of the large fractures in the sky.
“Yikes,” is all he says, which is not a great thing to hear. “I think I know how to fix it, though. We’ll need to do a little investigating as to who, exactly, started messing around with reality, but once we find the source, it’ll be an easy fix.”
“That’s the best news I’ve heard all week.”
“Even better than meeting your soulmate?”
“I haven’t slept for more than four hours all week. Knowing there’s an end in sight beats everything else.”
Phantom laughs, throwing his head back and Duke can’t help but drink in the sight of him, so ethereal and bright and full of life. “Fair enough! Got any ideas as to where we should start?”
“I’ve got an entire crew of detective vigilantes,” Duke replies. He’s not taking any more chances. No more waiting to talk about important things; he messed up by keeping his soulmark to himself, so he needs to make sure everyone meets his soulmate before shit goes south again.
“Let’s go find them, then!”
They take off again, soaring through the skies that are barely holding themselves together.
The world is still ending, and every hero is being stretched thin, but held carefully in Phantom’s arms, racing head first into a solution, Duke can’t help but feel that everything’s going to be alright now.
He’s had enough bad luck. Now, his soulmate with him, bearing the title of King with grace, things are finally starting to look up.
#ghostlights#dc x dp#dp x dc#dpxdc#dcxdp#dc x dp fic#prompt fill#my writing#when its the end of the world but youre soulmate is here and ready to help fix it#meanwhile constantine had gone ON and ON about how dangerous summoning realms beings are#and all the precautions they have to take and how to be specific when making deals etc etc#it was supposed to be only the justice league but with the world ending they wanted their proteges and allies with them in case things#went wrong w the summoning. and with the rest of the bats helping out in gotham and around the east coast#signal gets to join batman. plus hes got his meta powers that could help in the worst case scenario#NO ONE predicated signal and the GHOST KING being SOULMATES#batman leaves for gotham immediately. updates the rest of the team w 'ghost king successfully summoned. he's signal's soulmate.'#and does not respond to ANYONE after dropping that bomb on them lol#they do all get to meet phantom when they join forces to find whatever doomsday cult caused all this#and the world gets saved!!#also. semi related to all this. the speedesters are gone bc time went wacky and they tried to fix things. but then the speedforce kinda#came to life and trapped them. so they have been lowkey eaten by the speedforce bc the speedforce is the true eldritch monstrosity here#anyways. thanks for the prompt!!#working on ur other two prompts now :)
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Bully
alastor x gn!imp!reader
this is part one bc i think i wanna do a smutty part two teehee
Summary: You became friends with Charlie by chance and decide to join the hotel to help! However Alastor is a cruel bastard, and you can’t understand why; he’s just such a little bully. He bugged you while drinking one night and you decide, you’d just leave the hotel; charlie will understand, however Alastor won’t let you.
Warnings: Manipulation im pretty sure, insecurity, drinking, mean alastor (kinda), reader is an imp, alastor try’s to get reader drunk not for nefarious reasons, choking, reader gets held down teehee, swearing, i think that’s it? lmk!!
word count: 3K
You gripped your glass at the bar as the red hellion pranced around you happily like the obnoxious deer he was. “Hello little hellborn.” Alastor hummed, you ignored him continuing to stare into space at nothing. “I’m surprised you haven’t left yet, it’s quite the embarrassment to be born in such a place and be as weak as you are.” Sliding in the seat beside you, he magically made a drink appear in front of him. It was some sort of brown liquor, you weren’t sure what kind. Aside from his cruel tone, his body language was relaxed, arms rested against the warm brown oak coloured bar, occasionally you could catch his coat moving at the back, or his ears twitching softly.
You ignored his stupid prodding, it wasn’t anything new, he wasn’t a fan of you and had no problem letting you know. “So my little imp, how is this evening treating you?” Alastor egged on, leaning toward your slumped over figure. Husk was long gone, relieved of his bartending duties at such an hour, meaning you were left to fend off the giant buck yourself. “Good, how’re you little deer?” You snark back, taking a long gulp of your drink.
Alastor didn’t seem to mind, laughing boisterously with his head thrown back. “My my somebodies sour today. I don’t blame you, a pitiful thing like you? i’d be miserable too.” He let out that annoying goose like, ha ha, that he thought was so coy before taking a swig of his drink. You eyed the clock in the corner, and then sent a glare his way. “Do you ever sleep? Leave me be.” The deer brushed you off, not bothering to respond, he just continued to pick up his drink, take a few sips and put it back down.
You’d met many cruel bastards in hell, but Alastor was the cruellest of all. Which was a shocker to your friends back in the greed ring when you told them. You’d had your fair share of violent run ins with men, so when you professed this one man who’d never put his hands on you, was the worst, they couldn’t believe it, snarking that you were simply being sensitive.
But Alastor was observant and coy, he liked to play pretend happy go lucky but he was calculated in his cruelty. He rooted up your insecurities and then he used them against you, like in crowds of people, in stressful situations, just to embarrass you or make you look crazy; he knew how to pull the strings. The worst part is you could identify it, but couldn’t stop it. You knew what he was doing and he was still able to get to you, and you couldn’t lash out because you were just some Imp from greed who compared nothing to human overlords.
“I didn’t take you for a martyr dear.” Sucking in a breath you tried to remain calm, you knew it was only a matter of time before he spoke something stupid again. “Shush.” It was barely an attempt but at the very least you said something passive. “I think you have a little crush on me.” Eyes bulging you snapped your head towards him in disbelief. Sitting tall Alastor smirked smugly, eyeing you from the corner.
“That’s so fucking juvenile! I never have ever showed any amount of interest in you, and you won’t fucking leave me be Alastor!” You shriek, hands curled in front of you gripping at air as you face him. You could feel the blood rushing through your veins as you screamed at him, and your shoulders tensed with the rage coursing through you. Alastor shrugged a single shoulder, flicking his hand, your glass refilled making you attention get momentarily drawn to your cup.
“I am unsure if that’s true dear. You see, I've been observing certain behaviours for quite some time, and i do believe you have quite the soft spot for me. Who wouldn’t though.” Taking a few large gulps from your cup as you listen to him ramble, you finished with an obnoxious ‘ah’ his ears gently flicking. “Like what exactly? Tell me exactly what you ObSeRvEd, big red.” You mocked his voice tilting your head from side to side, briefly he squinted his eyes at you giving you the impression you’d managed to finally get under his skin a bit. Noted.
“You always avoid my gaze, sometimes, oh my, do you stare, let me see-” His nails one by one came down against the wood of the bar, tapping repeatedly. “Not convinced, I do all those things cause i hate you.” Your face was as flat as your tone, no emotion there whatsoever, but Alastor lazily looked over to you his head tilted ever so slightly.
“You cannot have hate without love my dear.” Had there been booze in your mouth you would’ve done a spit take, thankfully though there wasn’t, instead you slammed your fist against the bar cackling manically. “That’s such bullshit!” The exclamation was loud your voice lifted an octave as you laughed. The deer once again waved his hand refilling your glass and sipping at his own. “It’s true little imp. How can you hate something you never liked to begin with?”
Now that stunted you, your laughing ceased as did your insane thrashing around on the barstool. Your face scrunched as you thought through the words he said over and over. He was right, and that’s what was getting you, technically he was right. “Mm, maybe because it’s annoying.” You finally say with a tone that basically said ‘duh’.
“So you know you hate something before you like it, because it’s annoying?” Alastor repeated voice lifting with false intrigued. You nodded drunkenly gulping down more of your poison in a glass. “How did you feel before you established it’s annoying?” Your lip quirked up, you felt confused at that. You shook your head, head falling towards him, neck stretched slightly. “Nothing because he’s always annoying.”
“Who?” You slapped your hand against your face, either Alastor was playing dumb, or he was. It was obvious to you, that he was that ‘it’ you were talking about. Deciding to not even respond you return to your position. Your hand fiddled with the glass as your eyes danced loosely around the back of the bar as you sat in momentary silence. “You’re not even that hot.” You slurred, mentally noting that you were started to get a little drunk, and to slow down a bit.
Alastor chortled his radio sounding out a laugh track with him. “Please dear, I know plenty of sinners who think otherwise.” Rolling your eyes you put your lips to the glass remarking, “go bug them then,” before taking your drink. Alastor kissed his teeth at you, filling up his glass this time and taking a polite swig.
“I’m just trying to keep you company in your time of need.” You groaned in disbelief, watching as he sipped his alcohol watching you from the corner of his eye. “You should go, especially since you have sooo many people desiring your company.” You mock making exaggerated faces as you spoke, your behaviour wasn’t too out of the ordinary as you were a fairly theatrical demon yourself, but not with Alastor. He was only granted the most minimal aspects of your personality so he couldn’t use anything against you.
The demon quirked his brow, spinning the seat he faced you, one arm on the bar still gripping his liquor. “Oh but I do! So many women and men are just throwing themselves at my feet, so many fans of my broadcast. Oh and if i may, some are quite the sight. I might even say some had my eye,” Resting his head on his hand which had released his cup to rest his head, he stared at you through lidded eyes that told you he was teasing you. You again noticed he was trying to poke you, annoy you, but still couldn’t stop the way your teeth grit and your face crunched, hell even your stomach clenched making the warm alcohol crawl up your oesophagus.
Growling you tipped your glass, bottoms up right? You slapped you cup down empty, though it didn’t stay for long before it refilled itself. “Would you stop filling my fucking up?” You snap, following in suit with turning your body towards him. Your knees brushed against eachother as you spun your chair but you barely cared. “Darling, stop drinking it so fast and I won't fill it.” The way he remarked, throwing his free hand around lazily made you want to rip his face off. “I want to leave, that’s why i’m drinking.”
Checking his nails meticulously, the demon ignored you. Tonight wasn’t the night and you could feel the overwhelming emotions start to ripple up from where you pushed them down, like a tsunami. Thankfully no angry tears fell, and you managed to regain your composure by hiding behind your tilted cup, only getting yourself drunker than you already were, or needed to be. “Why do you care to bother me?” You urged jabbing your chest with your finger.
Surprisingly the radio demon was silent, more silent than ever, no ambient radio, no hum nor scoff, just erie silence. You watch his face stay still, eyes stuck forward, with an annoyed sigh you snapped your fingers in front of his face. His eyes darted down soaking in your drunken state, eyes filled with impatience. A different type of smile took over his face, the look he gave you might be even considered flirtatious, but with Alastor you never knew.
“You’re just so fun to annoy, I get such a kick from watching you suffer!” Scowling you face soured as the tsunami of emotions creeped up again. You stood from your seat, barstool screeching like nails on a chalkboard. You without another word marched away leaving the full cup on the bar. You got to your room thankfully without any bother from the red devil. In your hazy state, you haphazardly tossed various belongings you had on the bed. You were so tired of feeling pathetic and small, you wanted to go back to where you somewhat belong. You wished you were strong like Angel, he’s so much stronger for being able to put up with Val, you can’t even put up with Al without running off, and Alastor’s not as bad.
Tears began to fall in self pity as an avalanche of emotion and memories crashed down on you fueling your erratic packing. Walking into the ensuite bathroom you had, you closed the door and sat on the toilet seat, trying to calm your rapid breaths and calm your heart. Your face burnt and your chest felt tight, this was idiotic, you continually chanted to yourself. Taking a final deep breathe you washed your face in an attempt to sober and cover up the tear tracks. When you left the bathroom you gasped stepping back, fear momentarily flooded your system and quickly fizzled out.
There stood Alastor patiently waiting, hands tucked behind his back beside your bed. “What the hell are you doing?” Your tone was harsh as you barreled further into the room nearing him, finger pointed at him ready to prod at his chest. Before you could speak again, or land your finger on him, he speedily gripped your wrist, drawing your attention up. “Oh hush, dear, always so angry. I just came to check on you after you left so abruptly, and then i heard banging and this awful squeaky sound.” The look in his eyes told you that awful squeak must’ve been your sobs.
“Okay great you checked, i’m good, now leave.” Gently you wiggled your wrist from his hold, and moved it from him and then the door. Alastor hummed flatly, turning he slowly waltzed around your bed looking down at the things that were on it, including the suitcases. “No can do dearie, seems you’re trying to make an escape. That’s quite emotionally immature don’t you think?” You slouched over, grunting at him. You simply decided to work around him, he wasn’t going to talk you out of leaving. Unfortunately you were drunkenly set on leaving, and though Charlie would probably be very upset, you knew she had plenty of support here.
Static fizzled ominously from him as you continued to ignore his presence, ignoring his calls to you, or one off comments about your clothing choices, he even began to materialise right in front of where you were headed making you bump into him. Despite all that, you’d just move around him, and not listen to a word he said. You even began to hum as you folded your clothes. “Darling you are being-” You spun from your position hunched over the clothes, bumping past him you intended to go to the bathroom to grab your toiletries unfortunately that small gesture of rudeness was the snap for Alastor.
Antlers growing in size the demon gripped you from behind and tossed you on the free space of bed. You yelped as you were tossed, landing somewhat softly amongst the things on your bed. Gripping your ankle, you were yanked by him to the edge, his hand coming down to wrap itself around your neck. Leaning over you dials in his eyes he statically hissed at you. It was a sight you weren’t used to seeing, he didn’t even show genuine anger when Mimzy led the loan sharks to the hotels door. You didn’t necessarily feel fear staring up at the ballistic looking animal man, but you weren’t comfortable that’s for sure. You’d been in this position before and unless you die, you more than likely will be again.
Still intoxicated you just limply laid there waiting for him to either break your neck, choke you, or set you free. At this point you didn’t care which happened just that he’d hurry it up. “You aren’t leaving the hotel dear, so when i let you up, you’re going to unpack.” Your looked at him with disgust, his antlers coming back to their original size, his claws retracting soothing your aching neck slightly, and his eyes returning from their dial form. “If this is about Charlie, she won’t mind, i won’t even tell her you did it, now get off.” Your voice came out raspy from his tight grasp, but it wasn’t too painful.
