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#or should I make a tag for asks uhhhhh

tetsutits · 1 year

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hanma fingers with his ‘sin’ hand and spanks with ‘punishment’

#I am SO sorry #it just makes sense #hand kink go brrr #:priv #uhhhhh how should i tag #ask to tag

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haiamkai · 9 months

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i love you kai

i love u too <3333333 (genuine)

#ask #!!!!!!!!#should i make an ask tag for yu #uhhhhh #I cant thibk of one rn #jippi #< placeholder #:333

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xxswagcorexx · 1 year

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tumblr user xxswagcorexx why do you insist on hiding away half your analyses/ramblings in the tags of your posts speak ur truth!!! anyway talk mythology andor symbolism to me whats the significance behind red's cult eating honey? do either of them get any items of power mixed up sometimes but just go whoops and move on like its no big deal? what would an outsider pov on this mess look like "ah that pair of lunatic gods again" bc this is sooo funny to me to imagine

i am . scared of everyone (and plus i don't wanna make the post too long and tags let me ramble without worrying abt length/mention small things without feeling like i need to format it properly ^_^

and uh abt the honey thing. this is where u can see this is Really inspired by greek mythology but basically in greek mythology, honey was seen as food of the gods and would provide gods immortality and whatnot ^_^ anyways i was like "hmmmmmm reddoons core" but also it just really works well. aesthetically for him

(AND GET READY FOR A LONG RAMBLE UNDER THE CUT)

anyways on the topic of the honey thing, i tend to associate red with gold because 1) money and 2) red and gold are a really classic color combo that i love, so honey (sorta) resembling molten gold is just. really aesthetically pleasing to me

and also iirc red wanted to make the byzantine empire in earthbound season 2? and when i came across a video on how to make byzantine honey fritters by tasting history with max miller i was like "omg reddoons core"--and from the video it seems like honey was a bit of a special dessert? in 6:33 of the video, there's a poem about a monk complaining about how the abbots have it a lot better than the monks and they mention that the abbots had 2nd helping of honey fritters so yeah i think its safe to assume honey was a semi-special thing, even if it was common. so uh. yeah. money and reddoons. thumbs up

and for the longest time i have associated bees and honey by rina sawayama with. swagdoons in general and the entire song is about how much the singer loves money and partying even if they're broke as shit LMAO its such a good bop if you like pop i recommend it . anyways ya that just added to the aesthetic in general

(as u can tell most of it was based off of vibes and plus in biased because i like how. warm milk and honey taste and plus i really like the idea of milk being something nurturing and honey being something sweet that is representative of love bc ur being sweet and easing someone into something so. Yeah. just vibes but how i figure out vibes are so specific that its worth explaining i think <- loves romanticizing the mundane) (and there's a sick ass line from the end poem like that) (like "And the player was a new human, never alive before, made from nothing but milk and love. You are the player. The story. The program. The human. Made from nothing but milk and love." come ON that line fucks so hard how couldn't i love it)

anyways i think with all of that in mind, red's cult would eat honey as a sign of wealth and comfort/nurturing 4 those reasons ^_^ (i am so sorry for all of that for explaining that i just have lots of Reasons to why i feel something sometimes)

WILDLY OFF TOPIC but u also asked abt items of power getting mixed up, i think it would happen most during worship </3 i think they'd just go to each other and be like "REDDOONS one of your cult members sacrificed blood as a loyalty pact to their partner instead of WAR again. u want it" and red would either let ash keep it or take it so uh. insert them sharing their power with each other here even though their values are usually on increasing ur ego and being on top of the world (CONSIDERING THIS FANDOM LOVES THEMES OF LOYALTY IN A GAY GAY HOMOSEXUAL WAY) (SEE WHY I DDNT WANT THEM COMING FROM ANOTHER GOD OR MERGING INTO 1 GOD) (THE IMPLICATIONS ARENT GOOD)

anyways i think ash and red (as gods) and their cults are pretty well known (like how swagdoons r the 2nd most popular ls ship) but LORD if their myths got lost to time they'd be a nightmare to study via texts and scripts in the future. like i can imagine for the LONGEST time historians argue if they were gods that changed during the dark ages because red's name predates ash until they Finally find a myth involving them as 2 different characters and its settled that they're 2 separate gods even though they represent similar-ish things LOL anyways yeah i can imagine more myths of them being found and historians going ??? wtd were these gods <3 hope that answers ur questions anon! :D

#swagdoons #ashswag #reddoons #tw swearing #media.warning.swearing #tw caps #media.warning.caps #mcytshipping #lsshipping #<- not really?? tbh i dont ship them myself but it Is mentioned a bit so #but also i am letting this out to the world for a reason . become a true mythology and make up whatever u wanna do with them ^_^#death of that author or whatever . evolve them and make them ur own!!!!!#anyways ya i think red's cult would Really value material goods and focus on living ur best life in a lots of money and party kinda way #and i mentioned his would be more of an ideology so i think his practices would involve stuff involving shooting the shit and Capitalism #while with ash he gives u like. Things if you sacrifice and worship him (like winning a battle)#so ya #also iirc some religions Do talk abt money in their holy texts so perhaps some of reds myths r abt that #i should really make a tag for this huh. i cant think of any so uhhhhh #into the pantheon #<- yeah lets go with that 4 now #anyways ^_^ ty for the ask anon!#and i am So Sorry to the maintag for spamming i am just Ill about this concept #ask.core

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ty-bayonet-betteridge · 9 months

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Why are you me but British??? /J (just noticed your blog title lol)

our tysona for the last tyday was BAYONET, the ty from our roleswap au. he takes CANNONBALLs place as the mouthpiece of WOE.BEGONE. and i love him <3 we changed the avatar and banner back but kept the url and blog title cause idk

#woe.begone #wbg #w.bg #ty betteridge #asks #i guess i should make a tag for this au huh?#uhhhhh #fuck it i cant think of anything clever right now #wbgswap

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jonahmagnus · 1 year

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HOW IN THE BALLS DID YOU GET THE URL. APPLAUSE TO YOU JONAH

THANK YOU PAULA KEHEHEHE I just asked the person who had it and they gave it to me ♡ Gender ACHIEVED or should I say.... gender archived? 😳 [the crowd boos and starts throwing tomatoes]

#Asks #Beloved mutuals #Ooo I should make a tag 4 u !! uhhhhh........ herm #Give me a minute #asto

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bright-and-burning · 2 months

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cool music taste and correct opinions (for the my opinion of u post)

omfg you like my music taste … anon i am kissing u thank u sm . drop music recs if you’ve got them i take ages to get around to listening but i always do eventually!! and if u think my taste is good then surely yours is too

send your opinion of me on anon!!

#thank u for the correct opinions one too akdhskdh #i was gonna make a silly comment like u get kiss for music taste but not for liking my opinions #bc everybody should think i’m right all the time.#but genuinely i appreciate that <333 #ask #uhhhhh i want a tag for when ppl say nice things to me. hm.#saved with love

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safination · 3 months

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Partners in Death…and Life

Part 2: Radio Will be Dead if He Doesn’t Explain Himself

| Part 1: Radio's Not Dead |Part 3: Not Everything You Hear From The Radio Should be Trusted| Masterlist | ao3 Parings: Alastor x wife!reader Tags: fem!reader, established relationship, hopefully not but just in case ooc!alastor (I'm still trying my best to keep him as canon as possible) Reader is in hell for a reason.

Summary: After a seven-year absence, you find the man you were married to in life, not only back in town, but also helping... *checks notes*... the Princess of Hell run a hotel aimed at rehabilitating sinners who were sent to the bad place for a reason. Hello, I’m back :D This was supposed to be published yesterday, but I got busy. Anyway, thank you for all the likes so far. It motivated me to really finish this chapter. Also once again, I have everything planned out, it really is just a matter of writing it down. *Updated 28/02/2024 Just added some stuff that I thought made sense*

Flick…

Lights flicker above you with a slight buzz. You drape an arm over your eyes when the gleam of the bulb blind you.

The hardwood floors chill your skin, but it’s the sensation of casual loose clothing on your back that warrants your exhale in peace. Just a second. You just need a moment on these hard and chilling floors to ground you… just… one … single … moment to…

Inhale

Exhale

Inhale

Exhale

A stray feather pricks into your arm. The vane tickles, but the barb digs your skin. You’ve called this body ‘yours’ far longer than your human one, yet the feathers that grow on your skin still astound you. You twirl it around your fingers, and wave it in the air like a wand—it’s a proper animalistic feather.

Your nose scrunches into a hard scowl, and you jump up, stomping into the kitchen toward that untouched coffee mug on your counter. Grabbing it, you splash the contents down the sink, letting it flush down the drain.

