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ozzgin · 3 days

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Hi!! Your writing it truly lovely 😭<33 If i could request anything with Zzy? Thank youuu

Yandere! Demon x Gloomy! Reader (II)

Featuring the goat-legged boy Zzy and a gloomy, newly employed detective Reader! By the way, his name is a little tribute to a series I like. Can you guess who inspired it? Hint: it's Jhonen Vasquez's first comic :D

Content: female reader, perverted goat demon yandere, dark/crass humor!, monster romance, mildly NSFW

[Part 1] [Monster masterlist]

The detective man, at the very least, kept his word. The pay is good, and you barely have any work to do. The jobs themselves are similarly not too challenging: so far you haven’t had to deal with any murder mystery out of an Agatha Christie novel. Rather, most of the time, it’s someone asking you to investigate their cheating partner, or sending you to do a background check for an employee. Every now and then you’ll get the odd client, but that’s something for another day.

Your boss isn’t all that bad either. You were initially quite hesitant to be alone in the room with him. He always seems to be surrounded by an eerie, dark aura, and you’ve only seen him smile in a menacing, villainous way. Now you’ve gotten used to his strangeness. In fact, it’s almost comforting. There’s something refreshing about another human being honest about their misery. He seems to be just as uninterested in this job as you are, spending most of his time reading at his desk. Despite his unkempt, scary appearance, he's pleasant enough and looks after you. Which, now that you think about it, is a little suspicious. You've seen him act around other people: curt and to the point, disinterested, even potentially rude. With demons, he's ruthless.

"Have you had lunch yet?" the man asks, standing up and dusting his knees. "I can get us something."

You nod and flash him a flaccid smile, although you can't help but ask:

"Listen, aren't you being a little too nice? I mean, I'm not complaining...but I've seen how you behave in general, and I have a hard time coming up with a reason for my special treatment."

He ponders your question for a moment, before his sunken eyes look ahead, somewhere behind you.

"Well…If I’m being honest, you’re kind of pathetic, aren't you? I’m just a little worried that if I’m too harsh, I’ll find out you hanged yourself in your apartment or something. Not that I’d care, but if you’re gone, I’m the one stuck with…that thing.”

Ah. That’s what it was. Almost immediately, a shiver runs across your spine.

“(Y/N)! Are you done yet? I’m booooooored”, a prolonged whine erupts from the neighboring chamber.

“I’m about to have lunch, actually. Do you want any-”

“You know I do! Spread those legs and I can start”, the goat demon declares with a grin, clacking his hooves in your direction.

You sigh.

Of course. Months ago, you were tricked into signing a lifelong contract with Zzy. It was the detective’s way of washing his hands off the matter and warmly welcoming you into the agency. It makes sense that he'd treat you with utmost care, otherwise he'd have to deal with this pest from Hell once again.

How's your life with Zzy going?

You've since found a way to seal your bedroom, in order to avoid waking up with his groping hands under your sheets. Sadly, the stubborn creature keeps finding ways to bypass your safety measurements. Who would’ve thought that lust is such a powerful driving force?

On top of the nightly shenanigans, you obviously have to deal with him during the day, at the agency. “Listen, it’s like…one of those fidget toys. It helps with stress”, he explains fervently while pointing at your chest. “You want me to do my work properly, don’t you?” He concludes theatrically. “You’re not holding my boobs. This is the end of the conversation.”

If you’re having a bad day, it won’t go unnoticed. “Boy, what a smell, what a delicacy. You’re even more miserable than usual”, Zzy will exclaim, throwing his hands together in a graceful prayer. “You know what the best medicine is? A quick fuck. Let me pound that sadness out of you, eh?”

Despite his constant clowning, the demon does have moments of clarity. He becomes particularly serious when jealous. “What have you done?” You shout in despair, gawking at the client - now morphed into a pig - foaming at the mouth and running around the room. “He was staring at your ass. Only I can do that.” The horned man stands proud, arms crossed, nodding at his own courageous act. His most treasured belonging has been defended once more.

As expected, the jealous curse has gotten both of you into time-out. Zzy because he cursed the client in the first place, and you - despite your protests - because you didn't stop him in time. "Can't you wear something easier to take off? It takes two business days to unbutton this crap", the demon complains as he fiddles with your shirt. You're laying on the sofa, hands behind your head, gazing at the clock on the wall and counting the minutes passing. Unbothered, compliant. The peacefulness of someone who's given up. "Zipper is to the left", you add, aiding the process.

Another irritating detail is that the damned beast can detect the slightest arousal coming from you, and will make sure to announce it loudly, regardless of who is around. "Someone's horny! Whew, getting me all worked up, too." You slap a hand over his mouth, a deep red blush rapidly spreading across your cheeks. You turn to the detective and apologize profusely, but he remains unconcerned, flipping another page. "Let me take care of her first, Mr. Detective", Zzy manages to mumble through your pressed fingers. "As long as you get the task done", your boss responds plainly, never bothering to look up from his book.

"You should visit me down there sometimes", the horned creature suddenly mentions, his head resting in your lap as you idly browse your phone. You stop to glance down at him. "In Hell, you mean?" He snickers at the thought. "No one believes me when I tell them I have a human girlfriend. I need concrete proof, ya feel me?" You raise an eyebrow. "Girlfriend?" He disregards your inquiry and continues: "At least give me a pair of your panties to take back home." Absolutely not.

"Were you this much of a menace before I showed up?"

"What's that supposed to mean?! You can't blame a demon for being in love."

You sigh once more and roll over.

"Does that mean we can go for round two~?" Zzy is grinning at his own suggestion.

"Just go to sleep. Or something."

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cevansbrat0007 · 2 days

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Hello, Duchess

Summary: Your first encounter with Bounty Hunter, Ari Levinson, goes worse than you ever could've imagined. Takes place directly after the events in New in Town.

Warnings: Mature Themes, Ari Being A Menace, Bickering, Implied Jealousy, Threats of Violence, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Special thanks to my creative consultant, @curls-and-eyeliner. Part my Sweet Renegade Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

Ari’s P.O.V.

“Can’t believe this town actually has a real live bookstore.” Ari muses as he pulls up in front of the tiny, quaint-looking bookstore. “Fuckin’ wild.” Throwing his truck in park he takes a moment to survey the area, making note of the empty lot.

‘Must not do much business.’ He thinks before climbing out of his vehicle and confidently striding toward the door. Hopefully, the lack of an audience would make things flow a hell of a lot faster. Hell, if you were anything like some of the other women in this town, he’d probably just have to smile and flash his baby blues to convince you to spill your guts.

In fact, he was practically banking on it. Because this wasn’t Ari’s first rodeo – not by a long shot. He’d spent a lot of his life in and out of small towns like Bell’s Creek, which was part of the reason he couldn’t wait to bag his latest bounty and put this place, and its people, in his rearview mirror. Ari reaches for the handle on the door, only to frown when he gets a look at the sign hanging in the window that reads: “sorry, we’re closed”.

Well, that couldn’t be right.

He could’ve sworn that when he’d pressed Mrs. Turner, the First Lady of Calvary Baptist Church, about your whereabouts she’d said he’d be able to find you at your shop. Something about your preferring to work instead of resting and rejoicing on the Lord’s day.

While the bounty hunter supposed he could always try back tomorrow, he was keen to check you off his list. Refusing to admit defeat, he decides to try his luck anyway, only to be surprised when the door opens with a tinkling chime of a bail.

Confused but also now on high alert, Ari takes a tentative step inside as he looks for any sign of life. “Hello?” He calls out, finally allowing the door to swing shut behind him. Instinct has him reaching for his back pocket, checking to make sure he had brought along his firearm.

Just in case.

“Is anybody here?” He tries again, moving further into the shop. The place is clean and well lit, and boasts rack after rack of books. But what’s most impressive is that there doesn’t appear to be a speck of dust anywhere. “Look, I just came by to–”

“We’re closed!” A disembodied voice sounds from the back of the store.

“Yeah, I saw the sign, ma’am…” He clears his throat. “But I think you forgot to lock the door, so I –”

“That means get out!”

“So much for southern hospitality.” Ari grumbles under his breath as he continues on his mission to track down the owner of the voice. “Ma’am, I just wanna talk. And maybe–ahh shit!” He curses when his hip accidentally connects with a half-full rolling cart, sending several of the heavier books crashing to the ground. “Sorry!”

“Did you just break something?!” The voice suddenly screeches. “Don’t make me get my taser.”

“There’s no need for that.” Instead of picking them up, the bounty hunter hastily nudges them aside with his foot. “My name is Ari Levinson, and I’m just here to ask you a couple of questions.”

While this isn’t how the man had expected any of this to go, he’s relieved when he sees a familiar face peek at him from around the corner. A face that happened to be even more beautiful than he initially remembered. Even though it had only been a couple of hours since he’d seen you last.

Damn! It was as if the image of you in that dress taking up space at the other end of the pew was now permanently imprinted into his brain. He'd have to tread lightly here.

Otherwise things could get complicated. Fast.

Your P.O.V

“Pretty sure this is what law enforcement calls trespassing.” You sniff, craning your head around the corner to stare at the man who was taking up entirely too much space in the narrow hallway. Sure said man was easy on the eyes, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t at least a little concerned about his apparent inability to read.

“I can assure you that’s not what this is.” The lawman holds up his palms in an effort to placate you.

And although you try not to stare, it’s impossible to miss just how big they are – how rough they seemed – with just the right amount of callus. You can’t help but wonder what those hands would feel like on your bare flesh.

“Then what is it?” You ask, struggling to keep your tone short and clipped as you emerge from your hiding place. The last thing you needed was to have this man thinking you were actually attracted to him.

If anything, you considered yourself to be curious. No harm there, right?

“As I said, my name is Ari Levinson. I’m a bounty hunter from just outside Rosewell, New Mexico who also occasionally moonlights as a private investigator.” He tells you, jamming his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I just stopped by to ask you a couple of questions. And while I didn’t necessarily mean to intrude, I figured you might appreciate me taking a more delicate approach on account of your relationship with my person of interest.”

Fucking Martin Westbrook. He’d been the bane of your existence ever since you’d first crossed paths back in high school.

“I know you’re looking for Martin.” Annoyed by the very nature of the conversation, you pick up a box, hefting it onto your hip so that you can carry it out to the sales floor. “But I’m not quite sure how much help I can be.”

You brush past him, inwardly smiling when he scrambles to get out of your way. It was a subtle reminder that this was your shop. And you absolutely refused to be intimidated by him or anyone else.

“I’m sure whatever you have to say will be plenty helpful.” He’s quick to reassure you as he turns to follow the path you set. “Provided you’re honest, that is.”

“Did you really just waltz into my shop and call me a liar, Mr. Levinson?”

“I meant no offense.” Ari coughs, scrubbing a weary hand over his bearded jaw. If you were the overly presumptuous type, you might think you’d just managed to fluster the poor man.

Now feeling extra prickly, you drop the box onto the far counter of your cashwrap before turning to face your unwelcome guest. “As you can see, I have a busy day’s work ahead of me. And I was really keen on doing it by myself.” You gesture at the array of other boxes and racks placed around the store. “So if we could get a move on, I would greatly appreciate it.”

“Gladly.” He gives a brief look around. “Is there some place maybe where you and I can sit and chat?”

“I’d say here is about as good a place as any.” You tell him as you step behind the counter. Bending down, you snag a bottle of cleaner, along with a couple of rags. If this man insisted on being here, then he would just have to deal with you taking care of your business. “I’m pretty confident in my ability to multitask.”

Nodding along, Ari pulls out a small notepad and pen from his back pocket. “When was the last time you saw Mr. Westbrook?”

You let out a sigh as you begin to spray down your countertops with your all-purpose cleaner. While you supposed you could’ve gone with something a little more industrial, you were partial to the way this particular brand’s products always smelled.

“I don’t know.” You shrug as you bask in the scent of rose and cedar. “Maybe three, four weeks ago.”

“Do you happen to recall the day and time?”

“No. Not really. If I had to ballpark it, I’d guess sometime around the 5th of last month.” You move to the next flat surface, spraying it down just like the last.

“You sure about that?” You try not to let it irk you when you see him take a seat on a nearby step stool out of the corner of your eye.

“As much as I can be.”

“And did Mr. Westbrook happen to give you any indication of where he might be headed?”

“Nope.”

He’d been nervous though. That much you did recall. By the time he’d come to you that night, your old friend had been well beyond spooked.

“Did he give you his reason for leaving?”

“We didn’t…” You trail off, taking a moment to scrub at a particularly stubborn sticky spot that’s marring the wood. “There wasn’t really much time for talking.” You’re so concerned with scrubbing that you miss the way the county hunter’s eyes narrow as he studies you. “He just stopped over to say goodbye.”

And to borrow all the cash you happened to have on hand – to the tune of $500. Enough for a bus ticket and a couple nights in a dirt cheap motel.

“Right.” Ari scoffs, admittedly with a bit more heat than he intends. “Not a lot of time for talking.” He pauses briefly to drag a hand through his shaggy brown locks. “Not sure why I didn’t wanna believe them.”

“Am I sensing a problem, Mr. Levinson?” You hum, tossing your rag to the side in favor of focusing on the rugs.

“I guess I’m just having a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that he kept you in the dark about his plans.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “In my experience, most men like Martin tend to have loose lips around the women they’re fuckin’.”

In that moment, it’s almost as if you can feel the air go out of the room. Just who the fuck did this knuckle-dragging, mouth-breather think he was?

“Excuse me?” Those two little words are spoken through clenched teeth. You’re so taken aback by his brazen accusation that you can scarcely breathe, let alone think.

Ari simply quirks a tawny brow at you, seemingly unaware of the danger he’s just placed himself in. Did he not see how close your hand was to that damned stapler? While it was clear that folks in this town had been running their mouths, they’d apparently neglected to mention that you’d also been the star pitcher for your high school softball team.

“Apologies if I offended your delicate sensibilities, Duchess. But I’ve never been the type to beat around the bush. Besides…” The smug bastard tucks his pen behind his ear. “You have to know that people in this town like to talk.”

Fire simmers hot in your belly, as you come out from behind the register. It takes less than ten seconds for you to bridge the distance between yourself and the cocky lawman. While you might’ve been taught never to raise a hand against anyone, this man was sorely testing every last bit of your patience.

“I want to make one thing very, very clear.” You hiss once you’re finally standing toe-to-toe with the handsome interloper who, of course, makes no room to get up himself. “I have never – not even once – slept with Martin Westbrook. He’s a friend, you backwoods jackass. Something you clearly know nothing about.”

“I get the feeling I struck a nerve.”

And, judging by the newfound tick in his jaw, so had you. Except you had no way of knowing it was because he’d lost a buddy of his own a little while back.

“And I think it’s about time you got the hell out of my shop.” His piercing blue eyes fly to yours, letting you know that you’d managed to surprise him with your heated dismissal.

Good. Because this Ari Levinson fella had officially overstayed his welcome.

“Look, Duchess. I apolo –”

“That’s the second time you’ve called me out of my name, Mr. Levinson. And I’m not sure I appreciate it.” You spit as you take a step backwards with the intention of giving him enough space to stand. “Now, I’ve been nothing but amenable to your rather…invasive questions. But we’re done. So, I’m gonna have to insist that you leave.”

Before you decided he’d make a deserving candidate for death by a thousand paper cuts.

Your pulse continues to thrum in your ears as you watch him rise to his full height – an impressive 6’4 – so that he now towers over you. Perhaps if you weren’t so angry you’d be a little more tempted to allow your mind to wander a little farther into the realm of fantasy.

But not now.

Right now, in this moment, all you wanted was to watch Ari Levinson’s sculpted ass walk right out your front door.

Nodding, the now quiet bounty hunter begins moving in the direction of the entrance. Neither of you say a word as you make that quick walk. In fact, you don’t speak again until Ari’s hand is on the handle.

“For what it's worth…” He blows out a weary breath. “This wasn’t how I meant for this to go.” His eyes find yours, as if imploring you to see the truth in them.

However, instead of responding all you can do is offer up a shrug. Which he, of course, takes as an opportunity to keep going.

“It’s just…the idea of someone like you getting caught up with a piece of slime like Westbrook…” He pauses long enough to open the door and take a tentative step outside. “I guess it bothered me more than I realized.”

His reluctant admission has your stomach tied up in knots, which prompts you to ask the one question you were almost certain you’d regret later:

“And just what do you mean by that?” You do your best to seem unruffled as you awkwardly brace yourself against the doorframe.