“This isn’t about Charlie.” The words came out punctuated and harsh, like part of him didn’t even want to say it. “Then what is this all about, let me go.” You began to wiggle, raising your hips in an attempt to buck him off, but instead he dropped his hips on top of yours weighing you down. “I don’t know,” He grit angrily, his eyes returning to the wide eye dial. “I have no clue what my particular fascination is with you. The worst part is, you’re tight; why don’t I just leave you be?”
Groaning and lulling your head back, you think to yourself that he’s playing some awful trick. “Oh for fuck sakes Alastor cut the shit!” His neck cracked as his head tilted unhealthily to the side, his face inching closer to yours. He watched you closely, the uncertainty evident in your eyes; he doesn’t blame you for being so weary but he hates it. “Oh my, such crude language,” Tutting softly he brought his face directly in front of yours, lips inches away, eyes locked, there was no room for you to run, he had you pinned and cornered.
You couldn’t help but feel slightly aroused at the way he sat across your hips weighing you down, his hand resting against your neck compared to the original squeeze it had, and his other hand splayed right next to your head to keep himself balanced as he hovered over your face, it was an erotic position in your mind. Instinctively your hands went to his chest attempting to keep distance, but he pushed against it, disregarding any boundary that there was. “How could I change that snappy tone, make you stay, and believe me?” His tone was raised with a false sense of curiosity and cluelessness.
With a deep chuckle that could’ve been a demented giggle, Alastor crashed his lips against yours harshly. You squeaked at the contact of his warm lips against yours, and he quickly darted out a pitch forked tongue taking your breath away in one foul swoop. Despite your brain screeching at you to pull away, kick him, do something! You didn’t, you couldn’t, you were loving every second of him.
He smelt oddly like woodchips mixed with expensive cologne, his lips pressed against yours with hard intent but the way they danced against yours was gentle. His smile stayed put, though it was relaxed, his lips were cracked and rough against yours. His hair tickled your forehead, and around your neck his thumb gently caressed back and forth.
Under all the stimulation of just Alastors being, you completely gave in, melting into the mattress. You didn’t even know how tense you were until your muscles relaxed letting Alastor’s body sink further into you. You hummed softly against him trying to stay at the forefront of your mind instead of losing yourself in him, it was too risky at this point.
Alastor pulled away, your lips glistened with wayward saliva, though the kiss wasn’t too long nor too messy, it still was pretty intense. It seemed Alastor kissed you with frustration as motivation. Your eyes were lidded as you stared up at him as he looked down at you in admiration, the first time he’d ever looked at you softly, at least from what you could recall.
“What happened to being a weak imp?” You asked softly, voice wobbly. Chuckling lowly Alastor had what could be described as a fond smile on his face. “You still are,” Your mouth stretched into a flat line as did your eyebrows. “But, you’re a weak imp i feel called to protect. A weak Imp who can be strong if alongside me.” The demon sounded sly and calculated as he spoke but his face and actions contradict his words; they were soft. Alastor removed his hand from your neck gently cupping your cheek and caressing it as he spoke.
You truly couldn’t tell whether or not he was manipulating you or being honest, but the only way to find out, was to chance it.
#alastor hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel imagine#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel oneshots#alastor hazbin x reader#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel alastor x reader#alastor x you#alastor hazbin hotel#alastor the radio demon#alastor x reader fluff#alastor x reader smut#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin hotel smut#hazbin hotel fluff
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Can't Sleep
MDNI, 18+, NSFW
Pairing: Austin Butler x reader
Warnings: lots of dirty talk, m. masturbation, f. masturbation, humping a pillow
Words: 1.6k
Summary: Austin is in Paris promoting Dune part 2 and he can't sleep in his hotel. He calls his girl to chat and things get dirty real fast. Phone sex ensues.
Authors Note: It's been way too long since I've written for Austin. Something about imagining him rubbin' one out just does something to me. So I thought I'd make everyone else suffer too. You're welcome. Comments & reblogs appreciated!
Enjoy!
He tossed the remote to the other side of the bed defeatedly. Flipping through the few channel options on the hotel tv could only entertain him for so long. Looking over at the clock the red number taunted him showing 4am. Being up for the last almost 36 hours would tire out most people but his body wouldn’t let go of consciousness. The jet lag certainly wasn’t helping either. His thoughts flickered to her. Doing the math in his head; she’d only be at 10pm in New York with Paris being six hours ahead. She should be home from work now. Finished with dinner.
He reached for his phone, quickly finding her in his contacts, before pressing it to his ear. The line crackled before it began to ring. His fingers mindlessly played with the string from the waistband of his sweats as he waited for her to pick up.
“Hello?”
Her voice sounded small and distant through the line and he hated it.
“Y/N, hi,” he rasped.
“Hi.”
A bit of rustling sounded on the other end as she sat up from the couch she was more than likely dosing off on.
“You sound tired,” he said, suddenly feeling guilty, “I should let you sleep.”
“No, no it’s fine,” she assured him, “I think I’m more bored than tired.”
He knew she was lying. She’d fallen asleep on that couch so many times when he’s home with her. Never being able to finish a whole movie without hearing her soft snores as she slept.
He was a little jealous if he was being honest with himself. He was never one of those people that could just pass out as soon as they close their eyes. Even more so if it wasn’t his own bed.
“Have you slept at all since you left?”
He sighed, “no.”
“Aus,” she said sympathetically.
He ran a hand over his face.
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
He hummed, “tell me about your day.”
And she did. From her drive to work to how much the phone rang, how her boss had gotten on her nerves, what she got for lunch, how her feet hurt from her new heels she bought the other day, her drive home, how she had to go back out to get chicken for dinner from the grocery store that she forgot to get yesterday. Every detail she rambled on about, but he didn’t mind. It made him feel less alone. Less like he was on the other side of the world.
“Hey, Austin?”
“Hm?”
“I’m gonna set you down for a sec, I gotta pee.”
He chuckled, “m'kay.”
He heard the clank of her setting the phone down, and he pulled his phone away from him for a minute checking the time. 4:30. At least the time was moving a little faster now.
Putting the phone on speaker, he checked a few emails while he waited when his phone chimed, with her name coming across the banner with a new text.
Leave it to her to text the person she’s currently chatting with.
Clicking on the banner, his phone swapped apps to the text.
But it wasn’t a text.
His heart rate rose as his eyes took in the photo.
She was posed in their bathroom mirror with a black lingerie set he’d never seen her in before. Her phone was in one hand snapping the photo while the other had her thumb through the waistband of her panties teasingly tugging them lower down her hip, hardly leaving anything to the imagination. Her breasts were barely contained in the bra, the cups hardly coming up over her nipples, her flesh pushed together creating ample cleavage.
He swallowed thickly as he felt the warmth of blood rush to his groin.
“You still there, Aus?” She asked feigning innocence.
He cleared his throat, “yea- yea.” He took a deep breath. “What are you-?”
He didn’t have a ton of words flying around in his head given the normal amount of blood that was in his brain was now being utilized elsewhere.
She giggled, “you need a little help getting to sleep, yeah? So I thought I’d give ya a little help.”
God, what did he do to deserve such an angel?
“Right now?”
Was this for now or after she hung up? This was new territory for the both of them.
“If you want?”
He felt her back tracking and he scrambled to steer the conversation back to the desired destination.
“Shit, yeah- yeah,” he shifted on the bed propping some pillows to lean back on as he rested his hand over his semi in his pants giving a little squeeze. “Are you- are you touching yourself?”
He heard her inhale before speaking, “should I be?”
“Please,” he almost whispered.
He ground his teeth, waiting for any sound from her. Something to feed his imagination. He lightly ran the back of his fingers over the tent in his pants, keeping his nerves on end.
A small moan sounded into his ear, and he immediately began to work himself with her.
His heart was pounding already, imagining her with her legs open on the couch, her hand working herself over her panties.
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he breathed, his fingers slipping under the waistband of his sweats.
She struggled to find her voice. She took a breath, “you.”
“Yeah?” He worked at tugging down his pants. “What about me?”
“Aus,” she chuckled nervously, “I- I- don’t know if I can do this.”
He situated himself, slowly wrapping his hand around his length, giving her a moment. She always got a little shy with talking filthy.
Not willing to let the mood wane, he chose to take the lead. “I gotcha, just keep your hands busy for me.”
He heard her begin shuffling around before getting settled.
He sighed lazily, beginning to stoke himself, lightly squeezing on his upstroke. His thumb swiped the tip collecting the bead of precum, spreading it around.
“’m so hard for you right now,” he murmured huskily, his voice heavy with arousal watching his tip disappear into his fist.
A little whimper escaped her, rewarding his words, and boosting his ego.
Letting his eyes close, his mind began to tease him with images of her. Her smooth skin, her hair splayed out behind her. Was she starting slow and gentle?
A sharp inhale brought him back to the present.
“You alright?”
“Yeah,” she breathed. A soft moan followed, melting through the phone into his ear. “I just had to take everything off.”
He couldn't help but quicken his strokes as the sudden image of her legs spread, and center bare on their couch overtook his thoughts.
“Wanted to get more comfortable.”
“Fuck-, are you wet?”
She hummed, “so wet.”
Hearing her pleasured sounds were going to be his undoing.
“Put a finger in for me,” he coaxed her.
“Oh-“ she sighed heavily, “Austin.”
His cock throbbed, imagining how warm and tight she must feel. Her glistening folds wrapping around her little finger.
“Keep talking, Aus.”
He bit his lip as a smug smile threatened to appear. He had her right where he needed her.
“Don’t forget about my girls up top,” he spoke, “give ‘em a little attention for me.”
A full moan left her lips, making his cock twitch. He could practically feel her breaths on his ear. His mind kept conjuring up one filthy image after another. One hand in her pussy, the other groping her breast. Forcing his hand to pause, he squeezed at the base as the sudden urge to release overwhelmed him.
As he willed his heart to slow and the pleasured throbbing in his cock to weaken, a bunch of commotion sounded on her line. He listened intently as it quieted and a rhythmic sound started to come through. He reached down to massage his balls, swallowing thickly, “baby?”
A short whine came from her, sounding distant, before she shuffled the phone closer to her panting mouth, “are you close?”
He let his head fall back into the pillows with a huffed laugh, letting his fingers lightly play at the little sensitive spot under the head. “Just waiting on you, darling.”
He began stroking in rhythm with the sounds coming from her, his limbs tightening as the pleasure began to burn in his pelvis once more, “tell me what you’re doing.”
“I got a pillow-” she gasped, “-between my legs.”
His hips jerked, the primal urge to thrust breaking through his conscious.
“”You ridin’ it, like you do me?” He panted.
She couldn't even manage to string a sentence together anymore, a groan being her only reply.
“Cum with me baby, in 3-,” he began counting them down, “2-,”
Her whines were high causing goosebumps to cover his flesh, his fist flying impossibly quick over his shaft. He never thought further than her using her hand to pleasure herself, but imagining her grinding herself onto a pillow would be a fantasy he would be coming back to many times in the future, he was sure of it.
“Aus,” she cried, desperate for him to put an end to the agony.
“Cum for me,” he growled; a white heat flooding his pelvis.
A squeak was all he heard from her as she climaxed, and his cock suddenly became impossibly harder as the buzz in his veins shot through his tip. His head pressed deep into the pillows as his body tensed as his climax took hold. White spurted over his abdomen as he grunted like an animal with every lurch his cock gave, draining his seed, relieving his desire.
Relaxing his body, he quickly was left limp as he tried to catch his breath.
Minutes passed as they both regained a normal breathing rate.
He picked up the phone, taking it off of speaker, “thank you, baby.”
It wasn't long after they hung up that he was able to finally fall into a sweet sleep.
Need some more Austin smut? Check out my other works! > Masterlist
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80 with kenma please :3
:3
500 follower special: #80 “How can you think I’m anything but hopelessly in love with you?”
kenma x gn reader, probably ooc kenma, insecurities, hurt/comfort, very light angst, not proofread
written content masterlist
It's easy to love Kenma. It's harder to be loved by him.
They've learned over the years that he's not loud with his love. He shows it in little ways, unrecognizable unless you know him. He can sit with them for hours in complete silence, preferring their quiet company to being alone. He buys them small, frequent gifts, presenting each one to them without much fanfare. He lets them wear his hoodies. He's upfront and direct about his relationship status when interested fans question him about it. Kenma's attentive. Loyal. Dedicated.
But Kenma's not the grand gesture type. He doesn't vocalize his love often. He's not generous with physical touch. He likes to sleep soundly on his own side of the bed. He prefers relaxed nights in to extravagant dates. They know he loves them. He's told them so many times, in his own way.
And most of the time, these things don't really bother them. But sometimes, they start to add up, and even though they don't doubt that Kenma loves them, they start to feel like maybe he doesn't really like them.
It's been a long day. Work was difficult and long and taxing. Little things went wrong, and they added up. Small mistakes at work. Tripping on the train. Cracking their phone case. Kenma not responded to their string of texts. Burning their dinner. Cat puke. A headache. Kenma' silence.
It adds up.
And after they had cleaned up dinner and settled back down on the couch beside Kenma, he didn't acknowledge them. He didn't look up from the game in his hands.
And that was just sort of it for them.
They pulled their knees up into their chest, knotted their hands together, and let the thoughts run wild. Because Kenma's hardly spoken to them all day, and is it really that taxing for him to talk to his partner? Do they just not matter as much to him anymore?
It sort of feeds into itself, this sort of thinking. Sour thoughts spread and they can't stop the flow of emotion that makes their chest tighten and their eyes prick.
They press their face against the tops of their knees, trying to make themselves as small as they feel. And they're so caught up in the cyclical sort of thinking they don't notice when Kenma glances up at them from his game, or how the sight of them like that makes him abandon it at once.
So they don't expect it when his arms go tight around their curled up form, pulling them into his lap. "Tell me what's wrong," he says, voice hushed, not urgent but not uncaring.
