#out of whisky - ooc | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

polyo-nym-y · 16 days

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Bon Appétit~

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Alastor x Female!Reader

| Warnings: 18+ content. MDNI!! ooc Alastor, established relationship(kinda), quick smut with no plot, biting, blood, cunnilingus, fingering, hair tugging etc |

[Part 2 <3]

Hello, I’m Nym! This is my first time posting my writing ever!

This horny little community has me so inspired I couldn’t help but write something small. (4,666 words to be exact ;3 tried to get the funny devil number).

Also fair warning I wrote this a bit intoxicated so I apologize if it’s poorly written. But I hope you heathens enjoy it nonetheless <3

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Alastor retired to his tower as soon as the sky turned to a dark burgundy. He sat on his bench in front of his radio equipment. Fountain pen in hand and eagerly doodling away with a calm smile. Coat retired to its stand and his sleeves rolled to his elbows. Finding these late nights to be rare moments when he could allow himself to relax.

Though both his pen and music paused as he heard the trap door rustle behind him. “Hm?” Amused, he set his pen down and sits up from the bench. Coming around to the hatch he stood right beside it. A deep inhale taken as his grin grew recognizing the familiar smell of you. Bending at his hips as one hand swiftly opened the door. The other hand held out to offer assistance to his surprise guest.

The sudden opening of the hatch earned a gasp from you. Nearly losing your grip on the metal bars that you climbed up. You blinked at the hand offered to you before smiling and accepting the help eagerly.

“Now what do I owe this pleasure?” His usual cheery showman tone buzzed in your ears. With ease, he helped pull you up through the trap door, kicking it closed after. His eyes curiously noted the wicker basket you held in your other arm. “Well no wonder you had difficulty coming in!”

You chuckled nervously as he immediately points out the basket you brought. But what else did you expect? It’s Alastor, perceptive as ever. “The climb wasn’t so hard but by the time I had reached the door I was pretty tired…” you admitted with a glance running up his unusually relaxed form. His grin somehow managed to only make your own smile increase. “I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything important. I couldn't sleep and thought I could just drop in and say hello!" You watched as one of his brows rose, earning an audible swallow from you. "Well, actually, I haven’t seen much of you today... or this week really. So I was honestly getting a bit curious about what you've been up to.” You wiggled the basket to him before setting it down on a small side table. “This is my apology for bargin’ on in.”

“Like always I appreciate your honesty, dear.” He folded his arms behind his back as he followed you to the table. With your back turned to him he took the time to slowly look you up and down. Noting the sweet white nightgown you wore that ended right above your knees. Your hair was tied back in a loose bun and you were wearing your slippers. All of this told him you really were in bed before deciding to come to him. His thoughts hesitated when he watched you open the basket. Pulling out a glass decanter of whisky and two matching cups to go with it.

You turned to face him, jumping slightly when you realized he had moved so close to you. With a laugh you waved him off. “Why don’t you put on some tunes for us, yeah?”

A staticky hum left him as he watched you for a few more seconds. He’d nod softly before spinning on his heels to do as you requested. One hand manually turning the music back on while the other subtly snapped behind his back. The music loud enough to just barely cover the sound of the hatch door locking.

He leaned against the desk of his radio station and watched you again. His grin soft as he couldn’t help but relax even more with the jazz on. “So! You really don’t have anything you wanted to talk about? Truly just stopping by to see what I’m doing ?” He pushed, teasingly.

You poured each other a glass before approaching him with his. He nodded in thanks as he took it from you. “Ha ha! No...” You stood in front of him with both hands nervously around your cup. His pointed questioning had you avoiding eye contact as you downed the small drink in one gulp. Fighting to not contort your face from the bitter taste.

He couldn’t help but laugh into his glass as he brought it up to his lips. “Really?” You caught his piercing gaze that was sent over the cup, before you watched him take a sip. “Because a nice glass of rye, jazz and sweet company.” He stares into his glass before flicking his gaze down to you again. “I really can’t help but feel like you’re trying to sweeten me up~”

The look he sent down had heat quickly washing over your body. Feeling the warmth settle on your cheeks and between your hips. He was teasing you but he didn’t seem upset by your presence. That thought seemed to encourage you, though you definitely needed another drink before you spilled your guts.

A nervous smile being sent to him as you put your finger up. “One- one moment.” You quickly approached the decanter where you left it on the side table. Your cup was filled with just a shot as you quickly knocked it back.

He finished his own drink before mindlessly setting the empty cup on the desk behind him. His smile stretched into a wide grin as he watched you desperately try to gain some liquid courage. He could easily help you right now, as he had an assumption on what this was about. There was no denying the odd connection the two of you had developed during your time here. Unfortunately, he was thoroughly enjoying watching you squirm and he was a very patient man when it came to torture.

Which is exactly what this felt like to you, torture. Staring into the empty cup for only a moment longer before leaving it on the table with the basket. You took rushed steps back up to Alastor as you shot your gaze up to meet his.

“Go on, darling, speak your mind.” He encouraged you with a shit eating grin. Your embarrassment and nervousness began to twist and settle in your stomach.

“I…” you slowly started, watching him tilt his head. Your gaze quickly shot to the side as the rest of your words came out rushed. “I would like to touch you-“

His brows shot to his hairline as he stiffened. He knew your intentions were along these lines. However, the sudden bluntness still caught him off guard.

A nauseating silence settled between the two of you, save for the jazz that still played in the background. You began regretting saying anything as your mouth opened to try and form words. You wanted to take it back with every fiber of your being. Eyes still glued to anywhere that wasn’t him. “I-uh wait no. I don’t mean like that- well I wouldn’t mind but- what I mean is- look you don’t have to say anything I know it’s a strong no and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable but I just needed to be honest-“

Alastors eyes never left you as he watched your reactions carefully. You never could lie to him and when you did it was never for long and never done well. So he knew your intentions were pure and your words were genuine. Usually, he wouldn’t even bother thinking it over. It never seemed of any interest to him in all his prior years of living and death. However, with you? He found himself weighing his options. Because he also wanted to touch you. He wanted to invade your personal space more than he would usually. You were different to him, it was apparent since day one.

“Alright.” he watched you snap your gaze up to him so suddenly he could’ve sworn he heard your neck crack. Shock written over your features as he pushed himself off from leaning against the desk.

“Wait, what?” You asked stunned as your eyes followed his movements. His body shifted slightly to the bench right beside him, smoothly lowering to sit.

“I’m giving you permission, my dear.” After making himself comfortable he motioned you to come closer. Obediently, you shuffled slowly up to him as he spoke again. “Although we will need to discuss terms first.”

You stopped a foot from his seated form. “Terms?” You questioned half listening. You were more focused on greedily taking in his relaxed state. Shamelessly appreciating the sight of him, no doubt thanks to the two drinks. Your eyes were on his lap, scanning down his exposed forearms and stopping on his large hands that ended with sharp red tips.

“Yes, darling, terms.” He noticed your eyes on other parts of him. Slightly bothered you weren't focused on what he was saying. His hand you were staring at quickly snapped at you and gestured to look up at him. “You didn’t think I’d give you such an honor without getting something in return, did you?” His words were laced with venomous mockery.

With your eyes now held with his you hesitated to speak. Feeling your cheeks start to burn more. “I didn’t.. expect to get to at all, so…” your words were so quiet and uncertain. His ears flicked atop his head as he tried to hear you clearly over the music.

“Speak up, dear, you must use your words properly if we are going to do this.” He leaned back into the bench as he glanced you up and down. Allowing you to deliciously simmer in your own embarrassment. “My terms are rather simple. If I allow you to touch me-“ he placed a hand against his chest. “Then it’s only fair I get to touch you too, right my dear?” Dramatically his hand flicked from his chest to gesture to you. Palm being held out for you to accept. “Deal?”

You swallowed dryly as you stared at his large hand. “You want to touch me?” Eyes flicking between his black palm and his red half-lidded gaze. “And we get like.. free roam? Touch.. anywhere?” The mere thought of having his hands on you had you pressing your thighs together. In this moment, you would let him do anything he wanted to you without hesitation. What you were really worried about was his comfort. If you were to upset him by making him uncomfortable, you’d want to die, again.

A static heavy chuckle was forced from him. The fingers on his outstretched hand flexed impatiently. “I wouldn’t say it’s a want from me.” He lied. “Rather so, curiosity? Yes, let's call it curiosity.” Even now he was going to ensure he had the upper hand. “But if you don't want me touching you and you’d rather just chinning*..” his offered hand curled his fingers in and then withdrew to his lap. “No skin off my nose, dear.”

Physically witnessing his hand draw back had panic rising in you. Like this rare opportunity was about to be lost forever. He watched amused as your eyes widened and you stumbled forward slightly with the force in which you spoke. “NO-“ you both cringed at the sudden rise in volume. “No- I’m sorry. It’s not that I don’t want you to- it’s quite the opposite actually..”

He watched you shuffle closer until your knees hit his. Again, he noticed your gaze lingered on other parts of him rather than his eyes. “Then spill. What do you want?”

You chewed nervously on your bottom lip. “I.. I want your touch on me, Alastor. More than my want to touch you. You’d turn Hell into Heaven if I could only have your attention on me..” His smile widened when you finally raised your eyes to meet his again. “But I’m worried about upsetting you, Alastor. Having permission to freely touch you seems…too good to be true? And to hear you intend to touch me as well? Whether it’s a want or just curiosity I could care less. Fuck, Al, I’ll feed that curiosity however you want.”

A genuine and loud laugh rumbled from his chest. “Oh ho! what a desperate and pathetic display you are giving me.” He cocked his head to the side and narrowed his eyes on you. “What can I say? I suppose I’m feeling rather charitable tonight.” Slowly he leaned forward, his hands sliding down his thighs. His fingers gently wrap around your wrists. Watching carefully for any resistance to his touch. “And I promise, Mon Cher, I’ll let you know if I don’t like something. So you needn’t worry about upsetting me.” Truthfully, he’d be quick to wrench your hands away from any area he didn’t like. “You’ll do the same for me, right?”

With a sneaky smirk he brought your hands to his face. Gently grazing his lips across your knuckles. You couldn’t stop the shiver that ran down your spine as you watched him breathlessly. To his surprise though you shook your head no. “I won’t need to.”

A sadistic glint shined in his ruby eyes as he smirked against your hands. The gentle kindness he planned on showing you began to slip. “Oh? Is that so?” A sudden yank of your wrists had you falling into his chest. His warm hands glided down from your wrists to help guide your knees on either side of him. He fussed with your positioning until he was satisfied with your thighs straddling his lap. Taking a gleeful glance at your flustered expression and rigid body. “You sound so certain. What if I wanted to eat you whole? What would you say then?”

He leaned back into the bench as he observed you intently. Heat settled over your entire body as you stiffly fidgeted on top of him. Embarrassed, you didn’t want to rest your full weight on him. But his hands had a firm grip on your hips, pressing you down ever so slightly to keep you in place.

Sweaty hands hesitantly came to rest on his chest, fingers gently crawling up to the top of his shoulders. “What would I say?” your words slipped from your lips like a whisper. Your desire and need for him outweighed your nerves drastically. His hands squeezed the flesh at your hips when he felt you finally relax into him. Entranced, he watched a soft smile settle on your face before you spoke. “Bon Appétit.”

Chest heaving, nostrils flaring and eyes like a hungry animal. With those words, something snapped in him. It quite literally took everything in him in that moment to not simply swallow you whole right then and there.

His jaw clenched as a loud static began to swarm around the two of you. He felt his mouth water as he swallowed, having to clear the excess saliva that pooled around his tongue. Savor her, he repeated in his head, you must savor your meal. The buzzing static overtook the music completely until it disappeared with a loud pop, earning a flinch from you. His mouth opened with a purr “Merci.”.

Your breath hitched as he leaned down to close the space between you two. His warm lips ghosted across your own, so close yet so far. Every coherent thought you once had was muddled and drowned. The unexpected intimacy that Alastor was giving you had your heart hammering against your ribs. In that moment you decided firmly, you’d completely give in to him and this desire.

One hand of his shifted from your hip and up your side. Talons trailing up until his fingers laced in your hair, pulling the tie that held it up. As you felt your hair fall freely you tried to close the space between you completely. Lips hungrily wanting to capture his.