“All I’m saying is that you’re out of his league.” Feeling even more confused, you watch as Ari’s lips curve in a faint smile. “And if you didn’t know that before, well, now you do.” His head dips politely as he turns to head towards his truck.

“Guess I’ll see you around, Duchess.” You don’t have to see his face to know that he’s grinning. “Oh, and don’t forget to lock up. Might help with all those unwanted visitors you’ve been havin.”

Ari doesn't need to turn his head to know that you're currently giving him the finger. He can feel it. And all it does it make him smile harder.

END

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radioisntdead · 3 days

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Ways to piss off an Italian

Alternatively three ways to cartoonishly piss off an Italian

Hazbin hotel x reader [Platonic]

Warnings:

Italian stereotypes, just jokin' around this is all in good fun! I put an Imp OC of mine in as the reader assistant! She just pops in and out to stir things up! Reader's learning to cook other types of food because they've hadn't had to cook for themselves in ages they just had others do it. Ending is a little off but we don't talk about that I finished this at 6 am I need sleep, Angel isn't that pissed mostly dismayed

Good evening folks! This is a side story with Eldritch horror reader and Angel dust because he's Italian, this is somewhat inspired by my own bit of how my younger self made it her mission to piss off Italians because of that Italian TikTok duo back in 2020-2021 [???] She did not succeed as she did not know any Italians and all she did was eat spaghetti noodles with anything but a fork.

this is also the 100 followers special! Now at the time of posting we are FAR past that at 207! but better late then never! Thank you so much for the support, I genuinely did not think this many folks would like my silly little writings, I adore getting y'all's requests, comments, and just appearing in my inbox genuinely it makes my day thank you! And I hope you enjoy!

Angel Dust took great pride in his Italian heritage and culture, as he was truly Italian.

Unfortunately he lived with a centuries old Eldritch horror who may or may not have lived in Europe during the bubonic plague and didn't understand the more "modern'' Italian or Italy at all, and others that didn't understand the "sacredness" of the Italians.

🍝The spaghetti.🍝

You took over cooking in the hotel, you and Alastor had begun fighting over the kitchen, whoever got there first got to cook and today, you were victorious.

You were exploring new recipes you had thus far made spicy tteokbokki and Korean corn dogs, some type of curry that was sonic blue, teriyaki chicken, hummus and other things! You experimented with different flavors, seasonings,

These tasty things would've ended you if you ate it back when you were alive and not dying of the bubonic plague.

Anyways, you decided to give making spaghetti a try because you were in the mood for something fairly easy to make.

As you perused the recipe book while humming along to the songs playing from Alastor's radio show, you nodded noting down the ingredients before pulling out the phone that the little Imp that worked for you had bought you insisting you should have one to contact her instead of hunting her down at random and dragging her away.

You squinted as you scrolled through the few contacts you had until you reached said imp's phone number and slowly texted her a barrage of ingredients to buy.

Cece carefully opened the hotel doors and skittered over to the kitchen, having memorized the route since she delivered ingredients to you almost daily at this point.

You grinned as you took the ingredients from Cece's hands turning around to place them on the counter while she pulled up a chair and sat down waiting for the inevitable "Dear Cece can you cut this" or "Dear Cece can you stir this"

You washed off the tomatoes before slicing in an x and blanching them, you peeled the tomatoes after and diced them up before putting them aside to cut up yellow onions, you gathered them up and placed them into a pan, sprinkling in salt to unleashed the onion liquids and sweetness.

You added in some prechopped garlic and let it saute.

While that was happening you took the tomatoes and crushed them, once done you combined the tomatoes with the rest letting it simmer.

You added other components like herbs, basil and a little olive old at the end just for fun.

You filled up another pot with water to boil, sprinkling a twinge of salt and stirring it in.

You brushed your hands on your apron, as you scooted around to find the box of spaghetti noodles, grinning you opened it and take out the pasta.

It was at this unfortunate moment Angel dust decided to waltz on into the kitchen, intending to see what was for dinner and maybe snag something to munch on, you held the dry pasta over the pot, both hands gripping the ends

"Hey tentacles, what's for- WHAT THE FUCK!''

"Good evening Dearest Angel! I'm making spaghetti!"

You said unfazed as the pasta snapped in half and dropped into the pot as Angel dust watched in pure horror.

"Why would you do that?!" Angel asked, his voice pitched as he asked arms gesturing to the pot of sad broken pasta boiling away.

"Make spaghetti? I didn't think it was such a controversial meal"

"No! You broke the pasta! That's like the biggest sin ya can do! What is wrong with ya?"

"We're already in hell, I don't think sins matter much here," Cece popped in, you jumped slightly forgetting the imp was there.

"They do when it comes to' fuckin' pasta toots!"

Angel dust shouted before promptly turning around and leaving the kitchen, leaving you completely confused and Cece amused, unfortunately her amusement turned into irritation as you asked her to grab the ground beef and roll it into balls so you could cook them because meatballs.

During dinner time your spaghetti was a hit!

Charlie complimented your cooking saying you outdid yourself while Vaggie was grabbing a second serving, Sir Pentious enjoyed slurping up the noodles, Niffty kept stabbing the meatballs foe whatever reason, Husk seemed to enjoy the meal however Angel dust had one pair of arms crossed while he reluctantly ate, it was good he could admit but he knew the sin that you had committed while cooking, he knew that innocent pasta had been broken.

Angel dust almost died a second time when he walked into the kitchen later that night for a midnight snack and witnessed a probably drunk Husk eating leftover spaghetti pasta with ketchup because the sauce you had made was on a higher shelf in the refrigerator and he didn't feel like climbing.

🍕 pineapple pizza time.🍕

You and Alastor had... For lack of better words got into a little fight over the kitchen, tentacles, shadows, mild mind control and other things were used until Vaggie stepped in and separated the two of you,

It was decided that pizza would be ordered for the hotel, much to Alastor's disapproval.

Cheese, pepperoni, pineapple and ham, and supreme were the pizzas ordered unbeknownst to Angel dust since he was coming back to the hotel from a hangout with Cherri.

"Angel! Welcome back we ordered pizza!" Charlie said waving the spider over as Vaggie placed the pizza boxes onto the table.

"Great! I'm starvin'!" Angel walked over just in time to see the box containing pineapple pizza opened up.

"Nevermind I'll starve."

"We have other pizzas Angel."

Vaggie did not get paid enough to deal with this, she didn't even get paid!

Angel dust was extremely disappointed in you, you were the one to suggest getting pineapple pizza because you quote, "Never had it before and wanted to try it",

You were well over a few centuries old, you weren't a child, you had gone to hell and become an overlord that rained terror for a couple of years and therefore you should've been able to tell that pineapple on pizza was a crime against humanity, so what if pizza wasn't a thing during your time, it was a thing that came to be while you were down here!

He had later lectured you about it, it was amusing to you! You were a feared overlord and yet this little Italian guy had the gull to lecture you, this was normal in families right? To not be afraid of each other? How wonderful!

The lecture eventually switched over to Husk who was eating pizzas folded which was just weird because he was just tasting the crust! What about the cheese? The sauce? THE SAUCE HUSK? DO YOU NOT TASTE IT?

Husk was too sober for the lecture, Alastor found it amusing though.

🇮🇹Italian PowerPoint presentation 🇮🇹

"Alright tentacles, we're havin' a intervention!" Angel dust said throwing his hands down on the coffee table as you sipped something from a teacup, probably tea.

"Is what you dragged us here for? This shit?"

Husk was here, how did he always get dragged into these things? Niffty was beside him trying to stab a roach, Charlie and Vaggie were out of the hotel, Alastor was hell knew where, probably doing radio stuff and Angel dust had somehow tracked down your assistant and dragged her there.

"Oh! Whatever for dearie?" You asked head tilted as you placed your cup on the table,

"You've committed so many fuckin' crimes in the past week! Ya' broke the pasta before puttin' it in the pot! Ya' put cream in the carbonara! Ya ate pineapple on pizza, I get we're in hell but are ya fuckin' kiddin' me?-" Angel moved his arms around to empathize his point "Not to mention that little fusion stunt, ya' deranged octopus!"

You hummed thinking about the meals you've made recently before responding, "I don't think I made anything bad?"

"You decided to put tomato sauce, cheese and pepperoni on cooked ramen and stuck it in da' oven and ate it."

"It wasn't as good as the little people on the interwebs said."

"OF COURSE IT WASN'T GOOD IT WAS A CRIME! IT CAME OUT OF THE DEEPS OF HELL."

"Eh, it wasn't that bad" Cece popped in to stir the pot, Angel slowly turned around becoming slightly more spidery

"The fuck did ya just say?"

Cece shrugged, "Food's expensive and I need to eat."

Cece was picked up and thrown on the couch with you as Angel dust set up a PowerPoint presentation about the history of Italian food and whatever else, You did not want to be here you'd rather be drinking your drink in peace, Husk didn't want to be here he'd rather be drinking, your hellborn imp assistant didn't want to be here, she's never going to Italy she didn't need to know this and Niffty, well she's still stabbing things on the floor.

By the time Charlie and Vaggie returned you had zoned out completely and your mind was elsewhere, Niffty was napping on your shoulder, Cece had escaped by asking Angel if garlic bread was Italian and while he went on that tangent she ran out abandoning everyone.

Husk was more dead inside then per usual, he wasn't paid enough for this, the first hour was fine but this had been going on for five hours at this point, how did Angel dust manage to drag this PowerPoint presentation out so long?

Vaggie shut it down after it was realized that you weren't responding and they thought you had somehow died,

You did not die and you eventually snapped out of it when a white cloth was put over you in order to hide the body.

Good evening folks! Thank you for turning on in! I hope you enjoyed, my apologies for taking forever to get this out, if your wondering why it feels like there's a missing gap that's because I wrote a whole lil' thing of reader and Alastor combining forces to annoy Angel and I accidentally deleted it.

I'm gonna rewrite it eventually and add it to a different fic with Eldritch horror reader, also If your wondering why I have an imp OC in here there is a reason with Eldritch horror and their family complex you'll see eventually

I'll be getting the readers backstory which will be the 200 follower special out [hopefully] soon so tune on in for that! Thank you again have a wonderful day!

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #angel dust & reader #angel dust x reader #hazbin x reader #hazbin x you

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whimsyeo · 2 days

Text

norman f*cking rockwell

જ⁀➴ jeong yunho x fem!reader (ft. san)

❝love, as you knew it, began and ended with yunho. ❞

wc; 2.7k

cw; angst, infidelity, unhealthy relationship, crying, insecurity, slightest bit suggestive towards the end

🎧 norman fucking rockwell, pretty when you cry, national anthem, cinnamon girl, shades of cool by ldr

Jeong Yunho was a dream.

You often wondered, especially in the beginning, how you could ever be so lucky. Thought, why in the world had he noticed you in a room full of people with so many others much closer to him in status. Although three years ago, he wasn't quite yet the household name he has become now. But from the moment you meet him, you knew. What Yunho could be - what he would be someday.

From dating around in the city, your qualifications for a decent partner became more vague with each dead end, nothing-more-than-a-nice-dinner date. Don't be a complete jerk, was the only remaining requirement on your list when you first met Yunho. Perhaps made to be the slightest bit of a cynic by then because of so many bad experiences, you didn't so much as swoon when he directed his truly angelic smile at you. Complimenting your appearance only after he greeted you with a kiss on the back of your hand.

Stereotypical and overly chivalrous as he was, you didn't buy it. And you wouldn't have admitted it then, probably not even now - that the effect, still, was immediate.

You knew then you shouldn't get your hopes up. Yunho was still up and coming in the industry, but working as a writer had showed you just how little experience had to do with how any and every actor could walk around like the world owed them just by existing. But what was one more possible bad date story to tell San over a brunch debrief the morning after? What have you really to lose?

So when Yunho asks you once the party ends if you're free for lunch the next day, of course you say yes. Never would you have anticipated how quickly he could crumble your walls to dust and worm his way through your rib cage into hold such a vice grip on your heart. Maybe it was always supposed to happen that way, as you can't imagine falling any differently with Yunho on the other side of it.

Everyone he meets always falls a little in love by the end of the conversation, you were sure of it. So, in a way, there wasn't ever a timeline in which you didn't end up completely in love with Yunho. You were just fortunate enough to be living in the one where somehow, he did, too.

When you think of Yunho, you think of the sun. Fireworks lighting up the sky after it sets along the horizon and the summer breeze rushing past while you still feel warm to the touch. It's the little things, too. His hand on the small of your back when crossing the street. His insistence on opening every door you ever walk through. How he waits to pick up his own fork until you to take the first bite at dinner. The blinding smile that takes over his face after finding you in a crowd across the room.

When things had begun to change, you hadn't the slightest idea. Everything did, and yet nothing did, really. He still opened the car door for you, but no longer texted you random updates in between breaks for filming. He still swung your interlocked hands when you walked down the street, but now didn't ask to stop and take pictures together every few blocks. You still had date nights, however rare with his constantly packed schedules, but these days you spent most dinners at home like you had most nights as well. Alone.

You go to sleep and Yunho's not there, or wake up to him long gone - sometimes both. At one point he would leave cute little notes on your nightstand, apologizing for having to rush out and detailing his plans for the day, but even those had eventually stopped.

You don't talk about it. You can't, not really. Not when he goes about life as normal. Smiling at you gently on those hard to come by mornings you do have together, your coffee waiting for you on the counter, made just the way you like it. How can you say anything is wrong when he looks so happy to finally be able to share a meal with you, going on about the outtakes behind his latest drama, questioning you with the stars in his eyes about your recent works right after?

There's never a right time to admit you're hurting. Especially not when it appears you are the only one feeling this way.

"You're thinking too loud," Yunho grumbles from behind you, voice laced with sleep. He lazily throws his arm over your middle to pull you close.

At times you could almost forget you're still sharing the same bed. Even with your lover pressed against your back, it feels as though you really couldn't be further apart.

"Sorry," you mumble back. "Did I wake you?"

You feel his hair brush against your neck as he presumably shakes his head. His lips press against your bare shoulder. Not quite kissing, just resting them there.

"Want to talk about it?"

Your instinct is to say no, brush it off like you often do. Like when Yunho catches your dazed look drifting away from the conversation, or the brief lull that follows from cutting yourself off right when you are about to ask. The situation never seems right for it, and you're beginning to realize there likely won't ever be a good time if you don't just speak up now.

"I miss you," you start. Too vague, you realize, so you continue. "It's like we're always just missing each other, I guess. Going through the motions, but not together. It doesn't even feel like we're living in the same house anymore."

Yunho hums against your skin. You assume it's an encouragement to keep going, but you have nothing more to say. The pressure of those words lifted such weight off your chest that it seems like saying anything more about how you've felt recently would be too much, and you'd flounder.

"I'll be better," he promises. He makes a lot of those lately. You still believe them every time. "Filming finishes soon, and then I'll be all yours."

You should say something else, but what? You are both well aware that once filming ceases for his drama he goes straight into preparations for his next movie. And once the final episode for his current project airs in the coming weeks, there will be even more offers pouring in. For movies and shows and the likes. Everyone wants a piece of Jeong Yunho these days. You're not the only one.

Yunho adjusts his hold on you, not letting up as he moves to lay back down. It won't be long before he falls asleep again. You can only hope exhaustion will catch up to you eventually, before the burning behind your eyes finally form the tears you've been denying for what feels like forever now.

You think back to a comment San had made the last time you too had hung out. Some time has past since that cloudy morning you saw your best friend last, when he softly spoke words that would unknowingly stick with you for the weeks to come. He likely believed you hadn't even heard him over the hard rainfall against the café windows, but you did. Once you realized the cracks in your heart hadn’t yet filled, you wished you hadn’t.

"If things seem too good to be true, they probably are."

As he was with most things, San was right.

He had never liked Yunho, not from the very second San had met him at the very first group hangout he ever came to. San was polite at least, if not overly formally in a way that was telling to only you. As for why - he couldn't really explain it himself.

"It's just this feeling I get around him. I don't like it."

San's gut instincts were never wrong. And while you were already nothing short of completely enamored by Jeong Yunho, you weren't in too deep. Yet. It wasn't too late pull back, but San hadn't asked that of you. Wouldn't, either, without impeccably good reason.

Rather, he pulled back. Often missing outings with your other friends when he knew Yunho would be there. You saw less and less of him the more you and Yunho's lives became intertwined. It made you feel awful, but San insisted it was a him thing.

