#I thought about including Cherri Bomb but

[blue-rose-soul]

For your hazbin hotel au: what are the hotels residents when they learn about alastor 's father?

Angel Dust: First thing he does is apologize to Lucifer for the joke. Next thing he does is burst out laughing because of course he is! Of fucking course! Out of everyone he's one of the least affected by it. He teases Alastor a bit, but ultimately doesn't act like too much has changed. He reassures Charlie that most families do have some messy, complicated drama and as far as fucked up family situations go, hers is relatively tame. He then offers her 'tips' on being an older sibling for the sole purpose of bothering Alastor more. He will be made to regret this.

Husk: "Daddy issues. It's always fucking daddy issues." Like Angel Dust, he doesn't care too much, although he has a quiet chuckle over the fact that Alastor's got some shit going on under the surface that... humanizes him. Just a bit. Unfortunately for Husk, his role as the 'wise old bartender' means he's often got Lucifer lamenting to him about how guilty he feels about the whole thing, about how it's way way way too late for him to be a father to Alastor, how he doesn't know how to connect to his adult son, how he doesn't know how he'll be able to tell Lilith, etc. Husk offers what advice he can, as the singular person in the group who knows Alastor best and can offer a sane perspective.

Niffty: She has several fanfics she needs to burn. Immediately.

Vaggie: She tries to be normal about it, but Vaggie has a harder time with that than she'd expect. Which is fair given the cheesy, pompous, talk show shit-lord may very well be her brother-in-law someday. She does make something of an effort to reassure Alastor in a more calm and collected way than Charlie, but he just brushes her off with some barbed words that send her storming off in a huff, so she doesn't try that again. For the most part though, her concern is Charlie's emotional state. The closest Vaggie's ever had to a family is Adam and the exterminators so she doesn't quite know what her girlfriend is going through, but just saying that is enough to get Charlie to laugh and say, "Yeah, I guess it could be worse."

#ask #anonymous #Hazbin Hotel #the Devil's Bastard AU #Angel Dust #Husk (Hazbin Hotel) #Niffty #Vaggie #I thought about including Cherri Bomb but #A) I dunno if she's sticking with the hotel just yet #and B) she's new enough to the group I don't think she'd be too rocked by a sudden change in the dynamic. #EVERYONE in the group aside from Angel is new to her so her reaction would probably just be 'okay'

[jeonsbabygirlsworld]

SUMMARY : In which you let your husband take your virginity on your wedding night.

PAIRINGS: Dilf Taehyung x virgin reader

WORD COUNT :2K

SMUT WARNINGS: Unprotected sex (off course) ,cum eating, oral f. Eating out over panties, fingering, squirting, mention of blood (her cherry popped)! Titty sucking, aftercare ladies <3

A/N: A little something as I’ve reached 1k heheh thank you so much lovelies and i hope you liked this one and thank you my love 💖 @jj-one who helped me with this one and also @kingofbodyrolls who made this sexy banner💖

The beach was filled with fragrant blooms, an array of white and pink tulips adorned the set up, a gentle breeze softly tickles the groom's hair and he smiles looking at you walking hand in hand with your father holding a small bouquet of lilies.

Your wedding veil cascades down your back, complementing the silk lace and pearls embroiled on the dress, making you feel like a fairy princess. Nervously walking down the aisle with your father you blush the moment you see your husband, soft music and doting cheers follows in the background the moment you took each step.

Soon reaching upon you face the love of your life Kim Taehyung, your dad places your hand on your husband’s and some tears brim his eyes, asking him to always protect you and keep you happy forever. He chuckling upon his request, promising to keep you happy for the rest of his life while kissing the back of your palm and whispers "you look so beautiful my love." You visibly chuckle and mutter him a small "thanks, you look handsome as well".

You never thought you would end up with your casual fling that you met from an app, remembering it was one of your friends who had signed you up on the app after you broke up with your toxic ex. On the other side, Taehyung's friend, Jungkook, had signed him up when divorced his wife, thinking it was a good idea to get out of the grief and have some fun.

Your interests he was afraid if he came clean about his son you would leave.

He was sure he had fallen in love with you over the past year from just chatting and calling each other daily. It made him feel like he was a young man again and not a 38-year-old man who had a kid who would depend on for a few more years.

Taehyung was also afraid of the 16-year-old age gap, thinking it was too soon for you to commit to a lifelong relationship which included a child.

He had enough of it when he finally decided to take you on a date and coming clean about it. He came fully prepared to tell you about his son and break this situation you were in, he liked (read: Loves) you, but he didn't want you to live with the pressure of living with a child as you were young, and you had so much to experience.

In the cozy coffee shop, soft jazz played in the background while you nervously fidget on the chair, summing up the courage to tell him that you had started liking him and can see a future together. The man in front of you gave a crooked smile, continuing to surf through the menu.

"What will you have Y/n?" Taehyung asks as he skims each and every item written on the menu, his leg bouncing under the table due to anxiety.

"I love you Taehyung," you say at the same time as he began talking, he goes blank, the menu dropping from his hands while you mentally facepalm at yourselves. "Fuck I shouldn't have dropped this bomb this early.”

"What?" Taehyung gasps and then visibly gulps, and you return a crooked smile back. "Yes tae, I love you I've been loving you for a while now.." you confess once again, and he shutters "We-ll y/n m-e too" he says as if he's exclaiming, and you smile wide.

"But wait y/n, before I properly confess I want to tell you something," Taehyung nervously adds, becoming restless. Observing his moments you grab his spare hand which rested on the table and tell him to calm down.

"Y/n, you know I’m divorced, right? But I'm sorry I have hidden something very big from you, I have a five-year-old son Yi-hyun" he says, and you gasp "Oh my god, tae why did you hide this for so long?" you question, he fiddles with his fingers and explains his insecurities and chances of you leaving him.

"No tae, I would never, in fact, I love children and I would really love to spend my whole life with you." You blush as those words come out and Taehyung giggles, "I'll be more than glad and feel honored to stay with you for the rest of my life."

Taehyung gazes into your eyes, his eyes full of love and promises, the gentle breeze makes the few whips of your flix fly, and he thinks you look so pretty, soon the calm breeze carries out your wedding vows and seals all the promises of this lifetime commitment.

Yi-hyun stands right in the middle of you and Taehyung's parents, an uproar of cheers and claps filled the atmosphere when you exchange your rings. Glancing at him, you give a flying kiss and he acts to catch it, your husband won't stop at looking you with heart eyes.

It was soon evening while you and your husband basked in the warmth of newly wed love, surrounded by all your supporting family and friends. He occasionally steals a few kisses from you when you both slow danced and enjoyed the dance until it was time to make your grand exit and walk hand in hand till you reached your car.Your parents insisted on keeping your son for a couple of days until you come back from the honeymoon.

"Yi- hyun, don't trouble your grandparents okay baby? Be a good boy for me and your mom okay?" Your husband tells your son and he nods , he kisses yours and his father's and climbs down from his grasp and tells you both a "goodbye".

"Let's go baby been waiting for this day ever since I met you, gonna fuck you hard," Taehyung says with lust-filled eyes, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. He lays a few soft pecks, soliciting a gasp from you, letting out the smallest whimper of his name.

The ride to your house was short, your husband helped to get you out of the car and quickly thanked the driver, not even a minute later your back meets the door of your penthouse as your husband starts to devour your mouth with his, heavy kisses full of spit coats your lips.

You were taken aback for a few seconds until your mind processes his action, kissing your lover back with the same burning passion, you struggle a bit until you get the keys from the back pocket of Taehyung's pants.

"One Sec baby, let me just open this, and we can go inside," you say almost breathlessly in between kisses, turning around. Once inside, both you and his clothes join the ground soon. "I'll go slow baby okay? It's your first time, right? Gonna savour every last moment of this." Taehyung assures you, and you nod.

Never in your twenty-two years of living did you have sex with your boyfriend. Sex was a whole different thing you’ve yet to experience but you weren't a saint when it came to it either, the curious teen in you would look up porn and even tried masturbating before, but you just didn’t feel anything from it, you thought you were doing something wrong.

Taehyung helped you to get comfortable in the bed whilst he removes the last piece of his clothing, his boxers, while you had kept your panties on, feeling your cunt coating the plumpness of his lips with your slick. You moan at the movement as he hovers above you, "ready baby?" your husband sweetly asks, you nod and voice a simple "yes.”

Soft, gentle kisses are first felt on your neck and the light touch of his fingertips tickles your lower belly, coming dangerously close to your core. His nimble fingers nudge the bow on your lace panties, sucking in your breath when he slowly goes down to explore the rest of your body, sucking on your skin lightly as he trails his way down. Soon purple hues are decorated all over you.