He was quick, however, as the hand that remained at the back of your head tightened its grip. Fingers firmly tugging at the roots to guide your head back. A desperate whine leaving you as he forced your lips away from his. “What happened to both of us getting to touch? Or is kissing off limits?” You asked half joking as he dipped his head to place a soft kiss under your jaw. His lips settled comfortably on your now exposed throat as he inhaled deeply.

“You are touching, mon cher. A lot more than anyone else has.” He reminded you with a smirk against your flesh. You felt his lips part as warm breath ghosted the vulnerable skin of your throat. Your fingers trailed further up from his shoulders and up the back of his neck. You shuddered against him as his warm tongue licked a wet strip up. “I wonder, do you taste as delicious as you smell?”

“Al-“ you let out a sharp yelp as you feel a hot stinging pain begin to bloom on your shoulder. Instinctively, with your fingers in his hair, you tried to yank his head away much like he did to you. But he refused to be removed from his tasty meal. He let a low growl out with his lips still suctioned to you, a warning. You hadn’t expected him to literally taste you but it was foolish of you to expect anything less from a cannibal.

Your thoughts began to fog as you felt him suck the blood from your wound. His cock twitched beneath you as if the blood he drank from you went straight to his groin. Any previous intentions on partaking on your end of the deal was long gone. You couldn’t care less about where your hands were. The only thing that mattered now was that his hands remained on you.

You bit your lip trying to hold in the small yelps in pain as he attacked the wound he made. Prodding and poking trying to coerce as much blood as he could without literally tearing a chunk from you.

Desperately, needing more than just his feasting mouth, you rolled your hips against his. You stuttered your movements as he sunk his teeth deeper into you in response. Another whimper left your parted lips as his name tumbled out like a prayer. “Alastor-“

He sighed through his nose, having to will himself to release your tasty flesh. Slowly blinking his eyes open as he lifted up with a suctioned pop. Leaning back to take in the beautiful sight of your bloody and bruised shoulder. He watches closely as beads of red quickly begin to pool and drip over your collar bone. Bleeding into the pure white of your nightgown.

“Beautiful, Mon Cher, absolutely beautiful.” His lips parted to show a bloody grin. His eyes were glazed over as if the taste of you was more intoxicating than the drink he had a moment ago. “You did so good.” You felt his grip in your hair loosen as his fingers brushed through. With his now free hand he began to smear the blood on your shoulder, earning a wince from you. “I think you deserve a reward, don’t you?” His hand cupped your cheek and you could feel your blood sticking your flesh to his, like glue. He pulled at your bottom lip with his thumb as he brought his face close to yours again. “Do you want a taste?”

Before you could even begin frantically nodding, he already captured your lips in his. Pulling back just enough to use his thumb to wrench your mouth open. You gave him no resistance as he dove back in. His tongue eagerly exploring the entirety of your mouth. Spreading the taste of your own blood.

He swallowed a muffled moan as both hands slipped to your hips. Fingers digging into clothed flesh as he grinded you into him. “See?” His lips parted from yours with a pink tinged dribble of saliva connecting you to him. “Delicious, aren’t you?”

Quickly, you licked the bloody spittle on his lips. “If I say yes will you-“ a moan interrupted your sentence as his hands continued to grind you against his hardened cock. “-f-fuck please just fucking touch me-“

“I am touching you, mon cher.” His hands slowed to grind on him at an agonizing pace. The friction slick as you fully drenched your panties and began to seep into the front of his pants. “Remember, use your words.”

“Alastor, p-please-“ your words trembled as you tried to retain some sense of composure. But the teasing feeling of him beneath his pants was going to drive you insane. With a shaky breath you leaned away from him. One hand grasping the hem of your nightgown and yanking it up to your chest. Your other hand sliding fingers under the hem of your underwear to pull them down ever so slightly. His gaze shooting down immediately to take in the erotic sight of your pubic hair barely poking out. “Please just eat me already.”

“How could I say no when you’re pleading so sweetly?” In a blink of an eye he had his hands holding you against him. With a chuckle he stood from the bench, his hands cupping your ass to carry you with him. Your own hands quickly grab his shoulders to keep yourself from falling.

You’re swung around as you hear crashing behind you. Alastors shadow-y tendrils quickly swiping his desk clear in order to make space for you. A gasp leaving you as your back is dropped onto the hard surface with a thud. His hands holding your legs at his hips by the pits of your knees. His taller frame towering over you as you lay sprawled under him.

The grin that spread across his face had you squirming. His warm hands pull you by your legs until your ass is completely off the desk. With only your upper half resting against the hardwood, your stomach does flips, feeling like you’ll fall. But his hold on you is firm as he lowers to his knees. Effortlessly, your legs are settled over his shoulders. You’re practically panting in anticipation as you feel him chuckle against your inner thighs. “Nervous, dear? You’re shaking.”

“Shut up-“ A groan is ripped through clenched teeth as he sinks his teeth into the plump flesh of your right thigh. Hissing, you latch your hand into his hair. He gave no reaction to your grip as he enjoys lapping at the new wound. One of his hands sliding up to give your ass a good squeeze.

You hadn’t realized you were clenching your eyes closed until they flew open. Your back arching off the desk as your breathing hitched. The feeling of his warm tongue running up your clothed slit had you feeling sparks. The blood on his tongue seeped into the already damp fabric, adding another stain to you. “F-Fuck- Jesus Christ-“ he ran his tongue up again slowly, ending with a nice flick to your clit.

“Careful, if you moan other men’s names I’ll become rather jealous.” He hummed against your left thigh as he weaseled a hand between your legs. Sharp talons grabbing hold of the fabric of your underwear and tearing it enough to freely expose his meal.

It was a struggle keeping your eyes opened as you leaned your head forward. Freezing, as you were met with Alastors gaze sent over your exposed sex. He was watching you intently as he brought his face closer to your aching core. “I-I think I’d like to see you jealous.”

“I’m sure you would, you naughty thing.” Finally, without anything blocking his touch, you felt him lap his wet muscle up between your folds. A wispy moan leaves your lips as you remove your hand from his hair. Fingers reaching back to ground yourself against whatever you could on his desk.

The taste of you saturated over his taste buds as a pleased groan rumbled in his chest. His hands wrap around your upper thighs in order to hold you in place. His eyes flicked up trying to see what he could of your reactions. He gave up rather quickly though, losing himself to you fully now.

The juxtaposition of his agonizing teasing now being replaced with determined hunger was almost overstimulating. You couldn’t stop the shake in your legs as he twisted his tongue inside of you. The unnatural length of it reached further than you expected.

His name tumbled from your lips so sweetly it only made him crave your taste more. Fingers digging into your hips as he pressed his face deeper into you. Suffocating himself on your scent as his tongue twisted and flicked inside. When his nose pressed against your clit he felt your walls clench. A cheeky smirk forming against your lower lips. A shudder ran down your spine when you felt his tongue slip out from you. But you didn’t feel empty for long as he easily slipped a finger into you, a second quickly following. You felt yourself forgetting how to breathe as he ruthlessly pumped his fingers into your heat. Erotic squelching filled the small space of his radio room. You hadn’t realized until now that the music was off, ensuring he could hear every sound your body offered him.

His tongue lazily licked your juice from his lips as his eyes flickered between wanting to peer at your face and wanting to watch your sweet pussy taking his fingers so well. “Good girl. Such a good girl, my dear.” You were a moaning mess, unable to respond any other way to his praises.

Your entire body tensed as he brought his lips back to your needy cunt. His mouth suctioned around your sensitive clit. Tongue swiping and flicking, assaulting the bundle of nerves. His fingers stopped their pumping as he pressed as deep into you as he could, fingers bending and focusing on a specific spot. He hummed casually as if he wasn’t making you see stars.

Your body lurched forward as both hands flew to grip his hair. “F-FUCK- A-Ah fuck.” He felt your walls clench around his fingers, cock twitching knowing he had you on that cliff. “So close- please p-please-“

“Hm? Wanting to cum already?” His tone was patronizing as he lifted his mouth from you. A whiny sound coming from you as that build up dimmed slightly, keeping you just before that edge. “I’ll allow it. Only if you’re a good girl and say my name as you cum, understand?”

“Y-Yes- just please-please please-“ Another pleased hum rumbled from him as he lowered back to your sopping heat. His lips suctioned around your clit once more, continuing to stimulate both spots. It only took a moment longer and you finally reached your peak. “ALASTOR-“ A pathetic mewl ripped from your throat as it crashed over you in waves. Every muscle in your body tensed, walls clenching and twitching around his fingers as he helped you through your orgasm. His mouth popping off of you as he wore a wide smirk, lips and chin glistening from the mixture of you and his own saliva.

His fingers didn’t stop massaging your walls until he felt your body relax. Only then did he slip his digits out to greedily lick them clean. His tongue finds its way back to the bite on your thigh. Lapping at the wound while it was still weeping blood. “Thank you for such a delicious meal, my dear.” He would purr as you were still trying to catch your breath. Shifting he moved your legs off from his shoulders in order to stand back up. His warm hands wrapping your legs around his waist as he stepped forward leaning into you. He helps lift you up just enough to scooch you fully on the desk once more. Your eyes lazily watch him loom back over you as you try to sit up on your elbows. His smile devious as he slips his red talons under his suspenders, slowly slinking them off of his shoulders as he purred down to you. “What do you say, darling, are you ready for dessert?”

And you then knew that your night was far from over…

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*Chinning: 20s slang meaning ‘talking’.

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

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buckyarchives · 1 year

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Graceland Too. | Ellie Williams

Pairing: Ellie Williams x fem! Reader.

Summary: Ellie didn’t care much for trusting new people, she needed to keep the ones she had. Until you came around.

Request by anon

W.c: 3.5k

warning; stab wound/ depiction of blood

Author note: hi! I’ve never written for Ellie before nor have I played the video game so spare me if it’s ooc 😅 but the fic is inspired by Graceland too by phoebe Bridgers, especially since it was playing on repeat in the background while I wrote this. Enjoy reading!

Master list | read on AO3

Ellie noticed you quickly. You walked with heavy weights on your shoulder, dragging you down and slowing your steps. With fear-filled irises and dark circles, you jumped at every sharp movement and your appearance was not often. Keeping your head down, picking at your cuticles until the blood trickles to your fingertips. Ellie watched you with curious eyes, noticing every detail she could grasp onto.

She’d never been too interested in people beyond a surface level, too hard to trust, too easy to leave her. She decided it wasn’t worth it. Joel was left and even then, it was hard knowing if he’d end up leaving someday. She needed to grasp onto that and hold it close to her chest and pray he never leaves.

But there was something about your dark eyes and dragged feet that kept reeling Ellie in. Curiosity had always gotten the best of her in the past, no matter how much she said she’d learn from her mistakes.

“Who’s the girl?” Ellie mentions at the table, eyebrows raised in curiosity towards Tommy Joel was too busy shoveling food in his mouth, manners be damned. Tommy gave a hesitant, almost pitied look towards Maria.

The three looked over at you, as you picked at a plate of food. Probably the only time you’d leave your room, it might be a few days before Ellie could catch a glimpse of you again.

Tommy gulped, a nervous look in his eyes. Man, did Ellie make him that nervous or was there something else there?“ She came shortly before you guys, with no family or crew. Just showed up, bare-boned and one foot in the grave. Bout around your age.”

Ellie sometimes wonders how his Texan accent has survived all these years in the apocalypse, the thought about it made her giggle. Ellie turned to look at you again, you were leaving. She watched you until you were out of sight, feeling a surge in her to follow.

It terrified her.

“Thought you didn’t let people in often?” Ellie poked.

Maria sighed, “she was just a kid, looked scared shitless with nothing on her. Barely talks to anyone and stays in her room.”

Ellie thought about that conversation a lot. She always searched the crowds for you, maybe Joel was catching on. He’d nudge her shoulder when he found you first, turning his head in your direction. You read books sometimes when the weather was nice but not nice enough that large crowds would be out. Over the weeks your cheeks got fuller and your eyes a little lighter, which made Ellie swell with warmth.

Curiosity kills the cat, right? Ellie had watched you enough to know where you resided, only a little concerned that you hadn’t caught onto her borderline stalking yet. Or you did, just did a real good job at covering it up. Ellie might be a stupid fool for sneaking off one day, finding the door that led to you and taking the leap and twisting your door open. No plan, no real intentions.