All they can offer up in response is a shrug, not quite able to form the words. They focus on holding in their breaths, and keeping their eyes dry.
"Take your time," Kenma says, and does not move. He stays there, still and steady, cheek pressed to the top of their head.
A tear spills, and now they feel so stupid. Because of course he loves them, and they shouldn't be expecting more.
They inhale sharply, and try to steady their breathing before they speak once more. "It's dumb, and I know it's not true, but sometimes I can't help but feel like you don't like me," they admit, rushing through the end of their sentence once their voice starts to waver.
Kenma stills. “How can you think I’m anything but hopelessly in love with you?” he asks, and he doesn't say it with any particular passion or intensity. He's not mad or incensed. It's just a question Kenma doesn't know the answer to.
"I dunno," they mumble. "It doesn't bother me most of the time. But you're not an overly affectionate person, you don't always want to talk, and that's okay, I just," the strop, and exhale through their nose, "get insecure without that, sometimes."
It feels wrong to say it out loud, and when the words leave their tongue they almost wish they could take them back and reshape and rearrange them. Kenma doesn't move for a moment, but once he does, he lifts their hand and uses it to smooth out the top of their. "I'm sorry I made you feel that way," he says. "I can get stuck in my own head sometimes, I don't mean to make you feel neglected."
"It's okay, Kenma," they say, and it already feels like some of the weight's been relieved from their chest.
"No it's not," he's quick to counter. "And you don't have to feel bad for wanting affection from me. Especially when it's something I want to give you."
They sniffle, and lean up against him, head resting on his shoulder. "I love you," they tell him.
"I love you," he says, voice now firmer in the declaration, and he places a kiss on the top of their head. "And I like you a lot, too."
an: THESE ARE TAKING ME FOREVER IM SORRY also this one was bad lmafo im so sorry
#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu#haikyuu fluff#hq x reader#hq x you#hq#kenma x reader#kenma x you#kenma x y/n#kenma kozume x reader#kenma kozume fluff#kenma fluff#kenma x reader fluff#kenma kozume x yn#500 follower special
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The Harrington Pattern Part 6
Yay! Another History Nerd Steve!! And I got a shit ton of awesome writing done yesterday so I was able to catch up to omegaverse. But it's looking like this one will finish first. As I think I have one or two more chapters to go on this one (as in past my backlog not past this chapter specifically).
In this chapter we get Eddie being a good dad, Mike getting introspective and Will getting some perspective of his own. And a little bit of Eddie keeping Mike humble for funsies.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5
@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03
****
Eddie gathered Mike and El up and took them outside of Will’s hearing.
“Hey,” he said gently, “I’m not mad at you, okay? But I have to explain something to you both.”
Mike and El looked at each other in confusion. “About what?” El asked.
“About offering to help Will buy the staff,” Eddie said. “It showed that you are kind and generous people who only want to help their friend, but Will does not see it that way.”
“He doesn’t?” El asked.
“When you grow up poor,” Eddie said fiercely, “it is drilled into you that any help at all is charity and should be avoided at all cost.”
Mike and El looked at each other again, their confusion even greater than before.
“But why?” El asked.
“Because supposed ‘well meaning’ people,” Eddie put air quotes around well meaning, “think that when you are poor you don’t deserve good things and gifts like that always come with strings attached.”
“So Will thinks that if we help buy the staff we’re going to ask him to do something that he might not want to do but will feel he has to because we bought him the staff?” El asked in one great big rush.
“Unfortunately, yes,” Eddie said. “Do I think you’d hold it against him? No. But...”
“But when it’s all you know it’s hard to see there is a problem,” Mike muttered looking at his shoes, remembering what had happened only hours before.
Eddie’s expression softened. “The very like.” He gave them a group hug. “Besides Steve’s got it covered.”
Mike and El stepped back, confusion back on their faces.
“What do you mean?”
Eddie huffed out a laugh. “If the staff is still there on Saturday, Steve going to suddenly have ten extra dollars from Joyce that she gave him for Will’s meals that he didn’t end up spending because Will eats like a bird.”
El frowned. “But that would be a lie and friends don’t lie.”
Eddie shrugged. “Is it a lie or is it Steve stretching the truth a little to help a friend. After all your friends have lied for you. Lying to you to make you feel better is something that isn’t going to hurt anything in the long run.”
“I don’t understand,” El said, tilting her head.
“It’s like you could tell Mike he looks hideous in yellow,” Eddie pointed out. “But he wears it because it’s your favorite color. Him wearing yellow isn’t hurting anyone and it’s sweet he’s wearing it for you. So if he asked how the yellow hat looks on him you would say what? That it looks awful or that you love it because you understand the intentions behind it?”
El blinked. “You’re right. Thank you!”
Eddie smiled and began walking back to the table.
Mike started hurrying after him. “But I don’t look hideous in yellow, right? Right, Eddie?”
Eddie just kept walking with his smile turning into a feral grin.
****
Steve smiled at Eddie when he sat back down next to him. He bumped him with his shoulder. “If I’m the mom, you’re their dad.”
Eddie turned bright red and shoved his hair in front of his face. “Shut it.”
Steve bumped their shoulders together. “I think between the two of us we form one half-way decent parental figure.”
Eddie smiled that closed lipped dimpled smile that Steve loved so damn much and he couldn’t help but smile back.
Holy shit was this crush getting wildly out of hand. He just wanted kiss those dimples so, so much.
Across from them Mike raised an eyebrow. He looked between the two older boys and after a moment he made the connection. He thought about it for a moment and decided it wasn’t any of his business as long Steve didn’t take over their DnD time.
And considering how well Steve respected that time as friends with Eddie, he really didn’t think dating would change all that much. Just the level of PDA they would show would change.
Mike continued to watch them to see if they were a couple and hiding it or if they hadn’t gotten there yet.
His consensus? Hell if he knew, to be honest.
But better Eddie than Nancy at this point was all he was going to say on the matter.
They finally were all done with their food and they all split off again. He watched Steve and Eddie go off together and shook his head.
Will tilted his head. “What’s up?”
Mike knew what Will was. Had done for ages now. He just smiled at his best friend. “I haven’t held much stock in there being one person for you in all the world, but you know sometimes you see two people together and just think ‘yeah, I couldn’t see them with anyone else,’ you know?”
Will looked in the direction Steve and Eddie were walking away and nodded. “Yeah, I think I do.”
****
While there wasn’t much to do the kids still came home that night filled with tales of wonder and amazement.
But later that night Will came and knocked on Jonathan’s door.
Jonathan pulled off his headphones and motioned him in.
“Hey, what’s up?” he asked as Will hesitantly stepped into the room.
Will sat gingerly on the bed. “How well do you know Steve?”
Jonathan sighed. “Probably not as well as I should. He was around in the outside of my circle and then we’d only really see each other when the world was ending. Why? What’s up?”
Will twisted his fingers nervously. “What would you say the possibility was of him liking guys?
That brought up Jonathan short. Sure there was a chance that Will was just projecting his hopes for Mike onto the older boy, but this was Will and his little brother was far too perceptive for his own good.
So he gave it some real thought. All the times he saw Steve in high school and around town. All the times they interacted to help save the world. And he was starting get a picture.
Jonathan shrugged. “I suppose it’s possible. It’s hard to tell admiring glances from signs of attraction.”
Will cocked his head to the side. “I don’t know what that means.”
“Would you say Max or Robin were pretty?” Jonathan asked scooting over on the bed to sit next to Will.
Will shrugged back. “I mean, I guess. My friends are attracted to them so they must be.”
“Right,” Jonathan agreed. “Is Mike good looking?”
Will snorted. “Not really, maybe when he’s gotten past the awkward giraffe stage. Steve though...” He ducked his head and blushed.
Jonathan laughed. “Fair enough. I’m not attracted to guys and even I know that Steve is hot.”
“So attraction is more than looks?” Will asked. “Like you can find someone of the opposite that you’re attracted to good looking, but you wouldn’t want to date them or have sex with them?”
Jonathan nodded. “So while it’s possible Steve could be attracted to guys, I really couldn’t be the judge of that. Why do you ask?”
“I think even Mike picked up on Steve and Eddie’s flirting today,” Will muttered.
Jonathan’s eyebrows really did shoot up on that one. If Mike picked up that Steve was flirting with Eddie...
But then again... actually.
“That makes more sense then you realize,” he told Will slowly.
Will straightened up. “What do you mean?” He was really getting tired of asking that phrase at the moment.
“Who would know more about what Steve’s flirting looks like from the outside,” Jonathan said, “then someone who witnessed it with his own sister.”
“Oh. Nancy. Yeah, you’re right that does make sense.” Will blinked away his confusion.
Jonathan smiled. “So did you get the answer you were looking for?”
Will thought for a moment. “I think so. I mean Robin and Eddie have come out to us, but Steve hasn’t.” He paused for a moment. “Though, I think that Steve may have hinted it to me earlier. I told him that I thought Eddie might like him back, but I don’t know if that was enough, you know? For him to come out, I mean.”
“It could be that Steve hasn’t figured it out fully himself,” Jonathan said with a huff of laughter. “Like he might know he has feelings for Eddie, but not what those feelings mean.”
Will nodded. “Thanks, Jonathan. I’ll let you get back to your music.”
“Oh shit!” Jonathan scrambled to stop the tape. He sighed when he realized it was near the end of it. He hit rewind and looked back at Will shaking his head fondly.
“I think you need to lay off the weed, dude,” Will said, getting to his feet.
“Never!” Jonathan shouted after him, but Will had already slammed the door behind him.
****
Mike was lying on his bed looking up at the ceiling. Unlike what he knew was happening in friends houses’, the near constant talking about how awesome their day was, Mike had made an excuse that he was just tired, that he did have fun and couldn’t wait for tomorrow.
In the dark comfort of his own room, he knew they weren’t lies. Not really. He was all three of those things, but he also had a lot on his mind.
Racism and homophobia. He remembered all the awful things he had thrown at Will. All the things he said to Lucas.
He knew his parents were conservative. Whatever the hell that really meant. But they weren’t bad people. His mom had never tried to tell him not to be friends with Lucas or that gay people were evil.
But all the little things were starting to add up. Gay men deserved to die because the disease didn’t affect anyone else and they just weren’t the effort.
But he thought about Will and Eddie. And yeah, maybe Steve, too. Did they really deserve to die just because of how they had sex? That didn’t sit well with Mike. It made his stomach turn uneasily.
Dustin had been right about the Vulcans, they were of different colors, too. So why couldn’t elves? Why were the Drow evil? Was that racism, too? Plus did it even matter?
Almost all the campaigns Mike had been in were what the game makers called home-brew.
Yes, they used the game as the framework, but then colored outside of the lines all the time.
After all, Vecna was just a lore character where only the dude’s hand and eye were left out in the world. But Eddie had taken that lore and turned it into an amazing story.
He got ready for bed and laid back down. He stared up at his ceiling again. He had been a bad friend for years. Ever since El came into their lives, she was his only focus. It was a god damn miracle that they hadn’t thrown him off before now.
There must be something that they still liked. He would just have to figure out what it was and lean into that.
And with that, Mike drifted off to sleep as tried to figure out ways to keep his friends.
****
Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13
Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @customization @danili666 @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @thespaceantwhowrites @paintgonewrong @mogami13 @beelze-the-bubkiss @croatoan-like-its-hot @retro-vagabond @sani-86 @pansexuality-activated @y4r3luv @dauntlessdiva @vampire-eddie-brain-rot
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can you pls write something where reader says i love you first and trent is surprised but super happy and he says it back
the 'L' word [ T.A.A ]
pairing: trent alexander arnold x fem!reader
summary: in a rush , you leave trent in slight shock with more than just the usual goodbye.
genre(s): established relationship, fluffff !!!
[wc: 1.6k] masterlist
notes: this is such a cute request I'm dyinggg. if there's one thing that I love more than the one-bed trope, then it's casual and unexpected love confessions.
eight letters. eight letters, yet it held so much meaning.
you never liked throwing the saying out so casually, especially to people. it never really managed to roll off your tongue as easily as it did for others- heck you still called it the 'L-word'.
there were a handful of people you have said it to of course, your parents, your siblings, and every other fictional character you felt yourself falling hopelessly for but there was never any other reason to hand it out.
you often had your friends say it to you, so casually as if it meant nothing- and that was the issue. to you, it meant everything. it wasn't just a phrase or an affectionate affirmation. to love someone, you believed that the weight of it had to be felt in your core.
that you'd find yourself at your utmost vulnerability to the point where you were certain that you'd never regret saying it, or even feeling it. and that was all thanks to your grandmother when you were at the ripe age of 7
"don't you go throwing that around now just because barney said you could. love is not just a word. it's a declaration and--"
"mum, she's 7. you cannot be putting this in her head when she barely knows the difference between left and right," your mother complained but you continued to look up at your grandmother with intrigue.
your grandmother scoffed and lazily gestured to the t.v. "tell that to that damn dinosaur."
a declaration. now you're not saying that you didn't deem anyone worthy of your love, you'd show it in many ways— but saying it was something else.
so when you left your boyfriend's house that afternoon to see to an emergency (your friend mia had just been broken up with) and you saw how trent's expression dropped knowing that you weren't able to come to his match, your heart strings were tugged like never before.
you'd been together for a year and a bit but it felt like you've been together since the beginning of time and it could confidently be said that this was the first match of his at home, that you were going to miss. of course, it saddened you, and there was the slight reconsideration but this was one of those times where you knew where you had to be.
you looked at trent with a softened gaze as you stood in the hallway, ready to leave. "I'm sorry baby, you know that I wouldn't miss any of your matches for the world."
there was a slight pout on his lips and you couldn't help but melt at how adorable he looked at that moment. "you're killing me here," you said with a smile and pulled him into a hug— huge mistake seeing as you were already struggling to leave.
a feeling of warmth spread through your chest when he wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his head in the crook of your neck, pressing a kiss there every so often. "no I understand," he muttered, but the slight disappointment was evident in his voice and that hit you like a truck.
it was subtle moments like this that you cherished the most. moments where trent didn't hide his feelings and made it obvious that he didn't want you to leave. when you two first started dating he was rather lacklustre and preferred to keep his thoughts to himself.
it would leave you wondering if he actually liked you, or if you were being too much by expecting him to say "I miss you" or be openly affectionate and make it known that he wanted you around. but after three confusing months, he started to ease in and let his feelings be and show you that he cared.
for instance when he gets home from practice and doesn't say anything and immediately comes to hug you, or join you on the couch just to relax. or when he sits on your bed while you're working just to be near you, because your presence genuinely matters to him.
the moment of silence was interrupted by your phone ringing, which was an immediate sign that you had to hurry.