Once he faces your core, his hot breath leaves you tingly inside, whimpering out his name as he slowly licks a wet strip of over the fabric of your panties and sucks on the ball of your clit, repeating his languid motion again and again, his eyes watching you above him. You’re left nothing short of a moaning mess, "fuck feels so good tae, just like that baby.." you express him how good he’s making you feel when he sucks and licks you over your panties, this new sensation was like no other.

Soon after a while he completely removes them off your body, groaning at the mess you made and his fingers rub over it so he could have some of you on his fingers. "Open baby" he affirms, you ecstatically take them in your mouth sucking off each finger one by one, he chuckles and bites back a moan. He thinks you’re the sexiest woman he’s ever seen.

"Gonna finger you baby, stay calm okay? I promise it's gonna soon feel okay." He assures and slowly inserts one of his fingers, you moan out loud as it feels different from what you felt while playing with yourself.

One finger soon turned into two and you felt something weird coming out, "Taehyung stop-stop, something's coming out," you breathlessly warn but he tells you to go on and doesn’t stop fingering you, only upping his pace. Liquid soon gushes out, "fuck baby, pretty girl" never failing to fluster you and make you blush, shying away and looking everywhere but his eyes.

His frame hovers above yours and tells you to rest properly, "Baby, is it okay?" He asks before continuing. His hard cock brushing over your soaked pussy lips, itching to be inside your warm cunt, his fingers part your lips while you involuntarily twitch, feeling weightless as his thumb rubs gentle circles along your sensitive clit. "Ready y/n? Look we don't have to do it tonight you can always back out baby" he says while you whimper at the loss. "N-no want it so bad I can take it" you eagerly said, leaning in to kiss his lips. "It might hurt at first, but then it's going to be okay, I promise my darling." With that, he slowly aligns himself with you and enters inside, causing you to both moan in unison.

Kissing your forehead to calm you down when he sees faint tears brimming your eyes, he pulls out just enough so he can spit in between you two to make the slide much easier. He notices some blood as you were still a virgin— up until now, beads of sweat drip from the sides of him and some of it lands onto your boobs. He attached his lips to suckle them, seeing your pretty mouth open wide and decides to slip his finger in, your body rises a bit when he tells you to see the bloody mess and you whimper while he pets your head with his other hand.

"Calm down baby you’re gripping me so hard.." he groans from the way you’re sucking him up and you try your best to relax your muscles and try to enjoy this feeling while occasionally kissing him, moaning at his touches. He rests his forehead on top of yours and soon he cums inside, gasping from his overwhelming orgasm, he slowly pushes himself up and removes his now softened cock. You feel the cum dripping down to your ass. “Wait up baby, I'm gonna get something to clean you up.” He smiles dotingly and you nod back at him.

Soon he cleans you both up and brings you a glass of water to drink, he’s cuddling with you as his fingers lace with yours. Soft kisses resound the room until you both knock down in each other's embrace.

You decide to wake him up with a good, morning blow job but who knew it would be him to be waking you up instead.

#Taehyung smut #kim taehyung #kim Taehyung smut #kim Taehyung fanfiction #Kim Taehyung x reader #taehyung x reader #Taehyung fluff #bts smut #taehyung fanfic #v smut #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #Dilf Taehyung #Virgin reader #cherry prick #bts v #Bts #bts fanfic bts smut

[retrievablememories]

cherry bomb | part 2 | jungkook (m)

pairing: jungkook x fem reader

summary: after your town goes into lockdown because of the cherry bomb massacre, you find out that the murderer's interest is on you. eventually, you’re left with no choice but to face him.

genre: horror/slasher, angst, smut, college!au

word count: 13.7k

warnings: major character deaths, gaslighting, hallucinations, anxiety/paranoia, grief, trauma, violence (including knife and gun use), torture, blood, gore, descriptions of dead bodies, a funeral scene, fuckboy!JK, oral (fem receiving), fingering, finger-sucking, handjob, cumplay(?), hair-pulling

a/n: this part is quite rougher than the first, so heed the warnings. same notes as the last part—not meant to be entirely realistic since this *is* a slasher. block/filter as needed. i didn’t mention this in part 1 but this fic is not set in present day; more like somewhere in the 2000s? i don’t think this fic would work as well with all this advanced technology/the prevalence of social media now

...also, i had this story all written out and then decided to completely change the plot at the last minute because i figured out a way to write the original plot i had wanted to do from the beginning. 💀 yeah…just leave your thoughts below

taglist is at the very bottom of the fic—for some reason i wasn't able to tag everyone who requested, so please reblog this fic so folks can see it

sources for the fic dividers: one | two

link to part 1

you’re standing in front of some stranger’s house in the early hours of the morning, your body heavy from exhaustion as your adrenaline has run out. this is not at all how you expected your night to end when you left your dorm hours ago. it must’ve taken at least 40 minutes to get to this house, and you’re less familiar with this part of town, which you try not to feel uneasy about. you suppose the farther away from the scene of the carnage, the better.

jungkook bangs on the door, calling out the name yoongi-hyung until the porch light comes on. though it’s illogical, you’re tense with apprehension that the murderer could somehow appear at any moment, and you hope whoever yoongi is lets the both of you in soon. so much for no longer looking over your shoulder.

a man with hair just as long as jungkook’s answers the door, looking disheveled and annoyed. “why the fuck are you banging down my door at nearly 2 am—"

yoongi stops speaking as he eyes the both of you up and down, his gaze going from the bite mark bruises you left on jungkook’s neck to the dried blood on your face to the bullet holes in jungkook’s car. his expression is between surprise and curiosity. “what the fuck is going on here?”

“can we talk inside?” jungkook says, though he doesn’t wait for an invitation before pushing his way past the other man and stepping inside.

“uh…hi. sorry.” you step inside too, glad to not be out in the open anymore.

yoongi takes another look outside the door at the state of jungkook’s car before closing and locking it. “mind explaining this shit? i thought you were going to that party you told me about?

“i did,” jungkook says, his voice full of frustration. “the fucking killer showed up at the party.”

“the fuck are you talking about?”

“you know what i’m talking about. that werewolf-masked freak? he came and just started stabbing people to death. we watched him shoot a fraternity member in front of us, dude. that’s why my car looks the way it does.”

“the campus is probably dangerous,” you add. “that’s why we came here. we just need somewhere safe to stay for the night.”

yoongi goes to the window and draws back the curtain. he peeks out the small holes in the side of the blinds rather than pushing the blinds down to look outside. “and you’re certain he didn’t follow you here? i thought he only killed virgins anyway. why the hell was he shooting at you?” then yoongi turns away from the window and looks at you. “oh. is this why?”

feeling put on the spot, you blurt out: “look, i don’t think that matters much anymore. he seemed to be killing anybody who was in his way.”

“and he was on foot the whole time, so there’s no way he could’ve followed us,” jungkook adds.

yoongi shakes his head and walks away from the window. “whole town is fucked, then. come on.”

you’re relieved to be able to scrub the blood off your face and change into fresh clothes. you initially thought it was peculiar that yoongi had spare clothes ready for you to wear until he alluded to keeping them on hand for any of jungkook’s hookups that he brings over.

“sure—of course.” you’d just nodded and tried not to look embarrassed as you accepted the clothes.

even after showering you don’t feel entirely clean, though. you think it might be impossible to return to feeling anything like your former self after tonight.

the couch has a pull-out bed, so it’s not as uncomfortable as it would be just sleeping on a regular sofa, which you are grateful for. you’re still arranging the pillow and blankets when jungkook walks into the room holding his own bedding.

“i think i should sleep here,” he says.

“there’s no room on the couch for the both of us,” you protest, thinking he means to take your spot.

“i mean on the floor. earlier, you didn’t seem like you wanted to be left alone in here.”

“oh.” you try to take the edge out of your voice; it’s hard to be polite when you’re still so overwhelmed with stress. “that’ll be uncomfortable though.”

jungkook just waves his hand and dumps his pillow and blanket on the floor before going to push the coffee table out of the way. “doesn’t really matter, i think we’ve been through worse tonight than sleeping on a hard floor…”

“thanks,” you say quietly, watching him spread his blanket out on the ground. you want to say something else, but you can’t think of anything.

“it’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

after a few more moments of staring at jungkook as he arranges his sleeping area, you finally ask, “i was wondering how’d you meet yoongi? he doesn’t seem like he’s a college student. i’ve never seen him around our campus, at least.”

“he isn’t. he works as a music producer, so he’s out of town a lot, but this is his homebase. as for how we met—it’s a long story. he and my brother actually used to know each other, so…” you think he’ll explain further, but he just shakes his head. “but he’s a good friend.”

“i see. a music producer…nice. how cool for a little town like this.”

after everything is to his liking, jungkook gets under the blanket. “tonight was a lot, so try to get some sleep.”

you nod and turn the lamp off, though you’re doubting you’ll get any peace tonight. “yeah…you too.”