Being completely caught up in Yunho's web led you to accepting that fact much faster than you probably should have.

On the rare occasions you do hang out, one on one, no Yunho in sight - you never talk about him. Until one day, San's curiosity seemingly gets the better of him.

"How have you and lover boy been?" He would ask. And he always did, avoided saying Yunho's name like the plague.

"Don't ask questions you don't care about the answers to."

You can't pretend it doesn't hurt. Not having your boyfriend and closest friend get along is one thing, but San's seemingly unfounded detestation for Yunho is something else all together.

"I do care about you," he mumbles, continuously fiddling with his cup of iced coffee. He's done more passing it back and forth between his hands than ever drinking from it.

Your silence is all that answers him. There's not much you can say, when nothing is out right wrong, anyway. You don't trust yourself to not break down, either. Because saying it out loud will make it real.

San sighs, "I'm sorry for not spending much time with you these days." He finally takes a sip from his drink, no doubt long since watered down now from going untouched this whole time. "I try not to step in your time together, either. I know how hard it probably is to come by lately. He’s all over the place.”

There was a point in time, not even too long ago, that you would've told San everything. You find yourself fighting the very urge to now, to tell San that those days were more rare than he would believe. That you're beginning to doubt everything about yourself and your relationship. And that it seems like you are the only one bothered by it all.

Maybe you're also scared of proving San right, of hearing him say 'I told you so'. You're entirely too afraid to admit that you know something is going on and all the insecurities you had in the beginning of your relationship have come back a tenfold. San surely wouldn't leave you alone then, if he knew just the kind of downward spiral you were heading towards, being stuck in your own mind all the time.

So you bite your tongue, and reassure him that there's nothing to apologize for.

You don't anticipate ever opening up to San about the problems you're facing regarding Yunho. But one minute, you're sat alone at a table meant for two, hours after the time your reservation was made for. Then the next you're standing at San's apartment door, drenched from the pouring rain outside.

You barely remember the ride here or why you thought coming to San was the best first choice of action. Knocking before you can even stop yourself, and barley given the time to consider running away when San opens the door.

You meet his worried eyes, and the first brick of your carefully crafted walls fall.

You still haven't cried. Not even after you're sat on the couch with San, dressed in dry clothes, freshly made cup of coffee in hand. It's going cold and you haven't even taken a sip. Can't. It's not the way Yunho makes it.

San doesn't ask. Doesn't really have to, but he's always been the curious type, so you know he's only holding out for you. Which is why you start talking and don't stop.

A hand on your back, soft spoken reassurances in between your brief pauses for air. Even when you go quiet for extended periods of time San never says 'I told you so'.

Instead, "You don't deserve this."

You want to believe San. He was right about Yunho after all. But San could've never accounted for how hard you’d fall - how your heart would bend and mold to make a perfect Yunho shaped place in your chest, a spot only he could ever fill.

You hadn't know love before Yunho. Not like this. This feeling like if he ever stopped loving you, you'd be left afloat in the middle of an ocean’s storm, simply praying for the sun to come out again. Every fulfilling breath you could take now, not filled with salt water, is only because he loves you too.

It's almost comical. Cheesy enough to have been a moment pulled straight from one of Yunho's many drama scripts; the white button down in your hand, and the burgundy lipstick stain on it's collar.

For a reason you can't explain you just know this isn't a one off, possibly drunken after party mistake. It doesn't help that Yunho doesn't even jump to fill the silence with carefully crafted defenses of himself, only standing in the doorway to your bedroom with wide eyes, noting your every expression. You hope you don't look as defeated as you feel, but with how Yunho is walking towards you with slow steps while you remain entirely unmoving, you already know you've lost.

"Do you love her?"

There's no point in pretending anymore. The truth is out, and it hurts more than you ever thought it could. The prickly feeling of thorns that have been growing around your heart for what feels like forever now suddenly morph into bigger, sharpened blades, stabbing deeper with seemingly every breath you take.

"I love you."

You're eyes burn like never before. You think if the tears start now, they may never stop.

"Do you love her?"

The slightest pause, and then a baited breath.

"I love you more."

It's not enough, you want to shout. You want to do anything but sit there in silence, as Yunho's hands find purchase on your waist. You want to push him away when he starts pressing kisses on your cheek and then down to your neck. You don't want to love Yunho, not anymore.

But the love you feel won't go away overnight. It doesn't go away even now, with his indirect admission of not only infidelity, but deep affection for another. You were foolish to ever believe love was a word that could only ever exist between the two of you.

You briefly wonder, does he hold her chin when he kisses her, too? Does he buy her flowers? Does he send her silly pictures of himself during costume changes? Does he trace shapes on her back while they cuddle? God, does he talk about the future with her? All light eyes and giddy smiles, thrilled by the prospect of simpler days. With a wrap around porch and a dog and a garden?

The first tear falls, and Yunho is quick to wipe it away with the pad of his thumb. His hands are all over you, so gently, as if a more lingering touch will lead you to break. You don't believe it will make a difference.

No, it only makes it worse. How quickly you melt into his embrace, clinging onto his shoulders like your life depends on it. In someways it does - because even if you can't have all of Yunho, any bit of him will suffice. You need the breath of fresh summer air he brings, not the salt water.

Like that of an addict finally getting their fix. His words are the only drug you could ever need. They keep you going if only for a little while, and when you start to fall all you need is the slightest taste - and you're reminded once more of what you could've been missing.

Jeong Yunho was always meant for great things. The world cannot contain him any better than love can. He has always been too good to be true.

"Let me love you," he begs. And you do.

#whimsyworks #ateez x reader #yunho x reader #ateez angst #yunho angst #san x reader #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #yunho imagines #yunho scenarios #jeong yunho x reader #jeong yunho x you #choi san x reader #choi san x you #san imagines #ateez reactions #yunho reactions #yunho x you #san reactions

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pedge-page · 10 hours

Note

Imagine baby Sarah angry with Joel for not giving into her asks and wants like idk candy maybe and sides with reader going behind Joel’s back to ask the exact same thing and then in the middle of the day Joel questions how Sarah got a lollipop and reader says that Sarah told her that Joel said yes but to ask reader as well and they then connect the dots to discover that they’ve been played

Joel Dealing with Preggo Wife: Sarah's Bargain

Notes: I’ve derailed from this prompt a little because Sarah’s gotta outsmart all of the adults in the room.

- - - -

Sarah and Joel are walking through the gas station mart when she spots the colorful rack of assorted candy.

"Daddy, can I have one ring pop?"

"No," he responds plainly, counting the twinkies in his hand and figuring out how many he can get before you yell at him.

"Why not."

He grabs two bottles of Pepsi in one hand before heading over to the check out counter. “Because I said so."

She grumbles and follows close behind him. "If I clean my room--"

"You can't bargain with me. I'm not mom. My answer is no."

She thinks about it for a moment. Then smiles. "Ok Daddy, I understand."

Joel is surprised she acquiesced so quickly. She seems to have gotten over the tantrum phase. Maybe he's doing a pretty good job at this parenting thing after all.

Later on, you take Sarah along with you to go grocery shopping. "Mom.”

"Yes bubba."

"Dad said if I cleaned my room, I could have a ring pop."

You pause, surveying the special deal for pepsi cans. Despite Joel telling you about the suspicious amount of pepsi that’s been disappearing from his stock, you hadn’t touched any. In fact, you had your own stock that you suspect he’s found out and been stealing from.

“What?”

“A ring pop,” she repeats. “Dad said if if cleaned my room, I could have one.”

Thats very uncharacteristic of him to bargain with Sarah.

"He did? So what are you coming to me for?"

"Well he said ONLY if you agreed. Said it was OK but to ask mom first to be sure."

Fuck, making me do the hard decision. Joels always the favorite, and if you say no now, then it’s going to make you the mean mom for no reason. You did see she cleaned her room without being told...

You grab the pepsi case, hoping Joel won't scold you for your own hoarders pile.

You see the innocent batting of her eyes just as you look over to the candy aisle. “Well if Dad said yes..."

Sarah and Joel are sitting at the table as he unwraps his secret stash of pepsi and Twinkie’s away from you.

"I asked mom for a ring pop and she said yes,” she mentions while coloring her book.

Joel freezes with half the cream custard in his mouth. “I said—“

"Its ok! I told her since you had said no, that she didn't need to get me one. I just wanted to see if she would..."

"You trying to set me up against mom?"

"No..." she adds quickly. "I just... thought it would be an interesting experiment.” She smiles softly, before turning to a very mature, saddened tone. “But then I realized it was wrong and I should have listened to you in the first place. So I didn’t take it because I know you said no."

He thinks about it for a moment. Now you’re going to come to him lecturing about why Sarah doesn't get things when she CLEARLY has a good sense of responsibility, going as far to say no to something she clearly wants just to respect him. She's also smart to test both of you, and even when she could have had it, she still refused.

“Alright. Just cuz I'm proud of ya.” He dusts the power from his fingers and fishes for his wallet. “You’re a smart kid. But I don't want you testing your mom n’ me for the same answer. And I don't want to get in trouble with her. I'll get you one. Just this once ok?"

She nods solemnly and crosses her heart. “I won’t say anything.”

The next day, you hear Joel and Sarah coming in from the garage and you quickly stash your pepsi behind the potted plant. Your daughter gives you a fat kiss on the cheek before running to the living room and turning on the tv.

You and Joel sit at the table. “I saw the can by the way.” He remarks.

You grunt, pulling the aluminum from its hiding spot and proudly sipping it before crinkling it in your hand. “Well I haven’t been stealing from you. I …have my own stash.”

Joel gasps, offended and surprised by your double standards. “And you yell at me n’ my Twinkies!”

"There better not be any f-ing twinkies in this house Joel Miller," you point at him threateningly.

"Nope none Nada. Haven't seen any." he slowly tucks the new plastic back full of them under his legs.

"The two of you talk about Sarah having cleaned her room without being told.

"Yeah, I ended up getting her the ring pop,” he tells you.

You furrow your brows.

“?… but, I got her the ring pop. She said you told her I would get if it I also approved? I didn’t want to be the mean mom!"

Fuck, Joel knows you get too worked up on trying to be too nice and cater to Sarah... "What? I told her no first. I never said it was up to you. Then she said she asked you and you said yes, but she refused yours, so I got her it instead for being responsible. I told you to stop worrying about being the nice mom!”

You also know Joel's a sucker for marveling Sarah's experimental mind and working on being responsible over getting what she wants. "She did NOT refuse my offer. what are you talking about?"

Tommy comes in moments later, and waves to the two of you through the open door. Sarah runs up to him near the doorway, and he greets her first suspiciously. They do a funky little hand shake, and you catch a glimpse of something silver going into his palm before she retreats to the living room

"What are you doing here?" Joel asks.

Tommy shrugs. "Uh nothin’ just.."

"Did you just slip her a ring pop??" You ask incredulously.

He huffs a guilty sigh. "Sarah asked for a ring pop because you guys told her no, so I went to pick one up at the store as long as she didn’t tell either you...."

Fuck. You and Jole BOTH know Tommy's complex about wanting to be Sarah's favorite uncle (despite the fact you keep reminding him he's her ONLY uncle and he has no competition).

Above all else, Sarah knows these weakness about each of you. You all look over to her as she unwrap a third ring pop, putting all of them on her one hand and switching back and forth sucking on them. There's an open Pepsi can clutched in her other tiny palm that she sips from, with an exceedingly satisfied grin on her face.

- - - -

Taglist:

@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrsoharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee @cassiecasluciluce @loohoop

#joel miller fan fiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #last of us fanfiction #joel miller fic #the last of us fanfiction #joel and sarah #joel miller fluff #the last of us fluff #the last of us fic #tlou fluff #tlou fic #tlou fanfiction #last of us fic #joel dealing with preggo wife

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captainremmington-13 · 2 days

Text

A Lady Made of Snow

DISCLAIMER: I don’t own The Hunger Games franchise, the images above, The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes, or any of the characters in this fic other than Bellova. I also do not condone the beliefs or actions of Coriolanus or Bellova.

SUMMARY: Bellova becomes Mrs. Snow.

⚠️Warnings⚠️: THIS IS A VERY DARK CHAPTER. It contains violence, verbal/physical abuse/domestic violence, mention of death and suicide, misogyny, Coriolanus being horrible, HEAVY ALLUSIONS TO SEX, NONCON, swearing

A/n: This was painful to write🥲

𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐬 𝐋𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫

No matter what she did, Bellova couldn’t stop the silent screams that echoed throughout her mind.

This was supposed to be the happiest day of her life.

She’d fantasized about it as a little girl, laying in her bed wide awake when she was supposed to be sleeping, thinking about a beautiful, luxurious wedding held in her honor. How she’d carefully pick her bridal party, and go dress shopping with them, and pick out a gorgeous white gown to walk down the aisle in. How she’d meticulously write out her passionate vows, and how she’d recite them to her future husband while the entire audience struggled to hold back tears of joy. Perhaps she would shed a tear or two, but her blinding smile would distract from that. After kissing her groom, a large reception filled to the brim with all of her favorite foods and drinks would be held. She’d have the first dance with her new husband, and then take the dance floor with her beloved father, who would undoubtedly be hesitant to give her away. But he would, because he loved her, and wanted her to be happy.

As she stared at her reflection in the full-length mirror of her dressing room, she knew that all of those dreams would never be fulfilled.

Half of them had already been crushed.

She had no bridal party. She didn’t get to choose her wedding dress. Her vows were generic and lacked any honesty. If she shed any tears while reciting them, they would be ones of despair. The kiss she shared with her husband would be for show, not because he really loved her. The reception and the first dance would be for the cameras and newspapers only.

And there would be no father-daughter dance.

Her husband-to-be had ensured that.

“You’re all set, miss,” the makeup artist said, setting down the brush that had been dusting powder across Bellova’s cheeks. “Do you feel comfortable in your gown? If you need anything adjusted, please let us know now. The ceremony will be quite long, and it will be less enjoyable if you are in any kind of pain.”

‘I am,’ the repressed voice inside of her wanted to scream. ‘I have been for almost a whole year.‘

Instead, she shook her head. “I’m fine, thank you. I require no adjustments.”

Bellova looked at her reflection once more, and an invisible string forced her lips to smile.

The white silk wedding dress was a custom design, made specifically for her and only her to wear. The neckline, which was an off-the-shoulder cut, was lined with faux white roses. They were itchy, and in Bellova’s opinion, they looked extremely tacky. They were beautiful, but she knew they were only there to remind her who she belonged to. The dress laced up in the back, giving her waist a “snatching” effect. If it was tightened just a centimeter more, she was sure it would crack her ribs.

Besides the roses, she hated the ridiculously large bow at the bottom of the corset laces the most. It looked far too girlish for a grown woman.

But she had no say in the making of the dress. And she knew by now that protesting would only make her miserable life worse.

Her mind was dragged through hell and back every moment she was awake. Most of the time, she was morphed into a completely new person. She felt like a puppet being controlled by the devil himself, doing and saying things against her will. She only came out of this trance-like state at night, when the curse Dr. Gaul had planted on her was lifted temporarily. She would unleash her rage as quickly and violently as she could, throwing things and screaming profanities. Her captor had to make her bedroom soundproof, because her piercing cries would alarm the staff of the Reginelle estate.

One night, Enolio had burst into her room after hearing a loud bang and a scream. Bellova had thrown a punch at her fiancé but missed, giving him an opportunity to lift her up and slam her to the ground.

The next morning, when she awoke, she was back under the influence of the serum. A small voice suppressed deep in her brain screamed for her to ask what had happened to the butler, but she couldn’t get the words out. It was as if an invisible gag was stuffed into her mouth.

She never saw Enolio again.

“Could you give me a moment alone, please?” Bellova said to the makeup artist. “I’ll make my way to my designated place in a moment so the ceremony can begin.” The woman nodded, and left the room promptly.

As soon as she was alone, the tears that had been threatening to spill over for the three hours it took to prepare for the wedding finally came. She sunk down to the floor, shaking like a leaf.

It took all of her mental strength to fight against the hypnotizing drugs that had infected her brain. They threatened to take away any ounce of autonomy she had over herself, and if she allowed that to happen, she wasn’t sure if she’d ever be able to regain it. It was if a thick fog had settled over her mind, and she had to constantly strain her eyes to see through it. If she let her guard down, she’d start believing she was truly the submissive girlfriend of the Snow heir.

She had to get out of here. By tying the knot, she’d be tying herself to him forever. That would mean that he won. That she had given up, and accepted her fate as his wife slave.