She just wanted to see you, feel the weird pang in her stomach when she caught sight of your soft-looking jaw, and your long eyelashes that always stayed low to the ground. She wondered what you smelled like, probably nice, unlike Joel who smelled like gunpowder and spite. Or Tommy who smelled of whisky and pig shit, god he’s so happy about his hogs.

The room looked empty at first, and for someone who spent most of their time in here - it was bare bones. Like how Maria described you when you first showed up to Jackson But it was warm, a stack of books on the side table, way more than Ellie would choose. A large blue knitted blanket and two large duffel bags. Stuffed to the brim with your things like you were ready to leave any moment, always ready.

Then, there you were. Having come from the bathroom, wide eyes like you were a deer in Ellie’s headlights. You gasped when you noticed her presence, stunning pink lips parted slightly. Ellie caught herself staring at them for a couple seconds too long. She wasn’t sure what to do now, not having thought this far. But then the vibrant red liquid streaming down your arm caught her eye, the way it bled from the poorly placed bandage on your shoulder.

“Holy shit! Dude, are you okay?” She shot up, the words leaving her mouth faster than her brain. Ellie’s feet instinctively came closer to you, grasping at your arm. You tried to flinch away but Ellie reached out to you, you tensed at her touch - despite how gentle and innocent it was. Eyes not leaving her face as she scammed the open wound.

“Who are you?” You studded out finally, paying no mind to the sting in your shoulder as you reopened your stitch for the third time now.

“Doesn’t matter, you're bleeding!” Ellie said, so concerned. Her time inched towards the open wound, wincing as the blood gushed out like it was her own wound. “I don’t know who stitched this, but it’s really bad.”

“I did.” You muttered under your breath, slightly embarrassed by her mocking tone and closeness. Too close, but she didn’t look like moving anytime soon.

“Well, whoever taught you is a grade-A idiot.” Ellie commented, eyes searching the area until she found the open first aid kit on your toilet. Dragging you along with her into the small, cramped space. It took no time for Ellie to begin patching your wound, no other comments or introductions. For all you knew, this random girl with surprisingly warm and gentle hands just showed up to save you from an infected gash. Ellie knew nothing of you outside the small talk with Tommy and her own observations, seeing you up close was new and exciting. It made Ellie's blood pump faster and her brain short-circuit. The weird feeling in her stomach grew as she noticed the smaller details.

A few moles and freckles littered on your skin, the wispy parts of your hair that escaped the way you styled it, the cracked lips, the small scar on your eyebrow. You were so imperfectly perfect, like looking at a beloved painting just to see the cracks and brush strokes.

“How'd you get this anyways?” Ellie asked, you still seemed tense and off guard. But safety over comfort and the wound was still vibrant red before Ellie could get along to stitching it. You just watched Ellie with wild eyes, examining her – but Ellie didn’t fall insecure of your intense gaze. Ellie could be patient, she had Joel for a partner so patience had to be second nature. Your lips parted slightly to speak, and only a stutter came out before you took a breath. As if it pained you to speak.

“Uh, it's an old wound. From before,” you cough, watching Ellie as she dabbed the alcohol to clean it. You didn't wince or flinch as she had expected, you were tougher than she had expected. “But I keep ripping the stitches, I'm not very good at it.”

Ellie hummed, “I'll get you patched up.” she didn't question why you hadn't told anyone, it actually didn't surprise her much. Just glad you let her fix it, looks like you need teaching too.

That was how it started, the conversations between you two were small, quiet, and quick. Shortly after Ellie stitched you, you thanked her and smiled. Ellie almost fainted, her heart surged out of her chest and that unfamiliar feeling grew and grew until it began to eat her alive. But you weren't ready for that, she could tell, and Ellie was tired of losing people (even if she technically hadn’t had you yet, she hoped too one day) so she took it slow. So not to scare off the skittish, pretty girl with bad stitching abilities.

So Ellie left, trusting that she'd see you again and be able to touch you softly. You started to search for her gaze in the cafeteria too, Ellie would send a shy three-fingered wave and you'd quirk your lip up slightly. Not enough to call a smile, but she was getting there. Ellie hoped you wanted to see her as much as she longed to see you, even for a second. She hoped That's the reason you came more was because of her. Maybe it was stuid to thinkt hat, though.

So much so, she racked her memory for a whole day to remember the books on your side table. She only had a quick look but she remembers the work of Frankenstein and Interview With A Vampire. Joel almost choked to death on his soup when Ellie brought the subject up, told her they were old books, gothic literature. Ellie swerved the questions with ease on why she was asking about gothic literature, considering her favorite reads started and ended with knock-knock jokes and puns.

The next day, Ellie stole great expectations from the library and practically skipped to your place. No other plan besides to see you again and offer the book.

And by god, it worked better than expected. You practically lit up at the sight, Ellie didn't understand it until you started gushing about wanting said book, running your hands across the pages like they were a treasure. Ellie started to understand then, as you rambled on and her smile perked up after realizing this is the most you've spoken to her, ever. It was heaven.

It was an olive branch of sorts, Ellie didn't like reading but she realized she'd listen to whatever you said. And she did, as you sat next to each other, nudged between the floor and bed. Opposite from each other and shoes touching, oh how Ellie wanted to reach out and sit closer, line your thighs, and just feel you. It consumed her, but she just sat content with a smile as you read to her. Ellie started to make stupid comments, earning a smile from you that reached your eyes and breathy laughs. She would turn into a full-time fucking comedian if she could continue to pull those out of you.

Her visit started off small, maybe once a week, if you'd let her. You were still guarded but Ellie noticed your trust grow, so she shows up twice a week. Steal another book from the library and offer it to you, learning that she might as well put her heart in it too. It was so scary, being so ready to offer that to someone, but nothing in her being could ever stop the surge when she saw you. Every day Ellie would find you scooting closer, last Sunday you sat curled by the window with your shoulder touching. Ellie almost had a heartache when your finger grazed her thigh.

Joel noticed, equally scared and proud of Ellie for letting herself care and enjoy someone like that. He didn't get upset when he eventually noticed Ellie had missed curfew and came sneaking back past midnight.

That's when it started to change, Ellie had heard you yawn for the fourth time in the past twenty minutes. She knows you would refuse to let go of the book and tear your gaze from the pages, so she took initiative and tore the book from your soft grasp.

“Hey! Merricat was in the middle of fleeing from the bullies, I wanted to see what happened.” you whined, referring to we have always lived in this castle. You really went through books fast. Ellie smiled at your enthusiasm, but hid the book behind her back and raised her chin high, teasing, and shook her head.

“It's dark and you're tired. You should sleep.” Ellie said, eyes glancing at your bed. Your face softened, like being cared for felt wrong. Ellie was determined to make it feel like second nature for you, only if you'd let her.

“I don't want you to leave.” you breathed out like it wouldn’t fully cause Ellie to be short of breath.

Ellie just smiled, rising to her feet and offering a hand to you, you took it. Your touch burned in hers, she wanted more. “We can get breakfast in the morning and finish the story tomorrow, promise.”

You looked disappointed, and hesitant as your face dropped and your gaze fell to the floor. The sudden change scared Ellie, had she messed it up? But you took one step further, closer to Ellie's space, you looked at her. She felt a pressure on her chest, that weird feeling was back. You tugged at your bottom lip nervously, one finger searching for her hand. Ellie took it and the feeling enveloped her, brushing her thumb over your index and middle.

“Stay?” you asked, breathless. “Just for a little, stay with me?”

Ellie gulped, yet with no hesitation. She nodded, “okay. I’ll stay.”

“Till I fall asleep?” you pushed and Ellie almost started jumping up and down from excitement.

Ellie kicked off her shoes and jacket, and you follow shortly. Ellie went to turn in your direction, a gasp almost left her lips after she saw you faced in the other direction and pulled your shirt off. She knew she should turn, be polite and let you change into the oversized white shirt in privacy, but pulling her eyes off of you felt criminal. your back muscles flexed and contoured as you threw the fabric over yourself, getting a glimpse of a long scar on your left shoulder. Whatever or wherever it came from, it looks like it hurts. It hurt Ellie thinking about that.

Which still continued to terrify her.

You took her hand in yours and pulled the covers up, bodies close against each other as you squeezed onto the twin-sized bed. Ellie hoped you didn't notice the pink tint on her nose before you turned off the warm lamp.

It's then with heavy breaths and shaky words, with your head close to Ellie's chest, legs, and arms threatening to tangle themselves. Soft glances and fingers grazed across the safer parts of each other's bodies. It's then when Ellie told you about her bite, the immunity as you traced your finger over it. So gently and soft, you didn't flinch back or hesitate with your touch when she told you. You trusted her, oh my god, you trust Ellie. You trusted Ellie enough to explain your life before, through broken rambles as you struggled to find your thoughts.

“You shouldn’t like me, Ellie.” you whispered, the statement brought panic and despair to her forefront. Furrowed eyebrows as she asked what you meant. So eager. “I did stuff with the people I was with before, bad stuff – things I'm not proud of.”

“I don't care.” Ellie said honestly. “We all did shit, but that's not you.”

“I don't know…” you spoke, unsure of your own humanity and morality. But Ellie had never been so blindly sure of something ever. She huffed and turned to face you, a hitch in your breath as you lay only a few inches away from each other. Noses almost touching, Ellie could feel your breath on her.

“You're just a kid.'' Ellie breathed, the sorrow and weight that filled your eyes were too much for you to carry, Ellie wanted more than anything to just relieve some of it. “Whatever you did, wasn't your fault. I know that.”

“Ellie…”

“This is a fucked up world, okay?” she stated, you nodded in agreement. “And if you want to talk about it… I'm here.”

Caring. Fuck, it was so foreign to Ellie. But for you it felt so right, everything about you filled the gaps in her chest. She just wanted to take all the pain inside of you and –

“My parents.” you breathed out a shaky breath, avoiding eye contact as you began to pick at your cuticle again. Ellie quickly grabbed your hand in hers, warm, and smooth the skin gently. You shivered under her touch. “They stole from the wrong group trying to survive, they caught them and kept them around for… services. Said it was a way to repay their debt, but then they didn’t come back to camp one time and their debt was put on me…”

“But you- you’re so young.” Ellie's eyebrows furrowed, she knew people were fucked up. Before and after, but this? Disbelief and worry laced her words. Almost a sense of protectiveness swelled in her chest that would make her hands shake if she thought about it too long.

“They didn't care, I was the new errand girl.” you choked, Ellie looked to see tears threatening to fall. “They made me do horrible shit, every time I close my eyes I just–”

You choked on your words as the tears started to fall, Ellie surged to close to distance. Putting a hand on your head and pulling you close to her chest, the other squeezed your hand. To tell you you were safe, here in her arms, as she now decided she’d let nothing happen to you. No supremacist asshole that took advantage of the vulnerable, especially kids. Young and pretty girls with kindness in their eyes, just waiting to squash it. That was all over for you if Ellie could help it.

Shaking in Ellie's arms, you grasped her and stained her shirt in tears. A muffled and choked stutter came from you, “I'm sorry, el.”

“Hey,” Ellie whispered, bringing your face to her and wiping the tears away with the pad of her thumb. “You have nothing to be sorry for. Nothing.”

You looked her dead in the eye, so much fear in your eyes. But Ellie swears, once your gaze focused, you softened and almost melted into her hands. Her thumb still caressed your cheek still, it warmed you in a way you've been missing for years. For a moment, Ellie let her eyes flicker down to your lips, she could have guessed they were soft – they looked inviting enough. But she knew better than to take a leap like that when you’re hurting, just come from choked tears and –

“Can I kiss you.”

“Yes.” it left her mouth before Ellie could think, like the response was on instinct. Well, it had been on the forefront of her mind for at least a few weeks now.

Your eyes darted toward her lips for a moment, before leaning closer and finally closing the gap. Lips slanting on lips, it was better than Ellie could have ever imagined in life. You were so soft and gentle against her, like puzzle pieces coming together. Your hand fell to her waist, hesitant, like you were waiting for her to push away. She didn't, she couldn't. Another hand resting on Ellie's jaw, your hands were careful and warm. That weird feeling in Ellie's stomach that lingered when around you suddenly surged and took over the entirety of her body.

It didn't take long at all for Ellie to tug you closer, you got the signal. Not daring to leave your lips, only letting the motion grow sweeter and more passionate. Ellie rolled onto her back, pushing yourself on top of her. Each knee caging her in below you, she took the position with pride as her hands fell from your face down to your waist and back.