The sponge is rough against your hands as you scrub and you scrub and you scrub and you scrub and you scrub and you scrub a̵̯͒n̴̤͝d̶̫͌ ̶͚̇y̶̤̎o̷͔̓u̶̢͐ ̸̓͜s̵̪͗c̸͎͂r̷̀ͅṳ̴̎b̸͖̀ ầ̷̩̯͍̙̳̍͗͘ń̵̰̞̰̕d̴͇̻̮̫̝̓̎̈́ ̶̡̬̬̮̺͗͒́̌͑y̴̙̘̻͇̿̉̐͆ǫ̷͉̟̍̅̑̏ŭ̸̖͓ͅ ̴̛̝͇̭̥̌́́̂s̸̠̑̽̏́c̷̥̺̃̾̊r̶̲̯̈́̈̄͆͊u̵̼̝͕̼̇̍̈́͘b̶͍͖͖̐̾͝.

Inhale

Exhale

Inhale

Exhale

You rinse the mug, slamming the cupboard door shut when you drop it next to your own clean one. Fingers run through your feather-hair…hair-feather, or your ‘whatever that grows on your scalp’. Some questions you’ve stopped asking.

An audible grumble… well, uhhhhh…. grumbles from where your stomach is placed in this body, and you munch on your lips to keep the inhumane screech from erupting into the kitchen and breaking all kinds of glassware and little knickknacks that Alastor filled your home with.

(These days, the old trinkets collect dust on your shelves. There haven’t been any new ones in years.)

Chopping Hell’s equivalent of carrots calms you. (It’s honestly the use of some type of razor-sharp object that calms you. You’d prefer a different razor-sharp object, but a sharp knife is a sharp knife, no matter the size.) You chop until there’s enough food to make a proper and decent meal that your stomach will accept.

You crash on the couch, dinner secured on a plate, and flip the television switch. Light flashes into the room when you do.

Ad about some impish business—Not interested.

‘Yeah, I fucked your sister, So what?’ — Boring.

Cooking Venison with Vox— Lame.

Settling on the lifestyle network, you munch on your food. Some poor slimy creature flashes across the screen, and it's her home that will be remodeled because of…something. You’re not sure what that something was. You don’t care enough to find out.

The sounds from the television swap with the silence of your living-room as you take each bite. It’s one of the sadder habits you’ve picked up since purchasing this noisy picture box.

Your eyes wander to that half-filled coat rack, while your ears listen in on the show and that woman did not just say that pink would go with brown. Only your singular coat drapes on the hinge, when this particular design was made to hold two.

A commercial plays for some-thing called the Hazbin Hotel.

Your eyes are stitched to the screen until the final note of the song plays, and a different advertisement takes its spot. You take a sip of your drink. Just ą̷̖̯͈͂ ̷̡̧͚̤̩͎̙͇̞͓̟͈̤̝͉͉͉̘̉͐̓́̆́̇̍̐̿̈̄͜͜͜͝͝s̶̨̢̛̥̣̻̱̰̬̩̹̥̞̟̳̝͔͓͙̗̗͕̟͇̆̉̿į̴̡̢̠͇̱̤͔̙͎͕͛̑̓̒̀̔͆̓͂̃̚͘͘͠ṗ̶̡̢̨̳͙̦̮͍͓̻͎̲̪̲͕͛̔̐́̐̈́̒̒̉̎͛̆̈́̈́̉̔̑̃̕ͅ.

Inhale

Exhale

Inhale

Exhale

Inhale

Exhale

Inhale

Exhale

You blink, and you find your keys locking your front door. Already, your legs are trekking down the garden stones. A flower snarls at you as the gate locks with a click.

Another blink.

Huh…you’re on the bus.

The sign says it’s headed into the city. Living on the outskirts has always been beneficial for you. Not today, though. Today, the one-hour commute makes your feathers bristle.

You read the barely eligible address scribbled on the note, and pat your hair, smoothing the flared feathers sticking out. It seems…

Hmmmmm.

It seems you did not think this through. H-how…How are you going to get to the hotel?

Tagatha calls you a fossil for using one of those flippy telephones. You considered purchasing those fancy telephones with the lights and screens, and loud robotic voices telling you where to turn left, but learning to use a flip-phone brought enough stress for two lifetimes. You’ll happily stay a fossil.

Turns out, you don’t even need the address.

The Hazbin Hotel sticks out. It’s a humongous building with its name written across what you call the sky in blinding neon lights. Your vision zooms in, and you see that the hotel rests on a giant hill at the other edge of the city. Three large neon-lit arrows point to a crudely attached radio tower. Below it, a wooden ship hangs to the side. Circus light bulbs flicker with electricity.

The Hazbin Hotel is an eyesore – it’s exactly what Alastor prefers.

You reach the dinged-up metal gate on the bottom of the hill and reset your hand on the rusted latch. Trekking through the city took a lot, and you were already here. So, why are your legs frozen to the cement? Why does your heartbeat thump in your ears?

“Excuuussseeeee me.”

A snake towers over you. It’s your first time seeing such a slithery specimen as large as him. His hat rests on his hold, and it blinks at you. His hair … or was that skin … puffs out with two red sets of red eyes.

“Can I help you?” you say, warily. Sinners are in hell for a reason.

“Yessssh,” he says, his tongue slithering out. His flaps stick out, all four eyes staring right into your own. “I’d like to be a guessst at this hotel!”

You glance at the eye-sore that’s called a hotel. “I don’t work here.”

His flaps droop. The snake takes a deep breath, and slides the gate open, slithering in with determination in his … er… snake body.

You follow in silence.

The snake matches your pace. “Will you be a guest at this establishment as well?” he asks you. “Or were you given the same sssssuper secret mission?” Just like before, his tongue slithers out—what a funny little odd man.

Bangs grab your attention. When you focus your vision, you see an inky shadow servant striking a nail into broken wood. “Not at all,” you say slowly. “I’m just here to visit someone.”

His flaps open, and three pairs of eyes and a hat meet yours. “I am the great Sir Pentious!” he says with a proud hand on his puffed-up chest. “Inventor. Architect of destruction. Villain extraordinaire!”

You give him your name “….Doctor.”

“It is only the coward who attacks a battler of health.” His flaps droop as he sinks into himself. “You cannot be my rival, I’m afraid.”

“I guess that makes you brave,” you say, humming. The decorations for the hotel are rather dull. Drawn on the middle of the hill, a giant pentagram is etched on the ground. The flowers dwindle on the cliff edge, and do little to combat the grayness surrounding you. “What a shame to hear—I rather love good rivalries.”

The eyes on Sir Pentious’ hat brighten at the same time his own do as well. “Ssssso do I!”

One of the inky shadow servants waves at you.

You wave back.

Light streams from the glass doors. You blink a few times, adjusting to the sudden change of brightness. Circus-themed stained glass decorate the front entrance. One of the less tacky – but still tacky – designs of this hotel.

Sir Pentious taps the glass with the tips of his finger, clinking with each tap, and his eyes water in excitement. His nose crinkles when he takes a deep breath. You weren’t aware he even owned a nose. Sir Pentious fiddles with the flap of his hat, and bangs on the door.

Your smile strains after a minute of banging.

A young lady with long, white hair creaks the door open. You recognize her from the commercial.

Sir Pentious’ flap open and close with each word as he says, “Why, hello, my dear –”

A punch to the face is his reply.

“Oh dear!” you screech. Sir Pentious drops to the ground, and you kneel next to him, a steady hand on his slimy shoulders. “Have you no manners?”

This insolent girl points her spear and stomps a foot on Sir Pentious. She snarls, and her glare hardens.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Sir Pentious’ tongue slithers out as he holds a peace-sign. “I come in peacccccceeeee”

“What are you doing here?” Her spear inches closer.

“Vaggies,” another voice calls out. A blonde with a red pantsuit and a bowtie pokes her head, eyes in a squint. O-oh! You know this lady from the commercial. The Princess of Hell … Cady … Char …Charlie Morningstar! “What’s the problem?” Charlie’s eyes widen when she spots you and Sir Pentious, an honest smile drawn on her face. “Oh, hello again! And hello to you as well!”

“Can you please tell this insolent girl to get her food off this gentleman,” you spit, tilting your nose into the air. Your feathers sharpen when you bristle. “And your weapon away from my face.”

Vaggie takes her foot off Sir Pentious. She holds the spear close, but it’s away from your face.

Sir Pentious straightens into a stand, and the group prattles on.

No one bothers to help you. A huff escapes, and you brush the dirt off your skirt. Absolutely no manners. Insolent and ill-mannered. Would Alastor stay in such a place?

You’ve never laid an eye on someone as unique as this Vaggie. Her hair patterns are similar to wings. It’s almost unheard of to see such a prominent ‘x’. Her flared eyelashes resemble a bird. It strikes you silly. Almost everyone in hell resembles a human body with animal characteristics hidden somewhere. This insolent girl doesn’t appear to have any of that – only miniscule feathers made to appear native to Hell.

“Absolutely!” Charlie exclaims to who you think is Angel Dust. (The porn-star, not the drug. Obviously.) Sir Pentious nods with the sweetest smile on his face. There’s a squeak every time he bobs his head. That hat of his looks nervous. “This place is about second chances and who deserves one more than this…slithery…slippery…special little man.” Charlie takes a peek at you. “Oh, and this feathery…sheddy… and round-eyed woman.”

You do not shed.