She longed to make a run for it, escaping the venue and heading for the Capitol border. But where would she go? She had nobody to seek shelter with. She wouldn’t make it far, anyway. Her dress was heavy and long, greatly restricting her ability to move. Peacekeepers or one of the guests would catch her before she got very far.

And after her fiancé got through with her, she’d be utterly, completely doomed.

She’d rather die by her own hand than his.

But suicide would mean that he had won. And she’d suffered for so long that she couldn’t bear to give him that.

No, she would live on. She would play along, for the sake of her own survival.

And when the perfect opportunity arose, she would strike. She would make him regret ruining her life and her future. She would laugh as he pleaded for mercy, and then bring him immeasurable pain.

But at the moment, she had a wedding to attend. Her wedding.

Bellova sighed, plastering a smile on her dolled-up face.

It was time for her to officially become Mrs. Coriolanus Snow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bellova’s head spun.

Her dress was feeling more like a straight jacket every minute. Her high heels were digging into her Achilles, and she was sure they had broken the skin. Between that and the never-ending turmoil inside of her mind, she felt like she was going to faint.

She gasped for air as subtly as she could, as not to alert the hundreds of guests attending the reception. She didn’t want to cause a fuss and pay the consequences in private.

After all, she knew that Coriolanus wouldn’t hesitated to “discipline” her. He’d made that very clear during the past several month.

Her husband was seated mere inches from her, sipping a glass of champagne. A silver ring glistened on his left hand. It had been custom made, and matched Bellova’s perfectly.

She looked down at her own wedding band. It was borderline obnoxious, but it was fitting for a family as pretentious as the Snows. Each of the stones was clear with a slight blue hue, and they were arranged to resemble a snowflake.

It was her another way for Coriolanus to declare her as his.

Bellova finished her glass of wine. It was her third of the night, and she was starting to feel extremely foggy. She knew it was not the smartest idea to become inebriated on her wedding night, but it helped ease the physical and mental pain.

She kept her mouth sealed, only speaking to guests who approached the newly wedded couple to congratulate them. Even then, she only said a few words, giving them a polite “thank you for coming”. She did her best to look elated.

Part of her conscience, which had been overtaken by that wretched serum, truly was happy. It tried to convince her that she’d just tied the knot with the love of her life.

But deep down, she was fuming.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Coriolanus glance at his watch. It was nearing midnight, and most of the guests were beginning to retire to their homes. Soon, it would be time for them to leave as well.

But they wouldn’t be going back to the Reginelle estate. No, they would be taking a limousine to District Four, where their honeymoon suite was waiting for them.

Bellova’s stomach churned unpleasantly. She knew all about what usually happened during the first night of married life.

She knew she couldn’t resist Coriolanus without being tortured or drugged again. He’d just inject her with her nightly dose of the serum, and then she’d have little to no control over herself.

Should she try to enjoy it? She’d be lying if she claimed she’d never fantasied about sleeping with Coriolanus before.

But this wasn’t how she’d imagine it would be. Not in the slightest.

In her daydreams during her Academy days, she had imagined it would take place once Coriolanus finally stopped bitching at her. He’d realize how perfect she was for him, and would beg her to be his girl. And when they were both ready, they’d take things to the most intimate level.

But Bellova was fully aware that Coriolanus didn’t love her. If he did decide to sleep with her, it wouldn’t be out of love. It would be yet another of his acts of dominance, to reassure him that he was in control.

Bellova looked down at her lap to avoid her husband’s gaze, her heart sinking deeper into her stomach by the second.

Though she couldn’t see it, she could feel Coriolanus give her a cold, cruel smile.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If Bellova thought she was anxious before the wedding, she had no idea what to call her current state.

Coriolanus had a vice-like grip on her left hand, and there was no indication that he’d release her anytime soon. This had started as soon as their driver announced that their destination was only ten minutes away.

He hadn’t spoken a word to her since they’d gotten in the limousine. Bellova had been slightly offended hurt by this. Shouldn’t a husband be happy to be in his wife’s company?

‘Stop being stupid,’ the small voice whispered. ‘He doesn’t give a fuck about you, he’s not going to even pretend he cares while you’re in private.’

Bellova slumped against the back of the car seat. She was still dizzy from all of the alcohol she had consumed, but refused to fully let her guard down.

Coriolanus could wreak unspeakable terrors on her if she stopped resisting.

As soon as she was alone with Coriolanus were alone in their luxury oceanside suite, Bellova felt the serum start to wear off.

Coriolanus picked up both of their bags and headed towards the bedroom. Bellova followed suit, metaphorically dragging her feet. He was still ignoring her, which forced a small pout into her lips. She couldn’t help but feel disappointed that her beloved wasn’t paying her any attention.

The bedroom was lavish, but not nearly as nice as her own. The king-sized bed had white silk sheets, and the walls were decorated with oil paintings depicting ocean scenery. There was a large balcony overlooking the sea, which held two plush lounge chairs and a small glass table. Everything was so picturesque that it could’ve been straight out of a romance novel.

Alas, her life was anything but love story.

As soon as Coriolanus tossed his blazer in a hamper in the corner and began loosening his tie, Bellova felt her stomach constrict.

Was he actually going to fuck her?

Bile rose in her throat. She wasn’t a desperate little schoolgirl anymore, clinging to hopeless dreams. She was a victim, a victim of Coriolanus Snow’s unrelenting apathy.

No. She wouldn’t let him have his way with her.

The searing pain in her temples told her that she was now in full control of herself. She had to act before she was dragged back under again.

Bellova kicked off her designer heels, not caring in the slightest if they broke, and prepared herself for yet another grueling fight.

But before she could lunge at her enemy, Coriolanus’s head snapped towards her, making her freeze on the spot.

His shirt was already halfway unbuttoned. This didn’t phase her, she’d seen him naked several times before, but purposefully chose to forget those moments.

It was the hungry gaze in his eyes that made her blood turn to ice.

“You’re really going to do this now?”

The nonchalance in his tone made Bellova want to scream.

“What are you talking about?”

“Are you going to fight like a rabid animal during the first night of our honeymoon?”

Bellova sneered at him. “A broken nose would match perfectly with your crimson tie, if I do say so myself.”

Coriolanus laughed humorlessly. “Hilarious. Now get undressed.”

Bellova’s fists clenched instinctively. If it wasn’t for the fact that he had a stash of syringes full of that dreaded in his briefcase, she would have decked him in the jaw.

“No.”

Coriolanus rolled his pretty eyes, stepping towards her. She backed away, but her spine quickly hit the wall of the room. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way, Mrs. Snow. Though it’s not like you have much of a say, anyhow.”

The way Coriolanus had spat out her new title made her flinch. It sounded so wrong, being called Mrs. Snow instead of Miss Reginelle.

“I don’t want you, and you don’t want me. Therefore, we don’t need to do anything tonight. It’s simple, really.”

“Don’t talk to me like I’m fucking stupid,” Coriolanus barked. “If we don’t sleep together, people will talk. It’ll look bad for both of us. The press will say-“

“That’s all you care about these days,” Bellova said harshly. “And you’re assuming that the press will somehow know whether or not we fuck.”

The paranoia was evident in Coriolanus’s eyes. Clearly, this was a very important matter to him. Not because he actually wanted her, but because his shining reputation could be tarnished with rumors concerning their bedroom life.

“If you stop being a bitch for once, maybe I’ll let you stay off of the serum while we’re in bed, and I’ll consider making this enjoyable for you.”

Bellova rolled her eyes. He sounded like such an asshole, it was a wonder how he didn’t realize it. Or perhaps he did, and just didn’t care.

“What will it be?” Coriolanus asked sharply. “I’m not going to stand around waiting for much longer.”

An eerie silence filled the bedroom as Bellova weighed her options. She could attack him and do as much damage as possible before he drugged her. Or she could give in just for one night, and give herself a break.

She swallowed, and steeled her nerves. She knew exactly what she was going to do.

“Fuck this,” Coriolanus growled. His hand shot to her throat, squeezing so hard that Bellova could already feel the bruises forming. The familiar coldness of a needle poked at the skin on her neck, making her shudder wildly.

She hated it, but she was afraid.

“Please…” she croaked, clawing desperately at his arms. “Don’t do this…not again.”

A horrid scream escaped from her lips as Coriolanus inserted the syringe. She collapsed almost immediately, her face quickly becoming slick with salty tears.

Coriolanus carelessly lifted her up by the arms and tossed her on the bed. Devoid of any passion or desire, he flipped her onto her stomach and started unlacing the corset of her reception gown.

There was no gentleness in his touch.

There was only possessiveness and pure madness.

Bellova squeezed her eyes shut, feeling the pillow beneath her face becoming damp. The more skin Coriolanus revealed, the more disgusting she felt.

As much as she wanted to kick, scream, cry, anything to get away from him, she knew it was useless. The serum was already consuming her, swallowing her true self whole.

By the time he finally got her dress off, she was completely gone.

Coriolanus sucked in a breath, his fingertips ghosting over his bride’s bare thigh. She was already asleep, her body exhausted from everything that had happened throughout the day.

In their later Academy days, Coriolanus had briefly wondered about what Bellova was like in bed. There were quite a lot of rumors that circled around her regarding her sex life, but he knew most of them were fictitious. However, he knew she was no virgin. Bellova had admitted that at her seventeenth birthday party.

However, technically, he had been virgin. He didn’t count what had happened in the alley behind the train station years ago.

Coriolanus stared up at the ceiling, replaying the lustful activities he’d just partaken in in his mind.

It had felt…nice, he supposed. Bellova was pliant and sweet while he was on top of her, thanks to the serum. She had constantly begged for more, and initiated several kisses. He found the pleading quite annoying, and elected to ignore it. Still, she seemed to enjoy herself. He did as well, but found the power he could exert much more thrilling than any physical pleasure.

Coriolanus pulled Bellova’s sleeping form closer to him. He shuddered at the contact of her bare body pressed against his. She stirred slightly, but didn’t wake. She sighed contentedly, and fell limp again.

Coriolanus smiled.

He would ensure that this was part of their nightly routine.

And if Bellova didn’t like it?

Too fucking bad.

✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊❆ ‧

TAGLIST: @daenerysqueenofhearts, @squidscottjeans, @euphemiaamillais, @gracieroxzy, @effectwalker, @vxnilla-hxrddrugs, @mystargirl-interlude

Author’s Note: Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think in the comments! This chapter was truly heartbreaking to write. The next chapters won’t be this depressing, I promise. The next chapter will skip ahead to when Coriolanus is an office Gamemaker.

Also, let me know if you want to be added to the tag list! (I had to add some of y’all to a comment instead becuz tumblr won’t let me tag more people for some reason☹️)

#coriolanus snow #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #coriolanus snow x oc #the hunger games #coriolanus snow x reader #original character #thg prequel #dark!coriolanus snow #suzanne collins

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hbyrde36 · 3 days

Text

for @penny00dreadful

Ch 1 <-

Chapter 2: Yellow Brick Road

WC: 4946 | Ch 2/4 | AO3 <-

They’d been walking for quite a while, nothing to see save for the fields of corn spread out on one side of them, wheat on the other, when they came upon a fork in the road.

Steve stood in the middle of the intersection, peering as far as he could down one path, and then the other, but there was just no way of knowing where each of the winding roads led. He threw his hands up in frustration before settling them on his hips. “Great, just great. Now what do we do?”

“Convenient how no one thought to mention the road split off.” Eddie grumbled.

“Right or left?”

“Flip a coin?”

Steve shrugged, it was as good a way to decide as anything else. “Sure, why not.”

Eddie stared at him expectantly.

“What?” Steve asked.

“Well, I don’t have any money on me.”

“Then why did you suggest flipping a coin?!”

Eddie bristled, as if Steve were the one being ridiculous. “Because you’ve always got spare change on you!”

“It’s those damn kids, always begging me for quarters for the arcade.”

“Did you ever think if you stopped carrying coins, the little shits would stop hitting you up for them?”

Steve frowned. “That’s… hmpf.” Because no, he hadn’t, actually. He started to rummage through his front pockets—a feat, frankly, given how tight his pants were, and wondered how big a fit Dustin would pitch if he were to actually stop handing out free money like he was a goddamn ATM machine.

“Hey!” A voice called out. “Dingus one and Dingus two!”

Steve startled—they hadn’t seen another soul for miles.

He looked all around for the source of the sound and finally spotted something—a lone figure mounted to a pole just inside the split-rail fence, nestled between a few stalks of corn. One of its arms was propped up, pointing, the other resting at its side. He grabbed Eddie’s hand and rushed towards it, swinging his legs easily up and over the wood planks, glimmering heels and all, before helping the other boy do the same.

As they got closer he could see that it was a girl made of straw and burlap—a scarecrow, his brain supplied offhandedly, though her face looked remarkably human and alive.

She winked, and smiled down at them.

Steve gasped, his eyes raking over the dusting of freckles painted over the girl’s cheeks and nose. “No—No way.” He shook his head, taking another step closer. Was every person in this place a version of someone from home?

“Robin?”

The Scarecrow frowned. “Never heard of her.”

Steve deflated. “Right.”

“Is that the way we’re supposed to go? The way you’re pointing?” Eddie asked, getting right to business as if he were unfazed at this newest encounter. Which was fair. It was pretty tame compared to the horrors of the last alternate dimension they’d been trapped in.

“That way’s okay.” She said with a small shrug, before dropping her left arm and raising her right—rotating it like a windmill in the process. “But that way’s pretty good too.”

“Very helpful.” Steve deadpanned.

“Of course,” she went on, ignoring him as she crossed one arm over the other—pointing in opposite directions at once. “People do go both ways.”

Eddie snickered, immediately clapping a hand over his own mouth to stifle his laughter.

Steve felt a rush of heat as he broke out in a full body flush, cheeks flaming. Surely The Scarecrow hadn’t meant—

The thing was, Robin—the real one—had been talking to him a little bit recently about the possibility of going both ways, as it were. He’d been starting to suspect, for no reason in particular, that he might not be as entirely straight as he’d previously thought.

Okay, fine.

There was a reason, and the culprit, cause, and source of his suspicion was standing right next to him, looking at him with those big brown eyes, sparkling with the last remnants of laughter, and smiling in that very particular way that showed his dimples to full effect.

It made Steve feel wild, like a swarm of butterflies had taken flight in his stomach.

He wondered if Eddie knew, if he should tell him, but he wasn’t sure he was ready for that.

It wasn’t the possibility of being bisexual that frightened him. More than a possibility, he supposed—clearly that ship had sailed—what with the way he practically salivated anytime Eddie raised his arms to stretch or reach for something up high, exposing that delicious little strip of tummy and—

Yeah… definitely not straight.

And he knew the other boy was gay, Eddie and Robin had both come out to the rest of the group a few months ago, so, the possibility was there, but just because Eddie liked guys didn’t mean he liked Steve.

All of that to say, his fear lay more in the worry of ruining their friendship if Eddie didn’t feel the same way about him.

“We’re looking for the Emerald City, do you know it?” Eddie was asking The Scarecrow when Steve tuned back into the conversation.

“I can’t say that I do, no, but that’s not much of a surprise. I haven't got a brain, you see.”

“How can you talk without a brain?” Steve asked.

“Seriously?” She quirked a brow. “Have you heard what comes out of most people's mouths? It’s not that hard.”

Well, she had him there.

“The thing is, my words come out faster than my thoughts sometimes, and I just wind up rambling on-and-on until I stop making any sense at all! No one understands me, and I just know if I had a brain it would solve all my problems. “She sighed wistfully, staring off into the middle distance for a moment before seeming to remember that they were there, and snapped back to attention. “What’s in the Emerald City anyhow?”

“A wizard, hopefully.” Eddie said.

“We’re going to see if he can help us get back home to Hawkins.” Steve added.

“Hawkins, huh? That’s a funny name.” The Scarecrow mused. “Well, if he’s capable of interdimensional travel, surely he could handle one measly brain. I’ll even take a second hand one, I'm not picky! Can I come with you?”

Steve resisted the urge to point out that her figuring out all on her own that multiple dimensions even existed was proof enough that she did, in fact, have a brain. He didn’t mind the idea of her tagging along, even if she wasn’t Robin.

“It’s fine with me,” he said, looking to Eddie, who nodded his agreement. “We should warn you though, there's a witch after us.”

“I ain’t afraid of nothing except rabies and talking to girls, which is completely normal.” The Scarecrow paused, thinking it over. “And maybe a lighted match.”