When you finally let go to take a breath, you pressed your forehead to her and Ellie swears she almost passed out right there. You laughed, it sounded so sweet. Like nothing matters in the world besides you and her, right now.

Ellie suddenly understood that note from Bill, you were worth saving and no motherfucker would get in the way of that. Like a train-sized epiphany hitting her in the face.

Things only began to grow at a comfortable and slow pace from them, more and more nights sneaking off to you and eventually you sneaking to Ellie's. You met Joel, got along well and that was the most important. You ate with her in the mornings and watched movies holding hands, Joel would smile proudly seeing Ellie lighten up whenever she noticed you in a room. Life came back to your face and you didn't walk with heavy shoulders anymore.

Your relationship became wordless and tentative, filled with sneaky pecks to the cheek, reading before bed, and laughing over eggs or making fun of Joel together. (“oh god, there's two of them now.” Joel groaned when he caught you two snickering with pointed fingers in his direction after he almost tripped over his own feet.) of late nights and talks of the past, Ellie gave herself over to you, one of the scariest things ever and you only held her close with gentle touches. There were moments like these, you had snuck off to hers and brought snacks, books, and your open heart and attention. Sitting opposite of Ellie, Ellie would nudge your foot – with only a glance as to say “come here.” and you did, resting your head on her shoulder as you finished a sleeve of saltine crackers, handing a few more to Ellie. Letting herself relish in the utter peace you brought her, the moon shined bright onto Jackson and lit your face – man, you were so beautiful in this fucked up world, Ellie would do absolutely anything for you to keep it like this. Anything for you.

feedback and notes are highly appreciated!

tag list: @hallows3ve @sophialuvsellie

#ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie tlou #ellie the last of us #ellie williams #belle ramsey #tlou show #tlou series #tlou #the last of us #the last of us x reader #tlou hbo

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guizika · 5 months

Text

Vampires!

Dean Winchester x Male Reader

Cw - Male reader, you/yours pronouns, fluff, Mention of death, violence, drinking, maybe it’s a bit ooc.

Synopsis - You decide to go to a bar to forget your problems, but unfortunately you end up finding more problems, but you also find a solution.

Word count - +1500

A love disappointment, problems at work and some encouragement from your friend were enough to make you go to a bar. The bar was located in a more secluded part of town, and most people went there at weekends.

You left the house wearing your favorite outfit, a white T-shirt and black pants. When you got to the bar, you ran into your friend, who was already drinking and hitting on the bartender. As you approach, you nudge her shoulder lightly and she lights up when she sees you. "You really came!"

"Of course I did, I'd never miss a chance to drink myself into a stupor." You say jokingly, smiling amusedly. Soon, you sit down next to her and order whisky to drink, chatting about silly things. Some stories have already been told, but they're still funny. You drink and laugh as you reminisce about your teenage years.

"Remember when you and Willian nearly blew up the school laboratory?" She says, laughing out loud as you let out a nasal laugh. "Firstly, that was far from an explosion and, secondly, it was all Willian's fault." You say defending yourself, laughing as you remember that day.

"Hey, do you remember when you flooded the bathroom at school?" Her laughter stops and then she blushes with embarrassment, drawing a genuine laugh from you. "It wasn't my fault, I was unfortunately in the bathroom and then disaster struck." You finish your whisky and then smile sarcastically at her. "Yes, of course, whatever you say."

Before you can order anything else to drink the Bartender hands you a beer, causing you to raise an eyebrow. "Uh, sorry, but I think you gave it to the wrong person, I didn't order a beer." The bartender smiles at you and then points to a man sitting on a bar stool by himself. "That man sent you that drink."

Your gaze goes in the man's direction, analyzing his face, he notices your gaze and smiles seductively at you, then takes a sip of his beer. "Oh my God, you have to go to him now!" Your friend whispers to you excitedly, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. "Don't worry, I've already found someone I want to stay with tonight." She says as if she knew what you were going to say, making you sigh with relief.

"Wish me luck." You smile and then walk over to the man, clearing your throat to talk to him. "Ah, hello, did you send me the beer?" He nods and then you sit down next to him, your beer in hand. "So, what's your name, handsome?" He smiles and then takes a sip of his beer.

"James Hetfield, but you can call me daddy, and what would your name be, sweetie?" he says, smiling seductively. He says, smiling seductively as you raise an eyebrow and laugh slightly. "Oh yes, you're the lead vocalist of Metallica, I'm John Lennon, nice to meet you."

He laughs, catching your drift. "I'm Dean, now, what's your name?" He takes another sip of his beer as he waits for your answer, after you reply he smiles and then looks around. "Right, well, what do you say we get out of here, sweetie?" His tone comes out suggestive, making you smile and then agree immediately. You finish your beers and then leave the bar kissing, you go to his car and then he takes you to the motel room where he's staying.

"Just don't make too much noise." He says between kisses, making you bite his lower lip and smile seductively, he lays you on the bed and you continue kissing.

…

The next day you open your eyes and see that the man is still asleep, so you get up and put your clothes on. After buttoning up your white T-shirt, you go out and then order a cab on your cell phone.

You see that your friend has sent you a few messages and you laugh, opting to reply when you get home. The cab arrives, you get in the car and say the address, driving home.

...

After two months, a lot of murders began to occur in your town, worrying most of the population. These crimes usually occur at night, so many people stop going out, but that doesn't stop you from going out to cool off.

The bartender looks at you and greets you, smiling and then placing a glass of whisky in front of you, already knowing what you were going to order. You finish your drink and the bartender hands you a Cuba-Libre. "That's the man who told me to give it to you." You look at who the bartender pointed to and notice that the man has pale skin and long black hair, he smiles and then walks over to you. His gaze never leaving your face, looking at you with a mischievous smile.

"Wow, what does someone like you do in this kind of place?" he asks, smiling and looking at you seductively. You take a sip of the drink he's sent you and smile kindly. "Just enjoying life, that's all, how about you?" The man seems to like your answer, looking you in the eye and then taking a sip of his drink. "I'm just enjoying life too."

After talking for a while, you leave the bar, he kisses you and takes you to his car. "Well, you're very handsome, I confess I'm sad to have to kill you." Hearing his words, your eyes widen and you try to push him away, only to be surprised by a blow to the back of the head, knocking you out. You hear other people's voices and then faint.

…

"What the fuck, ouch." You feel a strong pain in your head, probably because of the blow, you try to get up or move your arms but realize you're tied up, becoming more aware of your current state.

"You're finally awake, I thought you'd died from the blow." The barman's voice echoes off the walls of the shed, he turns on the light and your eyes close, opening only when you've gotten used to the brightness. "Where am I?" Your voice comes out hoarse, probably because your throat is dry.

He laughs, the laugh containing malice. "Well, you're in the nest." Your expression shows doubt. "Nest?" The man snorts, then opens his mouth and bares his fangs. "Yes, well, I'm a vampire and this is my nest, there are lots of vampires here." You stay silent, trying to process what he's said.

"Vampires?" You whisper, making him smile. "Yeah, I'd explain it to you, but there's no point because you're going to die soon." His words make you squirm as he approaches, screaming and begging for help even though you know it will be in vain. However, before he gets too close to you, the sound of a door opening can be heard and then he turns around to see two men.

You look too, relieved that someone has arrived, but after looking for a while you realize that one of the men is Dean. "Hey, bloodsucker, how about you come over here and face us?" Dean says and then the vampire charges at them, but he's easily defeated.

"Hey, how are you?" The taller man comes towards you, cutting the ropes that bind you and helping you to your feet. "Well, I almost got killed by a, uh, vampire, I guess, but I'm fine." The man smiles embarrassedly and then introduces himself. "I'm Sam Winchester and that's my brother, Dean." You smile and then introduce yourself.

They get you out of there and then take you to the car, you lean against the car and then cross your arms. Sam leaves you and goes to talk to someone on the phone, leaving you alone. Dean ends up explaining their work to you, causing you to let out a sigh.

"Well, I had no idea that James Hetfield also hunted monsters." You say in a joking tone, smiling in a relaxed way. "But seriously, that was super unexpected, like, I never imagined that these things actually existed." Dean laughs lightly and then lets out a snort, looking away.

"Well, I don't think anyone really wants to imagine that sort of thing." After he says that, you look at each other, until Sam arrives and clears his throat, making you look embarrassed and then look at him.

"Sorry to interrupt, but I need to talk to Dean." You just smile and shrug, watching the two of them walk away, talking about something you can't hear. After a while they come back and Dean lets out a sigh and looks at you.

"Looks like we have to go, another case has come up." His tone contains dissatisfaction, but he tries to mask it, you let out a sigh and then smile at him. "All right, but when you pass through this town, come and visit me."

Dean brightens up and then takes his cell phone out of his pocket, handing it to you. "I've got a better idea, put in your phone number, so we can, well, keep in touch."

After that you both get in the car, he drops you off at your house and then he drives off, heading for the place of the next case.

Maybe you'll meet again in the future...

Please don't translate or copy my work and don't repost on other social networks, if there are any grammatical errors I ask you to excuse me!

#male reader #male reader insert #ftm reader #ftm!reader #male!reader #supernatural #spn x male reader #dean wichester x male reader #dean winchester #dean winchester x ftm reader #supernatural x male reader #supernatural x ftm reader

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sofasoap · 8 months

Text

Love at first sight - life and death - 2

Pairing: Rodolfo “Rudy” Parra x F!reader ( aka Mini MacTavish)

Summary: Life doesn't always play a fair game. Takes place after Epilogue of the main series.

Part 1 here

Warning: M Rating. inaccuracies to medical and military related. discussion of injuries. Talk of PTSD, disabilities. mention of OC children. Rudy might be slightly OOC. Turn away now if its not for you thank you.

A/N: Thanks @gamergirlbones helping me with Spanish phrases. not beta nor properly proofread. sorry.

Part of RUDY FEST fic. Thank you @glitterypirateduck the wonderful CoD fanfic and fanart curator for organising another festival :D you are awesome.

Prompt used: Surprise

Rudy Masterlist

Main masterlist

Alejandro’s hand hesitated slightly before he made up his mind and proceeded to knock on the door. Too much talk and gossip circulating around the base. He has to sort the problem now.

“Enter.” a rough and croaky voice replied.

Alejandro was greeted by the sight of his hermano looking dishevelled, with piles of paperwork scattered across the desk, an unopened bottle of whisky and empty glass toppled over and resting precariously on the edge of the desk.

“Sergeant Major Rodolfo Parra.” Alejandro growled, pulling Rudy’s attention to him from the paper works he was concentrating on reading.

Rudy sighed as he ran his hand down his face. Exhausting is evident with the dark circles under his eyes, the unkempt overgrown beard and bloodshot eyes.

When was the last time his hermano had slept?

“Rudy.” Alejandro growled again as he approached the desk. “Why haven’t you been answering any of my calls or messages?”

The image of you, lifeless eyes, pupil dilated, blood oozing out from your wound as Price frantically starting CPR, the medic shouting out “CLEAR!” Before your body twitches with the defibrillator shocking your heart back into rhythm, Ghost and Gaz try hard to restrain screaming Soap from clawing his way to his sister.

He was paralysed by fear that day. Tears running down his face. Watching the frantic activities happening all around him. He couldn’t even remember how he got onto the helo,how he got back to the base, what Soap was saying when he clutched his shoulder and pounding his fist into his chest, shouting at him.

Everything was a blur.

The nightmare just keeps going around and around in his mind every time he closes his eyes. As he tries to fall asleep. Inhaling the residue scent from the bedsheet of your shared bed. Looking at the trinkets you left on the bedside table. The photo of you two smiling happily at each other at the wedding reception. Everything just triggers the memory of you.

The way his heart clenches every time the notifications come through. He doesn’t dare to look at any of them nor picking up the calls. The fear of this might be the day that he has to face the reality of losing you forever. He’s not ready for it. He will never be ready for it.

The only way to keep himself sane? Bury himself deep in work. Avoiding the calls and messages. Keep himself awake.

Avoiding reality all together. That will make things all better, right? So he doesn’t have to know the news of your death. About how you spend the last minute of your death.

He was a walking corpse. The day just runs into the next one. How long has it been? He doesn’t know.

“She’s awake.” Alejandro informed his second in command. “She’s been asking for you.”

You are awake? Rudy’s eyes finally met Alejandro’’s, slowly processing the news.