You smile at Charlie, and give her your name, “…and I expect it to be used.”

Angel Dust whips to Vaggie. “Aren’t you supposed to protect this place?” he says and turns to you. “How are we even sure we can trust this lady – no offense, toots.”

“None taken,” you say, dryly.

Charlie’s eyes water when she turns to Vaggie, who easily relents with a sigh.

You’re thrust through the apple and circus-themed doors, squinting at the chandelier. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the design—it reminds you of those old rolled films. Charlie leads you and Sir Pentious further down the hall, all but pushing you in. Vaggie and Angel Dust lag a few steps behind.

Charlie waves her arms to go into an enthusiastic point. “So…this is our bar,” she says. Husk drops his drink, a scowl on his face, “and the bartender. This is the curtain, and this is the new wall after Sir Pentious broke the last one. And this is—”

Vaggie calms her down.

The bar clashes with the red wallpaper of the hotel. It’s almost as if someone just dropped it there, and etched it to the very wall. The wood is firm underneath your touch and feels exactly like what wood should feel.

You turn towards the bar and take your seat. Husk focuses on his drink. “Hello,” you say with a gentle voice that should not be mistaken for kindness. “It’s good to see you, old friend.”

Husk chokes and splatter out his drink, but you only smile at him. He coughs and his ears droop low. “Uh…yes,” he starts. “Good to see you as well.”

“There’s no need to be nervous.”

“I’m not.”

“Good.”

You run your finger across the skeleton wrapped around the bar post. A memory tickles your brain. This is one of the many specimens you owned. It took one whole month to strip the muscle off its tight hold on the bones, and another month just to clean, bleach, and wire together. The heads above the bar sign were a gift to you, and the skeletons were your gift back.

The neural spine pokes your finger as you tap each one. “I see you’ve set up shop here.”

Husk scowls, taking another swig of his drink. “Not much of a choice.”

“And tell me,” you start, “how long have you been here?”

Husk doesn’t answer you.

Charlie calls your name, and waves you over. “Over here,” she says pointing to where Niffty plays with some kind of one-eyes cat, “we have our maid—Niffty!”

Niffty hops on Sir Pentious. “The bad boy is back!” she exclaims, pulling him closer, eyes wide and shaking. A bead of sweat drops from Sir Pentious’ hat. “Never leave me again.”

“We’re about 80% sure she’s harmless….” Charlie prattles on.

“Hello, Niffty.” You smile at her.

She jumps off Sir Pentious, landing with a small ‘humph’, and strides to you with her pointy short legs. She calls out your name.

You squat, meeting her eye. “It’s great to see you again—Is Alastor forcing you here?”

Her eyes shine with an innocent type of glee. “Yes! Yes! Yes!” She claps her hands. “I get to chase all the bugs here.” Nifftly leans closer to you, giggling. “Can I be strapped to your table again? I love it when you slice me open.”

“Maybe next ti—”

Charlie grabs your arm, hauling you forward. “Oh! Uh, Alastor! Our gracious facility manager! You've met our newest guest Sir Pentious…hehe…,” she tells him. Charlie keeps pulling you, only stopping when you stand before a grand staircase. “These two will be our special wonderful guests!”

Alastor does little to show you what he feels, there’s just that same empty grin.

He bought a new coat, you note. This new one has white streaks on the new collar and less stripes. Guess some things were more important than others.

You slip out of Charlie’s tight grasp. “I think you’re mistaken, my dear,” you say. “I’m not a guest— just a visitor.”

You hold your husband’s gaze and greet him.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

“It’s good to see you,” you say, a smile drawn on your lips. “How are you doing on this wonderful morning?”

Alastor turns to you, drops an item into his grocery basket, and blinks. “I am amazing!” he says. He grabs your hand with his gloved ones and shakes it. His hands are warmer than you expect them to be. “Alastor. Pleasure to be meeting you. Quite the pleasure.”

You chuckle at him. “Yes, I’m aware of who you are.”

“Oh, how lovely!” He waves his fingers. “ are you on of my many fans?” His smile strains, and there, you see it, on the corner of his cheek. His nose flares and his smile takes the appearance of a snarl. Maybe it was the other way around.

“A bit,” you admit, adjusting your hold on the basket. “How are your stitches, Sir?”

His eyes widen—brown eyes, you note. “The good doctor!”

“I think you mean the good nurse.”

“Oh yes, yes,” he hums and inches the basket away from your gaze. “I’ve been taking my medicine, and replacing my dressing every three days, just like you said.”

“Good—that’s great to hear. No more accidents?”

“None!” He laughs. “And if one does happen, I’ll be sure to present you with an injury that is only hours old.”

A giggle slips through your lips. “That’s even better to hear,” you say. You clear your throat, tightening the hold on your basket. “I’d hate to take even more of your time. I’ll let you go on with your day.”

A firm grip on the basket handles keeps your feet planted on the glossy floor of the general store. “Not so fast, my dear. I think you still owe me,” he says. Your teeth bare into what you hope is a polite smile. “You promised to show me your marvelous embroidery the next time we meet! You’re not the type of lady to go back on your word now, are you?

“You sure do know how to put such ladies into a tight spot.”

Alastor laughs, breathy and light. “I assure you; I don’t mean to. I tend to get very excited about art

“Well, with you holding my integrity hostage, and the addition of such lovely enthusiasm, I find myself having trouble refusing.” You reach into your purse and pull out a clean handkerchief. “Sadly, I wasn’t expecting the general storm to be an art gallery, so this will have to do.”

And there it is again, that same breathy and light laughter. “They really do have everything in here

Alastor takes your handkerchief with steady enthusiasm, studying each stitch carefully. It’s one of your simpler designs—tiny flower bouquets scattered across the fabric. Your eyes are drawn to the contents of his basket: rope, strong acids, latex gloves, rolls of plastic wrap, and other such interesting items.

“You have such beautiful handiwork.”

“You can keep it if you wish,” you tell him. “I have thousands back home, and I’m always weak to such flattering compliments— a real boost to my ego.”

“Splendid!” Alastor slips the handkerchief into his coat. “I love receiving gifts from fans.”

You smile at him to hide your frown. You are not some fan-girl. “Of course.”

Alastor is following you.

The conversation ended several beats of silence ago, but he trails behind your every step. You skip the aisle where they sell produce, stop to grab some eggs, ask the butcher for 50g of chicken liver, and smile back when he smiles back. You sigh and lead Alastor to the end of the general store, and into an aisle.

You snatch a glass bottle of chemicals off the shelf—they really do have everything here. “Going for a hunt soon?” you ask, and read the label.

His smile brightens as he says, “Why yes! There was this wonderful prey that I spotted the other day, and I’m just dying to have his head hanging on my wall.”

You offer him the bottle. “You have a lovely coat. It would be a shame for it to be ruined by stains,” you say. “This always does the trick when dealing with the redder parts of my job.”

He takes the bottle from you.

“Take this as well,” you say and reach into your basket. “It’s the last bottle of 12% hydrogen peroxide in this store, but you need it more than I do. A ratio of fifty-fifty of this and a bit of hair developer in a bucket of water should brighten up your bones. Just let it soak for a day. Oh…and just in case, those two chemicals are safe to mix. You should avoid doing so, but an accident wouldn’t hurt you.”

Alastor offers his basket, and you drop the bottle along with the other hazardous substances. “You sound certain.”

“That is because I am.”

Fate has granted you a humorous shopping companion, and you decide to stop fighting it. Alastor follows you to the bread aisle.

You point to the top shelf. “Can you…?”

He drops the bread into your basket, and stares at you with what you think is curious tenacity.

“My father works as a butcher,” you say, sighing. “He prides himself on catching the venison he sells. We don’t believe in wasting a precious body, so we use it until there is nothing left to give. He came back from his own hunt and wanted to add another antler to his display

Alastor hums. “Won’t you need these then?”

“There’s still a bit leftover sitting in his workshop. I just came to get an extra bottle.”

Alastor continues to follow. “Do you often aid your father in his work?”

“Not as frequent as when I was a teen, but I still aid him when I have the time to do so,” you say. “It’s how I got to be so normal around a knife —the sharp ones are the best, they cut right through the skin, and with enough force, the bones as well. I keep a little collection of bones at home.”

“Such interesting hobbies you have.”

You pick up two coffee bags and hum. “Thank you.”

His bowtie is crooked. You point to inform him and reach out to straighten it. Alastor jerks away and spins to reach into the shelf behind you. “I rather detest owing favors, and you have done me two,” he says, offering you an entirely different brand of coffee beans. “I suggest you try this one. It’s flavors are far richer.”

You offer your basket and Alastor drops it right in.

You eye his basket once more. “Will that be all you’re purchasing?”

He nods, smiling at you.

You smile back.

Well, isn’t this just lovely? Well-dressed gentlemen really are your favorite.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Charlie whips her head, mouth wide as she stares at you and then at Alastor. Angel Dust has an arm on his hips, his brows furrowed and mouth quirked to the side an awkward but rather cute frown. Sir Pentious’ hat squints at you with what you assume is confusion—you can’t really tell. Sir Pentious’s tongue sticks out of his bewildered and crooked frown. “Oh! How nice,” Charlie says after a beat. “So, you two know each other?”