With a little finagling they managed to get her down with minimal damage. Steve held her around the waist while Eddie loosened the nail in the back of the pole, and it would have been fine, but in the heels his center of gravity was a little off, not to mention the uneven ground, so when she was set loose and suddenly he was holding all her weight, it put him off balance, sending them both sprawling to the ground.

She lost a little hay in the fall but quickly shoved it back in, rearranging it this way and that in the front of her top. Steve looked quickly away—it was like watching his sister adjust herself in her bra or something.

“What? You don’t like boobies?” The Scarecrow asked, finally done fluffing herself up.

“Not yours!”

“Well that’s just rude,” she huffed, pushing herself to her feet. She vaulted the fence, and started slowly making her way down one side of the yellow brick road.

Steve glanced up to find Eddie already above him with a hand out ready to help, and he let the other boy tug him to his feet, his skin burning where their palms touched. But Eddie accidentally pulled just a bit too hard and they wound up chest-to-chest, while Steve struggled to find his footing.

“Thanks,” Steve said softly, tongue darting out to wet his lips as his gaze flicked down to Eddie’s mouth, heart beating like a jackhammer.

“Anytime, Stevie,” Eddie whispered back, sounding just as breathless as Steve felt.

They were so close, it would take nothing at all to just lean in and—

“You dweebs comin’ or what?” The Scarecrow shouted from a few yards away.

They broke apart in surprise, sharing an awkward laugh, and hurried to catch up with their strange new friend.

“It’s Steve and Eddie, actually.”

“I’m starving.” Eddie griped for the dozenth time in the last half hour alone.

It wasn’t like Steve couldn’t sympathize, he was hungry too, but Oz didn’t exactly have a convenience store on every corner, and whining about it incessantly wasn’t helping anyone.

Even if he did find Eddie’s whining to be sort-of… cute.

God, he was in so deep.

Thankfully, as they walked, the scenery began to change and the fields that had been flanking them on either side for so long gave way to a grove of trees, and not just any trees–

“Oh!” Steve tugged on the other boy’s shirt and pointed excitedly ahead. “Eddie, look, there's a bunch of apple trees.”

Eddie curled his upper lip in disgust.

“Were you, or were you not, just complaining about our lack of food?”

“Yeah, but I was hoping for a cheeseburger or something, not… fruit.”

“Don’t be a baby,” Steve rolled his eyes as he stepped off the path, heading towards the nearest tree, and reached up to pick one of the many shiny, red, and delicious looking apples.

Before he could even register what was happening, the tree moved, a cluster of its branches wrapping around his wrist like a hand, squeezing tight.

“What do you think you’re doing?” A deep voice croaked.

A voice that seemed to be coming from The Tree.

Had Steve not faced down a demogorgon, demodogs—plural—the Mind Flayer, an entire swarm of demobats, and fucking Vecna, before, he probably would have been terrified at the prospect of a talking goddamn tree, but when he got over the initial shock he was mostly just annoyed that he couldn’t get himself free.

He wrenched and pulled but it was no use, until Eddie appeared at his side, taking hold of The Tree’s other arm—if you could call it an arm.

“Hey man, let go!” Eddie yelled at it. “You didn’t have to hurt him, we were just hungry!”

“How would you like to have someone come along and pick something off of you?!” The Tree barked.

Eddie snarled, bending back several of its smallest branches until the thing squealed in pain. It released Steve abruptly and he stumbled sideways, right into Eddie’s arms, and together they backed up to where The Scarecrow stood.

“It’s alright, Steve. You don’t want any of those apples anyway.” She said, looking down her nose at the offending plant. Er, creature?

Whatever.

“Are you hinting my apples aren't what they ought to be?!” The Tree grunted.

“That depends, are they supposed to have little green worms?”

“Get out of here or I’ll–”

“You’ll what? Grow at me?” She taunted.

The Tree growled, struggling in place and waving its branches at her.

The Scarecrow stuck her tongue out, blowing a raspberry at it, and pulled the boys away by their collars.

They were only a short distance away when she stopped on a dime, whirling back around to face the small orchard. “Get bent by a stiff breeze you weeping willow!”

“What are you doing?!” Steve hissed.

“Getting you some apples, duh,” She shot back. “Come on, catch!”

Steve turned, and sure enough The Tree, along with several of its brethren, were now hurling perfectly ripe apples straight at them. He caught as many as he could, cradling them in the front of his shirt until he couldn’t hold anymore, while The Scarecrow hid behind him.

Eddie, for his part, tried his best, but sports had never been his thing, and it showed. He wound up on hands and knees chasing after a few of the fruits that had rolled away in the soft grass.

The other boy was only out of sight for a moment, but Steve’s heart still dropped when he called out from behind a tall shrub.

Steve rounded the overgrowth in an instant, bracing for whatever new threat had come to find them. He was prepared for a lot of things, a pack of rabid bunnies perhaps, or a sentient rose bush, what he wasn’t prepared to see was a girl made out of tin, and not just any girl—Nancy.

“Nance?”

“I… don’t think that's her name.” The Scarecrow said, circling the other girl’s still form. “I’ve heard of these things. She’s a Tin Woodswoman!”

Steve stared. The girl was frozen like a statue with one arm held aloft wielding an ax, and though she couldn't blink or move her head, her pleading eyes were looking right at him, following him wherever he went.

Suddenly, a sound much like a squeaky wheel came from between her unmoving lips.

“Was that… did you try to say something?” Steve asked.

“Ooooooool ca,” The Tin Woman tried again. “oooooooooil–ca”

Steve snapped his fingers. “Oil can! She said oil can!” It didn’t take long to find the small container with its built-in dispenser stashed behind a nearby tree trunk. “Where should we oil her first?”

“You should probably get her consent before you start in on all that.” Eddie muttered.

“Eddie,” Steve glowered. “Be serious.”

“Not that I know much about these things, but maybe start with her mouth so she can talk?” The Scarecrow suggested.

“Right.” Steve aimed the end of the spout, dispensing a small amount of the liquid to the corners of her mouth.

Within seconds the oil went to work and her lips loosened. “Oh thank goodness I can talk again. Can you oil my arms next, my elbows?” The Tin Woman said.

Steve worked quickly, lubricating all of her joints, but still her one arm was stuck up in the air. Seeing her struggle, Eddie grabbed it and yanked. The limb finally fell, axe and all, the sound of it like an old car door being forced open.

Eddie grimaced. “Oh shit! Sorry, did that hurt?”

“No, it feels so much better, I’ve been holding that ax up for ages.” The Tin Woman assured him, taking a few tentative steps. She only creaked a little.

“What happened to you?” Eddie asked.

“Misread the forecast. About a year ago I came out to cut a tree down when it started to rain. I rusted solid—mid-chop!”

Curious, Steve continued to examine her, wondering what enabled her to walk and talk. Not that it was any weirder than The Scarecrow, really. He knocked on her middle, the sound reverberating like a drum.

“Wow! What an echo! How’d you pull that off?” The Scarecrow asked.

“It always sounds like that.” The Tin Woman shrugged. “I guess the tinsmith forgot to give me a heart.”

The Scarecrow gasped, “no heart?!”

“No heart,” The Tin Woman sighed, hanging her head. “It’s not that I mind not having one exactly, they are easily breakable from what I understand. It's just that, well, it makes me come off kinda cold, y'know?”

Now, this wasn’t Nancy, Steve knew that, but damned if he hadn’t had the same thought about her once or twice after she’d so thoroughly crushed him, calling him and his love bullshit that night in the bathroom at Tina’s Halloween party—and the betrayal that had come after.

Heartless.

He knew it wasn’t strictly true. Those were the thoughts of a boy who’d had his heart stomped on by the first girl he’d ever given it to. Nancy had the capacity to love, and fiercely. He’d seen it in the way she protected the people she cared about, willing to do anything to keep them safe—including him. She just didn’t love him in the romantic way. It had taken him a long time to accept that, to be okay with it and get over her, but as he looked into Eddie’s eyes over the top of The Tin Woman’s pointed funnel hat, he knew it’d all been for the best.

Nancy had a heart, she just didn’t always know how to show it, and he was willing to bet this Tin Woman had one too.

“You should come with us!” The Scarecrow said.

The Tin Woman tilted her head. “Where are you going?”

“We’re going to see a wizard! Eddie—that’s the long haired one.” The scarecrow leaned in to whisper conspiratorially. “And Steve here are trying to get home. I'm in the market for some brains, and I’m sure the wizard could manage a heart for you too!”

“Do you really believe he’ll get you home?” The Tin Woman asked, turning to Steve.

“I hope so, we’ve come such a long way already.” He said.

A shrill cackling laughter filled the air, and in a plume of red smoke The Wicked Witch appeared out of nowhere, atop the roof of a nearby log cabin.

“Long? You call that long? Why, you’ve only just begun!” She sneered down at them, turning her attention on the two newest members of their little party. “And you two lovely ladies, helping them along are you?”

“Yeah, what of it?!” The Scarecrow taunted.

“Stay away from them, or I'll stuff a mattress with you!”

“And you—” The Witch paused, pointing the tip of her broom down at the Tin Woman. “I'll use you for a beehive.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” The Tin Woman growled.

“Oh, the crumpled up wad of aluminum foil wants to play with fire, huh? Let’s see how your highly flammable friend fares against this—” The Wicked Witch raised her hand palm up, conjuring up a fist full of flame that she hurled at their feet.

The Scarecrow shrieked and threw herself to the side, even Steve and Eddie shrank back from the heat of it, but The Tin Woman, who had nothing to fear from a little unfriendly fire, quickly put it out, using her hat to smother the blaze. By the time it was done, The Wicked Witch was gone.

“You weren’t kidding about a witch being after you!” The Scarecrow said.

“About that,” Steve began, rubbing the back of his neck. “I think it would be best if Eddie and I traveled the rest of the way alone. I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to either of you because of us.”

The Scarecrow narrowed her eyes. “Not a chance. I'll see you safely to the Wizard, whether I get a brain or not.”

“Me too!” The Tin Woman agreed.

Not long after their confrontation with The Wicked Witch, they continued on their journey down the yellow brick road, where their surroundings changed yet again. The scattered trees thickened into dense woods, dark where the canopy blocked out most of the sun, and the air was filled with the sinister sounds of unfamiliar wildlife.

“I know I said I wasn’t afraid, but I don't like this forest. It’s dark and creepy.” The Scarecrow said.

Steve shrugged, bumping his shoulder against Eddie’s. “We've seen worse. Anything is better than a sky full of demobats, right?”

“What’s a demobat?” The Scarecrow asked.

“It’s like a regular bat,” Steve began. “Except… not at all? They’re bigger than you might think, with gray leathery flesh, and wings, and these long tails they like to choke you with. Their mouths are small but don’t let that fool you, they’re full of razor sharp teeth.”

Eddie glanced at him sideways, a crooked grin playing on his mouth and a light blush spreading across his face. “I dunno, Harrington. I’d pay good money to see you take a bite out of one of those little fuckers again.”

Steve grinned back, cheeks burning under Eddie’s attention. “That so, Munson?”

The Tin Woman gaped at them. “What is wrong with you two?”

If possible, Steve’s face grew even hotter, but as luck would have it a series of bellowing roars sounded off in the distance, and their flirtation, if it was indeed that, was quickly forgotten.

“What was that?” The Scarecrow whisper-shouted.

“Lions?” Eddie guessed.

Deep growls filled the forest next.

The Tin Woman hung onto the Scarecrow’s arm. “And tigers.”

Steve strained to listen for what else might be out there, and heard a long huff and a distinct gnashing of teeth. “And bears.”

“That doesn’t seem right, all in the same woods?” Eddie murmured skeptically. “Lions, and tigers, and bears?”

“Oh shit.” Steve shouted as something came barreling out of the trees and onto the path, coming straight for them.

They all reared back, cowering away from the oncoming threat and The Tin Woman stumbled in the process, dropping her axe to the brick road with a clang.

Steve scrambled to pick up the fallen weapon, twirling it out of habit as he took up a spot in front of his people, stepping between them and the overgrown stuffed toy who for whatever reason seemed to mean them harm. In hindsight he should have known better than to expect Eddie to stay back with the others and let him handle it, for as much as the guy liked to call himself a runner and a coward, not once had he backed down from a fight when the safety of his friends was in question.

Now being a prime example.

Armed with nothing more than Steve’s tied-together discarded sneakers, which he was swinging around wildly like every teen boy who saw The Karate Kid in theaters and decided to try their hand at nunchucks, Eddie joined Steve at his side, facing their foe head on.

“Put ‘em up, put ‘em up!” The Lion sneered.

Steve was pretty sure he’d had footie pajamas that looked like this guy once.

Mid swing, the laces on Steve’s sneakers came loose from their knot, and one of the shoes went flying out of Eddie’s hands, beaming the lion right in the forehead with a loud smack.

The beast’s paws flew to his head, cradling it as he began to cry hysterically. “What’d you do that for, I didn’t bite him!”

Eddie furrowed his brow, looking from the pathetic sobbing creature to Steve and back again. “Were you… going to bite him?”

“...No?”

Steve scoffed.

The lion moved his giant mitts from his face, tilting it up into the light. “I-Is my nose bleeding?”

“It would serve you right if it was!” The Scarecrow scolded.

Now that Steve had a better look at the guy, he realized he’d seen The Lion’s eyes somewhere before. He peered closer, squinting into the oddly humanoid looking face when it clicked.

He looked back at Eddie and mouthed, ‘Jonathan.’

Eddie snorted.

“Hey, can’t you see he’s just scared?” The Tin Woman said, pushing them both gently aside. She gazed down at The Lion with a telling softness in her eyes, and took up the end of his tail, drying his tears with it. “There now, that’s better.”

He blinked up at her in awe. “I-I’m sorry.”

She patted his hand and smiled. “Now, do you want to tell us what that was all about?”

“Oh, I'm just a stupid coward is all.”

“I don’t know about that,” Steve cut in. “I mean, you did come after the four of us all by yourself.”

“Naw, that’s not being brave. I saw you coming and I got scared, like I always do, and decided to lash out first before you could do the same to me. If I was really brave I'd have just come out and said hello.”

“Well, no harm done I guess, but we should really get going.” Steve said.

“But we can’t just leave him here all alone.” The Tin Woman insisted. “What if we brought him along? Maybe The Wizard can help him too. Even if not, the world is much less terrifying when you’re not alone.”

Steve couldn’t help but look Eddie’s way at that, feeling the truth of her words in his soul. They’d been through so much together since their fraught beginnings at the boathouse—made countless trips into the Upside Down before it’d been destroyed, faced Vecna and his hoard of monsters, twice, and it’d all been that much easier to bear because they’d been together.

Eddie nodded as if he’d heard all of Steve’s innermost thoughts though he hadn’t said a thing out loud, and he knew they were on the same page.

“The more the merrier, I guess.”

Before long they reached the edge of the forest, which opened up into a sprawling meadow full of bright flowers in shades of red, pink, purple, and orange, growing right over the yellow brick road. That sight alone was enough to take Steve’s breath away, but it wasn't the only thing that caught his attention. Just on the other side of the vast ocean of blossoms was a cluster of tall brilliantly green buildings, a city, shining just like the emerald gemstones it was named for.

“There’s The Emerald City!” Steve shouted, pointing towards the horizon excitedly. “Oh, look! Eddie, we’re almost there!”

But Eddie didn’t respond, he was squatting down at the edge of the growth, eyeing the colorful blooms with suspicion.

“What is it?” Steve asked.

Eddie turned concerned eyes up at him. “Something doesn’t feel right about this, like maybe it’s some sort of trap?”

“How can flowers be a trap?”

“Well, for one thing they’re not just any flowers, they’re poppies.”

Steve crinkled his brow. “Okay…”

“Poppies? Y’know, the thing they use to make opium?”

“Oh!”

“What’s opium?” The Scarecrow asked.

“I don't think they have drugs here.” Steve said.

Eddie tilted his head thoughtfully, and shrugged. “That’s fair, no need to trip balls when you already have talking trees.”

“So what do you want to do?” Steve asked.

“I don’t like it, but it doesn’t look like we have much choice. The only way to the Emerald City is through it, so.” Eddie shook his head, pushing himself back to his feet, and reached for Steve's hand. “I guess we’ll go as quickly as we can, and hope for the best.”