--

SATURDAY MORNING, NOV 4

you wake up around 11 a.m. on a strange couch wearing strange clothes in a strange room. with your brain’s half-conscious state, your terror reawakens; you think maybe you’ve been kidnapped by the murderer and the car ride with jungkook last night was a dream—until yoongi pops into your mind.

you try to regulate your breathing and settle back beneath the blanket, though you know you won’t be going back to sleep.

you haven’t gotten more than an hour of sleep in total, broken up into 20-minute intervals across the hours. every time you’ve tried to close your eyes and drift off, you see the frat member’s skull bursting apart again, shocking your entire nervous system. you can think of nothing but the piles of bodies and the deaths you witnessed. perhaps it’s better that you don’t sleep; you figure your dreams wouldn’t be any more tolerable than your thoughts.

as you shift around on the couch, your whole body screams with soreness. your arms, your ribs, your sides, your legs, and—to a lesser extent—even between your thighs where jungkook was last night.

you glance over and see that he’s still sprawled on the floor, blanket halfway kicked off. he’s actually awake, his face turned away from you as he blinks slowly and stares at nothing, but he doesn’t say anything and so neither do you. with you spending most of your night awake, you saw that he was able to get more rest than you did. lucky him.

it hurts to move, but you reach for your phone and check for any signs of lorelai. none. there is one text from camille, sent 40 minutes ago.

➤ camille: I talked to Lorelai’s sister. She went to go see about a missing persons report. The police took her information but didn’t seem very concerned about it and said she might have just stayed the night with other friends after the party. Apparently a lot of others had the same idea as you. Campus is a ghost town. They’re still identifying all the bodies, so no word yet.

➤ y/n: so we just have to sit here and wait to see if she’ll turn up alive or dead? that’s useless.

➤ camille: As per fucking usual with the pigs.

➤ camille: She also told me there’s supposed to be a lockdown or something. It’s on the news.

➤ y/n: a lockdown???

looking around the room, you spot the TV remote sitting on yoongi’s coffee table a few feet away. you try to sit up, but it takes you a couple minutes longer than you anticipate because of the pain. jungkook notices the movement from the corner of his eye and turns to look at you. “what are you doing?”

“tryna get the remote.”

jungkook grabs it and hands it to you, and you turn the TV to one of the local news channels.

➤ camille: They’re telling people not to leave their homes for anything non-essential while they search for him. Not sure how long that’s supposed to last. I guess now they wanna get serious about this fucking killer? Too late for that.

you and jungkook watch as the newscaster gives a rundown of last night’s events; to your small relief, it looks like the killer didn’t try to go to the campus after the murders at the party house. the newscaster goes on to announce that the police are instating a citywide curfew, which they’ll discuss further at a press conference in the afternoon. in the meantime, they advise everyone to only travel in groups, shelter in place if possible, and keep all windows and doors locked.

you laugh humorlessly, and jungkook glances at you again. “in groups? we were all packed into one damn house at the party, and how much did that help?”

➤ y/n: are you sure you’re okay at the uni?

➤ camille: I’m fine. My roommate brought some of her friends into our room so no one’s left alone. Either way, my dad is coming to help me move some of my things out and come back home.

➤ y/n: okay, please just stay safe.

➤ camille: You too.

“what now?” jungkook says once the newscast goes off. “everybody just stays holed up for like a month while they hunt for that guy?”

you roll your eyes. “people won’t stay in their homes for that long. i don’t know how any of this is gonna work. we wouldn’t be in this mess now if they’d cared when this first started happening.”

“you think so? students would still be getting killed. the only difference is that a good chunk of people would just be sitting at home freaking the fuck out and too scared to go anywhere while the killer would still be on the loose.”

“…damn. it’s truly bleak to assume we’d still be in the same situation. you’re an optimistic one.”

“better than deluding yourself about it.”

“whatever. where’s your family to freak out over you? somebody should be concerned about your whereabouts by now. didn’t you say you have a brother? speaking of, i’m gonna have to call my sister soon…”

jungkook turns back to the TV, and you can tell he’s become more tense than he was seconds ago. “yeah, but i’m estranged from them. yoongi’s my family.”

wrong thing to ask. you wonder about the reason for it but decide it’s probably better not to pry. “ah…that sucks.”

jungkook looks back at you like he’s irked by that response, but he makes a noise resembling a chuckle. “tell me about it.”

later that afternoon, after you’ve reassured your sister veronica on her work break that you are fine and at a “friend’s” house (because you have no clue how to refer to either of these men), you and yoongi sit at the kitchen table with brunch while jungkook goes outside to examine the damage to his car more closely.

it’s difficult to eat, but you do so anyway; you don’t want to be rude by wasting the food yoongi made. the news station still plays loudly from the living room as you wait for the press conference to come on.

“so, about you and jungkook...” yoongi starts, looking at you from over the rim of his cup of coffee.

“what about me and jungkook?”

“we both know he didn’t get those bites on his neck from a wild animal attack.”

you sit up straighter in your seat, a sudden spike of irritation hitting you. “aren’t we all grown here? who cares?” you try to sound unbothered despite feeling very green about all of this. after all, you’d only had sex for the first time last night.

“look, i don’t care. fuck him all you want. i’m just trying to advise you not to get emotionally involved, because that’s not how jungkook operates. the amount of girls i’ve had somehow coming after my neck when their situationship with him doesn’t work out is starting to get really old. it’d be best if you didn’t do the same.”

you’re simultaneously annoyed at his assumption of you and flustered because you want to prove him wrong about acting the same as the other girls. you hate both feelings. “i don’t want anything like that with him. i just needed something done and i got it. it doesn’t matter anymore.”

yoongi shrugs, and you get the sense he’s heard that before and isn’t convinced, but you can’t be bothered going back and forth with him about this.

the press conference comes on TV a few minutes later. they announce that classes at your university are cancelled indefinitely; parents and relatives will need to come move their students out, and the school will be operating with a skeleton staff and increased security presence for any students who can’t leave the campus. the citywide curfew will be at 8 p.m. every night, by which time almost everyone will need to be in their homes, and it will end at 6 a.m each morning.

“fun,” you say sarcastically. “at least i won’t have to worry about finals and trying not to get murdered at the same time.”

when jungkook comes back inside, you let him know about what he missed from the press conference.

“we should just stay here for now.” when you raise your eyebrows, jungkook says, “i basically live here when i’m not on campus for classes. plus yoongi-hyung lets me bring girls here all the time, this is nothing new.”

“if both of you are gonna be hiding out in my place, we’ll need to go to the store,” yoongi says. “more mouths to feed.”

“…or i could just go home?” you propose, your mind reeling at them already making plans. you feel awkward about staying in a stranger’s house for who knows how long. “i think we only really needed to stay here for the night. it’s fine.”

“will you have people there with you?” jungkook asks. “it’s not safe to be alone.”

you’re surprised he seems to be this concerned, but you answer: “well, i mean…my sister works 12-hour shifts as a nurse and she’s the only one living there, so…” you’d chosen your university because your older sister lived in the area, and because it was a tradition for women in your family to attend that school, but there were no other relatives you could turn to. your parents lived a couple of towns away.

yoongi comes to the conclusion so you don’t have to. “in other words, you’ll be alone most of the day.”

“…i guess. but i’m really not tryna impose on you by staying here.”

yoongi tilts his head, a small smirk on his lips. you automatically dislike the look on his face. “why don’t you take jungkook with you, then?”

you and jungkook glance at each other. “but, hyung…”

yoongi shakes his head. “you already know i can take care of myself. seriously, don’t worry about it.” and then yoongi winks at you. you don’t know for sure, but you take that to mean he’s probably packing heat like camille’s dad.

“if you’re sure.” turning to you, jungkook says, “so, how about it?”

“it’s my sister’s house, so i’ll have to ask her,” you say tentatively. “yeah…uh. let me do that now, i guess.” you pull out your phone to text her about it, though you know it’ll be a while before she gets another work break and can answer. “in the meantime…i think we’ll need to go to the store either way. and then to campus to pick our things up.”

“you’re right. let’s go then,” jungkook says.

the store is full of people panic-buying food and necessities in preparation for the curfew and effective lockdown, which you expected. you and jungkook end up going your separate ways to find the things you need because it’s quicker that way, and because you want to get in and out of the store as soon as possible. the crowdedness is too much like the party, and despite yourself, anxiety begins rising in you due to the claustrophobic atmosphere. you try to maintain even breaths as you keep searching for items. just what you need—a shiny new trauma to make your life harder.

you pass by a man in one of the less-crowded aisles before realizing he’s standing in front of what you need to get, examining one of the food packages. you wait a few moments to see if he’ll finish up soon, and when your eyes begin to wander, you see that there’s a long gray hair clinging to the back of his leather jacket, standing out clearly against the black. you probably wouldn’t have noticed this at all on any other day, except your mind has been on high alert for hours now; you find it strange that this strand clearly doesn’t match the shade or length of the hair on his head, which is short and plain brown. the shade of the hair also weirdly reminds you of something, though you can’t quite recall what; it remains just out of your mind’s reach.

you shake your head. he could’ve come to the store with somebody who has long gray hair, or hugged them before he left home, and a strand stuck to his jacket. it’s the least of your issues right now.

the man must feel your presence behind him because he turns around to look at you. you’re a little taken aback by his gaze; his expression isn’t mean per se, but very intense, as if his entire focus is trained on you.

there’s a second’s pause, like he’s thinking about something before he speaks. “am i in your way?” he asks, never breaking eye contact. his voice doesn’t portray any particular emotion.