“Partners,” you say

“Friends,” Alastor says

Your smile strains as you say, “To be called a friend by the Radio Demon is quite the honor.” Alastor wipes his monocle with a proud puff.

Angel Dust whistles, leaning on the railing with the first set of arms crossed, and the second propped on his hip. “Didn’t think Freak would be the type to have friends.”

“Neither did I!” You say with a loud laugh. “Well, that’s what I am – a f̵̼̎r̴͔̃i̶̦̍e̶͕͠ṋ̸̀d̶͚̋.” You smoothen your puffed-up feathers. “Apologies.”

More introductions are done. Charlie insists on giving Sir Pentious his first lesson on apology. It goes about as well as you think.

Charlie winces a bit “….Ooooookay,” she says and inhales to plaster a huge smile. “Why don’t we… uh… take a look at the kitchen!”

Angel Dust takes one look at Charlie’s enthusiasm, winces, and says he’s getting a drink.

Charlie’s death grip on Sir Pentious stays firm as you trudge to the kitchen. She stalls at every painting to explain its history, and introduces every crack on the wall, showing it off with an enthusiastic glee. Even the water-stained wallpaper gets its own special moment during the tour. (Where is that ill-mannered girl when you need her?)

You lag a few steps behind. “Alastor…”, you say as a greeting.

Alastor matches your pace, using his microphone as a cane. With the very tip of his fingers, he plucks a stray feather off your hair with a coy smile that reaches from ear to ear. “I’m sure you’ve been wondering how I’ve been fairing these last few years,” he says, spinning that microphone of his and waving his hand like some kind of street performer.

“Has it really been that long?”

“Yes, I know I’ve been absent for some time,” he starts. “It’s nothing serious; I assure you. It’s nothing I cannot handle as well.”

“My goodness, and here I thought you were occupied at work.” Your teeth flash when you smile. “But in any case, it’s quite… kind… of you to soothe what little worry this friend might have for you.” Alastor and his microphone laugh at you, but you hum with satisfaction when his eyes narrow into a glare.

Charlie and Sir Pentious wave their hands, calling you from across the hall, and you hasten your steps.

The kitchen intimidates you. So many large and metallic machines. You’re sure it would be a living hell should you ever need to operate such an unorthodox set of appliances.

Copper-red tables fill the space, and similar colored cabinets stick to the wall. Such peculiar stoves they have in this establishment. There seems to be no space for the gas tank, nor a gas burner, just some flat glass with weird markings. You prefer the appliances stashed at your home.

“This…,” Charlie starts, winding her arms to a point, “…is the kitchen!”

Sir Pentious’ flaps extend, his arms rocking with excitement. “Such lovely metallic inventions.” He slithers to counter with a dip that appears to mimic some kind of skin. There’s some type of yellow liquid. “This bubbly torture deviccceeee is my favorite.”

“Uhhhhhh…I love that you love the kitchen appliance,” she says with an honestly gentle smile. “But that’s actually an oil fryer.” Charlie crosses her arm into a big ‘x’. “But no torturing is done here, no siree.”

“What a peculiar shape for an oil fryer to be,” you say, taking a look. Alastor glances over your shoulder to take a peek as well. “And there’s so much metal around—did you run out of paint, perhaps?”

Charlie frowns, her shoulder dropping low. “I’d love to add different colors to the machine, but Vaggie says it would take up too much money and time.”

Her frown lasts a second before she’s smiling again.

“Oh oh oh! You should take a look around. See if there’s anything you might want to add.” Charlie drags you towards one of the cabinets at the back. “We each have a shelf dedicated to our own snacks, but I always love to leave cookies on the communal snack pantry.”

Charlie prattles on, introducing each section of the cabinet. You watch Alastor warily when he shows his teeth. He wiggles his fingers across the air, reaching towards the shelf where Charlie just mentioned Vaggie storing her personal snacks. You slam the cabinet door before he reaches them.

Soft static fills the kitchen air.

“Go on,” Charlie urges. “Take a look around – I know some species of Sinners have specific dietary needs.” She props a hand on her chin. “Like Angel! He can’t seem to be able to have any milk—I wonder why? But he just keeps drinking it anyway for some reason.”

Does the Princess of Hell not know what Lactose Intolerance is? Maybe because she’s never lived as a human. It’s quite humorous, you suppose. A hell-born trying to guide a human, with little to no insight about humanity. Could this be the reason why she’s so naively optimistic?

Sir Pentious’ smile widens, and so does his flap. “You’re… giving…me permission to poke around?”

“Er…yes?”

You open a random cabinet door, and huh…

On the shelf, towards the back, you have the same set of spices in your own kitchen. One of the bottles here has its label stained and fraying at the edges. Another bottle is nearing empty, and the corner of the cap has been chipped off. There was a time, when your own set of spices was stained with oil, and its label frayed because of the constant picking to the edges.

Yesterday, you threw out a set of unopened bottles of spices, its seal still clinging to the caps and brimming with unused flavor, and replaced it with the same set of sealed spices. It’s a waste of your money to keep throwing out something that you never use, but…but…you find it in your grocery basket every single time.

Alastor closes the cabinet with a gentle click.

Your smile fades, and he holds your gaze.

“You are shedding all over my kitchen floors.” Alastor presents you with a bundle of your feathers bunched up on his palm. His grin mocks you.

You turn away, heading where Charlie and Sir Pentious converse. You do not shed.

Alastor pops out of your shadow, towering over you as he inches closer. “Long day?” he says with a hum, that smile still on his face. “You don’t usually start molting until the mid-summer.”

“Oh yes,” you say with a hum, that frown still on your face. “This day has been quite long. How very generous of you to check up on this friend of yours.”

He holds the feathers he’s collected, examining them with a careful eye. “With this rate, you’ll be able to gift a whole pillow.”

Your frown deepens. “Lovely,” you murmur. “I’ll make sure to do so.”

Alastor twirls his microphone and lands it with a soft thunk. He studies you for a second. “Rosie’s last husband got eaten by a shark,” he says. “Not even a loan shark—just a proper dead shark. She swore vengeance on the creature for taking a bite before she had a chance to.”

“What?” you say, and you can’t help but chuckle. “Is that what happened to him? She would be so vague about it when I ask.”

Alastor draws a line along his face, mimicking a smile with his fingers. “Much better, indeed.”

Charlie insists on showing the view from the top of the Hotel. Her arms cross around your own as she chatters about everyone and everything. It’s refreshing to meet a soul as honest as hers.

The elevator ride is painfully slow. The music strains your ears, and this battered metal death box jerks with every floor.

Sir Pentious and his hat scowl at the ‘absolutely inferior ssssmmelting of this handle, Charlie’ and ‘this piss poor wiring. The endsss are not aligned to the proper sssssafety guidelineeeesss’ or something.

Charlie listens in on every word, nodding to indicate that she hears each and everyone. It makes you smile. Alastor picks at your stray feathers with the tip of his fingers, preening the areas you have difficulty reaching.

Moments too late, the elevator doors open with that heavenly ding.

“The view up here is helltastically a-mazing!” Charlie informs the group. “Alastor, you often hide up here or inside the radio tower. It’s really good, right?”

Alastor switches his hold on the microphone, swinging to catch it. “Quite helltastic indeed!” he says. “ I get to see the whole city underneath my very feet.”

Sir Pentious nods. “I, too, would love to sssseee the city underneath me!”

Alastor swings a door open, gesturing for the group to enter like a gentleman. Charlie whispers an audible ‘awww’ at the sight and saunters right in. Sir Pentious follows along, slithering behind her.

He shuts the door when you take a step forward, separating you from Charlie and Sir Pentious.

There’s still that never ending smile on his lips as Alastor strides to the other end of the hallway, playing with his microphone. You follow behind in silence. Alastor opens a different door, and this time, you step through.

Alastor closes the door, leaving you and him together, alone, on this flimsy balcony. He beams at you, taking a step forward—

You slap him.

Radio static glitches from his microphone. There, on the corner of his cheek, you see the strain in his smile. His eyes harden into a glare, his nostrils flare, and his smile takes on the appearance of a snarl.

The air around you starts to gray with static. Symbols carve themselves into the space.

You slap him again, staring down at him.

“Is that all you came to do?” Alastor says to you with a low snarl, but the symbols dissolve and his antlers shrink.

You turn towards the view, propping a hand on your chin. “Such harsh words for a friend,” you say with a sarcastic smile. “It’s a wonder why you don’t have more with such a dazzling personality. At any rate, it’ll be impossible to find yourself a wife.”

His eyes twitch, and Alastor strikes the ground with his microphone. “Well, consider it an honor,” he says, inching closer, mimicking your smile. “Not many can say such words to me, much less be able to strike my flesh

“Maybe they should—someone certainly has to.”

Alastor still has a smile—he always has a smile. You watch as his eyes morph into radio dials, and the absolute audacity of that man to look at you like that.