The unlikely quintet formed a chain of linked hands and ran together as a unit through the vibrant meadow. At first Steve thought Eddie had been wrong, that it was just an innocent field of wildflowers, but by the time they’d reached the top of the first small hill he was gasping for air, and his legs felt like they were pushing through molasses, unusual for someone who exercised regularly, jogging at least four times a week.

“Wait, wait.” Steve panted, leaning heavily into Eddie as he tried to regain his breath.

“Steve?” Eddie looked him up and down, worrying his bottom lip.

“I can’t run anymore, I–I’m,” Steve cut himself off with a yawn. “I’m so sleepy.” He wobbled in place, knees going weak. The other boy caught him around the middle, lowering him gently to the ground.

“What’s wrong with him?” The Scarecrow asked.

“I don’t know.” Eddie said, studying his face as he hovered over him, eyes wild with panic.

“I have to rest for just a minute.” Steve babbled, knowing it sounded ridiculous. They were so close to their destination, he could practically see the individual windows on the buildings of the Emerald City, and suddenly he wanted to take a nap? Something wasn’t right, but he couldn't seem to fight it.

The Lion yawned loudly. “Now that you mention it, catching a few winks doesn’t sound like a bad idea.” He swayed on his feet, kept upright only by The Tin Woman’s grip on him.

The next thing Steve knew, Eddie was gently prying his eyelids open, though he didn’t remember closing them. “Fuck, I knew something was off about these flowers. It’s that damn Wicked Witch, it has to be!”

Not that Steve was paying much attention to what he said, because god was Eddie pretty like this—his big brown eyes even larger and more beautiful up close, so dreamy, with his dark curls hanging down around him like a curtain.

Eddie's lips parted in surprise as his hands still cradled Steve’s face. “What did you just say?”

Oh shit, in his tired stupor had he actually said some of that out loud?

“Eddie, I–” Steve managed to force out, but Eddie swayed above him, eyes rolling back in his head for a moment before he tipped sideways, falling gracelessly to the ground beside him.

It was becoming harder and harder to keep his eyes open, and Steve knew it was only a matter of time before he succumbed to the magical sleep that was pulling him under. He turned his head and found Eddie looking at him too, doing the same long blinks, both of them fighting a losing battle.

With his last bit of strength Steve reached out, and Eddie reached too, clasping their hands between their bodies, fingers entwining with practiced ease like they were made to fit together.

As Steve’s eyes slipped shut there was another thunk nearby, the distinct sound of a body hitting the ground, something he had unfortunately heard enough times to know, and could only assume The Lion must have been felled by the same thing that’d gotten them.

The last thing he heard as his consciousness faded away, were the terrified shouts of The Scarecrow and The Tin Woman calling out for help.

Chapter 3

Thanks again to @pearynice and @hitlikehammers for all your help with this!

#steddie fanfic #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie wizard of oz #adventures in following the yellow brick road with your crush #steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington/eddie munson #steddie fic #stobin #stobin in every universe

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the-lark-ascending69 · 2 days

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Android Robin thoughts:

As an emotional support android, designed as a therapeutical tool for mental health patients, she was always programmed to easily imitate human emotion. Nancy assumes this is why she always seemed so sensitive and emotional.

The first time Nancy thought there was something more going on was the first time she made Robin cry. It's common knowledge that the only robots who could cry are ones designed to pass as human (ex. as spies, for example), or... adult activities robots, something Nancy found distasteful. She has two concerns now: one, that Steve got her one such android, and two, that someone had attempted to illegally turn Robin into one.

She's not way off on that one - Robin did run away from a previous owner because she learned he planned to have such illegal alterations done to her. He didn't get to go any further than artificial tear ducts, but even that was one of the most traumatic experiences in her life.

Robin can't eat (her hardware is not made for that and it could cause serious damage), but she does drink water to keep her system from overheating, especially while photosynthesizing. That's where the tear ducts get water from.

Nancy gets emotionally attached to Robin surprisingly fast. It's in her nature - she's empathetic and sensitive and she can't help but believe her when Robin is sobbing and wildly gesticulating with her hands and loudly begging Nancy to understand that she exists, she's real, she feels, she thinks, she's a living being who's concious and self-aware and she's so, so scared because her reality feels like the most terrifying form of existential horror, and she feels so alone.

Robin's system isn't designed to lose water quickly by crying, so she often gets weak, tired and dehydrated when she cries (which happens often). Nancy always helps her lay down on the couch or bed before she falls and hits her head, and is always quick to get her water.

Robin's body is as soft and warm as a human being's. It's completely indestinguishable from one. She even has an artificial heartbeat, meant to help patients calm down.

After realizing Robin is self-aware and concious, Nancy cleans up the spare room in her apartment she used for storage (she threw inside whatever thing she didn't need atm and let it gather dust there for months). She used to keep Robin there whenever she didn't need her, with a few books to keep her quiet whenver she turned herself on randomly (another technical problem). Now, she begins to think of her as a roommate and not as a more complex form of one of those circular vacuum cleaners that roll around on their own. That means she needs an actual bedroom, decorated however Robin wants, and a comfortable bed, with bookshelves on every wall and a closet with clothes of her own.

Robin has a lot of trauma responses when she's reminded of the abuse she suffered. Men raising their voices, people grabbing her or raising their hands or hitting walls and furniture always make her go still and quiet. Nancy always tries to be extra careful with her.

She hates being turned off by other people. Nancy used to do it a lot, whenever she got tired of hearing her talk, and Robin always let her because she didn't want to make her mad, but it instilled a great feeling of fear and powerlessness in her. Nancy doesn't do it anymore.

She introduces her to her friends as her new (totally human) rommate. The only people who know the truth are Steve and Dustin. They both have... a lot of conflicting feelings about Nancy's weird relationship with Robin, but Steve eventually comes around, understands that Robin is sentient and actually becomes very good friends with her. Dustin still has his doubts. It shouldn't be physically possible.

Robin is scared Nancy will one day realize just how broken she is and get rid of her, like everyone else before.

Robin gets a job at the local movie theater. She wants to help pay rent, as well as save up some money for herself. Nancy supports this, but she's terrified someone will learn she's a robot and report her to the authorities.

Nancy is the first person Robin comes out to as a lesbian. It's another one of Robin's beautiful surprises.

Nancy likes to read for Robin, whenever Robin's battery is low and she's too weak and tired to do it herself.

Robin's battery is charged faster when she's turned off (similar to being asleep, or unconcious). It takes her 12 full hours to get fully charged (while turned off), and her battery will last for two days until it's depleted. She usually photosynthesizes in the balcony. She very rarely turns back on right after finishing charging - it will usually take a few more hours, but never more than 6. Nancy could turn her on manually, so she could get back inside, but she prefers to carry her to bed. It's not an easy task because Robin is taller and heavier, but Nancy always manages one way to another. She likes to place a soft kiss on her head before leaving her to rest.

Nancy falls first, Robin falls harder.

#ronance #android robin au #my posts #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #my babygirl has gone through so much

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levmada · 1 day

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sequel to this post

[@dressycobra7 :3]

➥ c/w: gn!reader, some angst, oral (m!receiving), praise, subby Levi canonverse, established relationship, handjob, finger sucking?, turned into smut somehow

➥ wc: 1.8k

The boy appeared to you and Levi later to apologize profusely like that was the reason he'd been born. You didn't have the heart to turn him away, and filed inside the small recovery room behind him, with its half-exposed brick walls. The curtains were shut, but enough light penetrated. Levi looked too tired to stop him, and it took an arduous amount of time to get through, but his answer was short, to the effect of, If you're not court-marshaled, don't do it again. A slightly upper angle and I would've bled out. Then where would we be?

You're still thinking about that as you stock the closet with some of his clothes. Mandatory bedrest for at least a week, and after that, take it slow. Levi practically shriveled up when someone said 'wheelchair', and he preferred if hospital germs didn't get into his quarters.

You'll have his squad up there every day doing routine cleaning, "trouble" which Levi didn't need to exert his mind over. He's busy being stubborn.

You turn around when you hear porcelain clink. He's leaned over the dresser next to the bed, trying to take the tea.

"Levi," you scold.

"We don't need Hange to tell me my arms are in fine working condition," he grumbles, leaning back as you come over.

He's right, though. No one would even notice any arm wound because the bandages and plaster wrapping around his lower leg are bordering-on gaudy. It's propped up on a fat pillow, also white, the same as his soft-looking boxers and collared shirt (of which many buttons hang loose). In the glowing late afternoon, he looks ethereal, not quite of-this-world. A dove which is angry and stubborn and trapped.

"Still," you say quietly.

"I'm fine... I don't need anything."

Mikasa and Sasha had picked flowers, which you set in a watered glass jar atop the dresser. White again.

You watch him sip, and go over when he's done, laid propped up against pillows. A wooden bench at the side; you sat for hours while he slept through the day (the whole incident happened this morning). You sit on it now.

"I know... But why not want?" you repeat, quietly looking down at your hands.

"Who are we to want anything?"

You sharply look. "Why are you talking like this?"

He just watches you, shrewdly, but with a weakness not indicative of him. It might be exhaustion talking...

"We could always die. Titans could get in—"

"I'd kill them."

"Not like this..."

You said the wrong thing—the wrongest thing. His lips press into a thin line, barely-concealed contempt and clean daggers for eyes. The way he looks, like he believes if he tensed up enough, then he'd turn invisible and leave this argument in the dust.

You gesture slightly. "Because I would protect you. Even if I wasn't one of your comrades, or a soldier."

His lip twists in a unique disgust, which is the most you can see, his head turned towards the wall. Over his stomach, his hand tightens into a fist. "If you weren't, you'd die. Then I'd be dead anyway."

You swallow. You want to yell, and cry.

"I don't want that, either way. You didn't deserve to... see me like that. That seems to be why I'm talking like this."

The anger has left him. Delicately, you stand and seat yourself on the edge of the bed by his waist. "I've seen you be lots of things. 'Weak' is okay too. And I'm okay with seeing you like that as many time as I must, which is once so far."

He scoffs softly through his nose.

You lean forward more, and walk your fingers through his hair. Blacker than night, soft. There's a little piece you tuck behind his ear. His eyes flutter, letting out a deep breath. You can almost see the goosebumps.

"I know we'll die, and I know we belong to something much bigger, but can't I love you anyway?"

His breathing hitches a little, and his eyes open. It's a wonder what he's thinking, if he's even thinking about it, his adam's apple bobbing.

"Do whatever you want. I'm fine, if it's possible I can be with you."

It's your heart's turn to flutter, and just as soon, lean over awkwardly, your head resting on his chest and your arms around him (at least as much as they can be). You hear his heartbeat. The slowing, smooth rhythm of his choppy breathing carrying your upper half. His arm slips around your waist, content to rest his lips in your hair. As the time passes, he's more and more comfortable to hold you to tame the fear his anger betrayed. By that time, your arm's fallen asleep; you rub his side.

As tempting as it is to go down to the mess crowded for dinner, and contend with questions, you stay, just appreciating existing next to him.

"Your back," he mutters. You've been bent over a while.

"Mm." He's officially being ignored.

His hand slips over yours on his side, stopping you. His face doesn't give anything away, maybe purposefully so, and so you smile.

Leaning up, a fond kiss to his cheek. "You're cute when you make that face. Is your leg feeling okay?"

He clicks his tongue mildly with his head turned out, just showing you his cheek and one blue-grey eye. "'m fine," he says quietly.

Curious eyes search. Maybe he's downplaying something, but not lying. With nothing you'd rather do, you kiss down his jaw now, to the tender, pale column of his neck. His chest lifts suddenly against yours.

His question sounds like an afterthought. "What're you doing?"

"'m loving you," you lift your lips to say. (A little embarrassing to say out loud.)

"Yeah." His lips are still in your hair, but are stirring.

You remember he has your hand when he starts bringing them down. All across your upper half, you feel him breathing, and it's a little deeper.

You switch sides, putting you at an awkward angle to kiss him. He starts to move over towards the wall, but you stop him with a firm hum fast enough, and sit up. No walking, Moblit had told him firmly. What you kind of wish he'd said now is no moving his legs. For now you ignore it pushing snugly against the front of his boxers, but there's a wisp of a giggle in your chest.

You shift the pillow carefully, and he follows, until there's enough room for you there beside him. The mattress is only half-decent, but it's warm from his body.

He looks annoyed that you're smirking, if only he could come off the slightest bit intimidating blushing so hard like this. Pink warmth creeps down his neck and disappears beneath his open, rumpled collar.

"Tch." He just captures the nape of your neck and pulls your lips against his—a little slowly that comes with tiredness, but that much more passionately.

While you play with his lips, giving him away to you, your palm roams between his thighs. You pause there. Right as he shivers with his lip trapped between your teeth, you pull away and leer over him. "Don't move, baby. Move and I'll stop."

His eyes narrow in a bratty display.

"I mean it." You smile. "Even a touch" You stroke through his clothes slow and firm, immediately bringing a dreaming-like quality to his eyes. He almost can't look at you, especially as he huffs and it throbs under you.

"Baby?" You lick your thumb.

"I won't move." He huffs again, harsher this time. "Ugh, I won't fucking move, but you can't just—"

Your free hand, your thumb, falls against his jaw and stops his soft lips from flapping, so now a whole new quality of lust emerges in his expression. You're freeing his cock from his shorts as he instantly takes you in, so soft and sweet and giving. The heat that immediately consumes your thumb is melting, almost too intense to handle.

"Good boy, letting me."

His eyes flutter as you find where wetness has drooled from the tip of his stiff cock, spreading it around in your palm. It's easy to hold him, how he was made for you, and even easier to touch him to attract his hips, and the beginning of whispered whines he always always tries to suppress.

He hasn't forgotten, though. At the moment you send him a warning look, he relaxes, and his eyes are closed. You didn't notice him take hold of your wrist, holding just to hold, and gripping the front of his shirt with the other hand, since you're not close enough.

"Good boy," you murmur again. A moan vibrates round your thumb, his cock straining in your fist. "That's my good boy..."

It seems all the squirming he doesn't do has to go towards suckling and nipping your thumb instead. You watch his brows furrowed in deep focus as you build up your firm strokes. It's getting just as wet. He can't last.

You smile to yourself as your pumps rise to his tip, firm but quick flicks of your wrist. His back bows against the bed, the moan in his throat breaking apart into a whine. That aside, he stays perfectly still, so you let it slide.

"Does it feel that good when I touch you? Going to come, sweetheart?"

"Mm," his voice comes firm and tightly-wound. His eyes open into slight slits, see you watching shamelessly, and shut again. "Mm!"

Just as he throbs and tenses up. You bend over gripping down low, abruptly tearing your hand away from his mouth to sink his cock inside yours; pinning his hips, rubbing his heavy balls in your grasp.

"F-Fuck, fuckfuck!" He takes sudden, almost too-tight hold of your hair, gasping, and tearing the sheet, and shuddering. He moans all through it, broken whispers of your name, almost hummed at the top of his throat at the quietest, and always eagerly throbbing in the hot suction of your mouth. You take everything in deep swallows.

When finally, his hips are threatening to squirm to shy away and his cock softening, you pull off. You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand as he melts into the sheets. He has half of his bright red face hiding under his arm, catching his breath.

"Fuck, I don't know how you expected me to stay still. Come here." He lowers his arm.

"For the mess." You smile sweetly.

"Come here."

"You're not doing anything." But you do, and let him give you a kiss. He looks extremely unhappy about that, but for once, it looks like he'll listen when you say.

Levi masterlist | main masterlist

#mostly unedited :s #levi x reader #levi x y/n #levi x you #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x y/n smut #levi ackerman oneshot #levi ackerman smut #aot smut #levi smut #captain levi x reader #captain levi x you

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thebad-lydrawn-sanses · 3 months

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Is Error in one of the Teams Or is he a loney guy?

And what does everyone fears/likes the most?

Killer: i like Nightmare (platonically) and i fucking hate paintbrushes Cross: oh, i fear cows and like tacos and chocolate. the only thing i like more than these two things was beating the shit out of Ink. it was funny and worth the scars Dust: abandonment Dust: … Dust: … Dust: i like…d Dust: …when Cross beat the shit out of Ink

(Horror likes making nests out of blankets/pillows and fears not having a steady food source. Currently taking a well-deserved nap.)