"I told you that her boyfriend was a piece of shit but mia didnt listen. his name is literally kyle babe," trent stated with a raised eyebrow and reluctantly pulled away from you so that you could finally leave.
you hummed in response and gave him a small smile, "love makes people irrational and stupid."
somehow that brought a smile to trent's face, a look of adoration in his eyes as he leaned in to kiss you. "no wonder I'm such an idiot."
oh, dear god.
he caught your lips before you could even manage to think of a response. your cheeks flushed immediately accompanied by a swarm of butterflies and the thought of nothing else but him. your brain practically short circuited the second you felt his lips meet yours with so much tenderness.
the feeling was incomparable- his hand cupping your cheek while the other pulled you closer to him in hopes that you wouldn't ever leave him, the way your heart skipped a beat when you felt his lips tug up into a smile and especially the way he looked at you when he pulled away.
the moment you took to catch your breath you lost your train of thought just by looking into his his eyes that held so much adoration and affection for you. just one look and you were ready to give him every bit of you for the rest of your life.
you were happily drowning in absolute bliss.
you bit back a smile to stop yourself from looking like an idiot and gave him one last peck on the cheek and opened the front door, turning to look at him one last time. "you're going to be amazing today and make me proud okay?"
oh how much trent loved it when you said things like that. it had him weak in the knees and smiling from ear to ear. "yes ma'am."
you rolled your eyes at the comment with a scoff and finally walked out, absolutely out of your mind and lost in the feeling of utter bliss. "shut up, I love you so much bye."
you immediately shut the door and trent's heart dropped to his stomach.
he didn't get to say it back.
during the full 90 minutes that's the only thing he managed to think about. the fact that he didn't get to say "I love you" back.
not because he didn't— it was blatantly obvious to everyone who knew him that he was head over heels in love with you. everyone but you knew. and he hated that you didn't know, or are least he though so.
just like you, he'd show it in the things he does for you, the gestures, the constant reassurance and reminders that he's proud of you no matter what you do. but he's never said it for the mere reason that he was scared.
he knew how much it meant to you, and the thought of scaring you away was the last thing he wanted. if it weren't for that, then he would've shouted it from the rooftop the minute you said yes to being his girlfriend.
but he didn't have a rooftop right now, and you weren't here. what he did have however was a live broadcast with over 40 000 people at the stadium and confirmation that you were watching the match from mia's house because like you said, you wouldn't miss it for the world.
he was barely listening to what the interviewer was asking him, just nodding along with nothing but the thought of kissing you until you were both out of breath when he got home.
he tapped his fingers at his side and tried to form a response to the question about their win, seeing as his mind was elsewhere but played it safe and gave the interviewer an answer that wasn't too vague. but then again wasn't "I'm proud of everyone, we played extremely well despite the few injuries and I'm glad we were able to take tonight's win." enough??
"and how about your goal? that corner was amazing and had everyone's jaws on the floor."
he completely forgot about that to be honest. the goal slipped his mind entirely, but he did remember what he thought about at that moment, with a smile beaming from the pitch. you.
he gave a tight-lipped smile. "I was just as surprised, to be honest, but I'm glad that it stirred some excitement," he chuckled and continued to listen to the interviewer who managed to bring you up.
"this is the first time in over a year that your girlfriend wasn't able to make it to a home match, that must've made you feel a bit upset?"
"uh," he trailed off trying to find the words. "she had an emergency but I know she's watching from home so that brought me some comfort, so she wasn't gone entirely."
the interviewer smiled at him and he knew what question was next. the one he'd been waiting for all evening. "is there anything you want to say to her then?"
hell yeah there was.
"first of all, I was right about kyle and you should listen to me more, second, that goal was entirely for you. something to brag to your friends about, and last but not least--" trent took a deep breath, unable to stop himself from smiling from ear to ear with a heart full of warmth, "--i love you more."
#footballer imagine#trent alexander arnold fluff#liverpool fc#trent alexander arnold x reader#footballer x reader#liverpool x reader#fanfic#footballer x you#football imagine#trent alexander arnold fanfic#cherrei writes
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MASC ON [e. williams]
pairing high school au!ellie x fem!reader
summary being the new girl in school meant walking in to projects smack-dab in the middle of the year. but when you get assigned to work with the masc girl who sits next to you, there’s no hiding your blatant attraction toward her…and maybe she can’t hide her’s either.
warnings ellie and reader are 18 here (seniors in high school) !! kissing, pining (this is literally just fluff and i wanted an excuse to write for flashback el)
wc 3.9k
note this is incredibly self-indulgent and took me an embarrassing long amount of time to actually write i apologize (title inspiration from the song mask off by future)
“this is so stupid.”
ellie’s complaint compelled you to roll your eyes, a redundant sigh escaping you. “i heard you the last three times you said it.”
your deskmate slumped against the side of her bed, nimble fingers fidgeting with a slightly chewed pen as she watched you create a rough outline of the halle comet on a large poster board—she thought it was more entertaining than trying to gather the essential information your teacher had required to be provided. you could feel her eyes observing every flick and stroke of your pencil as you struggled to copy the image from your laptop.
the task had deemed itself to be more complicated than you thought, and after one more final attempt, you tossed the writing utensil to the side in frustration. “this is so stupid.”
snorting at your disgruntled attitude, ellie reached for the pencil. “how about this; i’ll draw and you get the stats. i’m dying of boredom over here.” she shuffled closer before you could object, shoving her textbook your way.
not bothering to argue, you grabbed your backpack and started to sift through the supplies you had brought along to her house. markers, pens, pencils, scissors, binder…
removing your binder from your bag you flipped it open, only to be met with other assignments and notes from varying classes. groaning, you said over a shoulder, “ellie do you have notebook paper?”
“yeah—top drawer of my desk,” she answered without looking in your direction, her short hair falling to cover the side of her face.
nodding to yourself, you shoved your things back in your bag and stood, making your way toward her desk. it was rather cluttered, which didn’t shock you in the least, but still organized in probably a way only ellie would understand.
you grabbed the first drawer’s handle and gently pulled, exposing the mess that was inside. grumbling to yourself about how ellie couldn’t possibly be able to find anything in this chaos, you began to poke through her things. managing to spot a spare journal—which you noted was not looseleaf paper like you had asked—you carefully maneuvered the notebook out from underneath all of her art supplies.
hip-thrusting the drawer shut, you flipped the journal open, eager to get on with the research you did not want to do, simply to get this project over with. but as you overturned lined pages, you came to realize this was a sketchbook—and you were the starring subject.
“ellie,” you called, eyes trained on a drawing of you slumped over a book in the school library (you recalled this day rather vividly).
the auburn-haired girl finally looked up from her spot on the carpeted floor. she quickly realized what was in your hands. “shit,” she couldn’t help but mutter in panic. ellie rushed to her feet, already reaching to take the sketchbook from you. “sorry, you weren’t supposed to-”
you said her name again, interrupting her explanation with “you would’ve saved me a lot of time had you been the one to draw that ridiculous comet from the get-go.”
ellie’s arm fell to her side, and she tried to calm her racing heart with a deep inhale. she scratched the back of her neck sheepishly, invisible strings tugging on the corners of her mouth when she realized you weren’t pissed at her. “yeah, i guess you’re right.” she paused before adding, “you’re a really shitty artist.”
your eyes flickered to hers immediately, and you snapped the journal shut before smacking her left upper arm with it. “hey! i tried my best, okay? we can’t all be as talented as you.”
“got that right,” ellie mused, her familiar easygoingness making a return. she stuck a hand out. “can i please have my sketchbook back?”
you kissed the back of your teeth, giving her a look of contemplation as you hugged the object in your hand a little closer to your chest. “mm, i don’t know. i was thinking about going through it some more. i mean, i barely got to see anything.”
ellie’s eyebrows shot up. “seriously?”
“seriously,” you told her with a nod, taking a step closer to the desk behind you.
her hand dropped, and you swore that something flashed across her face, but before you could identify what it had disappeared. maybe i’m pushing it, you thought suddenly, growing aware of the way you were holding onto something that she probably poured her heart and soul into.
across from you, ellie adjusted her stance before shrugging. “alright. have fun, i guess. i just need it back tomorrow by 6th period.”
you blinked at her words, dumbfounded by her compliance. watching her return to the poster board on the floor, you held the little journal closer, already making note of what you would be doing later when you returned home.
ellie liked to draw you. she supposed it was rather obvious, but seeing the way your eyes widened as you observed her drawings made her second guess. had she really not been that apparent? she guessed not. and while she was excited to let you take her sketchbook home, she was more nervous.
it was very hard to sleep that night, and only when the small illuminated numbers on her alarm clock struck two a.m. did she finally manage to doze off.
“you look a little…rough,” dina said, cringing at her own word choice.
ellie ran a hand through her hair as she walked beside the shorter girl. “thanks. i hadn’t noticed.”
dina ignored the jab. “i can’t believe you actually gave it to her. hell, you never even let me touch that thing…and you’ve only known her for, like, two weeks! i am feeling a little betrayed, but it’s whatever.”
“letting her look at it just…felt right? i don’t know how to explain it. she doesn’t seem like someone who’d become suddenly disgusted by me drawing her way before we ever started talking,” ellie confessed, spotting the door to her earth and space class.
“ouch.” dina grabbed ellie’s arm, pulling her to an empty wall. “first of all, i wouldn’t be disgusted by you if i was her. secondly, stop being nervous. there’s no need for all of that.”
“i’m not nervous,” she objected immediately.
the brown-eyed girl stared blankly at her. “yes, you are. you’re more fidgety than normal. just go in there, sit down, and wait for her to walk in. you said she normally gets to class practically right before the bell rings?”
“yeah, she comes from the other side of the building.”
“perfect! now go.” dina shoved her friend in the direction of the classroom, waving her off with a smile.
sighing through her nose, ellie entered the room, greeted her teacher, and visibly sagged when she noticed you weren’t in your seat yet. there’s still some time, she thought to herself, not realizing that you had walked in behind her until you said:
“hey, el, you’re kinda in the way.”
you watched as ellie turned to face you, her eyes wide as she whirled. “you got here fast,” she stated bluntly.
shrugging, you moved past her to walk toward your desk. as you sat you said, “class was in the library today since they were using our room for testing.”
ellie nodded from in front of you, still standing. you noticed how aloof she was acting. “are you gonna sit?” you asked, gesturing to the desk beside you.
“yes,” she said hastily, pulling back her chair. she landed with a thud. slouching against the back of her seat, she looked at you and continued, “you brought the poster in, right? this morning?”
your mouth pressed into a thin line. “yes, ellie, i brought the poster in. but we’re not presenting today anyway, so had i forgotten, we’d still be okay.”
“god, that is such a relief,” she sighed, leaning her head back to stare at the speckled tile ceiling and roll her tense shoulders.
“agreed,” you breathed while hauling your bag into your lap. unzipping it, you pulled out the familiar brown journal. “here. back to you before 6th period. just like you said.”
ellie took her notebook cautiously, setting it on her desk as she glanced at you.
“why’re you looking at me like that?” you asked skeptically, lowering your voice to a whisper as your teacher started class at the front of the room. “if you didn’t want me to take it then why did you give it to me in the first place?”
the girl beside you shook her head, leaning her body closer. you stared at the outline of her tattoo as she said, “i wanted you to take it. i’m just nervous that you look at me differently now.”
your eyebrows shot upward, both taken back and confused by her answer. “why would i even-” you turned to face her. “ellie, i don’t look at you ‘differently’ because you draw me. i think it’s rather sweet, actually.”
ellie was bewildered by your words, recalling what dina had said earlier about how she would have loved it if she were drawing her. maybe she had been right. licking her chapped lips, she shifted in her seat, as if she were going to say something, but snapped her head to the front when the teacher said her name sternly.
“miss williams i need you to pay attention, please. this has to do with the project, and i will not be happy when you decide to ask me something i already explained to the class,” the man up front lectured, making both you and ellie sit a little straighter in your seats.
you sent ellie an apologetic look when she glimpsed in your direction. as your teacher moved on from his scolding, you grabbed her sketchbook from her desk and flipped it open to a clean page, pen in hand.
meet me at my locker after school? you wrote quickly, pushing it over for her to see.
ellie grabbed the writing utensil you gave her. i have basketball practice after school :(
frowning, you exaggerated a sigh, shooting a playful eye roll her way as you scribbled out a reply. then i’ll come by the locker room after practice. there—problem solved.
problem solved. ellie wrote back with a grin, nodding at your solution.
“i am incredibly stupid. what was i even thinking?”
jesse was quick to shoot down your self-loathing, his shoulder brushing up against yours as he walked you in the direction of the girl's locker room. “no, you’re not. you were bold. there’s a difference.”
you pressed your lips into a thin line, cheeks slightly puffing out before you kissed the back of your teeth. anxiously running a hand over your face, you said, “well…is there really?”
“yes,” your friend quipped.
rolling your eyes, you shoved jesse jokingly as someone came walking out of the locker room. you instantly recognized dina in her cheerleading outfit, a knowing smile making its way onto your lips. the girl from your history class had always been super friendly.