Your feathers sharpen and crack at the sight. “D̷̝̈́o̷̞͊n̷̟̂'̷̗̏ť̵͔ ̴̱̀f̷̳̓u̴͍̓c̷̛͕ḳ̵͝ ̴̲̽w̸̞̑í̵̞t̴̼̐ḥ̷͝ ̵̫͌m̸̻̔e̸̡͘!— you never have, so don’t start. Don’t test me—not today, my deerest,” you say, hissing at him.

“What is it that you want, exactly?” he says, glancing down at you. “Unless you are a child, I expect you to use your words.”

“You know I’m not just some friend — you do not allow yourself to make such connections. We’re partners,” you tell him, and you don’t know why you remind him when he should already know. Was it in fear that he forgot? “But you left without as much as a word.”

“Was it that I left? Or was it that I left you?” Alastor says with casualty as if to show you such dismissal, and oh…yes, your husband can be a cruel man, indeed. Time and sweet smiles made you forget.

You rub your hands on your face, taking one deep breath. “I want what I deserve—an explanation,” you say. “That’s all I need as your wife.”

It’s his silence that makes you turn away.

“I see…” Your face falls. “Perhaps, it was a mistake to seek you out. A fool’s errand.”

You study the sinners below. The whole city really can be seen from underneath your very feet. (You ignore the trembling of your fists. You’re a doctor, for fucks sake. Your hands don’t tremble…at least, they never have before.)

Hesitant, but gentle touches pick at your feathers. Alastor preens you with warm hands. “You are not a fool, my love,” he says. “I would not be yours if such were the case.”

You harden your heart for you cannot let this man see the cracks. “This is not what I wish to hear,” you say, voice steady.

Alastor does not answer you.

“Will you just stay silent every time?”

“Yes.”

Finally, you meet his gaze. You hold it as much as he holds yours. “ There is not a thing in this world that you do not do without reason,” you say slowly. “However, I’m not sure if your silence is because you cannot or if it’s because you will not explain yourself to me. Which is it?”

There is nothing on his face that you can read, just a small steady smile that tells you nothing. “I will not.”

“I know you, my deerest, and I know that you’ve never once led me astray.” Your grip on the railing tightens painfully. This day has been long. “Then all I need is your word that you will return to me with that smile of yours when you’ve accomplished what you need to do.”

Alastor smiles at you, twirling his microphone. “We can even shake on it.”

You shake your head. “This is not a deal,” you say. “This is your wife demanding that you do so.”

“Then it shall be done,” Alastor says, inching close enough for his warmth to spread. He turns to you and pokes his cheeks to indicate a smile. "You look much more radiant with one."

You bare your teeth at him, giving a dry smile. “Much better?”

“Indeed.”

You study the sinners below once more, but this time your hands stay steady next to Alastor’s own. Well, Charlie was correct, the view is helltastic. The entertainment district blinds you, but only for a second. And when you sharpen your vision, you can faintly make out acid clouds forming on the outskirts of the city. You should have grabbed an umbrella on your way out.

“I heard you on the radio today,” you say.

He glances at you, his smile widening ever so slightly with smugness. “And you came all this way for me?”

“Well, that is what good friends do for each other.”

Alastor points his nose to the air with a huff.

“I only jest, my deerest,” you say, chuckling at him. “ I came all the way here to see if I’ve been widowed a second time, or just dumped like a common rag.”

“Is that so?”Alastor hums with dissatisfaction. “I’m sure you mentioned something about not noticing such a long disappearance.”

You hold his gaze, inching your hand to cup his cheek. You stop inches above his skin, and your palm hovers enough for Alastor to feel the warmness you hold on your hands. “Don’t pout, my deer,” you tell him, softly, oh so very soft as you caress the air. “Of course, I noticed your absence.”

You clap your hands together with the brightest and most innocent smile you can muster.

“But if I told you that, my deerest,” you start, “I feared that big head of yours would implode if I fed your ego.”

Alastor laughs, and his real voice bleeds in as he does. “That humor of yours has been my most wonderful companion all these years.”

You smile with satisfaction. “My, my, you make such fine compliments.”

His smile relaxes. “I do, indeed!”

“Just as you say that my humor makes a fine companion,” you say as you laugh, bright and heavy, “that smile of yours has been mine.”

A knock breaks the moment.

The door swings open, slow and hesitant. Charlie pokes her head, and her hair droops to the sideways. Behind her, Sir Pentious waves at you. You wave back.

“Oooooooohhhh….yikes,” Charlie says, shrinking deeper into the door. “Am I interrupting? I could just go an—”

“Not at all my dear,” you say. “Come right in. You have such a lovely view, and things like this are better when shared.”

Charlie swings the door wider, sauntering right in, and grabs your hand, squeezing it. “You could live here as well!” she says. Behind her, Sir Pentious nods with the sweetest smile you’ve ever seen. “We accept everyone.”

You flicker your gaze to Alastor. “I already have a home,” you find yourself saying. “And this place is far too close to the city. So much honking and blasting aren’t good for my ears.”

Charlie pouts, but she doesn’t press you.

The view is better when shared. Charlie points at every detail and explains everything you see. The sky darkens to a red, and too soon, it’s time to leave.

There’s a warm, but firm, hand resting on your back when you walk out the door, down the hall, and into the elevator. Alastor keeps his hands steady, even when you reach the common room.

Vaggie is the first to greet your group—well, it’s more appropriate to say she greets Charlie, and you just happen to be there. There’s a bag by her feet. “I was able to find the costumes you need for the exercise,” she says. “Even the giant lollipop is here.”

Charlie squeals. “Thank you thank you thank you!” Her excited gaze filters to you. “I have this wonderful game in mind, and then we could fo a bit of some of that good ol’ roleplay.” Angel Dust quirks a smile from the couch. “You should totally sta—”

“I’m afraid not,” Alastor says, drumming his fingers on his microphone. “I think it’s time for our visitor to head home. She’s had quite a long day.”

“Oh, of course. No worries!” Charlie says, giving you a bright smile—a real genuine and honest smile. “Feel free to come by anytime. The Hazbin Hotel’s doors will always be open should you change your mind.”

Vaggie scratches her face. “Before you go, I want to apologize for this afternoon,” she says. “It wasn’t right of me to be so hostile—I’m sorry.”

“Thank you, my dear. I understand,” you say quickly, ignoring the static behind you. “You were protecting something you cared about. I find great value in those who do.”

Vaggie smiles, and maybe she’s not too bad after all. “Thank you.”

From the couch, Angel Dust props his legs and waves at you. “And you’re welcome to open these doors any day.”

Alastor leads you to the door. You wave back at Niffty and Sir Pentious, whose eyes water as he frowns. Alastor’s hand stays firm as you trudge down the hill, past the rusted gate, into the city, and to the correct bust stop.

“You sure know how to find the most interesting groups of people, my deer,” you say. “Charlie and that hotel of hers are wonderful.”

Alastor adjusts his monocle. “Well, you know me. I see potential, and I follow it wherever it leads.”

“Should I be worried?” you say, chuckling. “The last time you saw potential, it ended with us married.”

“Not at all, my love.”

“You should continue to stay at the hotel,” you find yourself saying. “There’s just something about it—I think you’ll pick up quite a lot from your time there.”

His bowtie is crooked. You point to inform him, and reach out to straighten it. Alastor inches closer. The fabric is smooth underneath your touch. There’s stray lint on the shoulder of his coat, and you brush that away. You grab the lapes and adjust its fit, smoothing the fabric beneath your fingers.

“Much better?” he asks.

“Indeed,” you say, softly.

“I will see you soon,” he says, and you hear the unspoken promise and question hidden beneath his words.

“Good.”

Alastor tilts your chin with the tips of fingers. (And oh…oh. His gloves are off, and his hands are warmer than ever) He presses his lips on your cheek.

That blasted bus arrives too soon. You step inside, but turn to your husband and say, “Next time, when you disappear for several years, I expect to be informed and not just left with a vague note,” you say with a huff. “And when you return, I also expect to be the first to be informed.”

“Of course.”

“See to it that you keep your word.”

The bus door closes, and you take your seat. You smile to yourself and lean back on the crusty bus fabric. Patting your pocket, you take out a single gold band, slipping it on your finger.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

That habit of recklessness in moments of excitement was something your father hoped you’d grow out of. Thinking things through never really was one of your many strengths when such an exhilarating opportunity presents itself.

You scold yourself for not double-checking for gloves. Measure twice, cut one, and all that. But no matter, you’ll push through as always, clawing and digging to unearth the treasure left behind.

Your scalpel fits into your palms. Throughout this Earth, no… not just Earth, but Heaven and Hell as well, nothing will ever be as perfect.

You sigh, breathy and exhilarated, and begin.