“i just have to get something really quick.” he steps aside and gestures to the rows of food without a word. you slip in beside him and grab what you need before moving away again. “thanks.” you think about telling him about the hair on his jacket but decide against it; your decision is solidified when you spot a wolf figurine keychain on his keys, faded from time but still distinguishable. it makes your breath catch.

there’s no way it could be him. it was kind of dark in the party house with nothing but string lights and lamps illuminating it, and everything happened so quickly…but you do remember the colors of that mask. red, yellow, black—and that dark gray for the fur.

but maybe it’s really all just a coincidence; how much sense would it make to turn every person with wolf paraphernalia and random stray hairs into a suspect?

you walk down the rest of the aisle and away from the man with growing unease. maybe it’s time to find jungkook so you can get out of here; you can hardly keep yourself together, and despite your best attempts at logic, you can’t stop yourself from getting more frantic about those two things.

speeding up your walk and weaving through people, you look down every aisle in search for jungkook before you find him, rushing over to him as you breathe heavily.

“whoa, what the hell is wrong? did somebody do something?”

“no, i…”

“what happened?”

“it’s the…well, the…i saw, uh…”

“y/n.”

“i saw—the mask. the fur from the mask. do you remember it?”

“…you mean that stupid ass werewolf mask?” you gesture for jungkook to lower his voice. “wait, you’re saying you saw it in here?”

“no, i saw a man who had a strand of hair on his jacket…” it starts sounding ridiculous to your own ears the more you speak, but you continue. “the strand—it was the same color as that fur. the same length! and he—he had some weird wolf keychain…”

jungkook stares at you for a long moment before sighing. “you’re not serious? a random strand of hair that could be from anybody or anything? that could be from someone’s fucking grandma for all we know. plus a keychain…maybe he just likes wolves, y/n.”

you already know that saying i just feel like something is off won’t be enough to convince him. you sigh with a deep sense of defeat, considering that he’s probably right. maybe your initial assumption was the more sensible answer. “…right. i think i’m just really fucked up right now after everything that happened. can we finish up here?”

“yeah, we will. because you definitely need to lay down soon or something. you haven’t had any sleep all night, right?” the way jungkook eyes you with concern as if you’ve lost your mind annoys you. you’re about to give a smart remark when you notice something in the carrying-basket he has.

“…a baseball bat?”

“if the killer comes after us again, duh. we’ll be prepared this time. or at least i will.”

“good luck with that if he happens to have another gun.” rolling your eyes, you brush past jungkook to go to one of the checkout counters.

in the parking lot, you see that the man from earlier has also come out and is putting the last of his grocery bags into his car trunk. there’s really nothing spectacular about his appearance that would make him stand out in a crowd, with his average height and average looks, let alone incriminate him as a serial killer. yet that familiar unease won’t leave.

he sees you and jungkook walking towards the car together, and his eyes dart to the bullet holes in jungkook’s car. then he makes eye contact with you. you give a half-hearted wave, unsure what else to do with his eyes stuck on you. for a moment, his lips turn up into the faintest smile before he shakes his head and gets into his own car.

--

MONDAY, NOV 6

you’ve spent half of saturday and all of sunday trying to get used to living in your sister’s house with jungkook. veronica had been surprisingly okay with having him stay over, though most of it was her being relieved you finally found “a potential boyfriend who’s actually cute.” you didn’t have the energy to argue with her.

you’ve also been constantly checking on camille (to her eventual annoyance) and seeing if there are any more updates on lorelai. still nothing. your dread grows the further away you get from that bloody friday, but you try to keep your thoughts from straying too darkly.

right now, you, veronica, and jungkook all sit on the couch together in a neat little row, a bowl of popcorn in front of you on the coffee table and some science-fiction B-movie playing on the TV. your sister proposed the idea to distract yourselves from everything going on, but so far, you feel like it isn’t very effective. at least not for you. your mind keeps wandering to other things every 5 minutes.

eventually, veronica yawns widely, stretching her arms and legs before rising off the couch. “okay, i’m getting tired as fuck. i need to go to sleep for work tomorrow anyway. you guys enjoy the rest of the movie, okay?” she pats your shoulder as she passes by you on her way out of the room.

jungkook waves. “oh, sure. goodnight.”

“night, sis.”

when jungkook’s attention goes back to the movie, your sister makes eye contact with you and points her finger at you menacingly. you give her a shocked look while she mouths you know what i mean and swirls her finger in jungkook’s direction. embarrassed at the implication, you roll your eyes and turn your head back to the TV screen. having sex with jungkook on your sister’s couch is not high on your list of priorities tonight.

after your sister is gone, jungkook spreads out on the couch like it’s his own living room, placing his legs right over your lap. you sigh, looking over at him—and hoping that your eyes don’t linger too obviously on the expanse of thigh muscle that’s now on display from his shorts riding up higher.

“…really? i don’t want your big ole legs in my lap.”

jungkook just grins. “you should lay down too, it’s more comfortable this way.” you stare at him, and he tries to egg you on by pulling the sleeve of your shirt. “come on.”

“i’m not laying down on top of you, if that’s what you’re after.”

you do end up lying down, but on the opposite side of the couch so that your legs are tangled together, which really just increases the amount of contact between you either way—but whatever.

this makes jungkook laugh more. “ha, it’s like we’re scissoring.”

“so damn corny.”

you two continue watching the rest of the movie, but by the end of it you don’t remember half of what happened. taking the remote, you flip through the channels and try to find something else to look at. there isn’t much interesting to watch on a random monday night—which would be a school night anyway, if not for the current context.

as you search for a channel, jungkook asks: “what would you do if you found out who the killer was?”

you squint your eyes at his odd question. maybe the obvious answer would be to alert the police. but after days of having your anger stoked like a fire, that’s not exactly the answer you’d choose. “maybe i’d kill him.” the words leave your lips easily, and you hardly think twice about them once they’re out.

neither of you speak for a few long moments.

“does that scare you?” you ask, after the silence starts annoying you. you want to laugh, but there’s nothing really funny about the situation.

“…not really. angry women are kinda sexy. so are dangerous ones.”

you scoff. “i’m not tryna be sexy, you fool. and how many dangerous women have you dealt with? seems to me you only have a thing for the innocents.”

“it’s not like i only fuck virgins. you don’t even know me like that.” he nudges your leg with his foot like he’s also annoyed, but his expression doesn’t show any actual irritation.

“…if you want to go back and forth about it, go outside and argue with the wall or something. i’m in no mood, jungkook.” you shove his foot off of you. “just, holy shit. i wish i could have just one hour where i don’t have to think about any of this shit. my mind can’t even breathe.”

he’s actually quiet for a couple minutes after. you think he’s moved on from the conversation until he finally says, “i can give you an hour.”

your body becomes alert at that. the insinuation in his tone is obvious. you glance backwards as if your sister could hear you from upstairs, though you know that’s illogical. “i got what i wanted from you already,” you whisper.

“so? what if i wanted to give you more? you know you’re allowed to have sex with a person more than once, yeah?” he chuckles.

here he is making you this offer, and once again you feel like you’ve been reduced to the state of a confused lamb in front of a hungry wolf. you realize that the idea of letting yourself get more physically entangled with jungkook scares you. he is not someone you can turn into a boyfriend, who wants to be a boyfriend, and you are only looking to save yourself from any potential hurt. “it would just be sex—right? you have to know i’m not looking for anything deeper from you.”

jungkook smirks. like with yoongi, you don’t know if he believes you. “i know.”

you want to undo almost everything from the past few days. you can’t forget, but for a while, you want to just exist outside of the timeline where there’s a killer on the loose and one of your friends is missing. it’s too much to handle; your body is approaching its limits for the amount of stress it can take. you need a balm to numb the pain and the fear, and you dislike that you are giving into your base instincts to do so. you feel guilty, somehow. but pleasure is easy. at least it has been whenever you sought it on your own—and now you have someone else to give it to you. someone who is in front of you now, proposing it with all the willingness in the world. maybe there’s really nothing wrong with saying yes.

“jungkook…”

“hm?”

“please just shut the fuck up and don’t say another word about the outside world right now. i don’t want to think about anything but your…” you falter, still trying to get used to expressing what you want sexually.

jungkook sits up, his hands sliding up your legs and to your hips. “but my what?”