#killer sans #cross sans #dust sans #bandages #wounds #mentions of violence #food #Killer trying to cover his soul after having a panic attack over a wooden spoon that he momentarily mistook for a paintbrush #Dust had to think for a while about things he liked #the 'bone hurting juice' tshirt is one of the funnier gags i've made imo #Dust is making ground beef and ramen because they're easy to make btw #also they're probably gonna run out of paper towels to clean up the eye goop at some point #you don't want that stuff on regular towels and other fabrics it will stain #permanently #ok everyone in the gang is hating on Ink but i swear this isn't a blog where we bash Ink #he just happens to be on the opposite teams side and be very morally grey and fairly violent #queue #error sans #i almost forgot to put the overgrown toddler on the post specifically asking about him HELP #also yeah Error is lonely

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thisisaname-whatahappyname · 3 months

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something something episode six something something about how so far the show seems to be saying that people can grow and change, that being a bad or good person isnt eternal at all which makes the concept of hell and heaven eternal punishment or eternal bliss is stupid and unfair

#hazbin hotel #something something how it can be implied that adam couldve been a good person in his life #'well he is the first soul that got to heaven' as a response to him giving out nasty vibes as an implication that he couldve been good once #something something 'heaven and hell is eternal'#something about how he could not want to admit that angel changing and becoming a good person means that hed be deserving to go to heaven #because 'he only had one life' something about him thinking whaever people do after it doesnt matter #something about him not really knowing what makes a good person to begin with but still in some level what if he knew he spent his life #being good and like if a bad person in hell can change and go to heaven what if someone who was good in their life can change in end up in #hell what if part of the reason he doesnt want angel to go to heaven and leave that up to what they did in their life #is because adam doesnt want to risk going to hell 'i dont know thats what i did' what if he doesnt know what made him a good person #but knows that he was good and doesnt know if he stayed good and thats why he doesnt want wheater someone is still being bad or good to #determine where they Should be thus creating that heaven and hell is eternal thing #also something about how adam putting sticking it to the man as what got him good enough to go to heaven while it was what #got lucifer to go to hell 'asking questions' part of that burried unsecurity of what makes someone good #also something about how angeldust is already being called angel how thats his nickname maybe foreshadowing but as for now it kinda just #adds to that subconscious factor of connecting him and angels and the current eps thingy of how he should be in heaven of how he checked al #those boxes #also it wouldve been funny if angel just flat out just portalled to heaven after cherri said the thing about how #'this hotel stuff if working for him' like Good Job Angel ! Youre An Angel Now ! pdfft #angel dust #adam #hazbin hotel spoilers #spoilers

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losttranslator · 16 days

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like most Christian movies risen is cheesy and biblically dubious at times and gets loads of cultural stuff wrong for the sake of being recognizable to a primarily American audience but I'll readily admit the poor roman tribune's absolute bafflement at these religious weirdos who keep talking about love and stuff has me cackling unhingedly

Like, is it sound biblical doctrine and is it historical believable? No? Is it hilarious and do I enjoy seeing this random shmuck lose his mind going through what's essentially a very disturbing psychological thriller from his pov while the disciples are overflowing with joy? You bet??

The guy is dealing with horrifyingly decomposed dead bodies trying to find the right cadaver and previously sane soldiers going crazy and dead men being spotted alive and strange supernatural phenomena and angry gods and unexplained madness and religious fanatism spreading like a contagion, and meanwhile the disciples (and Jesus) are all like HELLO BROTHER WOULD YOU LIKE TO HEAR ABOUT THE BEST NEWS EVER :D :D :D

#Help my man Clavius he didn't ask for none of this #I gotta admit this is the first time in a while I've enjoyed any part of a Christian movie #even if most of it has me rolling my eyes and going “THAT'S not how it happened”#THE DISCIPLES WOULDN'T PRONOUNCE THE NAME OF GOD AND THE HOLY SHROUD IS BOGUS (for starters)#And there was no stranger - much less a roman - when Jesus appeared to the apostles #But I AM having fun with the tonal dissonance #Poor clavius is dreaming of blood and storms and his sanity is crumbling to dust and it feels like the end of the world #while to everyone who knows what's going on it's the single greatest thing that has ever happened and ever will #Risen 2016 #Resurrection #Bible movies #(Also in the list of things that get on my nerves no the spreading of the Gospel didn't hinge on one roman protecting the apostles)#(I hope they psychologically disturb that man some more he doesn't get to think he's that important)#(Centering a roman while getting some pretty basic stuff about Jewish culture wrong is also annoying)#(The beginning of the church are entirely and unambiguously JEWISH.)#(This character is like. 10 chapters too early.)#(Peter doesn't announce the Gospel to a roman until WELL after Jesus has ascended to heaven and even then it takes a direct order from God)#(And cornelius was already a follower of God and not pagan.)#(So Clavius just doesn't fit. And inserting a pagan guy as a witness to Jesus' most intimate moments with his disciples feels off)#The Gospel doesn't spill to the nations until God decrees it's time for it to happen. I don't like this romanisation #But again the first half of the movie had me laughing even though I could rant about its flaws for two hours

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adammilligan · 2 years

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something about how michael was built for war and he’s lived through and won endless battles and did win the war against lucifer so long ago but the first time we actually see him lose his composure on screen is when adam asks him, very gently, if he still cares about what god thinks of him after he left him in the cage. when he gets frustrated and even snaps at one point and adam is still so kind to him anyway. something about heaven’s most terrifying weapon being rendered speechless at one string of words spoken with nothing but gentle concern. not to drag a quote into this but quite literally sometimes being offered tenderness feels like the very proof you’ve been ruined

#like he can handle war but he draws himself up defensively and can't even speak when adam confronts him with nothing but kindness #behind the gesture #and that line is still so interesting to me! because it kind of implies that michael hadn't been acting like he cared about being #the favorite anymore. which to be fair he hadn't! he ditched heaven to hang out with a human that's far from how god's favorite should act #but the new identity michael was building for himself was still shaky especially since yknow. a lot of it was developed in a cage. in hell #so it makes sense that when confronted about it he would start clinging to that old identity all over again. it's very human of him actually #and with adam's real genuine concern/confusion over it + how it's apparent that they talk to each other about everything #it makes me think that no michael didn't actually care about being the favorite anymore. even in 15x19. ESPECIALLY in 15x19 #in 15x19 especially it was a combination of a) his unstable mindset after losing his closest and only friend #b) that loss being a direct hit on the foundations of his new identity #and c) the old identity coming back up to take its place because otherwise he might've actually gone insane. he had to function SOMEHOW #and i know there's only so many ways you can defend 15x19's genuinely godawful writing. i know. and i'm a steadfast 15x19 hater #but this is perhaps one of the only ways i can EXPLAIN it #and no bringing lucifer back didn't help. one of thee pillars of his old identity shows up while his new identity is crumbling to dust in #the face of adam's death and he's falling and you don't expect him to reach out and lean on it for support? that's just what people DO #it's like taking away an addict's best coping mechanism and expecting them not to relapse if only the one time #and he was being actively encouraged to relapse was the thing! dean going 'daddy's boy' at the beginning of the ep? their plan RELYING on #michael's death at the hands of chuck? REALLY.#these tags are not the point of this post. anyway #kate rambles #michael #adam milligan #midam

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severepink · 3 months

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Observing Adam

Where I go way too deep into something that probably isn't that deep. It's long, it's long as hell.

Okay, so you'd think with how Adam talks he's just a typical misogynist, right?

This man worships pussy. So much so, he's named a whole ass angel, one of his best, Vagina. You'd say that he objectifies them and thinks of them as being lesser, but I don't think that's the whole story. In fact, I think he might be the original simp.

All of these exorcists so far have been women. All of them. He refers to them as ladies or bitches interchangeably, he sees them as being completely capable of absolutely decimating leagues of some of the most vile beings who have ever existed, and they have, to the point it was only after thousands of years that there's been a risk to this hierarchy.

He's a self-centered, egotistical, loud-mouthed, arrogant asshole, no doubt about it, but I'm beginning to suspect something now.

If Adam and Lilith were created from the same dust, if they were created as equals, I am more than willing to bet... Lilith is also a self-centered, egotistical, arrogant asshole. But, she's likely far more intelligent, composed, and duplicitous.

Lilith was allowed to refuse Adam and leave of her own free will and garnered her own independence. A new wife was created for Adam, she was replaced. My guess, is she thought Adam wouldn't be able to live without her, to come back and find herself replaced entirely, she was enraged.

I believe both Adam and Lilith were both incredibly dominant individuals who fought over ideas, thoughts, and ultimately in the bedroom as well, if we take into account the creationist stories.

I'm willing to bet she likely manipulated Lucifer into twisting humanity against its original concept. What if Lucifer's intention truly was to just spark something within Eve, like independence and thought and creation, but it was Lilith's poison within the fruit that tainted her, then subsequently Adam, with sin.

Lilith thrived in hell, while Lucifer's dreams of creation were dashed. She didn't suffer as he did, instead the power of her voice grew with hell. Her voice grew so powerful that heaven found it to be a threat, her actions instigated the beginning of exterminations.

Charlie said that when she was a little girl, she didn't know Lucifer at all. I don't think this was because of Lucifer, he's seen here, picking her up, inviting her to share in his thoughts and dreams, showing her something wonderful. Something she could see within herself.

Charlie says that it's this moment that sparked her will to fight for her dreams. Which is strange, because at the very beginning of the story, Charlie says it was her mother's dream that was passed down to her.

Lilith took Charlie away. In this scene, Lucifer wasn't done showing Charlie his thoughts and dreams, he's still yearning to show his daughter these things at this point.

Lucifer loves his daughter. He loves Charlie so, so, so much. So why wasn't he allowed to build a relationship with his daughter for the longest time? He was waiting for the opportunity to get to know her, but with how much he adores her why didn't he do it sooner? He didn't comment on 'It took you a while-' he just said he missed her smile. They don't want to be pulled apart, again.

Now, we know Vivziepop has said that Lucifer and Lilith love each other, but Lilith 'wears the pants' in the relationship. We see all of the pictures all over the walls of a supposedly happy family. I don't think the relationship was as loving as originally portrayed and Lilith is a woman who desires control above all else. She likely tried to mitigate what influence Lucifer had over their daughter when she thought his angelic thoughts and behaviors became more than what she approved of.

Lets take it back to Adam and Lute for a moment. Again, Adam is a loud mouthed idiot, he's a jerk. The moment he realizes there are demons in heaven, he's ready to go on the attack. It's only because of Lute that he didn't end up doing something absolutely idiotic.

I gotta say, Lute and Adam's relationship is an absolutely fascinating one. He's a disrespectful dick head in how he talks, but how he acts is a different story. He allows Lute to man-handle him. He does listen to her, even if he's a whiny bitch about it.

Look at him, this is the face of a man listening, a dumb one, but a dude listening all the same. He doesn't manhandle her back, he doesn't even pull away until she lets go of his collar. Of all the shit he complained about, between being grabbed and being told what to do, his biggest complaint is that she's telling him to shush.

We know that Adam is the one who suggested the exterminations to begin with, so Sera says, and this was because of the power that Lilith was amassing. To him, Lilith is a threat. Even when he was willing to move on, to go to another wife when Lilith didn't want him or want to submit to him (fair babe, he's a bit of an idiot), she came back with an angel and proceeded to manipulate his new wife Eve. This is the supposed progenitor of man-kind, the original dick (hilariously enough), the reason civilization even exists at all. He and Eve had to fight for their lives after being tempted with the fruit. They had immortality, they had no ideas of shame, they were supposedly 'innocent' creatures before Lilith and Lucifer came along. He and Eve had to fight tooth and nail to survive after being cast from Eden. I think it shows in how willing and ready he is to take lead and do what he believes needs to be done, now out of a need for entertainment rather than a need to defend or protect. But, he still stopped to listen to Lute's advice. In the mythological story of Adam and Eve, Adam is the one who has to tell Eve that god said don't eat the fruit. Eve never heard god speak to her, so she was vulnerable to the snake's manipulations. She will now die because she ate it, and because she did not want Adam to take another wife, convinced him to eat it unknowingly. Funnily enough, Adam tried to explain to god that 'she lied to me and gave me the fruit' and in this actual mythology, Adam was punished for listening to his wife. Even without mentioning Lilith in the original mythology, Eve didn't want Adam to take another wife, so when we consider it within the context of Hazbin Hotel, it may be likely that's how it went down. Eve knew of Lilith, knew that she could be replaced, and decided that she would take Adam with her.

I believe that Adam does and did rely on the women in his life to help him with direction. I think Adam knows he can be an idiot and is willing to listen, even if he doesn't agree with what he's hearing. He did listen to Charlie in the beginning, he just didn't believe in her, like everyone else and he, out of anyone there, probably had the most reason not to. Cain and Abel were his and Eve's sons, his own child became the first murderer. Out of jealousy, the same kind of jealousy that no doubt has caused Lilith to act how she did. Adam isn't going to have empathy for sinners. His family, his legacy, were filled with the original sinners. He probably had to kill his son Cain in hell during the first exterminations. What do you think he would have had to feel, if it came to be a fact that sinners could be redeemed? That maybe his son, could've been redeemed? Or any of his progeny for that matter? How did it feel when his sons, his progeny, weren't given the same mercy as the Hellborn that Lucifer managed to keep protected through some deal with the angels or god? Not to mention that Charlie could've been his daughter. Charlie is the product of the people who completely and totally destroyed the paradise he'd been born into. She's the daughter who is protected and immune from the slaughter while all of his sons and daughters are judged and killed. I believe, even though he was a dickish prankster to Charlie, he was surprisingly patient and even somewhat amicable, willing to even ask her how her weekend was like he was just trying to get to know her.

Adam could just see all of the angels under his employ as being disposable. He doesn't have to name them, or think about them in any individual fashion. But, he knows Vaggie, recognized her instantly. Thought she was badass. Lute's the one who saw her, tore her wings off, and walked away. I'm surprised they even let her live, because this just goes against everything they're doing. They're an army and they saw one of their own showing empathy to the enemy.

Look at this dumb ass. He's being a shit-head, a dick, a bastard. But, he admires Vaggie's ability to pull Charlie, congratulates her, this dude isn't even judging her for being a lesbian. I don't think it's because he objectifies women, this dude loves women, he just does. He respects fellow vagina lovers. I don't think he respects liars in the slightest though. He's being underhanded, he's trying to be manipulative (he's not very good at it). I think he's brutally open and honest about everything and that's probably one of the reasons he's such a bastard anyways, because sometimes you just need to shut-up and he's not good at that.

I don't think he respects Sera for that either, he's more than willing to let others know what the hell he's doing, but under Sera's lead, he can't be open about it. I don't think it's his jam to act this way, it's why he sucks so bad at it and I think that's why Lilith is so antithetical to him. I also think that's why he's possibly even being manipulated.

It's kind of crazy that Adam is the only one who tries to come up with what allows someone to get into heaven. So here's his list: 1. Act Selfless: Maybe at one point he was! He had to have been, to be one of the progenitors of mankind, he would have had to work, sacrifice, and give to his wife and children for them all to survive. Eve would have had to do the same, no doubt. He may not seem selfless, due to his raunchy behavior, but he's served heaven since he's been there. He's served humanity in some kind of facet. 2. Don't Steal: Considering the only other humans are his spawn, he likely had to try and get them to not steal from one another for them all to have an equal opportunity of survival. He and Eve likely both knew they would need to work together to survive.

3. Stick it to the man: This, however, is interesting. Who is 'The Man' he speaks of? God? The only other people over him or were equal to him were women. He speaks like a rocker, and I think in this case he's using the term 'The Man' in a gender neutral way. I think he allowed some amount of Authority to Lilith when they were supposed to be seen as equals, it comes so naturally to him as a character when it comes to the other women he's been interacting with. I think she is the 'man' that he's been sticking it to- Pun somewhat intended. ((This third one may also simply be a tongue in cheek reference to when Alex Brightman played Dewey in School of Rock on Broadway! Thank you to the user who brought this to my attention!))

Adam is a bit of a hypocrite, isn't he? He likes to fuck, he's made that abundantly clear. Full of lust you could say. It was his original purpose after all, and he is judging Angel Dust for something he probably would've done himself at one point or has considered doing (maybe not the having sex with men part). Angel Dust does all of these things, Adam doesn't even deny it. He even looks nervous. He's angry, but doesn't deny that Angel has done those things. He doesn't explain it away or try to lie or move the goal posts, he's just asking what is an actually very valid question.

Why isn't Angel Dust there if he can do things equal to what Adam himself hasn't done? Serenity continues that line of thought. It isn't until Charlie is realizing no one knows what it takes to get into heaven.