“dina!” you called, earning a low groan from jesse.
the cheerleader grinned immediately, though you recognized its falter when she spotted her ex by your side. “hey! what’re you doing in the athletic building?” she made a show of not acknowledging jesse.
“i’m here for ellie!” you told her with a toothy smile, fidgeting with the straps of your backpack.
dina’s eyes widened with realization, but her bubbly appearance didn’t feign. she pointed a thumb toward the door she had come out of. “oh! she’s the last one still in the locker room, which i suppose you might’ve already known?”
shaking your head, you said, “yeah, i told her i’d meet her after basketball practice had finished.”
“well don’t let me keep you here then,” dina exclaimed, stepping out of the way to the door with the tiny woman’s symbol on it.
you nodded as you stepped past her, only looking over your shoulder to say, “i’ll see you guys tomorrow!”
“yep!” dina confirmed.
jesse shot you a reassuring grin as you disappeared into the dimly lit hallway that hosted the coaches’ offices.
heart beginning to race, you pulled the door handle to the locker room and forced your legs to move. the fluorescent lights were harsh against your eyes, your chest constricting with nerves as you walked past bathroom stalls, sinks, and floor-length mirrors. you couldn't remember the last time you had been in a locker room.
finally coming up on the athletic lockers (they were on a completely separate wall from the regular physical education lockers), you started to hear shuffling.
“ellie?” you called out, trying your best to not sound like you wanted to abandon this idea entirely.
as you passed a few more of the athletic cages, you spotted the girl you were searching for. her lack of a shirt made you balk.
turned toward the lockers, ellie passed a towel through her wet hair, arms tense with movement. you admired the taunt muscles of her back, her damp skin littered with small, but visible, freckles.
she hadn’t noticed your presence.
you cleared your throat promptly, offering her a smile when she turned around. trying not to be distracted by her toned arms and abdomen, you said, “hi ellie. hope i didn’t catch you at a bad time?”
she shook her head, mouth curling into something between a genuine grin and a satisfied smirk. “hey…and no, you caught me at a really good time, actually. practice ended about 45 minutes ago.”
nodding, you took a few steps closer. “yeah, i know. i asked a friend when practices normally end. figured me being a little ‘late’ would benefit. didn’t want to catch you before you had time to shower.”
“ouch,” she said, reaching to grab for her dirty practice t-shirt in her locker. ellie looked over her shoulder as you halted.
something about the way her eyes glinted made you deadpan, “if you throw that at me i will turn around and leave right now.”
chuckling to herself, ellie shook her head. “calm down, i’m not throwing anything at anyone.” she dramatically put the shirt and a pair of folded athletic shorts in a drawstring backpack before shoving it back into the locker.
“you are so annoying,” you snapped at her, moving to sit on the wooden bench placed directly in the middle nook of lockers. as you sat, you caught a whiff of sharp mahogany and cheap cologne.
ellie’s eyebrows raised, her shoulders leaning to press against the cool metal behind her. “and yet here you are, going out of your way to meet me in the back of the locker room after school.”
part of you was certain she made emphasis on the phrase ‘back of the locker room.’
shooting her a glare, though, you straightened as you said, “i said you were annoying, not that i didn’t like you.” there was a pregnant silence before you added, “besides, i wanted to ask if you wanted to go get coffee with me.” you watched ellie’s lips pull back in disgust, your heart dropping in an instant. “or not. sorry, i didn’t-”
“how about we go get dinner instead?” she interrupted. “coffee’s disgusting and i’m starving.”
blinking at her words, you licked your lips. “yeah. yes. that works.” it took you a moment to regain your composure. shit, i almost blew that. “i didn’t know you hated coffee.”
ellie turned and grabbed a hair tie. as she put half of her hair up—somehow in the most attractive way you might add—she said, “oh, yeah. that shit is gross.”
“um, have you even tried it?” you asked doubtfully, mouth forming into a frown. when the auburn-haired girl stayed quiet and instead clasped a thin silver chain around her neck you guessed her answer was clean no.
you scoffed as you nudged her sock-covered foot. “i’m going to force you to try mine the next time i bring some.”
“sounds great,” ellie said sarcastically, a grin tugging on her lips. her smile sent chills sprawling down your spine.
shrugging off your backpack, you set it by your feet, muttering out a barely audible, “fuck.” you had no idea where this conversation was going, and your attempt at asking her out on a date had been a bust…sort of?
ellie had declined coffee and suggested dinner, but it still sounded like it fit more under the category of ‘hangout as friends.’ talking to her was sometimes like talking to a brick wall. masc’s are so fucking clueless, you thought, releasing a heavy sigh through your nose. or maybe i’m not being obvious enough?
“what?” she asked at your suddenly agitated (as she’d describe it) attitude, wetting her chapped lips as she went to sit next to you. lifting a leg over the bench, she sat, body facing yours as she man-spreaded for comfort—her proximity and stature reminded you that she was still very much shirtless…and somehow way better at this (you weren’t sure what this even entitled) than you were.
goosebumps spread across the skin of your upper arms. you shifted, pulling up a knee to rest on the wood as you trailed off, eyes avoiding hers, “you’re just so…”
her head tilted, eyes narrowing as she leaned closer. there was no way she didn’t notice the way you sucked in a breath. “i’m so what? look at me when you talk,” she said.
your gaze snapped toward hers, but first flickered to the swell of her mouth.
“i’m so what?” she repeated, her voice lowering an octave. when you said nothing, she added, “cat got your tongue?”
between her teasing and the adrenaline coursing through your body, you were compelled to do the only thing you could think of to shut her up—to make her drop the questions. swallowing the lump building in your throat, you grabbed her face, thumbs pressing against her warm cheeks, and kissed her with unmistakable want.
although ellie hadn’t expected for you to be so physically direct, she did not mind it at all. following the rough pace you had set, she kissed you back with just as much ferocity, her fingers slipping into the belt loops of your jeans to slide herself forward and you closer.
you mewled at her movement, the pressure between your thighs growing as intensely as you were kissing her. she was quick to regain control of the situation you had thrust upon her.
“ellie,” you mumbled against her mouth, your eyes half-shut as she tugged on your jeans a second time.
“come here,” she told you hastily, lips trailing toward your left ear. “sit on my lap.” she kissed your temple. “please.”
shuddering at her request, you wasted no time in pulling away, pushing yourself off the bench, and situating your legs over hers in a straddle position.
the heat from ellie’s skin seeped through the fabric of your shirt, her hands slipping past the hem. you found yourself arching instinctively to her venturing touch, your stomach twisting into tight knots.
“you are going to make me go insane,” she confessed, her words coming out in a whisper, leaning in to kiss you again. her lips were gentler against yours, eager to savor the moment.
in turn, you indulged in letting your palms trace the sculpted muscles of her arms, fingers trailing every dip and curve from her years of work in the weight room. “you are so beautiful,” you told her delicately, relishing the way her skin burned under yours.
ellie followed the compliment, her hands finding your face and forcing you to look at her. green eyes etched with something between lust and admiration, she thumbed a corner of your mouth. “do you have any idea what you do to me?” she whispered. “from the moment you walked into that classroom…”
her words died in her throat and she swallowed thickly as you shook your head. “don’t do that. not here.”
“do what?” she questioned, adjusting her position on the bench.
the friction between your legs forced you to release a shaky breath, and you licked your lips in an attempt to focus on bringing your thoughts into coherent sentences. she was making it extremely hard. “i want to talk about this over dinner,” you told her hoarsely. “about what we are now. about what you want us to be.”
“are you saying you want to go on a date?” she asked quietly.
you couldn’t help your sudden smile. “i asked you earlier when i mentioned coffee, but you instantly shut that idea down.”
ellie rolled her eyes, though you could sense her pang of guilt. “you weren’t very clear on the date part. otherwise, i would’ve said yes immediately.”
surprise feigned your features. “you? saying yes to a coffee date?”
“oh, ha-ha.” she exaggerated the fake laugh. “and yes, had i known you were asking me out i would've sacrificed my comfort for your enjoyment. honestly, i think i do that quite often—as of right now i think my tailbone is being bruised.”
you sucked in harshly, moving off her with urgency as you shoved her shoulder with a hand. “why didn’t you say anything?!”
“and risk not feeling you up? yeah, no thanks.” her tone was definite.
your jaw fell slack as you crossed your arms over your chest, confounded by her response. “you can still feel me up without me in your lap, dummy.”
“yeah, but that sounds less fun,” ellie teased, holding up her hands in defense. she stood from her seat, reaching around you to grab her baseball t-shirt from earlier. as she put her arms through the sleeves she said, “i have a game tomorrow. you should come watch.”
you scrunched your nose jokingly, deciding to use her words against her. “and see you all sweaty? yeah, no thanks.”
ellie straightened out her shirt, shooting you a rather bemused look in the process. “how do you know you won’t like seeing me all sweaty and worn out?”
as she hunched down to pull on her converse, you exhaled heavily, unable to come up with something witty. mainly because she was right. you would totally like to see her all sweaty and worn out. so, with a slight bruise to your ego, you itched your nape, mumbling out, “i never said i wouldn’t like that. you always assume shit about me.”
“and you always assume shit about me, so we’re even,” ellie shot back, standing back up. she grabbed her backpack from inside the locker before changing the subject. “where do you wanna go for dinner?”
you shrugged, reaching down for your own bag. swinging it over a should, you said, “i don’t know. whatever you want. and you’re right, i do assume shit about you. like right now, for instance, i’m assuming you’re a picky eater.”
“i am not a picky eater.” she shut down your claim with a light kick to your shoe. “and fine, i’ll pick something and surprise you. did you drive to school today?”
you shook your head. “no.”
“great, looks like you’re sticking with me then.” she tried and failed to hide her cheeky smile. closing her locker, she grabbed your hand, hastily leading you toward the main hallway of the locker room. “come on.”
trailing after her, you felt your cheeks heat with the prompt realization of your reality. maybe you’d have to thank your earth and space teacher for assigning that stupid comet project. the steady growth of your relationship with ellie made your insides twist with pure excitement, and as she rambled about how much you would enjoy her restaurant of choice, you couldn't help but succumb to the feeling of pure bliss.
#ellie williams#ellie williams x reader#ellie x reader#tlou x reader#tlou#tlou2#tlou ellie#tlou imagines#ellie williams tlou#ellie tlou#ellie williams x female reader#the last of us x reader#the last of us#the last of us part two#the last of us part 2#the last of us part ii#wlw#sapphic#the last of us ellie#the last of us oneshot
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Kny + Taking care of your injuries
• Ft: Tanjiro Kamado, Inosuke Hashibira, Zenitsu Agatsuma, Genya Shinazugawa, and Tokito Muichiro
•Summary: What do the Kny boys do when you get injured by a demon?
•Warning: blood, mention of open wounds, swearing
•P.S: for every character/scenario reader is the same age as character.
• He immediately rushes to your side.
• “Try to stay focused, I’m sure your senses will come back to you!” Tanjiro reassured trying to cheer [Name] up, but then quickly focusing back on the fight.
“Thanks Tanjiro!” [Name] said as he flashed a quick smile at his boyfriend, then quickly focusing on the demon in front of him.
The demon was strong, strong enough to injure [Name]. Usually, [Name] could’ve avoided the demons attack, but since his senses were off he wasn’t able to.
[Name] let out a yelp, as he quickly fell to the ground. “Shit!” [Name] yelled, as he quickly got up and decapitated the demon, then went sat down on the ground. His face wincing in pain.
“[Name]!” Tanjiro yelled to his boyfriend. He quickly rushed to him, a string of comforting words escaping his mouth.
“It’s okay Tanjiro the wound isn’t that bad.” [Name] said trying his best to reassure the panicking boy. “I can use a breathing technique to stop the bleeding!” [Name] said while putting on a soft reassuring smile on his face.
After Tanjiro calmed down a bit he quickly put [Name] on his shoulders, ready to take him to the butterfly estate.
“Stay with me [Name].” Tanjiro whispered hoping [Name] heard him.
“I will, I promise” [Name] quickly said back.
• He senses right away.
•At first he thinks your wound not that serious.
[Name] let out a yelp as he fell to the ground. “Fuck!” [Name] shouted, as he put his hand over his wound.
“[Name]!” Inosuke yelled, he quickly beheaded the demon in anger, then rushed to his boyfriends side.
“This hurts like hell” [Name] said, a small smirk appearing on his face as he winced in pain st his wound.
“You better fucking stay with me, I swear to fucking god [Name].” Inosuke said trying his best not to panic.
“I don’t plan on dying!” [Name] replied back with a huge grin on his face, trying to make his boyfriend put on a smile.
“I knew that!” Inosuke boasted, as he picked up [Name] and went to go find help for his boyfriend.
“You’ll get all healed up soon, i promise.” Inosuke whispered in [Names] ear.
“All thanks to you!” [Name] smiled, giving his boyfriend a peck on his cheek.
• He hears the sound of flesh being torn and the sound of an scream.
• It was a scream from a really familiar voice.
“[Name]?” Zenitsu yelled out, hoping to get an answer. However, there was no answer. The good thing was Zenitsu could still hear the sound of his boyfriends heart beating.
“Zenitsu?” [Name] softly called out, as he gasped for air, trying to stand up attempting behead the demon.
At this point Zenitsu was about to burst into tears, seeing his boyfriend struggle like that was just to much to bear.
Zenitsu quickly beheaded the demon, then quickly rushed to [Name’s] side.
“No [Name] you lay down, I’ll see if i could get help for you” Zenitsu reassured the boy, while applying pressure to his wounds.
“Thank you Zenitsu” [Name] thanked, giving the boy a soft smile, making Zenitsu’s heart melt.
“I’m sorry I let you get hurt like this.” Zenitsu said as he wiped the tears out of his eyes.
“It’s not your fault.” [Name] replied back as he wrapped his hands around Zenitsu’s waist bringing himself closer to the boy.
• He goes into complete panic but he doesn’t show it.