Alejandro can see the information and relief sinking in as Rudy slowly lean back into the office chair and slumping, burying his face in his hands.

“If you have been paying attention and not avoiding everything else, you would have got the news earlier.” Alejandro replied as he took a deep breath, suppressing his anger. He understands his hermano’s pain. He’s been there himself, not the easiest pit to dig yourself out from. But the disappointment and the hurt of seeing Rudy trying to avoid facing the problem and moving on and using work as an excuse to face his wife and family and friends.

“Rudy. Enough of wallowing in self pity. Do you know what the kids were asking me the other day when I went to your mother’s house? They were asking where their mamá and papá are. What was I supposed to tell them??” Alejandro commented. His heart pained for his niblings everytime he goes over to keep Rudy’s family updated on the situation. The children were happy to see their Tio but he was totally lost for words when they asked for their parents.

Alejandro softens as he sees how Rudy flinches at the mention of children. “Go, you need to go see her now before she comes storming back to Mexico and gives you an earful for trying to drink that bottle of vintage without her.” Alejandro said as he gave his final push for Rudy to go visit you. He wasn’t joking about how you will be unhappy with the bottle of rare vintage whisky that was given to both of you and Rudy as a wedding gift by the Taskforce. You have planned to drink it together on special occasions.

“No opening it without me!” you warned everyone as you put it into the office safe. “If I catch any of you….” the unsaid words were enough. No one wanted to face the wraith and possible endless nagging from you.

Rudy opens his mouth, trying to come up with an excuse, but closes it again. He knows he needs to see you. He misses you. He wants you in his arms this instant. He wants his family to be all together again.

What is he so scared of then?

Xxxxx

“Don’t be shocked when you see her.” Rudy frowned when Laswell gave him the cryptic warning as she picked him up from the airport. “She’s been through a lot, as you know. But her spirits are high.”

Laswell was the one who organised the medevac flight for you over the border into the USA for further complex trauma care.

“Can’t let one of our best doctors die under our watch.” Laswell replied as the team thanked her for the assistance. “We need Lady Fortuna to keep all our soldiers alive.”

“Then…” Rudy frowned as he queried. If you are in a stable condition, what is there to worry about?

“It’s not for me to tell.” The rest of the car trip was spent in silence.

Now, Rudy stands at the door of your private room. Finally seeing you in the flesh. There you are, sitting propped up against the pillow in the hospital bed, cuts and bruises still evident on your face, right arm in cast all the way from your shoulder to your wrist, hand all bandaged up.

Worse for wear, but you are alive.

Enjoying what seems to be a lively chat with Alex Keller. Why is the ex-CIA agent even here? Isn’t he supposed to be in Urzikstan?

A strange mix of jealousy starts to bubble up. But he knows he has absolutely no right to. Nor any reason to.

Your eyes widened with surprise and hint of fear when you spotted him standing by the door, hesitating to step in. Why the fear?

Alex turned around as he noticed you faltering and stopped in the middle of conversation, spotting Rudy at the door.

“I’ll give you two some time alone. I’ll drop by again tomorrow Mini. You take care.” Alex patted your hand as he stood up, ready to leave as he sensed the strange tension in the air.

Nodding your head conveying a silent thanks, he stood up and made his way to the door.

Alex patted Rudy's shoulder as he made his exit as he gave him a knowing look before he waved goodbye to both of you again.

“Come in, don’t just stand over there like a stranger.” you joked as you shuffled around in your bed, carefully not to aggravate the injuries too much as you were trying to make yourself comfortable.

That’s when he finally realised what Laswell was talking about when he spotted your missing limb.

“Surprise aye?” You chuckled. Waving at your missing right calf and foot as Rudy made his way to sit down on the chair that was previously occupied by Alex, slightly reeling from the news. “They couldn’t save it. But at least I still got my thigh! And they managed to salvage my right arm. Despite the mess it was in.” you sighed. “ It will be a long time before my right hand will be back in action. Probably won’t be able to do anymore of the delicate operations.” you lamented. You perked up again in an overly chirpy tone. “At least the children will think their mamá is going to be some superhero with titanium leg like their Uncle Alex… “

Rudy can see it in your eyes, as you blabber on about your long term recovery and treatment plans. Despite the merriness in your voices, you are sad. You are trying your hardest to hold and hide your fear behind the wall of bubbly personality. He knows you too well. You always have to hold your head up high, putting up a strong and positive façade for the patients and everyone around you. Because who you are. And because you have to.

You think the world will crumble apart if you don’t. You were the pillar for the team of medical fellows you command.

You were the pillar to the family. To him.

“Why was Alex here?” Rudy quietly asked, silently berating himself that this was the first question and words he could ask after the reunion.

You hummed a little bit before replying. “Believe it or not. I was part of the team that assisted with his recovery after he had his leg amputated. I might know the medical side of things, but experiencing it yourself is another.” you smooth out the blanket to cover up your legs again. “Laswell must have notified him and Farah about the news. He insisted on flying in and checking up on me, and helping me on the mental health side of things.”

“.... to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health..” Wasn’t that the promise he vow to keep, the day he pledged himself to you, and you to him? He has failed you because he was too busy hiding away from facing his fear. He felt sick to his stomach thinking about the amount of times you have listened to his problem, his stress, saving his life ( on more than one occasion ) but when you needed him the most? He wasn’t there for you. Instead, someone who doesn’t have to be here, flew thousands of kilometres in to check up on you.

“I am so sorry Cariño..” Rudy apologised as he extended his hand forward, lightly grasping your injured hand. The guilt that is sitting in his stomach like a dead weight, making him utterly sick.

You look at your joint hands, contemplating.

“I thought you abandoned me, Rudy.” you broke the silence after a while, avoiding his eyes.

“Never, I will never abandon you ,Cariño..” he kneeled down on the ground in front of you, ready to apologise and begging for forgiveness. “I should have been here.. I…” he doesn’t know what else to say to make things better.

“The panic I felt when I woke up with only Laswell and Johnny by my side. It was horrible. For a moment I thought everything was a dream, all the years we spent together were figments of imaginations.” your left hand grasps the bedsheet. Voice wavering as you kept going. “I thought you tried to avoid me because of my.. Disability.” your voice dropped down to a whisper as tears poured down from your face. Weeks of pain, both mental and physical, the loneliness finally became too much. Walls starting to crumble. “My messages and calls went unanswered. No one will tell me anything… and no one else will tell me anything.. “You started sobbing. “I missed you .. I needed you so much.. It was so hard…”

“Remember our vow mi vida?” he asked as he looked at you, caressing your hand. You nodded as you wiped your tears, urging him to continue. “I am sorry I broke my promise, I have no excuses for it…I was a coward… I was scared .. that the next phone call or message i got, It will be them telling me you didn’t make it..” Rudy confessed, guilt ridden.

You sighed, not knowing what to say. You can’t say you are not angry with him for his action, but part of you does understand that fear, the denial mechanism your brain gets into when bad things happen.

“Ale did give me a good lecture though. Finally snapped me out of self pitying.” he added sheepishly, “hence why I am here now…”

“That I would trust him doing it. He’s forever looking out for both of us.” you commented as you let out a little smile.Rudy’s shoulder relaxed a bit as he the corner of your lip curling up. He misses your beautiful smile. Your laughter.

“I will always love you, no matter what. I love you for who you are, not what you are or how you are. I don’t know what I can do to make up for my stupidity but one thing for sure, Mi corazón late port…”

The exact words he said before you sank into unconsciousness. “My heart beats for you too, mo ghràdh” you whispered back. You lean forward, wincing slightly as you move your torso and injured arm. Rudy immediately stood up, moving closer to sit beside you on the bed. You carefully lean against his chest as he gently circles his arm around you, holding you in his embrace.

After weeks of Chao, waving between life and death. The two of you finally in each other's arms again.

“You didn’t try to drink the whisky all by yourself did you?”

“Uh… No..” Alejandro must have dobbed him in.

“Good, let’s open the bottle when we go back. What do you think?”you smiled as you gave him a kiss.

Rudy smiled. He likes the idea.

“No whisky for you.”

“WHY!”“ You are still recovering.”“That’s not the excuse for you to drink my portion Johnny! Captain! You are pouring too much! Gaz, that is MUG not a proper whisky drinking glass… Simon,careful with that! Rudy love, please stop them!!”

“Sorry cariño, you invited them…”

Tag list:

@jynxmirage, @siilvan

@glitterypirateduck, @homicidal-slvt

@cumikering @preciouslittlecreature@crazymela

@liyanahelena @abbeyrjm-blog @alypink

@devcica @nrdmssgs

@okayyadriana @caramlizedtomatoes @random-thot-generator @random0lover

@iwannabeinthesequalmrghostface

@nightingal3-tales, @deakyspuff

@deadbranch, @roosterr, @gamergirlbones, @b1rds3ye @writeforfandoms @a-small-writer-in-a-big-world

@onewattson6529

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queer-here-and-in-fear · 3 months

Text

underneath (silver linings are found)

A03 version

tags:

Alastor & Charlie Magne, Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Charlie Magne | Morningstar, Lilith Magne | Morningstar, Post-Canon, Feel-good, Protective Charlie Magne, Lilith Magne is a Bitch, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Lilith Magne owns Alastor's Soul, owned actually. past tense, Soft Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), look. hes technically a bit ooc but its also 2 years post canon SUE ME, Alastor Has a Heart (Hazbin Hotel)

note: uhh hope this is good!! my first hazbin fic lol!!! if you like this feel free to send me writing or art requests in the comments, or on my tumblr, @queer-here-and-in-fear!!

It had been exactly two months and three days since Alastor had last grinned, and Charlie was starting to lose it a little. She wasn’t the only one in the hotel to notice, no, Vaggie had been giving Alastor weird looks since it started, and Angel Dust had been joking about it up and down, but nobody else was concerned. It wasn’t that they didn’t care, but so much had been happening, Charlie couldn’t really blame them for not asking.

But someone had too.

It wasn’t like there was any reason for this, at least none that Charlie could figure out. Everything was better now. Sir Pentious wasn’t dead, he was ok (even if he didn’t remember them - because they could fix that, they couldn’t fix death), they had managed to push back extermination while heavens court deliberated, and Alastor wasn’t stuck in the deal with Charlies mom anymore, he was free. So everything was supposed to better.

.. But something was still wrong, because Alastor still wasn’t grinning. He was still smiling, sure, but it didn’t reach his eyes and compared to the big wide grin Charlie had grown to know over the past two years; it wasn’t much. He was still Alastor, Charlie knew it wasn’t all just faked because of the deal with her mom, but.. it was odd.

She had tried her best to ignore it, really, she had tried so hard. Alastor warned them (in what she could swear was meant to be a moment of vulnerability, holy shit her hotel was working) that he was gonna need some time to get better. That was okay by Charlie, she knew a solid half of that deal was just meaningless torture on her moms part (which was not messing with her head, thank you very much.)

It had been two months, though, and Alastor had said he felt mostly better now, and he still wasn’t grinning. Charlie wasn’t sure the last time she had seen his teeth where he wasn’t eating or baring them. It was a stupid, small thing to get caught up when everything was better and they were working to make it even more better, but she couldn’t ignore it anymore. She was going to go Nifty levels of insane if she keeped trying to ignore it.

So, after a long long hour of pacing and ringing her hands and running her fingers through her hair and ranting aloud to herself (she wasn’t sure she could thank her dad enough for the sound proof room), she slid out of her room and into the lobby. She had a good feeling Alastor was in there, and it took about two steps into the lobby and a quick look around to prove herself right.

“Oh, Charlie, my dear! Any reason why you’re up at the devils hour?” Alastor looked up from his book and asked with a small little smile, the hum of radio static steady under his voice, and Charlie felt her heart ease a bit up at the soft sight. Right.

There was another reason she hadn’t asked yet, other than her anxiety - Alastor was genuinely getting better. She could see it now as Alastor placed his book on the table and shifted to the side to give her room to sit down. He looked, and acted, genuinely better.

All his movements felt lighter now; less deliberate, more genuine. She was pretty sure Husk had said it best one night when they were talking over whisky. (“I damn knew somethin’ was wrong with the bastard when he came back. He was all tight strung and quick spoke - wasn’t like that before. I swear, I thought he had been a professional actor past seven years, he did nothing naturally! Feels more normal now, and I’m damn glad for it.”)