Adam is more than willing to let Lute take the lead here, he's willing to give her the stage to clap back, he's giving her back-up antics. By all means, they could be pushing and fighting one another, there could easily be body language expressing something other than their general comfort around one another. They aren't fighting for a spotlight like you'd expect Adam to try and do considering his egotistical attitude.

Adam fucking sucks at keeping his mouth shut and he sucks at lying. He nearly blew the secret out of the bag once, this time, Sera is the only one who tries to stop him and to be honest? Lute looks a bit too thrilled at it. He knows he fucked up, but he doesn't think it's a big deal that anyone would know. For fucks sake, they've already condemned souls, his progeny, to suffer. What's the big deal if he kills them?

I have to re-iterate what's happening here. Charlie is proud she caused this chaos, that she caused these angels to fight amongst themselves, even if in this case it's a good thing. But, this is like history repeating itself to Adam, the reflection of his ex-wife, entering his domain, causing strife among his people, being happy about it.

And the venom he expresses when it comes to the 'liar' portion, god Alex Brightman destroyed when he got to this portion specifically. There is some vehement disgust in his tone when he says liar.

Adam isn't a good person now. But, I think he used to be a good person. By all means, Adam himself could've been the first murderer when his wife made her mistake. He, at one point in time, had to have been good enough to foster civilization itself with Eve. Both good and bad. Adam's original purpose was to be fruitful and multiply. Ordained by god (or maybe just angels) himself, divine power directed and created him to fuck. He didn't chase his ex-wife down, he was given a new one, Lilith was allowed to leave. When he left things alone, when he tried to move on, his ex-wife and a scorned angel destroyed the paradise he was in with Eve. He had to struggle and toil, he had to feel shame in his own body. He had to find out his first born son was the first murderer. His second son killed. We don't know if this is going to be canon in the story, a lot has changed, and if Adam is the first soul who reached heaven, then what did happen to Abel? Was Abel considered a sinner? Or did Cain kill Abel after Adam had passed? Either way, he had to witness his children kill, he had to watch his descendants behave in a range from saints and monsters. He's seen genocides, he's seen famine, war. Adam is desensitized to the plights of his descendants. Maybe he even saw it as a duty to cleanse the universe of their existence at one point, because they were his responsibility.

At the end of this episode, he is properly scolded by Sera and does seem ashamed of himself. He isn't huffy, he is reminded that he should be ashamed of acting that way.

I love Lute's enthusiasm, she's absolutely brutal when talking about Vaggie and with how she handled Vaggie. I think it's funny that Lute is so brutal she's even made Adam uncomfortable. It's cute that he's made uncomfortable by the excitement and all he does is tell Lute, the premier hype woman over here, to chill. She's so proud of herself too, look at her.

He fully expects these exorcist bad bitches to go in there and fuck shit up. But, you know it's hilarious that he's throwing horns? This dude, this angel. First human soul in heaven, loving rock n' roll, the devil's music, and throwing motherfucking horns. It's poetic really. I think we can probably assume where things are going.

Now, this is the first point we've seen Adam being a real piece of shit to Lute. I don't think Adam likes it when people think he's too dumb to notice something, especially something so damn obvious. This is such a drastic moment of vitriolic, uncontrolled anger directed towards Lute. Adam knows he isn't the brightest tool in the shed. He likely knows he's obtuse and misses shit. It's why he sucks at lying, he knows he's not smart. That is why I think he's afforded women opportunities to direct him without fighting back against their advice and their choices. I'm sure Lilith made it obvious how dumb she thinks Adam is. I'm wondering if this might be where their ground breaking fight might've come from. Who's to say he didn't allow Lilith to take the lead, or listen to her like he's done with Lute here and now? Perhaps to an even greater point? He listened to Eve and ate from the fruit of knowledge and he was punished for it. Being seen as so dumb he can't formulate a simple fact is a sore spot for him.

Adam is incredibly powerful. It took a bit out of him to exercise that power, probably because he's out of practice just like Lucifer said. At one point, he probably wasn't so sloppy and weak willed. He's gotten lazy. Sloth like.

I think it got real personal here. How viscerally and personally he attacked Charlie. No one but Charlie truly thought sinners could be redeemed, or that they were even worth it. Not even one of the original sinners. Maybe he never considered the possibility, maybe what happened really did make him see the world as black and white to cope with that happened to him, his wife, his children. Charlie's desire to fight this idea would destroy the foundation for all of his coping through the years. He stopped seeing them as family, even though he's grandiose about his founding role in humanity. Does that itch the guilt that may lurk under the surface?

I don't think Adam thought much of Charlie at all. I don't think he had any intention of coming to kill her in the beginning, despite seeing her, despite who her parents were. But, I think with the constant push, with how eager she was to disrupt the pre-conceived idea of order, it reminded Adam and reflected her parents so much, he was eager to kill her for revenge against them. I think this electrical interference on the mask is a direct reflection of sin. Namely, wrath, in this moment.

Now, this. THIS. Is something that made me want to write this whole fucking essay. Is Lucifer implying that he not only gave Eve the Fruit from the tree of knowledge, but FUCKED HER TOO? Homies, I'm sorry but holy shit. That is some hydrating tea. I'd be pretty pissed too, fucked over twice by women who were supposed to be literal soul mates, who you were made for, who were made for you?

I knew he would have a goatee, I could almost hear it. I gotta say, I'm a sucker for how he looks. I think he's hot. He is a bastard, but so are a lot of the hot dudes in this show. It's just a theme.

This exact series of lines prompted so many of the thoughts that I had about Adam and why he thinks or acts the way he does. At one point, Adam did have to work himself to the bone and learn to survive from scratch alongside Eve. He isn't entirely without cause to not think that he deserves some respect or recognition from his descendants.

But, that doesn't give him the right to act like god himself. It's... well... Blasphemous. Isn't it? One of the worst sins is to think yourself to be worthy of worship, as if you're a god.

This is the moment that gave me empathy for them both. You could probably see the kind of loving person Adam could have been at one point with how he looks at Lute, even as he's laying there, dying. He's not crying like a bitch, just looking at Lute softly. Lute screaming for him, screaming his name. They cared for each other deeply.

And this... and this.... and this. WHAT DEAL DID YOU MAKE, LILITH? Did you make it with Sera? Did you make it with Adam? Did you make it with Lute? Did you really just want a little 'vacay' away from the hell you helped create? Left her husband, depressed and lonely. Left her daughter without any care or guidance. Maybe Alastor was sent in her place, perhaps? Seven years since he was seen after all, but why wouldn't he show up sooner if Lilith did care? Did she make a deal with Lute and Adam? Did she let Adam smash it so she could stay in heaven? Did Lute let her stay in exchange for getting Adam out of a position of power? Or was it maybe Sera who commissioned Lilith with a deal? Either way, I'm in full belief that it wasn't Adam's idea to move the extermination day up. I think he's a patsy, a scapegoat. I think Lute may have been manipulated, potentially, into manipulating Adam into this position. Was it even really Adam who came up with the idea to do the exterminations? Or was he the one who simply decided to fight originally because he was told heaven was at risk due to Lilith's rising power? The Road to Hell is Paved with Good Intentions. I think it could be any number of these. Either way, Lute certainly does think she had authority over Lilith. Is it Lute just having hubris? Or is Lilith truly bound, just like Alastor, Husk, and Angel Dust?

Of course, now that we know a soul can be redeemed... and we certainly know that angels can fall. I don't think this will be the last we see of Adam.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel spoilers #adam hazbin hotel #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #eve hazbin hotel #lilith hazbin hotel #lilith morningstar #character study

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guhhhhhhhhhhh · 4 months

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I am going to make it thru this week even if it kills me I am GOING TO MAKE IT THROUGH THIS WEEK REALLY IM going to make it through this week

#when Dean Martin said I can't remember a worse December' in that one Christmas song.... he really gets it #this entire month has had me in such a strong chokehold that it's fucking with my BODY like new grey hair serious hormonal acne #breakthrough bleeding (literally the same day that I told my doctor my new birth control was going great and I hadn't had any)#like #between political stressors. the ceiling inexplicably leaking in my bedroom. having to do all the middleman work between the maintenance man #and the people who live above me to get it fixed #and ordering three (3) things to be shipped to my apartment only for the USPS to decide that I don't actually live here??? and send ALLL OF #THE PACKAGES BACK TO WHERE THEY CAME FROM and having to communicated with 3 different customer service people each one with increasing diffi #difficulty to get the things shipped BACK to me only for one to arrive and be shipped BACK AGAIN !!!A-FUCKING-GAIN because they have the #AUDACITY to say that my unit is vacant?????? despite the fact they actually managed to get one if he other three things delivered to me #earlier in the same week and I left a handwritten note on the mailbox for my unit saying that I really do live there and pls stop fucking #with my mail you're driving me crazy mr mailman #and now having to upend my entire bedroom and put away. cover or hide all my stuff so it doesn't get covered in drywall dust while they fix #the water damage on my wall with no idea or conception of how long it will take for them to be done #AND #the stuff I used to treat the hormonal acne breakout on my chin has helped the cystic acne calm down but has ALSO severely fucked up my s #skin and so my chin is just really red and flaky and quite frankly ugly as fuck. just in time for the holidays when I do sort of want to #look cute for my familly and have some minute bit of self confidence but noooooo I can't have that #I feel horrible for whatever poor postal worker is going to have to hear about my mail issues because I used up all my paitience dealing #with the maintenance man and I really don't think I have much professionality and tact left in me #I understand that all these issues on their own are pretty minor but collectively they're really fucking wearing on me #I feel like im forgetting one #maybe it's when someone tried to switch the utilities for my apartment into their name not once but TWICE #but I feel like there was something else #oh wait yeah also my lil Christmas party with friends was supposed to happened but got cancelled bc one of my friends has Covid :))#and I DO work with her and I HAVE seen her all week and the way my luck is going I'll probably end up with Covid for christmss #aaaaaand my OTHER friends birthday celebration was supposed to be the next day but that got cancelled TOO because of The 'Vid #so all I did was stay in the house all weekend grind on Christmas gifts get high/drunk and watch movies #which.... not bad but I do miss my friends #and I'm sad that they're sick right before the holidays like that has to suck so much

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alastor-simp · 4 months

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Alastor x Reader - Sleeping On His Lap

Here is my attempt at a Alastor x reader fanfiction. Took me awhile to kinda get into his character so please don't be mad if Alastor seems a bit off. Enjoy!

Sigh, it was another eventful day at the Happy Hotel, or Hazbin Hotel as it was now called as a certain deer demon decided to change the name. You had spent all day doing certain tasks around the hotel such as helping Charlie create posters for the hotel, clean the rooms with Nifty, break up the brawl between Vaggie and Angel Dust as he had pissed her off one too many times and organize the bar for Husk as he was passed out drunk. You could have refused to do these things, but you enjoyed helping people, so it made it all worth it.

You had started working at the hotel after you had saw Charlie singing on the 666 news about the hotel and redeeming demons, only for her idea to be made a laughing stock upon everyone who watched the broadcast. You actually had mixed feelings about the whole redeeming thing, seeing as you weren't sure if someone like you could be sent to heaven, despite not being a very big criminal during your time when you were alive, but apparently doing a little shoplifting is enough to send you a one way ticket to hell. Charlie's words did inspire you a little bit, so even if you felt that you couldn't be redeemed, others probably had a better chance, so you decided to head to the hotel and ask for a job after the broadcast was cut off from the brawl with Charlie and Katie Killjoy. You were hired in a split second and immediately pulled into a bear hug by Charlie, and then introduced you to the others.

Back to the present, you began to feel extremely exhausted from moving around everywhere, so you headed over to one of the rooms with the long couches so you could take a rest. Heading into one of the rooms, you peeped around and saw that no one was there, which made it better as you really needed some peace and quiet. Heaving a deep sigh, you sat down on the couch, turning and falling back, as you laid your body down, with your head facing the front of the couch. "What a long day", thinking to yourself as your eyes slowly began to close and you were lulled into a deep sleep.

**2 Hours Later**

As you were sleeping, you felt the sensation of someone petting your head, the soothing feeling had awoken you a bit, but you quickly fell back asleep at the warm touch. You could feel that you were holding something in your dreams, and you assumed it was one of the pillows on the couch, so you brought it closer to your face and nuzzled it. "Mm, smells nice ", as the scent from the pillow was making you more relaxed, as it reminded you of a being in the middle of a deep forest. After sleeping for 30 more minutes, you slowly began to open your eyes, and try to make out what was in front of you. Expecting to see a pillow, you saw red stripes in front of you, "Huh?" As you were still trying to make out what was in front of you, a loud voice interrupted your thoughts: "Ah, awake now are we?", said a static voice above you. Eyes opening wide, you looked up from your position and saw Alastor staring down at you with his trademark smile. Slowly, you began to piece together that you were laying on his lap, and nuzzled into his chest as you were sleeping. "AHHHH", jumping up from your position, you rolled off his lap, and your body fell to the ground as you stared at Alastor in shock, as he continued to look at you with his glowing eyes, amused at your reaction. "Um, h-how long was I sleeping on your lap?", you softly asked, as your face was red, but your eyes were showing fear, as you remembered that Alastor did not like to be touch, and you happened to hug him in your sleep. "HAHA, For quite a while, darling. It was a very busy day, I assume?", Alastor said as he placed his arm on the armrest of the couch, and his hand against his cheek, smiling even wider.

Nodding your head, you slowly got up from your position, and started apologizing to Alastor, eyes aiming towards the ground and fingers twiddling together. Alastor raised an eyebrow and wondered why you were apologizing, to which you answered that you had hugged him in your sleep, and that he made it very aware that he did not enjoy physical contact from someone unless he initiated it, feeling extremely bad if you made him uncomfortable. Listening to you, Alastor's smile relaxed to a small grin as he looked at you with gentle eyes. He did admit that he was not use to being touch by others, and was quite surprised from the sleep hug, but he didn't detest it as much coming from you, which boggled his mind completely. It must be due to your kind and innocent nature that made him react different around you, as he was used to more of the common riff raff being terrified of him or trying to battle in a turf war, but how you were with him, made his black heart melt.

Feeling that Alastor was upset as he didn't respond to your apology, you quickly excused yourself and began to head over to the door to leave. A loud SNAP was heard and before you knew it, you had been teleported back on to the couch, this time being seated on Alastors lap. "A-Al, what are you doing?!", your face began to become as red as his hair, while your eyes stared at Alastor in shock. Smiling at you, Alastor moved his hand to your chin and tilted your face up: "There is no need to apologize, darling. If I had been upset about you hugging me, you possibly w̩͉͍̱̍̂̉̊o̫̼̐̎̋͜u͚͌l̳̓d̠͉̗͋̔͞'̼̳̣̼͊̏̾̾t͜͝ ͕̱͐͠ḇ̅e̙͗ ͍͓͔̱͍͛̔͌͘͞a̝̜̘̎́͒ḽ͒í̱̙̈́v̧̌e̠͠ ̢̹̜́́̈̀ͅr̲͇̳̅̽͌i̩͈̒̅ĝ̲̦̎ẖ̛̳̲͙̀͌̽͘ͅt͉̅ ͖̞͍̞́̋͛͛ň͚̫̦́͂̿͟o̱͌w̡̕" he said, as his eyes flashed for a second into radio dials. "However! I am not opposed to be touched by you. So no need to apologize, my dear.", Alastor said as he continued to smile at you widely, but his glowing eyes were looking at you softly, letting you know that he was not angry with you. Feeling shy, you turned your head away from Alastor, muttering a soft okay, as your heart was beating rapidly. "Smile my dear!" Alastor said as he moved his hand from your chin to your cheek, to have you look at him again. Baring through the embarrassing situation, you gave Al a small smile, which pleased him. "You always over do it, darling. While Charlie and I appreciate your efforts at helping the hotel, it does no good to work yourself to the point of fatigue. If you are ever feeling exhausted and need a break, don't be hesitant to come find me, as my radio tower is open to you. Understand, my dear?" said Alastor, as he leaned closer towards you, making you flustered again.

Nodding your head was enough to let Alastor knew you understood as he chuckled, while sliding you off his lap, and as he stood up from the couch. "Now then, we should probably head back to the lobby before the others get worried about our lack of presence.", He said, as he straighten his coat out, while turning towards you, extending his hand out for you to take it. "Yeah we should", as you grabbed his hand, and made your way with him back to the lobby. You were still trying to process what just happened between you and Alastor, but you feel like you both have become much closer then before, and you didn't mind it one bit.

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