‘First, do no harm’

But this…this does not harm a single living being.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Next Part: |Not Everything You Hear From The Radio Should Be Trusted| If you guys know who Octavia and Stolas are, that's what I imagine when I think about the reader's hair. Also, maybe some of you noticed, but I'm very relaxed when it comes to formatting my writing. Its why I use quite a lot of ellipses and em dashes and utilize italics and spaces. But the one thing I was very strict about was not to use the word, "miss". So there are no "You miss..." and "I miss..." But the words are there and spoken beneath actions and thoughts, hidden and unspoken, but known. My inbox is always open because I'd like to know what your favorite unspoken "I miss you" is/are. I have my own favorite ones as well.

#alastor x reader #Alastor x wife!reader #hazbin hotel x you #alastor x you #alastor the radio demon #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #Hazbin x reader #Hazbin Hotel imagines #Hazbin imagines #Hazbin Hotel x reader #alastor #alastor x wife reader

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amimuu · 1 month

Note

A splurg of questions if thats okay: What does VTA Lamb and Narinder do on a daily basis? What are their sleeping arrangments? Routines? How does Narinder navigate the touchy awkwardness currently? Does Lamb ever ask anything of Narinder outside of being put to rest when all is done? (Is there ever any hesitancy about that still, on either side?)

OHHHHH ASKING THE IMPORTANT QUESTIONS I SEE

Alr lemme think UHHHHH….this is gonna be a long one brace yourselves

What do they do on a daily basis/their routines?

Well, excluding crusades…

Lamb: basically it goes like, morning sermon, checking on the disciples individually, checking on how they are doing on supplies and stuff like that, and just going around the cult making sure everything is working properly, sometimes sending a follower or two on errands to get more stuff if needed. They normally have a little checklist with them to not forget (which they tend to make the night prior). They also go on walks sometimes, in which Narinder usually tags along (I think I answered an ask about this before but am not sure). They walk in silence 80% of the time, and sometimes they stop by the Lamb’s favorite spot (a tree up a small hill close to the limits of the cult grounds). After this Lamb goes back to their room and does NOT sleep unless they really really need to (which can be up to 6 days without sleep)

Narinder on the other side: wakes up, Morning sermon, checking the protection he set around the cult is still working, cleaning the Lamb’s statue (and leaving offerings, usually flowers), following the Lamb around a bit, checking on the Lambs’ memorial altar (set up by the lamb when they first started crusading. Narinder started taking care of it after they died), and then if it is a silent walk day he just goes and tags along. Sometimes he tries to give gifts to the Lamb, but they are usually rejected or immediately disposed of. Still, doesn’t discourage him. After the walk or if there was no walk at all he goes back to his hut and sleeps. Lemme say that cat sleeps a LOT. Which brings us to the next question

Sleeping arrangements:

It’s basically like this.

Both their sleep schedules are concerning for very different reasons. Lamb doesn’t sleep nearly enough, practically avoiding it like the plague. It was easier when they had the crown cuz sleeping was more of a choice, but now that they are stuck in a semi-mortal body that has semi-mortal needs it’s not as easy as it was. They dread it. Because every time they go and sleep there’s a new nightmare waiting for them. About what? About what not, really. They are haunted. And funnily enough Narinder barely shows up in these dreams, and when he does it’s usually in the form of a memory or a comforting presence. Usually

So yeah avoid sleep at all costs!!

And then there’s Nari who just sleeps an unhealthy amount of time ever since he was freed. The cultists assumed he probably needed big amounts of sleep for some reason and just rolled with it. They were wrong. In fact Narinder doesn’t need to sleep AT ALL, but he enjoys it. He finds his dreams comforting especially cuz a certain someone tends to show up. Before resurrecting the Lamb this was his way to process his grief, but after resurrecting them he is finding it very hard to leave the habit behind and honestly? Why should he. Now,

How does Narinder handle the touchy awkwardness?

Oh boy does he struggle. Lamby here tolerates his presence but they made their point clear. They don’t wanna talk. And Narinder respects that, begrudgingly. He does however, bring them gifts as mentioned before, hoping this can somehow ease things a little between them (This is the way in which he knows to give affection, offerings.), but naturally it is ineffective. He is protective of them too, but mostly from afar.

Does Lamb ever ask anything from Narinder aside from their initial request?

Sometimes, but it’s rare. They do however ask him at one point to please take better care of himself. And other stuff later on in the story. But currently, just the occasional “Please go get this or that” or asking for his company during crusades, mostly cuz that’s both their responsibility.

And so we get to the best one.

Is there any hesitancy about it?

OH BOY IS THERE. A big chunk of the main arc revolves around what they both truly want and have wanted for a long time but their lack of communication kept them from. Narinder straight up hates the idea of having to let Lamb go again. While the Lamb is exhausted and feels betrayed, but a part of them wishes to remain with Narinder for the rest of eternity, so that makes things more complicated

See, they’ll eventually talk this all out but that’s after they actually start crusading and are basically obligated to spend time together. Everything I listed here eventually starts to shift as the story progresses , shifts that include Narinder getting into knitting to avoid sleeping all day, discussions about what ifs, lamb accepting some gifts and eventually asking Nari to please not go where they can’t follow. Fun stuff :]

HOPEFULLY THAT WASNT TOO LONG OF A RAMBLE (who am I kidding it was UHM.) and also hope very much it answered your questions :>!!!

#cult of the lamb #vows to ash au #ami answers!#they’re just silly #this’ll eventually all be covered hehe

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rollercoasterwords · 10 months

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tried to read wfrau as i saw people rec it, but there's something bothering me in that fic. i don't like the alpha-male-ification of remus in wfrau. remus is not a beast who can fight another beast werewolves. he was a timid, sheltered boy in canon, but it's like you're making him fit into the fanon toxic wolfstar heteronormative box. it feels weird to read. please don't make me start on why it seems like you hate sirius OR use sirius as a self-insert to indulge in your fetishization of remus. like why do you write sirius as abused, when it was canonically remus who was disabled. can you consider rewrite some points in the fic, aligned to canon?

lmao where do i even start with this. uhhhhh okay first of all to answer your question - no, i will not be rewriting to make my non-canon-compliant fic more compliant with canon. if you don't like it, i suggest you don't read it! i'm not writing the story for you, and i'm not really sure why you think it would matter to me whether you like it or not. there are plenty of other fics out there that you can go read.

this fic was explicitly written to be a werewolf-fighting ring au. if you don't like remus fighting other werewolves, then i'm baffled as to why you even started it in the first place, considering that it's clearly tagged "werewolf fighting ring." i don't agree with your interpretation of canon that he was a "timid, sheltered" boy; even if i did, this fic is specifically exploring how the characters would be different in an au, non-canon-compliant version of their world. if the gay romance between two men is too heteronormative for you, there are, again, other fics out there that you can read. and if you don't want to read about "toxic" relationships then u DEFINITELY shouldn't read this fic, because none of the relationships in it are wholesome and healthy lmao. if you think i hate sirius...i don't even know what to say lol. like yeah i hate him so much that i've written hundreds of thousands of words of fanfiction about him. that checks out! and remus is fetishized in this fic for being a werewolf, which is a topic that gets explored in-depth in his pov chapter and is not something condoned by the narrative. i'm assuming you didn't read that far, though, and that what you mean by "fetishization" is the fact that sirius finds him sexy. so. again, i think you probably should just not read this fic if characters being sexually attracted to each other bothers you. i write sirius as being abused because that's the story i wanted to tell; not really sure how remus being canonically disabled is something that would cancel that out? those are two separate things. and remus's canonical disability is his lycanthropy, which....also exists in this fic. and is another topic that gets explored throughout the story.

in conclusion i truly cannot emphasize enough that i am not the person out here reccing this fic, i am not trying to grow an audience or go viral or any of that bullshit. not sure where you got the rec from, but i have actually asked people not to post about my fics on tiktok to try and avoid them blowing up there, because i do not want people like you reading them. i include an entire warning on the first chapter about the fact that this fic is dark and deals with heavy topics; i've tagged the fic thoroughly and have also included "additional tags to be added" to remind people that it's a wip and things are subject to change. all this is to emphasize -- i really, really, really don't care if any person reading the fic dislikes it. i don't care if they dislike it so much that they have to stop reading, because i don't care how many people are reading it in the first place!! i'm writing this story purely for fun, for myself, so i'm going to write what i want to write. even if you intended for this message to be polite, it just comes off as incredibly entitled to ask a stranger on the internet to spend hours of time and labor tailoring a story to your specific tastes, and if you think this type of message is okay to send then i think you should genuinely sit down and reevaluate the way you approach fandom. nobody is making you read fics you don't like, so just....don't read them.