“Just a bit antsy,” she answered with a smile she was pretty sure held her painfully obvious anxiety. She slid into the spot Alastor had made for her and quickly pulled her ankles up to sit criss-cross, her hands running over her legs and her eyes, for the moment, glued to her lap. She knew her anxious tells were painfully obvious, but she was pretty sure trying to act normal would make her combust. After a second, her gaze drifted back up to Alastor, “what about you?”

“I’m doing just splendid darling!” He answered with an ease that soothed Charlie a bit. It was.. nicer to hear him speak now, knowing that every word was of his free will. Even if he was lying, at least he was choosing to lie. That had to count for something. “Say, Charlie, what has you oh so antsy at this witching hour?”

“I just,” she cut herself off and took a deep breath before looking back to Alastor, and explaining, “ok, so - I know a lot has changed and a lot is changing and I’m ok with that, of course I am! And if you don’t want to answer that’s completely fine, no bad blood - and no matter what you do answer, if you even choose too - I won’t be mad or anything. I just - I have a question. For you.”

Alastor blinked, giving her a blank stare for a moment as he processed the ramble. After a moment though, he gave Charlie another of his too small smiles and a clapped a hand on to her shoulder. “Well, ask away my dear! No need to leave me or yourself waiting any longer now.” He said, giving her an expectant look.

It took Charlie another five seconds of painfully staring at her lap before the words wouldn’t be held in anymore, and the whole question came tumbling out so fast Charlie was pretty sure it counted as one word- “why haven’t you been grinning at all?”

It took about another two seconds of no answer until Charlie was rambling again, the words spilling out before she could really stop them. “I mean, it’s not like you have to, of course not! I would never make you do anything you don’t want too, I’m not like my mom, I’m just.. concerned, I guess. You used to grin all the time and now you don’t and-”

Alastor cleared his throat and Charlie snapped her head up so fast she vaguely worried she was going to give herself a neck injury. “I take no offense to the question, Charlie,” he started, “and my will is not so easily swayed that I will change my behavior just because of a simple question you asked.”

“Right, right, of course,” Charlie said, hands still ringing in her lap as she practically brimmed with anxiety.

There was another uncomfortable silence before Alastor started speaking again. Just a year or two ago Charlie would’ve called herself stupid for even thinking it, but now she could recognize the furrow to his brow as nervousness. “I will answer your question. I just.. would like to give some context first. Charlie, do you know how your mother could be cruel?”

Charlie did. She couldn’t unknow it, because it all made her sick. The same women who preached about being their to impower demon kind could torture one of them, needlessly. She fucking sowed his mouth half shut instead of just making a vocal deal about it like a normal person to- to fucking what, prove a point? Alastor had been cooperating, he hadn’t done anything, and she fucking hurt him for fun while playing at being an angel-

It was only when Alastor’s gentle hand tapped against the point of her horn she realized she had horns to be tapped, and she cleared her throat with embarrassment. “I’ll take that for a yes,” Alastor started, a small bit of brimming affection in his tone, “there was.. one more incident of that I haven’t brought up yet.”

The words already set a chill to Charlies spine and her mind racing, a million god awful and painful to think about possibilities running through her head, but Alastor’s next question made her blood run cold. “Do you remember a single time I wasn’t grinning before the deal was broken?”

Charlie.. Charlie couldn’t, could she? That was why she was so concerned about his lack of teeth baring in the first place, it was so normal that the loss of it sent her mind spinning. But now that she thought to it, the dates lining up perfectly - oh. She was the last to realize, wasn’t she.

“... No. You couldn’t stop grinning, could you?” She whispered with mounting horror.

Alastor gave a small nod. “That is true.”

Charlie suddenly threw herself back on the couch, groaning with painful frustration and hiding her face in her hands. “Of course you didn’t want to grin while crying! Shit, how didn’t I realize it earlier? I- fuck, I could’ve done something, I could’ve helped you.”

Alastor blinked, surprised by the sudden outburst. Hesitantly, he reached down with a comforting hand, lightly patting her shoulder. “There there, my demon belle. It is no bad blood you didn’t get me out earlier - I’m out now, am I not? As well, it might’ve been.. for the best, that the deal stayed as it was for a while. Even if it was terribly unpleasant.”

That caught Charlies attention as she sat up again, looking over to Alastor with pure, unmarred confusion covering her face. “.. What do you mean it’s for the better the deal stayed in place? The deal nearly got you killed, like.. twice!” She said, waving her hands around with frustration.

“..I’ll concede, it is true that the deal did cause me great detriment,” Alastor said, before continuing, “however - it wasn’t all bad. I would’ve never came to the hotel if your mother didn’t force me too.” He pointed out with a small smile on his lips, “I would’ve never met Vagatha, or Angel Dust, or our dear Sir Repentious, or even-” he reached down, suddenly tapping Charlie on the nose, “you, my dear.”

Charlie laughed softly before turning back around again, guilt still brimming under her voice. “Sure, I guess, but you should have never been forced to stay. I wanted that to be a choice, y’know, and you, my co-host, were forced and I didn’t even know. It just.. it bothers me.”

“Well, even if the situation was forced, my affection wasn’t,” Alastor held up one finger to stop Charlie from contesting him, “I know it wasn’t, because for a long long time before you freed me, I had resentment building.” Charlie blinked, staring up at him with surprise.

“I wanted to get my just-deserts, my bloody vengeance in glorious fashion once my wings were unclipped - however, after so long of having only you as a symbol of your mother, I missed sight of who was at fault,” Charlie listened, vaguely recognizing the emotion in his voice as guilt. “I wanted to get vengeance upon you, even when I was more than aware you weren’t at fault.”

“However, over time, that rage faded - not for your mother, of course, but for you. After so many nights of you healing wounds and helping souls and showing me kindness, even as I loudly detested everything you stood for with a grin on my face, I realized that you weren’t the one to blame. So, really, it was for the best.”

Charlie blinked up at him, before slowing leaning over and resting her head on Alastor’s shoulder, taking in the warm and familiar silence of the hotel lobby.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

#nox text posts #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor #alastor the radio demon #charlie morningstar #hazbin alastor #hazbin charlie #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel charlie #charlie magne #the radio demon

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thesoulesscollection · 3 days

Text

Choc Centered Incorrect Quotes

It's been a while since I've done incorrect quotes from a few cool generators and this is for fun. This is mostly Choc centered, unsurprising I know. I may make more, who knows

Aidan & Calypso belong to @bluetorchsky (Hope you don't mind this & tagging you. I was anxious this would be ooc. These two especially the first, I feel would be closer-ish with Choc)

Tw: Implied Alcoholism, Implied Reckless Behavior

Reginald: What is the one thing I told you not to do?

Choc: Burn the house down.

Reginald: And what did you do?

Choc: I made dinner.

Reginald:

Choc:

Reginald:

Choc: And burnt the house down.

***

Choc: I'm feeling it! What am I feeling? Death, probably.

***

Reginald: Choc has quite the talent for drama

Macbeth: You should have seen them when they were younger

***

Choc: My knee just cracked so loudly that I half expect it to glow in the dark tonight.

***

Calypso: Are you sober?

Choc: I'm moderately functional

Calypso: I’ll take that as a no

***

Calypso: Are you drunk?

Choc: Only in the spirit of Christmas!

Macbeth: And the spirit of whisky.

***

Choc: I slept for almost 12 hours but I might still be tired so let's go for 12 more just in case.

Aidan: Choc, that's a coma.

Choc: Sounds festive.

***

Aidan: Man, I only ever see you awake, do you ever shut down or stop running?

Choc: Oh, I’m always running

Aidan: The question is from what

***

Choc: Okay. I get it. You've had a really hard time lately, you're stressed out, seven people died-

Reginald: Twelve, actually.

Choc: Not the point. Look, they're dead now and really whose fault is that?

Reginald: Yours!

Choc: That's right: no one's.

***

Right: This is a mistake

Choc, enthusiastically: A mistake we're going to laugh about one day!

Right: But not today

Choc, still enthusiastic: Oh, no. Today's going to be a mess

***

Mr. Macbeth: That's not funny.

Choc: I thought it was funny.

Mr. Macbeth: You don't count. You started laughing in the middle of a funeral because you started thinking of a meme you saw on Facebook.

***

Choc: I’ve been sleeping so little the past few nights that when I go to the alarm app, I click on the “power nap” button. I don’t set up alarms, I set up timers, Aidan.

***

Macbeth: My partner must be top of the line, graceful, organized-

Choc: Hey guys! I- *trips*

Macbeth:

Macbeth: I want that one.

***

Choc: We have fun, don’t we, Mac?

Macbeth, shaking: I have never been more stressed out in my entire life until now.

***

Macbeth: What, you wanted me to say no?

Macbeth: How can you say no to that face?

Macbeth: Look. *Holds a groggy, half awake Choc in front of them*

Macbeth: Try saying no to that face.

Choc: :)

Right, genuinely trying: …

Macbeth: That's what I thought.

***

Macbeth: Choc is a perfect cinnamon scone who’s never done anything wrong in their entire life!

Reginald: Never done anything wrong?! They set a city block on FIRE!

***

Aidan: What scares you the most?

Everyone else:

Everyone, simultaneously: Choc on caffeine.

Aidan: And Choc...?

Choc: … Me on caffeine?

***

Reginald, talking to Henry: Well Henry, whenever I’m about to do something, I think ‘would Choc do that?’ and if they would, I do not do that thing.

Henry: …

Choc, from the distance: They’re not wrong though!

***

Reginald: We lost Choc. Can you track them?

Macbeth: What, do you think I have them microchipped or something?

Reginald: Well, do you?

Macbeth: Yeah, hold on.

#Ask Away #Thsc Oc #Choc Kinsley #Henry Stickmin Oc #Toppat Oc #Henry Stickmin Incorrect Quotes #Aidan Brannon #Calypso Bells #Mr Macbeth #Reginald Copperbottom #Right Hand Man #Henry Stickmin Collection #The Henry Stickmin Collection #Alcohol Tw #Violence Tw

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writing-for-life · 1 month

Note

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💗 (i don't know if you do these sorts of chain-letter things, or if you'd prefer not to, but for my part i do like to know which of their works a given author is especially hype on, so consider this an opportunity to gush!)

I was sweating for a moment there because I thought, “I’ve written all my life and even published, but I don’t have 5 fanfics, shit!”

And then I noticed… well, with a little bit of goodwill, I do. So thanks so much for asking, @stellerssong , and here comes the gushing:

The no. 1 has to be “The Light of Stars”.

I completed most of it during NaNoWriMo 2022 for a bit of fun and respite from other projects—and then did nothing with it. Until I thought, “Fuck it,” and started publishing it chapter by chapter, editing and tidying it up along the way.

It is a long fic, and I know that’s not everyone’s cup of tea, but I’m honestly proud of it. I put a lot of thought into characterisation and plot, keeping everyone in character (as much as aimed-for character development allowed, so certain OOC moments had to happen) and crafting an OC that works for what I was setting out to do. So much so that many people asked for a sequel, which I’m still in the process of writing (I completed the concept again last NaNoWriMo and wrote over 40,000 words back then, but progress has been slow since because… life).

I don’t want to give too much away here, but while it’s romance and there *is* more than enough sex (I write steamy romance professionally, albeit in my other language), this is really not what this one is mainly about. So it’s not one for people who look for thinly-disguised chapter-porn and super-explicit descriptions. It’s a novel with a fully developed arc, and it deals with topics like friendship, loss and grief. Someone told me though that it felt hopeful and they didn’t struggle with the broaching of those topics like in some other works, and that was probably the most wonderful thing anyone could ever have said to me.

I’ll choose “Snow Globes and Whisky” as my second, but only because it is a Christmas gift-type one-shot with the same characters.

You can, in theory, read it without knowing TLoS, but it just wouldn’t make sense. It’s just Christmas fluff, not incredibly deep (despite picking up on the friendship and loss-theme again), it was fun to write and to get Dream a little bit drunk (just because he was intrigued and allowed it of course 🤣).

Then there are Rachel and Johanna.