“um, your…” your thoughts end when he leans down and pulls the hem of your sweater up, planting a kiss on your waist where your skin meets the waistband of your sweatpants. one kiss turns into a second, and a third. the fourth becomes an open-mouthed embrace of his lips on your skin, and you make a small noise of pleasure when his tongue gets involved.

“careful. don’t want veronica to come down here, remember?”

you huff. “that isn’t happening any time soon, believe me.”

his kisses continue as he begins to slide your sweatpants down, revealing the waistband of your panties. once they’re fully on display, he leans forward to nuzzle his face between your thighs, his mouth and nose pressing into the seat of your underwear. his actions take you off guard. you actually give a brief chuckle from surprise, though you are also somewhat embarrassed. “now what the hell are you doing?”

“let me savor my meal before i eat it.” his warm breaths tickle your inner thighs as he speaks.

“ugh, don’t turn me off.”

“that’s funny, because i seem to have an easy time getting you wet.” to prove it, his fingers press into the seat of your underwear to feel the wetness that’s seeped into them; you sigh from the brief pleasure his fingers’ movements afford you before he pulls them away.

jungkook drags your panties down next, his lips trailing down your lower abdomen and across the curls of hair covering your pubic mound. your body fills with anticipation at the gradual pace of his actions and the purposeful, wet caresses of his mouth.

when he uses his thumbs to press your lower lips apart and expose you more fully to him, you have half a mind to be self-conscious about it until he places his mouth on you in earnest.

jungkook eats like someone who hasn’t done so in a while and doesn’t know when he’ll get to do it again. his mouth sucks at your clit like he’s desperate for you to come, tongue rolling over the swollen nub in an unrelenting pattern that has your stomach tensing, and you quickly realize you do have to try to silence yourself even if you know it won’t wake veronica up. you twist your hands into the sleeves of your sweater and lean your head back on the couch’s armrest as you arch your hips up closer to jungkook’s face, uncaring about how vulnerable you feel completely offering yourself up to him like this; right now, all you want is to feel good.

“gonna come quick again? maybe we can set a new record?” jungkook pins your knee against the couch with his elbow to keep your legs open as he slides two fingers inside, diving straight in instead of working you up this time. your body breaks out in a sweat and you know you really won’t last long once he does this, the tips of his fingers aiming for that dreadful, wonderful, and overpowering place inside you. you don’t know how people do this—you feel like you’re going to die when he stimulates that spot, and all you want to do is scream even though you can’t.

“a r-record? fuck off…” you choke out, though you begin to rock your hips into the rhythm of his fingers, needing so badly for him to take you over the edge again.

he chuckles. “i don’t think you want me to fuck off right now.”

you have no words for a good comeback when he buries his head between your legs and slurps at your pussy again and crooks his fingers repeatedly to where your orgasm is unexpectedly rushing down upon you, causing your body to tense as you gasp and stifle any sounds that escape with your sweater sleeve.

jungkook doesn’t stop there and you don’t really expect him to, because you’re beginning to learn he isn’t a one-and-done type of man. he keeps sucking and stroking you right into another releasewhile you push the beanie off his head, fist your fingers into his strands, and tremble over the sight of his pitch-black mess of hair between your thighs. something about the visual is so appealing to you.

after he has made you come for the third time, you watch him sit up on his knees to reach into his shorts and pull his dick out, his darkened tip slick with precum. his long hair falls into his face as he glances downward, using the hand he’d been fingering you with to lube himself up with your cum.

“come here,” you tell him, your voice coming out sharper than you intended; but he doesn’t care, because he follows your request without a word and presses himself into your side. the couch is just big enough to accommodate both of you in this position, but it’s still a tight fit, and your bodies are once again tangled together.

“let me touch you,” you say, your palm pressed to his stomach, feeling the firmness of the muscle.

he raises his eyebrows, like you didn’t even need to ask. “of course.”

“no, i mean…” he realizes what you actually mean as you brush his hand away from his shaft and wrap your fingers around it instead.

“should i teach you how?” jungkook brings his hand to overlap yours, though his breath becomes a bit strained when you slide your hand to the base of his cock and back to the tip again, the pads of your fingers rubbing over the sensitive head. seeing your fingers around him turns him on more than he thought it could, and it’s just a simple fucking handjob.

you roll your eyes. “stroking a dickshouldn’t be that hard.”

“everyone likes it differently, though. fast, slow, soft, or rough…just the tip, or the whole shaft.” you can’t deny that—or the way you find yourself throbbing at his words, his voice husky from the pleasure. which is why you let jungkook close his hand more fully around yours and guide your movements.

it’s captivating to observe his reactions from your hand on his skin—the heavy breaths he lets out and the soft moans and even softer whimpers that come in between the exhales. whenever you squeeze his shaft more firmly or rub your thumb against his leaking tip, you find yourself grinning at the rise and fall of his chest and the tongue that darts out of his mouth to lick at his lips. but mostly, your eyes are drawn back to the sight of your hand working him over, his thighs and stomach tensing sporadically.

eventually, you both look away from your joined hands and at each other’s faces. your eyes dart to his lips and back to his gaze again, and you shift your face forward to signal your desire for a kiss. he meets you there by pressing his lips to yours, and it isn’t hard for him to get lost in the meeting of your mouths and the heat from your palm on his shaft.

your free hand returns to his soft hair to tug on it as your tongues slide against each other. he grunts at the burn of his roots being pulled but doesn’t stop you; on the contrary, his body responds favorably as more precum swells from his tip and his nipples poke against the material of his shirt.

“do you like that, jungkook?” you mumble against his mouth.

“you know i do.” at some point, his hand falls away and he lets you stroke him on your own.

jungkook gives a shuddering moan into your mouth when he climaxes minutes later, thick streams of his cum shooting onto his shirt and dripping down your hand. he tries to keep quiet and doesn’t entirely succeed, but it doesn’t much matter.

you squeeze the few remaining drops of cum from his cockhead, trying to make sure you don’t grip hard enough to actually hurt him. you pull your sticky hand away from jungkook when you think he’s finally emptied, but he grabs your wrist and you look at him questioningly. you watch with shocked eyes as jungkook brings your hand up and takes your messy fingers into his mouth, sucking his cum from them. you know instinctively it isn’t the first time he’s done this—not with the look of pure satisfaction on his features as he licks his own seed off your fingers.

his enthusiastic pleasure is part of the reason why you accept when jungkook gives you a crushing kiss, passing his cum from his tongue to yours. you don’t know what you expected it to taste like, but it isn’t gross like you’ve heard others complain about when sharing their sex tales; despite being salty, the overall taste is neutral. still, it takes some getting used to.

when you pull away from each other, noses brushing and lips wet from each other’s spit, you look into his dark brown eyes and get the sudden desire to say something that’s been buried in the back of your mind for days now.

“why did you come straight to me that night?” you whisper. “like you already knew who you were there for.”

jungkook stares back, his lips curving up slightly. “i just wanted to. or i wanted you, more specifically.”

“that’s not an answer.”

“well, it’s my answer.”

“was i another one to knock off your list?”

“you think i have a list?”

“i’m not stupid. it’s not unusual for guys to have a list. plus, plenty of rumors go around.”

jungkook taps his fingers underneath your chin and kisses you on the lips again, though it is brief. “stop believing everything you hear.”

you clearly won’t be getting a straight answer from him tonight. with the moment broken, you sigh and begin pulling your bottoms back on. “…whatever you say, dude.” once you’re dressed, you climb over his body to get off the couch. you poke him in the chest as your eyes roam over him in his disheveled state, his shorts pulled down and his cum staining his black shirt. “might wanna clean yourself up, huh? i’m going to sleep. and, yeah…thanks for the distraction.”

--

TUESDAY, NOV 7

with the weather being as cold as it is and heading toward winter in another month or so, lorelai is surprised by how quickly the bodies began to smell.

she doesn’t know much of anything about bodily decomposition—because, to her parents’ disappointment, she wasn’t about to be a biology major and have to be around cadavers in a dissection lab—but if this were a movie or something, she would’ve thought it would take longer than just one day. the smell started to hit her the saturday after the party.

but ultimately, this isn’t a movie, and the fact that she’s trapped in a decrepit house in some remote part of town is her present reality.

she doesn’t remember anything about how she got to this house; she thinks she must have been concussed before she was brought here. her head has been hurting badly for days, and not even the simple relief of a painkiller is available.

what she does know is that she’s being kept in a dirty living room on an equally dirty mattress, her hands and legs tied by rope and zip-ties. if there were any miniscule chance of her escaping, it would be impossible to go anywhere considering both her ankles are broken, only adding to the amount of physical pain she’s been in for days.

the living room is mostly empty except for the bodies of some other students from the party, which have been scattered around the room. lorelai tries not to look at them—especially not at the ones she knows—but it’s difficult. they become even more terrifying to her when night falls, turning into dark, rotting shadows in the corners of the room. there has been nothing but the company of these corpses for days, and a couple of visits from the killer.

he's never once taken off his wolf mask or his gloves, and every other part of his body stays covered in all black. she doesn’t have the first idea of what he looks like underneath it all. he has spoken to her a few times, but the voice isn’t one she recognizes. his words when she first awoke inside this house still knock around in her mind, filling her with dread.

he’d crouched in front of her, watching her move around on the mattress and try to orient herself. he had the casual air of someone observing a flipped-up bug struggle on the sidewalk before crushing it underfoot. “you aren’t y/n, but you’ll do for now. we’ll have some real fun later on. you’ll help me give her a good scare.”