• He shoots the demons head off the immediately rushes to your side.
[Name] let out a string of cuss words underneath his breath, as he put his hand over his wound.
“The wound is deep, we gotta get you do a doctor, or at least the butterfly estate” Genya whispered to his boyfriend.
“It’s gonna leave a really badass scar though!” [Name] excitedly back flashing a huge grin at Genya.
[Name] always turned a serious situation like this into someone that could make the two boys smile. That’s something Genya loved about him.
“Yeah it will won’t it?” Genya smiled, leading to the two boys giggling.
Genya picked up [Name] and quickly rushed to the butterfly estate so his boyfriend’s wounds could be treated.
Though Genya still felt worried at the fact that [Name] had a really deep wound, something bad could happen to him.
“Nothing’s gonna happen to me i promise.” [Name] told Genya reassuring the boy.
“Well you better keep that promise, okay?” Genya replied back all his worries going away.
• Notices really quick.
• Tells you what you should do to stop the bleeding, so he could quickly fight off the demon and attend to you.
As soon as he beheads the demon he rushes to your side.
Seeing [Name] wince in pain made him feel some sorta way, he couldn’t describe the feeling but all Muichiro knew is that he wanted that feeling to go away.
“You need to relax [Name].” Muichiro calmly whispered to his boyfriend, the fourteen year old boy immediately relaxing after hearing his boyfriend’s soothing voice.
“Good, this is gonna hurt a bit, but you have to get up.” Muichiro followed, as he helped [Name] get up.
[Name] let out a soft sigh as he leaned on Muichiro’s body.
“This really sucks.” [Name] complained, as he used Muichiro as support for his injured body. [Name’s] body was swaying left to right, as he struggled to stand up still for even a second.
[Name] placed a small peck on Muichiro’s cheek as a reward for him being so patient with him, making the boy smile back at him.
“You’re the best Muichiro” [Name] said as he rested his head on Muichiro’s shoulder.
#demon slayer#demon slayer x male reader#demon slayer x reader#demon slayer headcanons#kny#kny x male reader#kny x reader#male reader#x male reader#tanjiro x male reader#tanjiro kamado#zenitsu x male reader#zenitsu agatsuma#inosuke x male reader#inosuke hashiriba#genya x male reader#genya shinazugawa#muichiro x male reader#tokitō muichirō
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@steddiemas Day 2 Prompt: Winter Sentence Starters
3. Did you know icicles make the perfect murder weapon?
Pairing: Pre-Steddie | wc: 1664 | Rating: T
Read on ao3 | ao3 collection
“Steve?” Eddie asks, squinting into the blinding lights of the familiar burgundy Beamer that’s parked in front of the mound of snow where the driveway usually is. It’s hard to see with the blinding lights and the sunrise bouncing off the bright snow, but Eddie’s pretty sure it’s Steve. He’s the only one who drives a Beamer around these parts of town, that’s for sure.
Sitting up on the outdoor couch, he adjusts the bundle of blankets around his shoulder. His hand fumbles in between the couch cushions until he finds the half-empty box of cigarettes and the lighter he and Wayne keep stashed there “in case of emergencies.” It’s a bit of a chore given the gloves covering his hands, but he gets the job done and brings the lit smoke to his winter-chapped lips. After a slow exhale, he tries again.
“Steve? What the hell are you doing here?”
There’s a clattering on the other side of the Beamer, followed by a string of curses before a figure emerges in the shadows of the lights. “Jesus dude,” Steve gasps. One hand stays pressed against his chest, the other clings to a snow shovel. “What the hell are you doing here? You should be inside it’s freezing out.”
It is freezing out, but there’s not that big of a difference between out here and inside Eddie’s bedroom. Not since the space heater took a shit at 2 am. He tried to fix it, he did. But it’s actually really damn hard to fix a space heater at 2 am when you’ve only slept for an hour because of chronic pain and nightmares and you can’t find the damn toolbox that’s supposed to be tucked away in the closet.
Frustrated beyond belief, Eddie needed a smoke and one thing led to another, and the next thing he knew he was being woken up by the rumbling of Steve’s Beamer. At least he was smart enough to put on gloves and wrap himself in his duvet before coming out here.
“Seriously, man. You’re going to freeze to death.”
“You know the dramatics are my thing,” Eddie teases, wrapping the blanket tighter around himself. “I’ve got a blanket and gloves.” Eddie wiggles his fingers for extra emphasis. “And this head of hair isn’t just for looks. Actually keeps me pretty warm too.”
Steve snorts, absentmindedly tugging on the end of his scarf. “Yeah, okay, man. Whatever you say.”
“So, I ask again,” Eddie says, pausing to exhale another puff of smoke. “What are you doing here at whatever time it is.”
“It’s 5,” Steve supplies, then holds up the snow shovel. “Who do you think shovels the snow around here since you’re out of commission? The snow fairy?”
The smoke in Eddie’s lungs gets trapped as his body tries to laugh and instead, he sends himself into a coughing fit that has him clutching his already aching sides. “First of all fuck you. Don’t joke about fairies!” he says, all bark no bite. “Secondly, I usually shovel the snow, but as you are aware, I’m still not allowed to lift more than two pounds thanks to our wonderful Spring Break adventures.”
“And you’re milking that for all it’s worth.”
Eddie’s quick to flip him the bird, rolling his eyes in the process. “S’Wayne paying you? That old bastard better not be paying you. I never got a dime when he made me shovel.”
“Probably because you always forgot, right?”
“You know what, Steve,” Eddie starts, trying to get up from the couch when a rush of pain races up his torso. Jesus H. Christ, he should be used to this by now. Biting his lip to keep the groan in, he settles himself back on the couch.
“M’just messing with you, Eds,” Steve says, shooting him an apologetic look. If anyone knows the pain he’s going through, it’s Steve. And yet, Steve’s wounds healed in record time, and Eddie’s on month nine of barely being able to make it down the three steps of his trailer. Yet another unfairness the universe has drawn for him.
“I was over helping the Mayfields during the last big storm and saw your uncle struggling to park after his shift. Figured if I’m here helping Max, I could help you guys out too. No big deal.”
Eddie’s not sure what universe Steve lives in, but agreeing to do manual labor for free is a big deal. A massive, big deal, actually. At least, in his universe it is. He doesn’t sign up for any sort of manual labor unless he’s getting paid. Fuck capitalism and all that, but also, you know, it’s only fair to cash in when it benefits him.
“Right, well, m’sure my uncle appreciates it.”
“He does,” Steve nods, resting the shovel on his shoulder. “So, you gonna quit distracting me now so I can get to work?”
Eddie extends one glove-covered hand out in front of him, fanning it out over the mountain of white snow separating them. “The snow is yours, my liege.”
Steve snorts, shaking his head. He takes a few steps away from the Beamer before repositioning the shovel in his hands. In one fluid motion, he drives the shovel the mix of fresh and packed snow. The metal clatter against the frozen chunks at the bottom but the sound doesn’t drown out the groan that leaves Steve's lips as he hoists a giant pile of snow up and over to the side.
Jesus H. Christ.
Eddie takes an extra long drag from his cigarette, eyes glued to Steve as he does the same thing again. He holds the smoke in his lungs, tries to concentrate on not choking as he watches Steve shovel another massive pile of snow away.
There’s at least twenty feet of distance between them, but Eddie’s eyes are glued to Steve. His pale blue puffy jacket does a lot to obscure his muscles, but Eddie’s always had an overactive imagination. He doesn’t need a clear visual to know that Steve’s biceps are straining every time he hoists the shovel out of the snow. Or the way his back muscles flex, showing off that swimmer's upper body of his.
Steve’s ditched snow pants like most do around here and instead has his trusty pair of blue jeans on. Eddie knows from experience that denim does little to shield the freezing temperatures, but he can’t complain. Not when Steve’s ass is on full display when he squats to investigate what the shovel has just slammed into. (A stray dog toy from two trailers over.)
If he doesn’t look away soon, he’s going to be in trouble. Even the cold as fuck temperature can’t keep the blood from rushing to his dick for long. A blessing and a curse, Eddie supposes.
Taking another drag, Eddie tilts his head so it rests against the headrest of the couch. Exhaling, the plume of smoke and cold air mix, getting whisked away in the early morning breeze. It might actually be colder now than it was at 2 am.
With his head still turned upward, he can hear the rhythmic sounds of Steve shoveling the snow. The clink of the metal shovel with the snow, the scrape as he digs it down to the pavement. The occasional huff of frustration when Steve’s bitten off more than he can chew. Stubborn as always.
If he keeps making noises like that though, Eddie’s going to need a lot more than a smoke and a new direction for his eyes to keep his mind out of the gutter—
Speaking of gutters, they really need to get someone to clear out all the damn icicles clinging to them like damn Christmas trees. One harsh slam of the door and he or Wayne is going to take an icicle straight to the head. A month in a coma, seven months of physical therapy, and one dropped murder charge is not going to go to waste over a goddamn icicle. Not if he can help it at least.
Honestly, out of all of that, he’s still most upset about the murder thing. He won’t even go fishing with Wayne after that one year with the fish who flopped around practically hasping for breath until Wayne stabbed it with his pocket knife. Never again. Eddie prefers his food already cooked and void of eyes thank you very much.
Besides killing someone in his house is way too obvious. An amateur move if he’s ever seen one. He’d at least been more smart about it. If he was going to kill someone, but he’s not. Obviously. But if he was, Eddie’s thoughts trail off as the sun catches on the translucent icicle, washing his body in the warm rays of sunlight.
“You know, icicles would make the perfect murder weapon.”
The sound of the snow shovel clattering to the floor startles him. His head whips in the direction of the noises. It takes a moment a moment for his eyes to adjust to the sudden change in light, but when they do Steve is staring at him, hands on his hips and a frown tugging at his pale lips.
“Maybe don’t joke about murder when we’ve just cleared your name,” Steve scolds, shaking his head. “Or do you want to go back into hiding?”
Eddie’s mouth is faster than his brain, words tumbling out before he has a chance to realize the implications of his words.
“Depends. Would you be hiding me again?”
A sickening silence falls between them as all the blood in Eddie’s body rushes to his cheeks. At least his nose isn’t cold anymore. He’s two seconds away from scampering into the trailer, head slung low in embarrassment when Steve’s unabashed chuckle breaks the silence.
“You can crash at my place anytime, you know.”
No, Eddie did not know that. But now? Now, he thinks that damn space heater isn’t worth bothering Wayne for after all.
#steddiemas#steddie#steddie fic#steddie ficlet#steddie fan fic#steve harrington#steve harrington fic#steve harrington ficlet#eddie munson#eddie munson fic#eddie munson ficlet#dani writes#stranger things#stranger things fic
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Part 8- Dressed in all black
“Dressed in all black I’m giving the eulogy.
R.I.P. to the kid that I used to be.” -Funeral by Neoni
Masterlist Part 7
It was a truth universally acknowledged that when one was a Gotham Vigilante, one was a paranoid Gotham Vigilante.
So when one fine night the motion sensors of the Batcave rang shrilly in response to an intruder, needless to say it was well earned.
Jason, dressed in sweatpants and a tanktop, was found in the medbay by a harried Nightwing only a few minutes later. The older man was harried and worn, but still sported a bright smile on his face when he spotted his younger brother.
“Little Wing!”
The missing man was half awake and grumbling something about warmth, but allowed Dick in his gear to hug him close.
“Oh, Little Wing, where have you been?!”
Jason grumbled again, but wrapped his arms around Dick and crushed his older brother to his chest.
“Hi, Big Bird.”
Oh, if that didn’t just make Dick cry ugly tears. It had been years since a tiny adorable Jason had looked up at him, an angry Robin with too many issues, and called him that title without sending a lance through Dick’s heart.
Where had Jason gone?
(Where had Jason’s anger gone?)
Not that Dick was complaining or anything. Not at all, but good things rarely came without strings attached.
(He had long since subscribed to the belief that his family was cursed.)
The Regent and the Phantom remained out far beyond their usual patrol time.
Jazz and Danny had successfully entrusted Jason to the Bats’ care while he woke, leaving before they were spotted though having accidentally set off come sort of alarm with their clumsy movements. In their rush, Jazz had to leave using her portal which could’ve been spotted on camera, however blurry thanks to the ecto.
It was odd to be without their silent third roommate; Jazz had gotten so used to sharing her proto-core warmth with her bedmate whenever she slept, untangling her limbs whenever she woke for patrol or daily life became a refreshing constant she was going to miss, much to her embarrassment.
(Several times she caught herself plotting how to throw herself into his path, just so she could get his arms around her again.)
(She was thirsting for the first time in her life and it was for a former dead guy.)
(Figures.)
Phantom cackled eerily as he let a gang banger slip from his grasp, the mortal terrified out of his mind. The pre-dawn light mixed messily with the ecto green of Phantom’s aura, casting an otherworldly effect over his surroundings- an average mortal would not be able to stand his presence for very long, which was useful to scare off any n’do’wells from sight.
The Regent sighed, exhausted. It had been a long month, stacks of paperwork had been completed, sparing with Pandora before patrols and sorting through the files Technus had stripped from the GIW servers prior to their destruction. Whatever locations the tech ghost was able to pinpoint, he cheerfully sent to the former Team Phantom for further action.
Whatever actions they took, the reports crossed her desk afterwards. Needless to say, Jazz had no objections to hunting the hunters- not when it was for the vengeance protection of a people wronged.
“Phantom.” Regent activated her ecto-comm, an upgrade from the Fenton Phones without the horrible branding, and listened for her little brother’s comm link in response.
“Yeah, Regent?” Danny returned with a tired emphasis on the title.
That had been the vigilante mantle Jazz took up with Danny returned to the nightlife as his spooky self, the general public unsure what to make of the two new meta vigilantes with varying abilities.
Phantom had cheerfully informed some camera crew early one morning that being dead was a medical condition.
(He’s not wrong.)