They have such a special place in my heart. I always wanted to tell their story because we never got it in the show—so I did. And as a bisexual woman, I am also Jo’s biggest stan. I desperately want her to be the Sandman-character who does away with bi-erasure once and for all (because if the onscreen love interest is female, everyone cheers, but bi m/f relationships never count in fandom because they’re “heteronormative”. Newsflash: We’re not “50% straight, 50% gay”. We have nuance and deep inner lives and different preferences that make up very personal identities, and we’re not some token queer representation that stops to exist once we’re in straight-passing relationships). We’ve seen her date a woman and she has tons of chemistry with Dream too—I want them to have the messiest affair ever and somehow have her take Thessaly’s place. But better. Because she’d protect Lyta for all the RIGHT reasons. There, I said it, and I’m not sorry. Anyway, that’s not what “As it Was Before the Otherness Came” is about. It’s sad and heartbreaking and canon-compliant. It just fills in the gaps. And again, I’m super-proud that someone in the comments said to tell Gaiman about it (we all know that’s not a thing for fanfic) because they thought it was so in character and well-written. Yes, I’m shamelessly blowing my own trumpet because you asked me to 🤣

Then there are my Inktober Haikus.

I still intend to turn them into a bound book with accompanying art one day (the latter is where it all falls down really because although I could, it would take me 1,000 years to create all the art myself). 31 poems, some more inspired than others, but they were a great creativity exercise, and I honestly love them for what they are.

And last but not least, from the serious to the totally unhinged: Muhulhu. Murphy and his Cool Hat. The crack ship of all crack ships, aka:

I set out to write a trilogy, the first part “By The Sea, I Mean In The Dreaming: A Comedy Prelude” is published, the second and third are currently in a vegetative state because I just can’t find the time to write and/or edit. And if I do, I prefer writing the TLoS sequel. Or metas. Or running silly fandom events 🤣 I’d love to write more fanfic, but between a full time job (or rather: three jobs that make up one) and a family, I just stare in awe at the people on here who produce constant output, because I honestly can’t. But I will get back to it eventually because that one is just sheer unhinged fun.

Thank you again for giving me the opportunity to flog my goods!

@stellerssong ask answered

#the sandman #sandman #sandman fanfic #sandman fanfiction #the sandman fanfiction #sandman poetry #asks always open #ask answered #Johanna Constantine x Rachel Moodie #Johanna x Rachel #dream x oc #morpheus x oc #muhulhu #murphy and his cool hat #drat! a HelmLord story #dream x helm

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let-them-eat-cherrypies · 3 months

Text

— a funeral, a bar, an airplane. A 3 encounters story with John Price.

✨ slow burn, fluff, lieutenant John Price/Original Female Character, no use of Y/N, before canon, OOC. 3.661 words.

⁘ the first time Charlotte Alderton and Jonathan Price crossed with each other was when Jonathan, a lieutenant for the Special Forces, mistaken the church which would hold his grandfather's wake.

He got late to the church, ran out of the cab, and didn't pay much attention to his surroundings. He had just arrived in England after his Commanding officer granted him a couple of days to attend his grandfather's (and a war hero's) funeral and had to sort his clothes inside the cab, not seeing the exact direction which he was taking.

Once there, he found it strange that his mum and dad would leave a typo on the wake ceremonial sign.

— Sorry, are you working here? There is a typo on the sign. It is Henry Price, with an I. Not Henry Preece. — Jonathan said to the woman standing by the side of the paper sign, typing on her phone. — And, the service is already finished? My brother said it would start midday.

— Well, the last time I checked, my uncle's name was written with double E. — Charlotte said, lifting her eyes to look at the strange (but very handsome) man's face. — And, yeah, it started at 7. But my mum is on the burial grounds if you want to say your condolences for her brother's passing.

— Her brother?! — Jonathan looked confused at the woman, who just blinked back at him - as if she was trying to make any sense of his question. He looked at the church. Damn, was he at the wrong church?! He looked around, trying to find the street name or anything else that could help him locate himself.

He looked at the text message on his phone, then checked back the grounds. He was at the wrong church, at the wrong wake.

— Oh, bollocks! I am so sorry for your loss. I am at the wrong church. I am incredibly sorry, thought I was at me grandfather's wake... — Jonathan started to excuse himself when his phone rang and he turned around to answer. — It is John. Oi! mum... I know and I am sorry, I got to the wrong church... I know, mum. Calm down, I will be there... Ok? Ok. Bye.

The woman patted John's shoulder and he turned back to her. She had something in her eyes, a sparkle, that enchanted the lieutenant for a moment.

— You can take my taxi. — She said, smiling fondly and pointing to the car that just dropped by. — I just ordered another. Sorry for your loss, hope you are there on time.

— Thanks and... I am so sorry again. — John said getting in the cab, with his bags wrinkling his clothes at the motion. The soldier spared one last look at the woman at the church door. She kept the smile on her lips, taking her attention to her phone. John tried to imprint her image on his mind, as a strange aura of beauty surrounded the scene and - for a moment - he wished he could know that woman better.

⩛⩚⩛⩚⩛⩚

⁘ Charlotte and Jonathan's second chance encounter was a bit more pleasurable than the first one. The sun had already set when she entered the Stables' pub wearing the same outfit she had on all day long.

After her uncle's funeral, her family got together at his favourite restaurant with some of his friends to tell tales about his life and "celebrate the way Henry lived his life", according to her mum's words.

After a lavish afternoon of food and stories, Charlotte found her way to one of the pubs her uncle used to deliver the unlabelled whisky bottles he produced on the family farm for years, and became sort of an emblem for selected pubs. Stables were their favourite place, no surprise when she received a message from the owner expressing his condolences and asking her to come by later, so he could present her with one of his uncle's legendary bottles.

— Carlie! — the pub owner called her name the second she crossed the door. — My dear Carlie, what a loss! I dinnae see you at the church, though you stayed in school! — the old man said, turning around the counter to compliment Charlotte with a hug.

— I was at the back of the church. Maria - you know her, Doug's wife - she is pregnant and living that moment that nothing stays in. I was helping her. — Charlotte answered, walking with the old man into the bar. — But, let's get down to business: you said you found a rare piece from my uncle's production, is that true? Or were you just luring me to your pub, Peter?

— Just a moment, I'm gonna get it on the office. Amanda, can you serve the table with the gentleman on the corner? His liquor is Bourbon, 12 years old from the second shelf.

Charlotte looked at the table in the corner, and to her surprise, the gentleman was the same man who was in the wrong church that morning. He didn't see her, as he was concentrating on reading from a folder and taking notes with a pencil every now and then.

She thought, for a brief moment, to go there and talk to him. But, when the waiter broke his concentration to pour more liquor into his glass, he looked up to see her, before she could move. He held the glass up, on a silent toast, and Carlie answered with a timid nod and a fondly smile. He was handsome, indeed, and she promised herself never to tell anyone that she was attracted to a strange man who appeared at her uncle's funeral.

— A single-malt whisky, aged on a heavy barrel, from our favourite unlabelled distillery and marked with a "C" seal, do you remember it?! — Peter said, bringing with him an arm-sized barrel from the back office. — Henry stated so many times that this was his fine creation and he wanted to age more. So I kept hiding and never had the chance to savour it with him.

Carlie's jaw dropped the moment the pub's owner gave her the little barrel. She knew her uncle had made a limited edition of his whisky to celebrate each of his nieces' birth, each one flavoured differently and sealed with the three girls' initials: C for Charlotte, E for Emilly and A for Annie.

— Oh, Pete! I have never drunk my own whisky, could you believe it? Henry said he and Pop drank all the only barrel he aged on my tenth birthday! This is wonderful! Should we toast him? — Carlie said, cleaning the tears that rolled down her face and stretching an arm to grab the glasses from behind the counter.

— Of course, my deary. — the old man snivelled and opened a smile. He took out the seal and the stopper, pouring the liquor on the glasses. — Henry always said he would be damned the day her girls cried because of him! To our Cranky Henry!

— To Cranky Henry! — Carlie said, toasting with the pub owner. The whisky had a strong aroma and was even stronger in flavour. Carlie loses track of time, admiring the smell and the colour of the liquor in her glass, thinking about her uncle.

— I don't know what that is you are drinking, but smells very nice. I could catch the scent of it from my table — a strong voice brought Carlie back to the present. The gentleman in the corner was now by her side, putting the folder he was studying over the bar. He was so close now that Carlie could smell the tobacco aroma from his clothes.

— This is my uncle's whisky, the one he made to celebrate my birth. Peter, the pub owner, was one of his closest friends and kept a little barrel sealed with him for twenty-six years. Would like to try it?

— Oh, it sounds very personal. I think you should keep it. — the man declined, very politely.

— You disrespect my uncle's memory with your rejection, mister... Sorry, I didn't get your name. — Carlie playfully pointed at him, trying not to get hypnotised by the man's sea-blue eyes.

— It's John, short for Jonathan Price. My pleasure. — the man extended his hand to Carlie, who had to make a little turn on the barstool, now been face to face at John, to shake his.

— Charlotte, but everyone around here calls me Carlie. — she was impressed with the sensation of holding his hand. Or was it the alcohol fermented for 26 years that was already making her too sensible?

— I just wanted to say how sorry I am for earlier. I think I was kind of rude to you. I didn't know I was in the wrong wake, I was supposed to be in my grandfather Henry's wake. — John started, with a seductive smile.

— Well, you are excused for earlier, but not for now. I insist you have a proper toast with me, on ours Henry's memories. — Carlie joked, offering the little wood barrel to John and scooping a clear glass out from a tray near him. John accepted this time, pouring the âmbar liquor into his glass and filling Carlie's.

— To Major Henry Percival Price, war hero, grandfather and a sorry excuse for a fisherman. — John said, offering his glass for the toast and looking into her eyes as if he were trying to stare at her soul.

— To Henry Albert Preece, a drunk hazard, the best of the uncles and the worst Christian ever made. — Carlie replied, clinking her glass to John's, and proceeding to sip the whisky.

— Holly hell, this is delicious! — the blue-eyed man exclaimed, after tasting the liquor. — You said your uncle made it?

— Yeah, our family had this unlabelled distillery for years. It started somewhere during the First War, and it kept the Preeces fed for years. Henry was the last one to produce them for pubs and some fancy restaurants, now we have some barrels just for the family. — Carlie started, tapping the barrel over the bar. — My mum became a teacher, my sisters didn't mind the family business and I... well, Henry always said that would be great to have someone on the side of the law in the family, to help whenever we get sued for producing unlabelled alcohol for years. So, here I am: a corporate lawyer... Sorry, I think I got excited with your question. — she stopped herself, covering her eyes with her hand, hiding the blush from her face. Again, was it a result of his presence or the alcohol? she thought, gulping the rest of the whisky.

John laughed sweetly, finishing the drink of his glass and placing it on the wooden table. — I see you have a great passion for your uncle's story. Nothing to be sorry for, doll. — He completed, pouring more whisky on both glasses.

— And what about you? Getting late for a relative's funeral, reading documents all alone in a pub on a Tuesday night... Are you a kind of spy? — Ok, now Carlie was sure that she got on her limit of alcohol as the words escaped her mouth before she could think it properly. She drank pint after pint in the afternoon, and now she was on her third glass of whisky with this charming stranger.

— A spy? — he laughed freely at her question. She could see that he was also blushing and made her wonder how long he had been drinking before they met. — No, not like that. A soldier, a lieutenant from the Special Air Service at your disposal. — he made a little bow to Carlie, making her laugh this time. — And I have to make sense of these documents — he tapped his fingers on the folder — before coming back to the field. It was really difficult with my mum complaining about my brother all day long, so I moved to a pub to have a little bit of peace of mind.

— Bold choice, sir. It was a pleasure to meet you, but I have a fly to catch tomorrow morning and I hope I don't get too hungover after mixing pints and whisky. — Carlie said, standing out the stool trying to maintain her posture. — Pete, I have to go. Are you sure I can take the barrel?!

— Sure, kiddo. It is yours. If you find more of the E's and the A's, bring it around to us, don't be a stranger. — Pete answered from the other side of the bar.

— May I accompany you to the taxi? — John asked while paying his tab. Carlie nodded, and they got out of the pub together. John opened the door for her saying "Ladies first" and receiving "Oh, what a gentleman" in response.

She tried to be discreet, but couldn't help to get her gaze at the way he lit a cigar, admiring how the shirt sleeve cresed with his muscle movements. He blows a puff of smoke and with the same hand that held the cigar, he made a sign for a cab. He held the door for her to enter, as she held the barrel like a baby in her arms.

— I hope you find me the next time you get around, lieutenant. — Carlie said, as a last movement of their dance, before John could close the door. — Preferably in a pub, not at a wake. The third time is a charm.