“how the fuck do you know y/n?” lorelai had struggled against her restraints, but this only made her newly broken ankles hurt worse. tears began to fall from her eyes from the pain and fear.

the killer had said nothing to that—only tilted his head curiously and stared at her, which was unnerving even if she couldn’t see his eyes.

“you have no fucking reason to go after her, she’s not even a virgin anymore you dumb fuck—” with those words, the killer had backhanded her, sending her already injured head into a fresh wave of agony.

“things would’ve been different if not for that fucking party. you students think you’re so fucking clever, yeah? and look how you paid for it.” it was impossible to see any facial expression, but his body language spoke of anger. “no matter, though. virgin or not, i’ll see this through to the end.”

now it’s yet another morning, and he has returned. he has a lot of debris in his hands—stuff like sticks and dry moss and foliage. he’s also carrying a small bag, the contents of it a mystery. everything he does causes alarm for lorelai, but now confusion joins in.

“ready to have some fun?” he asks. with duct tape over her mouth, she can’t answer back. she watches as he arranges the debris on the ground in front of her, her anxiety mounting as he takes a lighter out of his pocket and sets fire to the foliage.

leaning forward, he rips part of the duct tape away from her mouth with his gloved hand, causing her face to sting. “got anything to say?”

“wh-what the fuck are you doing?”

“i’m gonna stoke a nice fire here…get this knife hot enough to hurt.” he brings out his knife then, and lorelai shrinks away from the blade as he drags the flat of it across her throat—but there’s nowhere else to go, as she’s sitting up against the wall. “then i’ll just cut this pretty little body up a bit. the finishing touch…i think i’ll slice your throat open. how does that sound?” he takes the knife away from her neck to hold the blade over the flames.

lorelai’s breath hitches, and her stomach begins to physically hurt from the outpouring of anxiety flowing through her. she starts to sob, trying to speak through the tears and snot and drool. the only question she can muster up is, “wh-why?”

“this is for y/n—remember? i hope that concussion hasn’t fucked with your memory.” the killer watches the reflection of the flames on the blade as it grows hotter. “and…i’m doing someone a favor.” he doesn’t wait for her to speak again before putting the duct tape back in place over her mouth, leaving her to cry to herself and face her rising distress as he heats the knife until it’s burning hot. internally, she wishes there was any way in the world to get out of this situation.

it isn’t much longer before he’s finished. lorelai screams as he approaches her with the knife, and then at the feeling of the red-hot blade scorching her skin, though the sounds are stifled by the duct tape.

“now, be still while i fix you up.”

--

WEDNESDAY, NOV 8

you go outside that afternoon to check the mail and have an excuse to get out of the house; it doesn’t matter if it’s only for a few moments. you’re not used to staying cooped up in one place for so long with absolutely nothing to do, and you feel like you’re not too far off from going mad with cabin fever. it hasn’t even been a week since everything happened.

you open the mailbox, and there are the usual bills along with something strange: a blank envelope with no return address. even your sister’s address isn’t written on it. flipping it over, you see that the envelope was never sealed. someone must’ve just come up and put it inside the mailbox. but who the hell would do that, and for what reason? whenever any of your neighbors have something to give you or your sister, they come straight up to the house to do it.

inside the envelope is a set of polaroids. their content makes you drop the rest of the mail. your legs grow weak, and you end up sitting down hard on the end of the driveway, some of the polaroids slipping from your hands. the pictures show the bodies of some of the students from your university, their corpses posed in odd positions and some bare of clothing—all dead.

you struggle to breathe as you frantically flip through the rest of the pictures. in the center of all the group photos is lorelai, her neck torn open and her wrists and ankles tied. she’s still dressed the way she was the night of the party, though her dress is stained with dark brown blood. there are open cuts all over her bare skin, their appearance rough-looking and uneven as if they’ve been cauterized.

there are several group polaroids, several of lorelai alone, and several angles of the outside of a house, which must be the same one the bodies are being kept in. one photo of lorelai slips out of your shaking hands, and you see there’s barely legible handwriting on the back of it, which reads, “this is just the teaser, y/n.”

you scream and don’t stop screaming until jungkook comes running out of the house holding the baseball bat, as if the killer might’ve gotten bold enough to attack in daylight. a couple of your neighbors peek out of their houses and make their way over with concern on their faces once they see you sitting on the ground, your exclamations ringing through the street.

there’s a disarrayed group of people around you grabbing at your shoulders and asking what’s wrong, what happened, and then gasps and exclamations of shock when they see the polaroids. you feel yourself being pulled to your feet and then lifted up—maybe it’s jungkook, because it smells like him—but you’re too disoriented to make proper sense of anything right now. you can only think of how much time has been wasted, and how little time lorelai actually had left.

--

SUNDAY, NOV 12

in the main lobby of the funeral home, you sit in a chair next to camille, staring into empty space while the other girl tries to cry as quietly as she can. she cries as if she’s ashamed of it, and you wish you could comfort her, but you don’t know what to say or do. for the past few days, you’ve mostly just felt numb.

you’re waiting for veronica to come back out so you can leave, as she’d stayed behind after the service to talk to lorelai’s family for a little longer.

lorelai’s family had opted to have her cremated after seeing the state of her body. a lot of other families did the same after the events of cherry bomb, not even wanting to entertain the idea of a closed-casket funeral. you can understand their feelings about it if you push through the haze in your mind to consider it for long enough. though the morticians have done the best they can over the past week, sometimes knowing that your loved one has multiple stab wounds and eviscerated organs beneath all the makeup and fancy clothing is too much to handle.

when veronica finally comes out, the three of you walk outside to join the rest of the people who’ve started getting in their cars. some still linger in small huddles, shaking their heads and wiping their faces.

jungkook, who’d driven you and veronica to the memorial, waits outside for you all, leaning on the side of the building. you both thought it was probably better for him not to attend the service considering lorelai was never fond of him and he didn’t know her that well.

“is it finished?” he asks.

“it is.” veronica sighs. “god, funerals are so damn…bleak.”

you notice a man waving at your group from the other side of the parking lot and realize it’s camille’s dad. her posture straightens when she catches sight of him, and she hurriedly tries to wipe the rest of her tears before shoving her tissue into her pocket. “i-i think my dad is waiting for me. i…i’ll see you guys later, alright?”

“okay, camille.” the strange absence of emotion that you’ve been trapped in for the past few days suddenly cracks open when you notice camille’s anxious demeanor as she speed-walks away from the rest of you. intense sorrow overtakes you; you don’t want her to leave, but she has to go.

you are crying before you fully understand what’s happening. veronica puts her arms around you and squeezes you against the side of her body. jungkook reaches a thumb up to wipe away your tears, though you don’t let him get very far before turning your head away and into veronica’s shoulder.

“y/n…”

“how am i supposed to go on?” you exclaim, catching the attention of a few people nearby. “the police said maybe she’s just staying with friends. and now look. plus, the killer knows where me and my sister live now…maybe he always knew.”

“we don’t even have a clue who the killer is…” jungkook mumbles. “there’s no one you know of who might have a grudge against you?”

“no, jungkook. the police already gave me all that questioning. and it doesn’t help me feel any better to think maybe all these deaths are somehow my fault.” you scoff.

“y/n, nothing’s your fault because some freak decided to go around killing people; that was his decision.” jungkook argues.

you nod slightly to his words but say nothing else, not wanting to go further into that topic. you don’t know if you can believe him about that.

the parking lot is emptying out now, so you try to pull yourself together so the three of you can leave. “well…you don’t need to keep staying with us if you don’t want to. we have those assigned bodyguards now, so…” you glance in the direction of one other car sitting beside jungkook’s—inside it are two men the police force appointed after the polaroids of the bodies were planted in your sister’s mailbox.

jungkook looks at you as if he’s trying to gauge your expression; he himself looks surprised, though he attempts to play it off. veronica glances between you both, recognizing the awkward shift in the air.

“you don’t want me there anymore? i mean it is your house—” he glances at veronica “—so that’s fine with me if—"

“what? i didn’t say i don’t want you there, neither did veronica, it’s just if you don’t want to be there—"

“i never said i didn’t want to be there, though?”

you both become quiet, jungkook looking at you and you returning his gaze for a few seconds before looking off to the side. veronica is still standing between you both like she’d rather be anywhere else on earth.