They didn’t wear the bat across their chests, which made them unknown. Their abilities were varying and their motives for vigilantism in Gotham unclear which made them dangerous.
(They were dangerous.)
(Jazz was dangerous. The blood on her hands proved it well enough.)
(Phantom might be a Spirit of Protection, but that didn’t mean he backed down from a fight, much less start them.)
(He’s a King.)
(He finishes them.)
“Wrap it up, we’ve been out long enough. You’ve got school soon.”
Jazz ignored the patented younger sibling whine, before she continued in a softer tone, “You’ve been doing good, little brother, and I’m proud of you for it.”
There was silence for a while as Jazz made her way towards her favorite alleyway, where her trophy still remained to her amusement, ready to fall into bed for a few hours before she had to get Danny up for school.
(That is, if she was able to sleep without her bedmate leeching off her proto-core warmth.)
“Thanks, sis.”
“Always, little brother.”
Jazz knew she set her phone for seven am, just enough time for her to drink her dose of ecto and force feed Danny something that wasn’t just straight caffeine. It was a force of habit for it to be seven am, even though Jazz was no longer in school or had a job.
Years of experience caring for her brother made it so.
Yet, as Jazz settled down into her soft sheets and warm blankets she knew she wasn’t going to have an easy time falling asleep despite how exhausted she was from the extended patrol.
Her bed was too empty. There was no steadfast presence at her back as she slept, no fellow liminal or Once-Revenant to share her own warmth with, proto-core or not.
Despite Danny being just a room across, Jazz had never felt more alone.
Jason was having both a good morning and a terrible one.
How that was possible, he wasn’t sure, yet here he was: in his old Manor bedroom, soft sheets pleasant on his rough skin, lack of pulsing green rage in his chest, bones aching from disuse, and muscles suffering mild atrophy thanks to him being in a coma for a whole fucking month.
Lovely.
Yes, Jason was very confused (and concerned) about that last bit, to the extent he was willing to stay in the Manor for longer than a meal and to say hi to Alfie. He wasn’t sure what had happened between the last Arkham breakout and Dickwing trying to kill him again by way of an octopus hug in the Batcave.
He really only recalled the breakout alert on his phone, his chest hurting… some bits in between were fuzzy and Jason wasn’t really sure if he could truthfully say they happened.
(Like the giant furry monster poking at his chest.)
(Or the soothing warmth wrapped around him.)
(The soft lips pressed to his own.)
(The citrus burn in the back of his throat.)
He didn’t recall words, per say, only emotions.
Protect-worry-amusement.
Worry-curiosity-embarrassment.
It wasn’t weird to believe that he wanted the simplicity of just sensing what people meant, rather than trying to deduce if they were lying or not. Jason’s patience for that had grown shorter and shorter over the years.
It was weird to believe he wanted it back. He wanted that warmth back in his arms, to feel safe again, cared for… to know he had nothing to worry about while in that embrace. Someone had taken care of him while he was missing and he was going to find them… and he wasn’t sure if he ever wanted to let them go.
A/N:
Poor Jazz can't catch a break with her love interests. :(
And Danny is out here just living his best Afterlife, waiting for the Bats to do something with the ghost files.
Yes, Jazz inherited the Fenton naming tendency too. Just took the title she has among the Realms and uses it as a vigilante name.
Danny is returning as Phantom, naturally.
Huh, wonder if this will have any consequences? nah.
Part 9
#dc x dp crossover#dp x dc#dp x dc au#dpxdc#jazz fenton#regent!jazz#jason todd#anger management ship#hardcover ship#here have some angst#and some more of my fan lore for this wacky world#Danny: being dead is a medical condition. :)#Jazz: He's not wrong?#Bat paranoia is a thing#Considering they really are out to get you
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Coincidence?
Muichiro x Fem!Reader, lil High school AU
Warnings: none just fluff Ig Idk bro
Note: Wowzers!!😱😱 I'm still alive!!😱😱 This was a bit rushed because I wanted to post something after so long and bcs IT'S MY BIRTHDAY WHAATT🤯🤯 crazy amirite anw pls forgive the grammar and how boring this is
Nothing felt better than hearing the last bell of a school day ring, knowing that the days after were the end of the week. The heavenly images in your head of finally being able to lay in bed, cuddled up in a warm blanket after taking a good relaxing shower.
However, instead of immediately going home, you decided to head to the park near the school to have a breath of fresh air. Fortunately, it seems to be vacant with no one on sight occupying it.
The rustling of leaves blown by the wind, the smell of fresh grass and dirt, and the silence that brought the feel of peace and tranquility. But the one thing that had always caught your attention, was the cherry blossom tree planted at the center of the park. For you, it was the most beautiful sight in the park. Almost never has its beauty failed to captivate passersby.
As you decided to take a seat underneath the tree, you noticed a familiar backpack laid on the ground. Thinking it could be anyone's and not just the specific familiar person you know who owns that exact same object, you reluctantly and carefully looked to the back of the tree to see who the mystery owner was. ‘Probably a random stranger’ you easily thought. But oh how wrong you were as your heart dropped the moment your eyes settled on the known figure.
Under the falling petals of cherry blossom he sat; beautiful mint-green eyes fixated on the strings of his guitar, fingers carefully strumming a melody that could soothe one's nerves. His long black hair gently swayed in the wind, coloured ends that matched his irises. You've always admired him since the first day of high school; managing to get a few interactions here and there through group work. As much as you wanted to get to know him better, the charming and attractive classmate had his own walls built when it comes to the social environment. Not even the guys in your class could make him crack a bit of a smile. Thus, you've accepted such defeat ever since.
But seeing him being so peaceful right now, enjoying himself in his own world, made it hard for you to bat your eyes away from him. You couldn't help but just gaze in awe at the sight of such beauty.
Until his fingers suddenly stopped playing through the guitar strings.
The moment he perked his head up, you immediately hid yourself behind the other side of the tree; heart almost stopped working. You hear him getting up, walking closer and closer to where you once stood. As your breath hitched, you tried to act cool in case the both of you went face-to-face. You hoped you wouldn't, but fate unfortunately had its own plan.
“Y/N?” a deep yet gentle voice called out to you from the side of the tree, making your heart race faster than it already had been. He looked at you with a gaze oh-so empty; making it difficult to look through that stoic disposition of his.
“Oh! Uhh… yeah, it's me. Fancy seeing you here,” you greeted awkwardly, fidgeting the hem of your shirt from the embarrassment you felt deep down.
You thought he would be reluctant to engage further in the conversation, but to your surprise, he proceeded to ask another question.
“It's your birthday today, isn't it?”
The moment his words entered your hearing, it felt as if your organs were rearranged.
“I- uhh… How did you know?”
“Heard your friends mentioning about it. Forgot to give you this.”
He rummaged through his bag, before pulling out a box wrapped in gift paper and handing it to you with that blank stare maintained.
“For you. In addition to your birthday,” he said reluctantly.
You hesitantly took the gift from his hand, internally debating if this was a dream or not. Before you could word out your gratitude, he quickly picked up his belongings and threw a short “My bus is here, gotta go,” leaving you on your own with your thoughts; trying to process what just happened. You looked down at the gift he had given you, then pinched yourself to double check reality. Yet there was one thing you didn't put your mind into.
If he recently knew about your birthday from your friends today… How did he forget a gift regarding something he had never known about in the first place?
#kny#no one asked but HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME <33#kny fic#muichiro#pookie#muichiro fluff#muichiro x reader#muichiro tokito#birthday fic#birthday#tokito x reader#demon slayer tokito#kny fluff#muimypookie#muixreader#kny muichiro#tokitou muichirou#kny au#demon slayer fluff#demon slayer au#demon slayer fic#muichiro x you#muichiro x y/n
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Homeless ☆~ J.W.W ~☆
*wrote this while drunk so have no idea how it turned out*
The last person you wanted to see tonight, was now trailing off behind you as you frantically searched for your pills, throwing away anything that came as an obstruction between you and the very last string of your sanity, making your house look like someone just havoced through it.
You were in such a severe state of panic attacks that you could feel wonwoo's presence around only when he physically tugged onto you from the back, pulling you directly against his chest, his heavy arms tightly embracing you so as to help your shivers.
The moment you processed it all in your already struggling head, you instantly pushed him off of you, causing your own self to go and hit the kitchen counter. But you were in way too much mental pain to be able to process the impact from the cold marble against your waist.
"What the are you doing here wonwoo" even though the words were decent and simple, the coldness in your ever so jolly voice cut sharp crests into his icy heart.
"You are not in a co-"
"I ASKED WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE WONWOO" your sudden scream echoes throughout the black walls of your hall, still lighter than the dark you were lefylt in. By him!
Wonwoo backs off slightly from your shaking figure having gotten scared of your outburst, yet the concern making his hands still ghost around your waist, prepared to wrap around it the first second if you collapse on the kitchen floor.
It has been almost an year than your favorite person became a lesson, the brightest flame of your life became the reason of all the yet burning wounds in you ; one goddamn year that wonwoo slipped off of your hands amidst the defeaning chaos all around - apparently because he 'lost feelings for you' , because your face did not make his heart light up anymore or.....
Or maybe because your mental condition tired him out! Afterall who would be able to bear all those anger waves , getting woken up to your trembling body in the middle of the night at least once a week, or having to rush home from parties with his friends because his 'girlfriend' needed her pills to calm down the panic attacks she gets amongst crowds.
Just like today!! You were drowning yourself in beers and shots at the local pub, as they were the only thing that has been keeping you mildly sane since that very day, when you one of wonwoo's friends that you knew, enter the place and settle down on the chair beside you. You definitely thought it was a relief that your own was swiveled onto the side, saving you from the embarassment of being face to face with him.....only until your near drunken ears instantly registered wonwoo's name being taken behind you, amidst all the unimportant blabbers. All you fizzed up brain took up from the conversation was that he was seeing a new girl, titled as the hottest in the town by his so called best friends and that the new couple was gonna be here in a minute or two.
Even though you've picked up all the stepped onto pieces of your heart and arranged them in a way that would make you numb to all the pain, to all the memories, the giggles, the cuddles, the cute nose pinches and most importantly to the ache of losing the shoulder you could cry on anytime....you still weren't that prepared or in fact immune to seeing him with a new girl, her hands wrapped around those same shoulders.
So your natural instinct was obviously to run back home at that very moment, noticing that the sweating and quivering down the fingers have set about already. But looks like the universe had made up its mind to make you meet wonwoo today, as he now stood infront of you, with pleading eyes for you to calm down....or rather let him calm you down.
"Y/n pls sit down for a while. You need to be held right on or else you might fa-"
"MIGHT WHAT WONWOO? MIGHT GET WHAT? FAINT? LEMME! WHY ARE YOU SO FUCKIN WORRIED ABOUT YOUR 'EX' PASSING OUT" you were clearly nearing the edge as you felt your senses going all dizzy and your nerves choking you up.
"Pls pls pls calm down bub! Pls" wonwoo's eyes seemed to be teary.... or maybe it was just the watery haze on your eyes speaking. But the thing that finally ticked off the lever was the nickname he called you....the name that was sweeter to you than your real one, that made your heart flutter around like a newly transformed butterfly flying out to the blue skies...the name that now made your stomach twist in your tummy and your cheeks wet by the slipping down stream of hot tears.
"You...you do not get...to call that name....wonwoo! Neither do you get to hold....me and pat me down to stability like....like the old times" face all red andhands gripping tightly onto the kitchen counter as they knew the moment even a single finger slips, your entire body will collapse onto the ground.
"I have lost my home wonwoo. The home I held so dear. And I very well know that I'll have to live homeless for the rest of my time now." You take in a deep breath before continuing onto the last sentence as you knew this would mean the end to this encounter, no matter how much your self wanted to jump on him this instant and wrap around him in the tightest hug he always gives and cry, you knew that you've lost that right long ago.
"So pls leave and keep those shoulders fresh for your new bub rather than staining with my tears" you sucked in a whimper while mentioning the nickname that was supposed to be exclusive to you, gesturing your shaky arms towards the door for him to take the hint and walk out....the same way he walked out of your life when you needed his shelter the most.
#seventeen#kpop#svtcreations#kpop scenarios#seventeen x reader#seventeen x y/n#hoeforhao#wonwoo seventeen#wonwoo angst#wonwoo x reader#wonwoo x y/n#svt x y/n#svt x reader#wonwoo imagines#wonwoo drabbles#svt au#svt angst#seventeen angst#svt drabbles#svt imagines#wonwoo scenarios
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Hideaway
hi friends! here’s my first fic on this blog, i hope i do it justice! and thanks sm to the anon who sent in this request, i hope you enjoy! <3 now here’s 1.8k of sick sneezy alastor
~
It’s not exactly out of the ordinary for no one to have eyes on Alastor for quite some time, however it seems that he’s been missing from the hotel for nearly the entire day now.
“I’m just saying, it’s odd,” Charlie explains to a very uninterested Vaggie. It seems not everyone harbors the same worry in their heart for one of Hell’s Overlords. “We’d usually see him around, like, once or twice! Now it’s just radio silence. Literally.”
“I’m sure he’ll turn up soon enough,” Vaggie says with a lot less concern about the situation than her girlfriend. “It’s not exactly odd for that creepy fucker to go lurking around. I give him a day until he’s back.”
If only that were actually the case and Alastor were truly gallivanting around all of Hell without a care in the world. Instead, it seems he’s found himself in a rather unamusing predicament.
“Ḧ̸̳́̽͛̂̒̾̃̍͗̄̋͘’̷͍̹͇͉̓̀D̶̟̺͑̌̆̇̀̓̊̾̉̃̑̍͛̚͠Z̸͈̖̪̝̪̪͉̜͗́͆͌̒̋́̓̂͛͝͠Z̷̡̗̘̼̜̞̲͈̣͖̦͖͘Z̸̢̧̼͓̤̝̺̤̗̼̀̆ͅH̷̢̪̥͙̟̭̺̭̖͍̯̪̉!̶̢͖̳̙̦̙̗̩͍̟͌̃̌̉͒͑͗͜͜”̴̡̫͈̹̳̺̩͍̟̾̽̍͜͝͠
The sound of feedback in his ears makes Alastor wince, but luckily no one seems to be around to have seen that moment of weakness. Not that any lesser soul unfortunate enough to cross his path and witness the sorry state he’s in can’t simply be extinguished with minimal effort, he would still prefer to get to Rosie’s as soon as possible.