#ok rant over. lol #normally i would just block messages like this but. the fact that this person actually asked me to rewrite #(as opposed to just listing things they dislike)#makes me think it is perhaps someone who's not just a troll + is actually just under the impression that this is an ok thing to send someon #maybe i'm giving them too much credit and it is just someone trolling tho who knows!#wfrau #ask

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maochira · 11 months

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nyaho!!! :D i have a request for lorenzo, zantetsu, raichi, and toki (seperately) if you dont mind.

this is kinda cheesy but bare with me hehehehe. meet-cute!! at a café!! reader is a barista and they (the characters) are just mesmerized by reader's overall aura and friendliness, and they get flustered while ordering thier drink. then, they try to make a move on reader when they're picking it up!!! uhhhhh go crazy go wild do what you want with this byebyeeee :3

HELP THAT'S SO CUTE??? I added Shidou as well because....... I found a pickup line that fits him too much 😭

Requests open! - masterlist

Tags: gn!reader, reader is a barista, fluff, Shidou's pickup line is suggestive

Lorenzo feels as if he's fallen in love at first sight when he enters the little coffee shop and spots you behind the counter. He puts on his best smile and leans over the counter a bit to get a little closer to you, but not too close since he doesn't want to make you uncomfortable. While Lorenzo watches you preparing the drink, he's thinking about what he'll say when he picks up the drink. He's pretty sure a lot of customers have flirted with you already, so he needs to stick out somehow. But when he picks up his drink and gets to look at you again, he's so mesmerized he completely forgets how to speak. The way he's staring at you with a bright blush makes you giggle. "You need anything else?" Lorenzo quickly regains his ability to speak after hearing your question. "You number maybe?" - "Only if you say please."

Zantetsu always gets something wrong when ordering his drink and getting so flustered while standing in front of you definitely doesn't make it easier. But you're patient with him the entire time. No matter how many times Zantetsu gets something wrong, you're happy to help him get his order right. Your sweet personality makes Zantetsu blush and while he's waiting for his drink, he can't stop thinking about you either. He already knows if he won't say anything now, he'll regret it later. So when he picks his drink up at the counter, he leans a little towards you and asks. "So... do you come here often?" His question confuses you, so you respond: "I work here." Zantetsu realizes how stupid his question was, but he tries to play it off "That means if I come here more often, I get to see you again?"

Raichi has rarely been to cafés because he never knows which drink he wants. He's either too picky or indecisive about what to get. But today, he decided to try his luck and get whatever the barista recommends to him - and that just happens to be you. You end up recommending your favourite drink which he happily accepts. "Can I have your name for that order?" You ask, to which Raichi responds with "I could give you my number." It catches you a little off guard, but at the same time, you're a little impressed. Still, you don't want to give in to his little flirt right now because you're at work. "I need to write your name on the cup, you know that?" Raichi sighs and tells you his name, then waits for you to finish his order. He only notices it when he's outside already, but you wrote your number on the receipt.

The moment Tokimitsu put his eyes on you for the first time, he immediately got flustered. He stutters so much while ordering his coffee and even messes up a part of his order, but is too shy to mention that when he realizes it. He figures he'll just have to deal with that. Tokimitsu adores your patience and friendliness a lot. even though he knows it's your job to treat customers nicely, he gets the impression that you're not only so sweet because you have to be, but also because you genuinely want to treat everyone with kindness. When he picks up his drink, Tokimitsu looks into your eyes for solid five seconds while trying to figure out if he should say anything. But then, he gets embarrassed and quickly thanks you before he leaves. Although, this definitely won't be your last encounter with Tokimitsu - and maybe someday, he manages to talk to you properly.

Shidou is a regular customer at your café so you've had your fair share of interactions with him. And because it's Shidou, those interactions have always included a lot of flirting. He's had a crush on you ever since his first visit to the café, so he's been trying to win your heart ever since. Today, he enters the café with his confidence even higher than usual. Instead of saying his order when he steps in front of the counter, he looks you straight in the eyes with a grin on his face and says: "Can you pass the coffee and sugar? Because I think you just made me cream in my pants." You're trying to hold back your laughter but quickly fail at that. "That was the worst pickup line you've ever said." Shidou crosses his arms and acts offended. "Come on! It was a good one." - "No, it really wasn't."

Taglist (sign-up link): @kaineedstherapy12 @gojosorrygeto @luvcalico @remy-roll @truegoist @acacIa @futuristicxie @bluelock4life @https-archangel @userwithlotsoftime @vanitasbrainrot @deerangle3 @truegoist @astruosie @zyuuuu @ririgards @depressed-bitchy-demon @kaiserkisser

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thru-the-grapevine · 2 years

Text

Half-Baked

Pairing: Jihoon x fem!reader

Summary: your job at the bakery becomes increasingly more dangerous the longer the cute new customer frequents it (and the longer your coworker teases you about him)

Word Count: 1.2k

Tags: fluff, bakery au

The first time he came in, you’d taken one look at him and accidentally dropped a tray of brownies you were taking out of the oven. You’d never done something that klutzy before, and it only made you more flustered. Surely if someone as pretty as him lived around here, you’d already know…?

He’d either graciously pretended not to notice the dropped brownies, or was entirely oblivious. He’d ordered a blueberry muffin and tucked his change into the tip jar with a smile at you. You’d nearly dropped the muffin while handing it over.

Vernon called him Cute Muffin Man after that. You dubbed Vernon the Most Insufferable Coworker Friend Ever.

The second time he came in, you’d forgotten you were icing a flower onto a cupcake and stared at him until you felt icing on your hand and saw the blotchy mess you’d made. It was salvageable, but you were sure your face was bright red the whole time you helped him. He’d asked which of the danishes was your favorite, and you’d graced him with an eloquent “uhhhhh” until he said he’d take one of each. He still left his change in the tip jar.

Vernon hummed “The Muffin Man” as the man walked out the door. You cornered Vernon and smudged icing on his cheek.

The third time he came in, the oven timer had just started chiming and you turned it off without a second thought. You managed to make a non-embarrassing conversation with him while he ordered a plate of snickerdoodles from you, learning they were for a reception after a recital he was doing. So he’s a musician.

Halfway through ringing him up, you smelled something burning. The next second the fire alarm went off. By the time you pulled the smoking creme brûlée remains from the oven and fanned both them and the smoke detector, Vernon had already called the fire department, and the man was already gone. He’d left twice the amount for the snickerdoodles on the counter.

You swore you were cursed. Vernon suggested you’d done something to offend the muffin gods. You threatened murder.

The fourth time he came in, he hadn’t come in at all. Vernon handed you the phone, saying someone wanted to order a birthday cake, and you realized too late who was on the other end. You’d glared daggers at a beaming Vernon whilst taking the order down.

“May I have a name for the order?” You’d asked, thrilled to finally have a good excuse to learn his name.

“Oh, my sister will come and pick it up, so I’ll put it under her name,” he said.

Of course. “Would you like any message on the cake?”

“That’d be great, actually,” he said. “I think ‘Happy Birthday, Mina’ would work.”

He’d paused as you scribbled down the message, then said, “Actually, add ‘from your Uncle Ji’ at the end, too. At least my niece will know I wanted to be there.”

Slowly, you grinned. Ji. “It should be ready by tomorrow afternoon.”

You’d promptly pretended to strangle Vernon with the telephone cord once you’d hung up.

And then there was this time.

You were in the back, putting a tray of brioche buns in the proving drawer, when Vernon called, “Hey, the CMM order is ready to be picked up. Grab it out of the fridge?”

“I hate you,” you said with no venom as you closed the proving drawer and made your way to the special order fridge. Vernon had shortened “Cute Muffin Man” to an acronym lately, in another successful attempt to tease you, and it was driving you nuts.

You grabbed the cake box and closed the fridge. “It’s bad enough you’ve got a nickname for ‘Ji’ at all, but it’ll be just my luck for Cute Muffin Man to actually show up when you say it, and ask me what it means, and then I’ll have to—explain…”

You trailed off, slowing to a halt, as you came face to face with the man, himself, across the counter. You felt your stomach drop out your ass.

Vernon at least had the good grace to be abashed. “I, um, I’ll go check on the brioche.”

The sound of the door to the back kitchen clicking shut felt deafening.

The man blinked. “Um. Hi.”

You tried to return the greeting, but your throat was too dry. You cleared your throat and tried again. “I thought you said your sister was picking up the order.”

That wasn’t a hello, idiot, you chided yourself.

“Oh, I.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I ended up being in town, after all. My gig fell through. Thought I’d pick it up myself.”

“Oh. Um. Great.”

My god, you were going to kill Vernon. Curse the muffin gods. Woodenly, you set the cake box on the counter and slid it over.

“Thanks.” He propped the lid open and looked at the cake. “Wow, this looks great. Did you do the icing?”

“I…yeah,” you said.

“It’s so pretty. How much do I owe again?”

Payment. You breathed a sigh of relief; that you could do. You went over to the register and began ringing it up.

The man pulled his wallet from his back pocket once you told him the total. “So…”

You felt your stomach drop out your ass again.

He raised an eyebrow, that smile that always flustered you curling at his lips. “Cute muffin man?”

You hoped Vernon was locking himself in the walk-in freezer back there. “I…my coworker, he, uh…it’s a nickname he…w-well, because of—”

You clamped your mouth shut, feeling the flame of a thousand suns on your face. This is actually the worst, I think.

The bakery door chimed open, and a woman you’d never seen before with familiar features popped her head in.

“Ji’, I love you, but quit flirting with Disaster Bakery Girl and buy the cake or we’ll be late.”

Your mouth dropped open, and you clamped it shut again when the woman smiled brightly at you and popped back out again.