“i just figured that maybe…” why are you being so concerned about me? isn’t this the part where we go our separate ways? is what you really want to ask. you have seen and learned enough from your friends’ and even your acquaintances’ experiences to realize that any other one night stand would not have cared so much. that’s how these things go, right? but he isn’t really a one night stand anymore, either.

you don’t even know if you’re considered friends with benefits, but what would that change? you’d still seen others tossed aside without much thought by their FWBs while in times of need. considering his history, you don’t understand why jungkook isn’t following the same template now, and you don’t think you should ask why for fear of breaking the illusion.

fed up with your own confusion, you decide now isn’t the time to lament on your lack of knowledge about these things. “nevermind. that’s fine. so you’ll stay?”

the corner of his mouth lifts in a brief smile. “i’ll stay as long as you won’t try to kick me out.”

you aren’t in the mood to attempt to smile back, but he seems to understand that. “right, well...good.”

“…now that you two have figured that shit out, can we leave?”

--

FRIDAY, NOV 17

jungkook thought that getting outside a bit more would help you feel better and prevent you from developing a complete fear of leaving the house, which is why you’re sitting in this claustrophobic little diner now with him, yoongi, and camille—and of course, your ever-present bodyguards in the booth behind you all. but this outing isn’t doing anything to mitigate your fears.

nearly 10 minutes in, you have to ask jungkook to switch seats with you so you’re not on the outside of the booth, as you’re afraid that it’s too easy-access if anyone—say, the killer, though you’ve been trying not to think so obsessively about him—were to come in and start stabbing you to death right where you sit. being on the inside calms you for a little while until you become anxious about the window beside you; what if he has a gun again and simply shoots through the glass? all he’d have to do is stand on the sidewalk and aim, his werewolf mask laughing at you with its eternally frozen growling expression, and your brains would be all over the table just like that frat guy’s.

your meal sits half-eaten as you get increasingly lost in your anxieties. the others are talking about something, but you can’t hear what. it’s like some of your senses have shut down or begun working incorrectly. the strawberry sauce in camille’s sundae looks too much like blood and even smells like it from the occasional whiffs you get, and you find yourself staring at the sundae dish and wanting to throw it across the restaurant.

jungkook’s hand touches you on the back, and the tension in your body increases. he feels it and draws away, though he keeps trying to meet your eyes. “are you okay?” he whispers.

“why ask that? she obviously isn’t,” yoongi says, like he’s annoyed with the obviousness of jungkook’s question.

“hyung, i’m just trying to help.”

“it was your great idea to come out here when she didn’t want to, though.”

“y/n—” camille starts.

“can’t you throw that out? it smells like blood.” your mouth feels useless and hard to maneuver, but you manage to say those words.

“what?”

“the…that. that thing.” everyone looks at camille’s melting sundae. yoongi raises his eyebrows.

“blood?”

“do you mean it—looks like blood?” jungkook suggests.

you raise your voice in irritation, not understanding how everyone else is unable to perceive the same scent that you do. “no, i-it does, but it smells like blood too! just get rid of it!”

one of the waitresses comes over to the table. “is everything okay over here?”

“um, we’re fine! i’m finished with this though.” camille hurriedly hands the sundae off to her, trying to keep the situation calm.

“oh, well—the rest of you too? that’ll be it, then?” she gathers everyone’s plates and leaves with a smile that attempts to be cordial but is still colored with unease.

her departure leaves a stiff silence in which you all spare glances at each other but try to avoid directly meeting eyes. camille is the first to break it.

“i’ll ask my dad if i can stay over with you,” she suggests. she suddenly sounds much more tired. jungkook’s eyebrows furrow slightly at her words; yoongi silently glances at the younger man. “just, you know…maybe the extra company would help? he’s been treating me like a kid again, but we should be safe with the bodyguards there, so…”

“you don’t have to do that,” you say, though you’re too exhausted to truly argue.

“you’re in shambles, y/n. and it’s not just for your benefit. i’m feeling pretty fucking alone right now, and it’s hard for my dad to understand the emotional side of it, so…” camille plays with her fingers and doesn’t look at anyone as she speaks; you know talking about her father can be a sore spot for her sometimes. “uh, anyway. not to trauma-dump or anything. just let me do this.”

you sigh. “fine…okay. do whatever you have to. can we just leave?”

as you’re all walking outside, jungkook pulls you aside.

“i still worry about you after that incident at the store, you know?” he admits.

you shrug his hand off your arm and glare at him. “you think i’m crazy.”

“i don’t. i just want you to be able to relax and not feel like you’re being hunted 24/7. i don’t think the killer is constantly waiting around the nearest corner for you, y/n.”

“you don’t know how close the killer could be. he knows where i go to sleep at night. so stop the bullshit, jungkook.”

“you’ll be okay. you have me, remember? i protected you that night…i can do it again.”

you examine his face for a long moment and find that you are too overwhelmed with stress and fear to be moved by his words. “i’d like to trust you…but the killer might just murder you too. then who’ll save me?” you don’t wait for his response before walking away to catch up with the other two.

--

LYING IN WAIT...

it’s strange to see the police bodyguards in veronica’s driveway and backyard everyday. it’s not the same two all day—they switch off so that there are two doing a day shift and two doing a night shift.

the security team at the hospital where your sister works is aware of the situation, so you try not to get too worried about her safety when she’s away from the house—but it’s difficult.

there have been no more kills connected to your university since lorelai. it seems like half the town has forgotten their fears and tried to go back to some sense of normalcy while the other half still hides away and lives in perpetual panic, including you. the former group of people has started muddying the waters for the police, with some teenagers getting brave enough to sneak around in wolf masks and vandalize buildings with red-lettered virgin graffiti just to fuck with the cops. there have even been a few people who turned themselves in claiming to be the killer—only their supposed confessions never matched the details of the case.

reporters have tried to hound lorelai’s family and your family several times for any speculations or answers on the killer’s identity, but none of you are willing to spread misinformation just to give them something to write about. however, that hasn’t stopped other residents of your town from sharing their speculations and even implicating their own relatives or neighbors—whether as a fucked-up joke or as genuine revenge just depends on whoever’s speaking. with all of these false leads, the police are still no closer to finding the killer than they’d initially been.

everyday feels like you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop, though the chances of any more kills are starting to seem improbable; the university is practically empty. but it doesn’t matter to you if the school is nearly deserted, because the killer has his aims set on you now, and you only wish you knew why.

up in your room, you and camille sit on your bed gazing out the window—the window that must always remain locked now, for fear of unwanted ingress. you’ve never been uncomfortable in your sister’s house, but lately you’ve been feeling like you’re boxed in with every wall pressing towards you.

sitting up from your lying-down position, you have to find the appropriate words for a moment before speaking. “camille—i can’t stop feeling like maybe we aren’t entirely safe,” you murmur.

camille raises her eyebrows. “why not? those guys stay outside all day, and we keep everything locked up day and night. literally, the only time the front door opens is for veronica to leave and come back from work everyday.”

“i don’t know. there’s no particular reason for it…it just seems like we’re waiting for something.”

“…yeah? for the killer to be caught.”

“but he’s made no moves recently. you remember the policeman’s daughter, right? i even texted her and she hasn’t heard anything new that we don’t already know. seems like things have slowed down at the police station. it’s not like that abandoned house was in the killer’s name or anything, so what leads would they have?”

camille frowns and rubs her eyes like something’s in them, but when she looks at you directly, you see her eyes are red from unshed tears. “…i want things to be okay, though. i’m tired of living like this. you know how i had to beg just to get my dad to let me leave the house. he’s constantly on edge.” you feel even more unsettled to see camille so distressed lately, as she’s always been the only one able to pull something funny out of a terrible situation—something enough to distract you from the horrors. “all i know is they’ll have to dig his ass out of some hole in the ground at some point. he can’t hide in this town forever.”

“yeah…i guess you’re right.” you still don’t feel reassured, but you don’t voice your doubts.

--

WEDNESDAY, NOV 22

“i think i might go mad,” camille says from her position on the armchair, her limbs splayed haphazardly across it and one hand stuck in a bag of chips.

you sigh. “you’re the one who wanted to watch this thanksgiving movie marathon.”

“the most mid holiday of the season,” jungkook adds.

“no one cares what either of you think, thanks.” it isn’t long before the program is over and the ending credits are rolling. with an exaggerated exhale, camille gets up from the chair and crunches the bag of chips in her hand. “i’m going to your room, y/n. you two just do whatever it is you do down here, since you hate my movie choices so much!”

“means we can finally turn the channel.” jungkook snatches the remote off the coffee table and does just that.

camille goes into the kitchen to throw out the chip bag and wash her hands. your focus returns to the TV. a few seconds later, you hear the upstairs flooring creak above the noise of the water pouring from the tap.