And hopefully his nose will stop buzzing when he’s there.
The residents of Cannibal Town know better than to greet Alastor with anything other than the utmost respect, but they aren’t ones to unnecessarily fall at the feet of a more powerful being. For that, Alastor is actually grateful for.
Getting to Rosie’s Emporium is easier said than done, but no one other than himself needs to know that. Not even Rosie. Unfortunately, even an Overlord of Hell isn’t immune to catching a terrible cold, but it’s making his muscles ache and he feels distinctly weak.
Weak
If there’s one person he knows for sure won’t take advantage of his misery, it’s Rosie. Their relationship has always been a special one, helping each other out whenever need be with very few strings attached for such powerful beings. Compared to other favors he’s had to ask, this one is particularly benign.
The first challenge that presents itself are the other patrons of Rosie’s Emporium who currently have no idea they are on one of the Overlords of Hell’s hit list right now. “Oh my goodness, Alastor! It’s lovely to see you here dearie!”
A warm welcome. One that would be much appreciated if Alastor didn’t need the patrons out yesterday. “Yes, yes, I thought I’d pay a visit to my good friend. There’s something I’d like to talk about if you’d lend me an ear—not literally this time, I’m afraid!”
Rosie laughs at the joke, but Alastor can already tell she’s picked up on his unusual behavior if his disheveled (by his standards) appearance wasn’t already enough to go by. “Alastor, dear, I always have time for you. Let me just finish up with a few customers and we can get right away, how’s about that?”
Alastor can already feel the buzzing sensation in his nose getting more intense by the minute. If he doesn’t get away soon, he’s going to—
“Well, then I hope you don’t mind if I take a bit of a look around the store while I wait. I must say, it’s been quite some time since I’ve last paid you a visit! Toodle loo!”
It’s rushed and worse than the usual quick-witted response Alastor could give on the spot, but the last thing he’s going to do is show any kind of weakness in front of a bunch of patrons. If word got out about the Radio Demon being brought down by a silly cold, he’ll never be able to live that down. He can always get rid of one or two unsuspecting passersby in the exact right place and time to witness Alastor’s downfall, but even he can hardly control the spread of gossip amongst an entire town. That’s more in line with the Vees’ skill set.
Quickly, he finds an unoccupied bathroom and ensures that no one is within earshot.
“H̶̬̮̻͔̯̥̤̪́̑͋͋͜Ḩ̸̧̡͈̖̹͇̜̤͍̗͇̻͂̓͛̃͆͝͠’̸̣̺̯̲͍̞͕̳̣̯̿̅̅͛̒N̶͉̺͖̯̟͇͉͎̣̈́̄̋̊̒̄͐͆G̶̛̭͇̪͍̬̳̼̦̎̈́͜K̸̛̛̪̞̉̇͆̿͝͝T̵̲̤͔̈́͂! H̷̭̳̤̗̻͙̀͆̉̓͋͋͑̕͠Ȟ̵̰̥̲̳̱́̍͜͜’̷͇͕͙̰͓̪̭̞͎̋̀͜D̸̢̡̛͇̜̪̱͖̥̝̯̱̃̀́̉̄͜͝Ź̶͇͎̠̟̹̫͈͌̿͒̓͋̈́̃̆̃̿͑̚͠Z̵̧͉͓̔͐́̀͐̈́̋͛Z̶̲̬̠̠͎̩͒̆̎̄̃̿̄̒͆̇̉̓̎͠Ḩ̴̢̢̛͈̔̋͗̈̊̎̀̎̀̎͌̂͝͝! H̶̡̨̠̮͉̱͕̜̼̱̬̫̲̽̀̂̀͆͐͜H̵̨̛̗̘̹͚̰̝̬̱͐̾͌̓͑̔͊̆͊͌͐̕͝͝’̶̨͕̗͙̝͕̯̬̯̮̹͛̎͘T̴̡͖̳̱̟̫̫̰̀̂͂̃̀͋͂̕͠ͅS̴͓̘̪̫̼͉̻͈̰̟̈̀̊̍̿̀̓̋͋͛̀͌͝Ḫ̷̙̩̦̤̞͇̟̘̐̐̇͒̀́̈́̑̔̀̏̂͝͠͝H̶̤̺̣̾̃́̆͑̿̃ͅ!”
The buzzing is incessant and the faint sound of radio static begins to fill the bathroom, a true testament to his lack of control. It shouldn’t be this way, he should be better-composed. He’s supposed to be indestructible, infallible, and completely immune to any kind of illness as silly as a cold.
Unfortunately, however, Hell just doesn’t work like that.
“Ugh…”
His head pounds and he’s begging to feel dizzy. Thankfully, there are worse places to pass out than in the bathroom of a trusted friend’s place, but he has a feeling his pride won’t allow him to do even that. There’s no way he’s going to show weakness, even to himself if he can help it.
Blowing his nose alleviates some of the pressure in his head as well as the sound of radio static in the room, but it doesn’t get rid of the incessant buzzing in his nose. He has a feeling that’s probably going to stick around for a while, as annoying as it is.
That’s when he hears the bathroom door open despite him being completely certain that he’d locked it. “Oh, Alastor, dear, you could’ve just told me you weren’t feelin’ well.”
At least it’s just Rosie. Some of the tenseness in his shoulders relaxes at that. He puts a smile back on his face and turns to face her with the little amount of dignity he still has left. “It seems that even Overlords can be brought down by a simple cold, I’m afraid,” he admits in a joking manner, not willing to admit how terrible he truly feels. “Do be careful, I would hate for you to catch something because of me.”
“Nah, that’s not somethin’ you have to worry your pretty little head about, darling,” Rosie says instead, not willing to accept Alastor playing this off. “Just trust me. I can shut down the shop for the day and make you some nice tea to help with that throat’a yours.”
That’s…nice. As much as Alastor would hate to admit weakness, there’s something about being offered a warm cup of bitter tea when he feels like collapsing on his feet right now. “How could I ever turn down an offer as generous as that? I think I’ll join you for some tea and conversation.”
The “conversation” part is ballsy, even for him, considering he isn’t sure how much longer he can go without sneezing. The buzzing in his nose is continuing to bug him even after he blew his nose. But being cared about tea sounds too nice to turn down.
The shop looks much different without the hustle and bustle of busy Cannibal Town residents. For Hell, Rosie has always managed to keep the place is relatively high spirits, a true feat for anyone unlucky enough to be down here.
“H̵̩̄̾̚͘̚H̴̨̞̥̾͊́’̷̱͓̰́̓͋̀̂D̸͎̱͌͑́͠T̴̜̚C̸̢̛̲̮͙̪̈́̋͗͜Ḩ̴̯̼̭̯͚̐͝!”
Great, now the static is back. And Rosie heard him.
His mask is slipping.
“Goodness, I apologize,” he says, trying to act as unbothered as possible. He can’t tell if Rosie is buying it or not since her back is turned to him, making tea. He grabs his handkerchief and rubs at his nose, hoping that will alleviate some of the annoying buzzing.
“You don’t need to act all tough around me,” Rosie chastises. “Haven’t we known each other for long enough by now? No one else is here right now. You can let your guard down, I’ve got you.”
As reassuring as that is (Rosie’s care is a good one to be in), Alastor isn’t sure he can let himself relax like that. He’s never done it before and he isn’t sure he can do it now, even with aches and soreness all over.
“You do have a way of seeing through everyone, don’t you?” Alastor says, finally letting his guard down. His voice is less animated and his ears begin to droop slightly. Anyone else would take this as an immediate sign to attack the Radio Demon, but not Rosie. Rosie is a friend. Rosie is safe.
“Here you go,” she says, sliding over a hot cup of black tea with no sugar. “That should help with your throat if it isn’t already hurting. But I have a feeling it is and you’re just not tellin’ me.”
“Oh Rosie, do tell me how it feels to be right all the time, hm?” Alastor jests. He didn’t realize how much his throat was actually hurting until he takes the first sip of tea. He tries to stifle the cough that ensues behind a fist, but an unsettling staticky sound emerges anyway.
“It feels lovely, darlin’,” Rosie quips. “But it sounds like your throat doesn’t. I really feel for you—getting sick while also bein’ in Hell? What kinda shitty luck is that?” She bursts into boisterous laughter, which Alastor doesn’t exactly appreciate but lets slide.
“I’ve had worse days, but this one is the shittyhh—
Ḩ̷̰͍̹̖̮̟͂̍͑̒̄Ḥ̸̨̯̥͕̣͙̯̠̳̘͇̀̋̄̂͒́̑͘͜͝’̸̡̡̮͔̪̰̼̖͉̝͈̝̃͗̅͋͗̓͛͌͝E̸̤̦̱͓̭͉͇̠͚͂̽̏̎͌͑̀̋̀͂̕̚͝͠͝D̷̢͎̭͙̹̙̖̭̣̣̮͖̰͖̆̚Ż̶̧̨͖̭͕͉͇̩͉̰͙͍͍̰̥̂́̉͌Z̵̳̲̝̱̦̻͙̰͕̭̪̯͗̈̋̑̍̅̓̌̆̀̔̇͜S̴̨̢̢̛̲̦͔̠͔̻̯̼̥͆ͅH̵͎͋̽̀̅̄̕Û̸̢̩̝͕̾̈́̓͂̽̀̓̉̚! Ugh, ‘scuse mbe. Well, I suppose
there’s certainly no way I can broadcast in this condition, now is there?” Might as well rest here and recuperate before heading back to the hotel, he thinks to himself, especially if Rosie is being so amenable. Wouldn’t want to face her wrath if I tried to walk out of here like this, either.
He can feel his ears drooping at this point, but he doesn’t have the energy or the necessity to keep them pointed upright. Hopefully no sneaky lesser demons are lurking around looking for pictures but Alastor is still confident in his abilities to detect any foul presences, even battling one of the worst colds of his life.
“How’s that hotel business going these days? The princess and her friends still up to their little shenanigans?” Rosie asks, trying to make conversation. Alastor thinks he still has enough energy left for that.
“Always,” he responds, the plastered smile on his face suddenly feeling slightly more genuine. “But it can be such a headache. There’s no way I could possibly be there now, imagine the migraine I would get in my state.” It’s certainly not because the thought of being doted on makes his cold, shriveled heart do funny things inside his chest.
“Just don’t stay here too long,” Rosie suggests. “Of course you’re welcome to stay as long as you’d like, dear, but I’m sure the residents would miss you dearly if you were gone more than a few days. It’s just a matter of time before one of them comes looking for you, you know.”
That, he knows too well. He can practically hear Charlie worrying all the way from the hotel lounge. But there’s no way he can show vulnerability around any of them.
Not yet.
“I’ll make sure to recover quickly, then,” Alastor says, sipping on his tea cup. “Give them nothing to worry about. I’ll be back in no tihh… no time—
“Ḩ̴̤͓̫̖͇̤͊̂́͜H̵̢̢̤̺̩̟̖͍̩̹̗̠̑̈́̈́̀͌͑̾̊͝ͅ’̸͇̈̑͒Ë̶̮̝̗͕͖̳͇̗͕̼̬͖́̐͑̈͋̒̀̄̉̈́̒̾̚͘T̵̛̗͚̰̱̭̘͉̯̝̈́̀̂̏̍̽͋͘͝S̴̡̙̺͎̬̱̘̈̅̏́̇ͅS̴̭̥̑̉̂͛̂̾̏̂̾͗Ḣ̵̢̢̞͕̹̰̯̟̰̯̠̖͕͔̀U̸̮͌͆́̏̂̎̏͝͠! Ȟ̴̱’̵̧̛̘́̏͑̌̔̅̑̀͒͂̽͗̃̄H̴̛͙̮͈̠̻̝̱͖̺̺̺͉̩͙̲̆̒́͆̃̂̕͜Ả̷͉̫̘͋̃̋̽̂͂̆̽̏̍̐̾͌̕͜͝Z̵̧̡̠̻̥̲̙͇̙̠͋͌͛̈́͐͋͊͆̔͆͗͒̍͝Z̶̢͚͓͒̆̈́͊̈̑͠ͅZ̶͉̠̗͇̥̰͎̰̱͙͉̱̜̳̣̉̒̌́̓̓͋̚͠H̸̬͓͚̻͖̣̙̬͌̈́̈́͒͌̒̍̒̌̕͠Ủ̶̧̜̱̺̘̖͖̣̣̙͇̩̣͉̄ͅ! Ḥ̴̨̼̣̩̰͓̗̞̜̘͖̱̊̍͜͝È̵̟͒̄͝’̵̙̱̻̥̼̥̹͈̎̈͋̔̅̋̿̓̔͘͜͜Ḍ̷̠̤͕̞̻̟̻͓̜̱̱̃̊̀̎̈́̓̍̇̏͂̚̕Z̸̡̜͈̝̖̈́͊̾̐̓̾̈̽̎̌̍͛̑̕̚̕Z̶̺̣̯̺̫͇̈́̒̇͒̇͆̄̓̅͋̒H̸̨̡̜̳̜̜̣̤̮̉̏̇̿͌̈́̈́́̅̊̒͂͆̇͝Ứ̵̡̙̮͍̣̼̹̠̞̣͕̇̂̑̄̑̔̑̋̎͛̚͝ͅ!”
That damned buzzing in his nose! If it were an enemy, he would be able to eliminate them in nanoseconds. But even the great Alastor can’t fight off a cold without rest and relaxation.
Thankfully, he can get plenty of it at Rosie’s.
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