— I make these words my own, misses. — he responded, leaning his body so his eyes found hers. He closed the door, with a smile on his face, and started to walk in the opposite direction from Carlie's way, puffing his cigar into the night.

⩛⩚⩛⩚⩛⩚

⁘ The third time for Carlie and John was the charm. John past the night awake thinking about that Carlie girl he met in the pub. He thought about going there that next day to get some information about her, she said that the owner was a friend of her family, right? Maybe he could give him a hint on how to find her again.

He was eating his breakfast with his mum, dad and brother — a scene quite rare in the house since Jonathan got enlisted — when his phone rang in his pocket.

— It is John Prince. — John answered, getting out of the table with his mum's complaints. — Of course, sir. I will be there, sir. Thanks for your notice. — he said on the phone, answering the call of duty that he wished could take a little more time to come. — I have to go, my team is waiting for me for our next mission. My flight is in an hour from now. — he announced to his family while going up to his old bedroom to change clothes.

— I'll drive you there! — Billy, John's younger brother, shouted running after him. — Maybe the love of my life is waiting for me at the airport. Who knows?! — he mocked John, passing in front of his room.

John confided in Billy about the encounter at the pub when he got home later than he expected the night before, being late to the match he said he would watch with the young man. Now, he regretted the late-night chat, knowing that Billy would be a complete menace about it.

The drive to the airport was more pleasant than John expected. Billy tried to take out from John some details of his work, and John just answered again and again that if he was so interested in the Special Forces, he should enlist himself. No takes about the pretty lawyer John met the other night, though.

— Try not to die too, mum wouldn't handle all of that again — Billy said, while John got his bag on the backseat. — Be safe, if it is possible. — He completed.

— I will make no such promises. Take care of mum and dad. — John replied, closing the car door.

John got to the airport, looking for the flight panel. His flight to London was already marked as "Now boarding". He crossed the airport, after announcing his presence at the check-in balcony. He passed through security and had to walk fast to not be late for boarding.

With no surprises, he was the last one to embark. Wearing his uniform, the crew made some fuzz on his entrance, and the flight attendants were especially cordial with him. "Girls like boys in uniforms", his father used to say to him. One of the attendants took him to his seat, pointing to a place by the side of a woman, wearing a red coat, who was focused on typing on a laptop and wearing a pair of headphones as if she was transcribing some audio.

— Excuse me, miss. But could you turn off your computer? The plane is about to take off. — the young attendant asked the woman, tapping her shoulder and startling her out of her concentration.

The woman lifted her head, and to John's much surprise, it was Carlie, the woman with whom he shared the delightful evening on the day before.

— You gotta be shitting me! John?! — Carlie exclaimed, closing the laptop. — Are you following me? — she asked with a peal of nervous laughter.

— Well, you were the one that said that wanted to see me again. Better sooner than never, right? — John said, placing his duffle bag on the overhead bin, and taking the seat on Carlie's side.

— You... I... These fatigues fit you very well. — Carlie said, visibly nervous with the soldier's proximity. John couldn't say if her cheeks were blushing or if it was just the red coat reflecting the colour on her face.

— Thanks. — he said, fixing the belt. — Maybe this is a sign that we should bump into each other more. Do you live in London?

— No, it is just a work trip. My office is holding this big conference there. I have a place in Liverpool, this — she pointed at the laptop on her lap — is a couple-of-days thing. And you?

— I am going to present myself at RAF Northolt today, going overseas tonight, maybe.

— Oh, so it is not a couple of days thing for you. — she replied, with a hint of disappointment.

— I am afraid not, but... I could always call you when I get back. — John rolled the dice, testing his luck. Carlie opened a strange smile, and - for a brief moment - John thought she would turn him down. He kept looking at her face, waiting for a comeback.

— Oh, sure. I didn't give you my number yesterday, did I? Just a second — she searched the purse on her side, taking out a business card. She grabbed a pen and wrote on the backside of it. — Here, this is my personal number and e-mail. — she passes the card to his hand.

John admired the card for a moment. It reads Charlotte Alderton, LL.B. above some big law office name and a corporate number. On the other side of it, with delicate handwriting, a phone number with the 0151 Liverpool code followed by an e-mail.

— I am afraid I don't have a business card. Could you lend me your pen? — John said, getting the check-in ticket from his pocket, where he also kept her card. He wrote his number and his name below it, with a "Lieut" by the side of it, mocking the way her name was presented on her card. — I can't always have my phone when I am overseas, but I promise to reply to you as soon as possible.

— Oh, nice to know beforehand I will be ghosted for a while. — she joked, looking at John's number and then putting it inside her wallet. — At least I wouldn't be wondering if you were just being polite right now.

Carlie's phone rang, interrupting the chat. She excused herself and turned her attention back to the text on the computer on her lap while listening to someone passing directions on her essay. John tried not to be suspicious, but every now and then spared a side gaze to the woman replying to someone on the other side of the line with a firm voice and strong arguments.

He was attracted to her, he had no doubt of it. But now? Now he could say that he was in love. Oh man, that woman speaks as if she knew how to order around, a quality John always admired. Not a single drop of doubt in her sentences, he tried not to pay attention, but it was almost impossible for him.

She kept on the line during the rest of the flight. One of the flight attendants invited John to sit on the front row, so he could disembark fastly. As he got up, Carlie put the phone down for a moment and whispered:

— I will be at the Royal Hotel, near Russell Square Station, in case you stay in London tonight.

John smiled and nodded to her, walking the aisle with his heart screaming to get back to his place, even for a couple of seconds. For the first time, John was hoping for a delay in his mission so he could be at the Royal Hotel that night.

↝ 🥧 ↜ this was my first public fic. I plan to write to write smut after that. Be kind, please.

#john price #captain john price #captain price #fluff john price #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod fanfic #cherrypies writes

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goodxdog · 1 month

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Something something...

Fox FC for when I wanna be really submissive.

Fox Slut AU when? Who knows.

#out of whisky - ooc

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goodxdog-archived · 2 months

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Not me, frustrated I can't send in anon-asks with links.

The temptation to turn this into an actual blog is high.

#out of whisky - ooc

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inionnarequiem · 1 year

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Vick’s Return: Major Changes

Indeed my friends, I’ll be doing a proper promo sometime in the future but I wanted to highlight some key changes I’m making going forward with Vicky

1. Victora is an Unaffliated OC; I’ve completely retconned Vick’s lore to be independant of any fandoms or other source material, again this detailed post will be coming in later. I will still write Vick as Northern Ireland but only with a select few old friends and in a seperate verse.

2. Vick is Agender/Genderqueer: They will use any pronouns and will present themselves as either masculine or feminine or neither on any given occasion. Honestly, Vick dgaf but doesn’t feel any gender roles suit him so they present themself as however they feel. They’re pretty lax on whatever sort of nicknames a person uses for them; Mave, Vicky, Vick, Victoria etc. But on days where they present masc they typically prefer/tend to use ‘Brendon’

3. Previous relationships may be altered or changed: Depending on which verse you wrote with for Vick, that relationship may be changing going forward as now Vick is not burdened with some of the issues she faced previously, but instead faces new challenges entirely that will alter how she percieves the world and other people. If you’re unsure, feel free to DM me!

Other changes may pop up as I refind my voice for Vick but these are the most important ones starting out!

#Out of Whisky (ooc)#listen up (psa)

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unbindingkerberos · 1 year

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Pouring Your Heart Out

Featuring: Amarice "Patriot" Locke and @poisonedtruth 's Kentaro "Icarus" Hawkins

Words: 948

Author's Note: First time I've wrote a fic with someone else's OC. Sorry if it feels too ooc TvT.

Tags: @unpetitoiseau @children-of-epiales @chadillacboseman @shegetsburned @infinitewhore @linoleum-ice

The door opens and Amarice's ears are greeted by the lively rhythm of jazz. She bites her lower lip as she examines the area, noting the huge contrast of the stark, sterile facility to the warm, homely tones of the bar. It was a sight and Amarice nodded in approval to some of the furniture. She compliments the taste of furniture and eyes the intricate details of the flooring and ceiling.

A spectacled man, presumably the bartender, polishes the mahogany counter with graceful and precise movements. She looks around and realises that she and the bartender were the only ones around. Guess nobody is in the mood for celebrating. For good reason. Amarice approaches the counter, pulling a stool for her to sit and dropping her duffle bag right next to her. The man stops the chore and glances up to meet her tired gaze, a smile on his lips.

"I believe you're the new operator, right?" Amarice nods quietly. "I'm here to celebrate." She looks behind the bartender, the lined liquor catching her eyes. "Have any recommendations?" The man lights up. "Just a moment." He returns with a bottle of champagne and a fluke-- lute-- flute glass (a glass is glass!). Setting the glass on top of the coaster, the man pours the beverage; the goldenrod liquid filling the glass to the brim. Amarice gives him a meek smile, before downing the liquid with one gulp.

Her tongue had never been graced with such delectable flavors. She had been so used to the rough and bitter texture of beer and the intense warmth of whisky, that her palate was overwhelmed by the smoothness of the champagne.

"Do you want a refill?" Amarice shakes her hand. "No.." Her fingers tap the surface of the mahogany countertop. "Do you mind if I stay here for a while?" The bartender chuckles, that smile still plastered on his face. "Sure, I see no problem with that."

Amarice watches the man do various chores with little interest. She returns her gaze at the empty flute glass, her reflection staring back at her. I look like shit. She wraps her fingers around the neck, tilting the glass in various angles-- her reflection warping. She lets out a heavy sigh.

"Do you feel like the world just picks someone to hate on for no reason?"

The man had just finished adding a glass to the rack when she asked. He turns, face confused. "What do you mean?" Amarice shrugs, setting down the glass. "I've joined the military to avenge my dead brother and sisters who were killed during a White Mask operation--" She still remembers their faces-- devoid of a life that once shone in bright eyes. How pale their bodies were and how her mother wailed as their coffins were lowered to the ground --"but most importantly, I've joined to make sure no one's brothers or sisters, mothers or fathers or children die-- to make the world a better place."

She clenches her fists. "But all I get in return is a dead son, a divorce and the death of my friend." They're tight now-- painfully tight her fists are. "And now," her voice croaks, "now Henry too." Tears sting her eyes as she keeps them at bay. She remembered how hesitant she felt when Henry brought it up-- joining the military. She voiced out her concerns-- her fears. But she let him. How could she? She should've done more. Amarice feels even more guilty considering she made him like this. They fed on each other's self pity and Amarice projected all her anguish onto him.

(With wide eyes, Henry made no move to resist as Amarice latched her hands on his shoulders-- shaking the boy. "Promise me!" She spat, the stench of alcohol ever present on her breath, "promise you'll never show kindness to people who don't deserve them! They deserve to die, child! If you wanna live in this world without any evil in it, you gotta snuff it out! No matter the cost!"

She cries harder.

"Promise me… Nat… I can't lose you again…"

She feels a warmth on top of her hand and she gasps. "Don't worry, ma'am." Henry lifts his eyes to meet her.

"I promise.")

A tear falls to her cheek.

"Am I going to lose another son?"

It was deathly silent as a tense ambience began building up. The jazz music made no effect nor changed and did little to no help to lighten up the mood. "Did everything I've ever done mattered?" She feels a hand on her shoulder. "You carry a heavy burden with you-- the weight of the world seemingly on your shoulders." Amarice meets the comforting eyes of the bartender, a warmthness that Amarice can't quite describe. "But it doesn't have to be that way. You could ask someone to help you carry it." Amarice scoffs, breaking eye contact, gritting her teeth. She had opened enough wounds already from this conversation and to ask someone to "help her carry the weight" is something she cannot allow. She doesn't want to become a burden; an additional weight to their list of problems. After all, they'd leave. They all do.

She suddenly stands and reaches to collect her duffle bag. "Thank you for the drink." She turns to leave-- "My door is always open if you want to talk.." Amarice stops in her tracks. His insistence is annoying yet admirable. She's close to the door, she could just leave right away and forget that the conversation happened. But for some reason…

"I'll be seeing you around--"

"Kentaro."

"I'll be seeing you around, Kentaro."

And she leaves not even bothering to say her name back.

#rainbow six siege #rainbow six oc #r6 oc #r6 oc patriot #amarice patriot locke #r6 oc icarus #kentaro icarus hawkins

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