You turned back to the man. His eyes were shut, and you could see the tips of his ears turning bright red. The door jingled shut, but for another long moment there was silence.

“Is she gone?” He asked in an even voice, still not opening his eyes. “Tell me she’s gone.”

“She’s gone,” you said.

He heaved a sigh, shaking his head. “Sisters.”

You took pity on him. “I, uh, have a walk-in freezer in the back, if you want to shove her in there with my coworker…”

His face broke into a smile, and he finally opened his eyes.

You bit your lip. “I swear, I promise I’m not a disaster all the time. You’re just really—”

You snapped your mouth shut again. Good fucking god, can you try not to embarrass yourself for two whole seconds—

“Would you like to get coffee with me sometime?”

You blinked. He…what?

“Maybe?” He added uncertainly when you didn’t speak for a full two seconds.

“I…” You swallowed. “Yeah, I think I’d…yeah.”

His smile was hopeful. “Yeah?”

You couldn’t stop beaming. “Yeah.”

God, he was so cute you were going to die.

He ordered an additional half-dozen muffins for pickup a few days from then. “To go with a coffee date,” he said, winking.

You dropped his card twice trying to process the payment.

He scribbled a phone number under the signature “Lee Jihoon” on the receipt. You liked it better than any tip.

(“So technically I did you a favor,” Vernon said later.

You spent five minutes after that chasing after him around the bakery, brandishing a rolling pin.)

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airenyah · 5 months

Text

15 people, 15 questions

I was tagged by @belladonna-and-the-sweetpeas <333

Are you named after anyone?

no. there's a video game character with my name and occasionally people will bring this character up and ask if i was named after her but no, i wasn't. my parents don't play videogames

2. When was the last time you cried?

i honestly don't remember, i don't actually cry all that much. (so if you see me say things like "i'm crying" in the tags then i'm actually only crying in my heart, i'm not shedding any actually tears dfkfkjdf)

last time i cried was either bc i was really angry or really extremely overwhelmed with life during a period where i hadn't slept much or was on my period or so. orrr what is actually even more likely is that the last time i cried was when i cried from laughter while being with friends. i cry from laughter a lot, actually

3. Do you have kids?

nope. i think i could be a good mother if i had to, but ngl, motherhood and parenting doesn't sound very appealing to me. i am planning on becoming an aunt tho. i'll let my brother provide the grandkids and i'll just borrow them occasionally, spoil them, and then i can always give them back when they get too exhausting or annoying 😂

4. What sports do you play/have you played?

i play baseball for fun once a year with old summer camp friends. other than that i'm not very athletic. in elementary school i used to go to schwimmkurse (swimming courses) which was super fun and it's one of the few sports that i'd consider taking up again if i were to do any. i've always liked swimming (but only in places where i can see the ground and where the water isn't too cold. i feel really uneasy when i can't see the ground and i also freeze easily so i'm not a fan of cold water)

5. Do you use sarcasm?

sarcasm? me? neeeeever, not at all 🤭

(^^^this answer is sarcastic, the genuine answer is yes. yes, i do. <- for those struggling to understand sarcasm, esp in written form <3)

6. What's the first thing you notice about people?

uhhhhh good question, i don't actually know???? maybe their face, idk

7. What's your eye colour?

blue-gray ish. and i have a yellow/green circle around each pupil. i actually really like my eyes, they're my fave part of my appearance 🥰

8. Scary movies or happy endings?

happy endings for sure!! i could never get into scary movies, idk

9. Any talents?

languages, i guess. at least i'm known as the language genius in my family and my friend groups. but to be honest, there's still a lot about language that i don't know and i don't feel like i'm all that great (esp when my language learning progress feels slower than the one of others. which is totally fine by me bc everyone should go at their own pace, but i just don't like it when people call me a language genius bc i feel like in reality i'm not really living up to that. i just happen to know a little bit more about language than those around me, but compared with actual experts? yeah no, i in no way compare...)

but yeah out of all the skills that i have, languages is one my best ones. and i'm also really good at organizing (aka keeping a million lists and making sure all the props are at the right spots and with the right actors and there's enough spares of everything etc lol)

10. Where were you born?

austria 🇦🇹🇦🇹🇦🇹

(NOT the place with kangaroos just so we're clear dkjgkdjf)

11. What are your hobbies?

(internally) crying over fictional characters, then blorbo-posting about it. sometimes i'll also subject irl-people to my blorbo rants (mainly my mother and some of my friends)

i also take violin lessons and thai classes for fun

12. Do you have any pets?

technically no, but really yes. my mom and my brother share a dog and my parents also have two kitties. i go home a lot bc i don't really like staying in my own flat in the city where i study so they do feel like my own pets as well, esp the kitties <333

^this is nika (the dog) and coco (boy cat). they're besties <3

^this is minou (girl cat). she's the youngest and the smallest of them all, so we nicknamed her "die kleine" (the small one (f))

13. How tall are you?

155 cm

14. What was your favourite subject in school?

german, it was the easiest for me

fun fact: the only subject in school that i ever got a frühwarnung in was english lmao. ("frühwarnung" = early warning and it's what you get when you're about to get an f in your report card for a subject. i got an f in english in my report card for semester break, so i had the whole summer semester to get my grade up to a d)

15. What is your dream job?

director!!!! in theater or film, idk, but i just really wanna be a director. and maybe take some minor acting roles on the side, idk. for now i still feel too shy to do any professional acting, despite having gotten acting training for 3 years djkkdjfg

i'm really looking forward to next summer, bc i get to be assistant director at this one theater that i've worked at as an intern for the past two summers. the assistant directors that i've worked with so far at this theater have both sucked and both times i ended up more or less taking on the job myself anyway (to the point where they even paid me for my work despite my position usually being an unpaid one) and so this summer i was like "uhhh guys so what if for next summer's production i just work as an assitant director right away instead of an intern?" and they were like "omg you're hired" 😂

tagging following 15 people:

feel free to ignore if you don't want to do it or tag me in/send me yours if you've already done it, i'd like to read it <3

@newyearknwwme @moonkhao @visualtaehyun @lurkingteapot @callipigio @waitmyturtles @sunnenfinster @cornflowershade @celestial-sapphicss @killiru @gaym3bo1 @nongnaos @dimplesandfierceeyes @gillianthecat @ranchthoughts

bonus: @telomeke i know you've already been tagged, so this is just to ask you to tag me when you've thought of all your answers, i wanna read yours too 👀

#tag game

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brianwashere · 10 months

Note

if your requests are open, could i have benrey with a s/o who's also part of the science team ? i love your writing and thank you !

Uhhhhh YURRRRRRRR. Benrey Benrey Benrey. Love that little freak (affectionate). I wanna put him under a microscope and study him.

Alrighty I did HCs bcc it just felt right and I wanna work through my inbox.

You uhhhh need a player 2?

-you first met bcc you were a scientist and when you checked in he asked for your passport.

-you were confused, but luckily you got the company email so you had your passport on you

-xe was immediately enamored by you

-less in a “man I love him” and more of a “man he remembered his passport. I should give him my PlayStation tag.”

-so it nervously asked for your PlayStation tag

-you had to explain you were an x box user

-he nearly considered losing interest in you then and there.

-anyway

-you’re good buddies with Gordon, you’ve even met Joshua

-so when you and Benrey start dating he’s pretty off put

-he expressed his concern to you but he never even brings up breaking up with Benrey bcc it’s your life and obviously Benrey makes you happy

-even if they’re very very weird

-Coomer and Bubby knew from the beginning that Benrey liked you—he didn’t tell them—they just knew

-they just watched it happen and said not too subtle things

-“oh young love, don’t you remember those times, Bubby?” “I can’t even remember what I ate last night.”

-Tommy was very similar

-“oh look at that, Benrey’s sweet voice is red and pink around you! Red to pink means ‘I think you’re pretty neat!’ :DD”

-even Sunkist knew what was up

-before you got together he’d catch you as you walked into black mesa and say “I don’t think you uhhhh now where you’re going there, pal.” And he’d walk you around black mesa, purposely misleading you so they got to spend more time with you

-when you do get together it’s probably a very awkward and confusing confession

-Benrey’s like “so uh…I need a player two”

-“Benrey, I already told you I have an x box…”

-eventually you two get there though

-Benrey constantly uses sweet voice around/on you (if you’re ok with it, obviously)

-it’s xer love language

-when you first see him in a form that’s not his human-ish one you’re obviously alarmed but after the initial shock you’re very curious

-you are a scientist after all

-it actually makes xem feel really good about themselves

-it is startling to wake up in the middle of the night and see some humanoid figure in the top corner of your room with 30 fluorescent eyes all staring at you

-“you alright, babe?”

-“hm? Oh, yeah. Just watchin you..”

-you figured out they actually don’t sleep

-all in all it loves you to Xen and back

#benrey x reader #Benrey x male reader #hlvrai benrey #hlvrai x reader #hlvrai x male reader #science team #fanfic #fanfic writing #science team reader #science team x male reader #male reader #benrey hlvrai #benrey

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