“what’s up, sis? i thought you were sleeping.” veronica is known to be a deep sleeper, so it’s not common for her to be getting up in the middle of the night. there’s no answer to your question. you glance upstairs, but your sister isn’t standing there; she isn’t standing at all, instead being carried by someone wearing an all-too familiar mask.

you scream as the killer tosses your sister over the stair railing. her torso has been sliced open from collarbone to navel, her body leaving a large splatter of blood on the floor where she lands. jungkook jumps to his feet but is momentarily immobilized as he gazes at your sister’s body crumpled on the floor. you slide off the couch and crawl over to her, still crying out, but there’s no life left to try and salvage.

the screaming brings camille rushing to the kitchen doorway. she can barely vocalize what’s wrong? before spotting veronica’s body and stopping in her tracks. in a moment that feels like it takes forever to pass, the killer pulls a gun from his waistband—you recognize it as one of the guns the policemen carry and realize he must’ve killed the bodyguard posted in the backyard—and shoots her in the chest twice.

“camille!” when you go over to where she’s lying on the ground, she is still alive but bleeding intensely and struggling to breathe. your knees slip in the blood that begins pooling around her. “shit, camille…p-please don’t die…” you press your hand against the wounds, but they’re bleeding so much that your efforts don’t help, and the pressure of your hand causes her more pain.

there’s the sound of a gunshot at the front door as the lock is blown off, and the door is banged open a few seconds later by the remaining bodyguard. he has virtually no time to fire off another shot before the killer is shooting him in the head first.

the killer throws the gun aside, taking his knife in his other hand and making his way down the stairs. “your sister left her window cracked open. i waited for days for a slip-up like that. see how much harm can come from a simple mistake? well, she was collateral damage anyway.”

even in your panic, it’s as if all your bodily functions freeze when you recognize the familiarity of the killer’s voice. camille reacts with a rattling gasp, but her body is becoming too weak for her to utter anything; all she can do is watch as the man stops at the bottom of the stairs and pulls his mask off.

“yoongi…” your voice breaks as you try to speak again, but nothing coherent comes out.

he drops the mask on the floor and brushes a hand through his hair. “i guess you weren’t expecting that. good. we kept it up ‘til the end.”

your lips form around the word we, but your vocal cords won’t cooperate. you twist around to look at jungkook, who is still standing by the couch.

the man who you’d gotten too close to for your own good and done so many firsts with, who’d promised you that he’d protect you and was even there for you on the day of lorelai’s memorial, looks at you now with eyes glowing from the thrill as his mouth twitches into a smile—small at first but growing into a full grin. “i almost can’t believe we staged all that shit and it actually worked. you really believed it all, y/n.

not all of those kills were hyung’s, of course...there’s no way i’d miss out on the best parts. you don’t know what it’s like until you kill a person for the first time. crashing cherry bomb was his idea, though. and lorelai was mine. that bitch would’ve kept you away from me, and i needed her gone for this kill to work.”

through tears, you finally muster up the strength to ask, “wh-why have you done this? that night…y-you mean to tell me none of that was real? being shot at—why would you—” your voice rises until you’re shouting. “you-you’ve killed so many people. what was the purpose?!”

jungkook’s smile fades somewhat as he pretends to think about it, acting like he’s reminiscing on wistful memories. “i realized that killing and fucking aren’t that different, y/n. the real ecstasy of it is in taking someone pure…and doing something to them that has never been done before, and can never be done again. there’s a certain eroticism in killing someone, stabbing them, entering them…it’s like sex in the most profane sense.”

“you’re disgusting,” you mutter, glaring at him through your tears. you can’t help but feel shame to think of the times you’d had sex with him. had he simply been imagining murdering you during those moments? it makes you want to throw up.

yoongi steps closer until he’s right in front of you and camille. “and as for me…i just enjoy it. practice really does make perfect. you wouldn’t believe how entertaining it can be to see someone beg for their life.” his lips turn upwards in a dark smile resembling jungkook’s. “but instead of raging at us, i think you have bigger matters to be concerned with.” yoongi gestures his knife hand to camille, and when you look down at her body, you realize she’s no longer moving.

you lift camille’s head up with your hands as if that could make her return your gaze, though you can find no sign of breathing or pulse. “god, no…” you scream in frustration, your hands slipping in her blood. you check once more and again for any signs of life, because there is just no possible way this could’ve happened, but there are none present. “please—i’m sorry…”

“time’s up.” yoongi grabs your arm and yanks you away from camille, jostling you to try to get you on your feet. you flail around in his grip, fruitlessly scratching at his arms that are covered by his thick jacket, before managing to elbow him in the groin with your frantic movements. “shit!” this causes him to loosen his grip, which is enough for you to scramble away from him, slipping in the blood as you go.

you make it to the other side of the room where the officer lies facedown—though there isn’t much left of his face from yoongi’s shot. you snatch the gun from the dead officer’s hand and point it in the direction of both men. the safety is already off; all you’d have to do is pull the trigger and kill either one of them right now. before you can act, yoongi uses his free hand to pull another gun from his waistband—his own.

“as i said before, i know how to take care of myself,” he says, flicking the safety off and aiming for you, though his stance shows he’s still in pain. “please don’t assume it’ll be that easy. do you even know how to shoot a gun?”

you and yoongi are at an impasse as you both point your guns at each other, jungkook looking on with casual amusement coloring his face. “fuck you,” you spit out. you remain hesitant to fire on him, knowing that even if you succeed, he could fatally shoot you at the same time.

“let’s not do it this way,” yoongi says, his voice low and soft in an attempt to be persuasive, though you just find it disturbing. “you were supposed to be a clean kill. a few stabs and it’d all be over. i’ll even let jungkook do it, since you seem to like each other so much. do you really want to be shot down like a dog like camille over there?”

“you and him can both fry in hell!” you shout.

yoongi glances over at jungkook. they both nod before yoongi hands the knife to him, and the younger man takes a few steps in your direction. you don’t know whether to point the gun at him or keep it trained on yoongi; your head is pounding with a headache that you’ve only just realized you have. “don’t come over here. stay away from me!”

you press your back to the wall as jungkook comes closer, inching towards your right side with his knife at the ready. you slide away from him as you keep your back against the wall. “hand it over, y/n. it doesn’t have to be like this.”

“hand it over and let you kill me? are you insane? you lied to me this whole time, you fucking piece of shit.”

jungkook scoffs and looks at yoongi as if to say can you believe this? “why wouldn’t i lie to you? you were always meant to die.”

he won’t stop coming towards you, and you’re running out of room to slide away from him. you grasp for anything to try to reason with him, though you know it’s futile. “you realize that if you kill me now and you conveniently survive, everyone will know it’s you? you’ve been living here for weeks, you jackass!”

“hyung and i have that covered. it’s not for you to worry about, considering you won’t be worrying about anything soon.”

jungkook lunges for you with the knife, thinking he can catch you off guard and overpower you. you scream and pull the trigger in your frenzied state of mind, shooting yoongi. the next few things seem to happen almost simultaneously:

you hear the crash of yoongi’s body hitting the TV stand and the TV falling to the floor.

you feel jungkook’s knife piercing your shoulder, causing you to fire a stray round into the wall from the unexpected burst of pain.

you hear another gunshot that’s not from you; you see and feel jungkook stumble into you, the knife sliding from his fingers and to the floor.

you realize that he’s been shot when his hand flies to the bullet wound on his lower back; he’d been standing in front of you, and yoongi meant to hit you, not him.

“jungkook!” yoongi’s shout is furious and regretful as he steadies himself on the TV stand.

trying to push the pain into the back of your mind, you clumsily grasp jungkook’s fallen knife and run for the stairs. more shots follow you and most of them miss but one, which strikes you in the thigh.  while you cling to the stair railing and try to regain your footing, you are suddenly staring mortality in the face and understanding with a freezing-cold clarity that you will die right now if you don’t do something.

your nervous system vibrates with fear and adrenaline as you tighten your grip on the police officer’s gun and shoot yoongi with it twice—in the same area he’d shot camille.

these last two bullets finish him off immediately. you don’t think it’s fair, with how camille suffered and bled and died in your arms. for a moment, you’re so outraged that you wish he’d come back to life so that you could kill him again. you’re torn from these thoughts by jungkook.

“you bitch…he was my only family after everyone else threw me away. do you understand? i’ll fucking kill you!” jungkook is nearly writhing in the ground from his upset and from the hurt of his injury; it frightens you that this same man is someone you once thought you could grow fond of.

you aim the gun for jungkook next, but the chamber is empty. either way, he currently has no weapon, which leaves you with a small chance to get away before he re-arms himself. throwing the gun away, you stagger up the rest of the steps while his screams continue echoing up to you.

you give no thought to the blood trail you’re leaving behind as you rush to veronica’s room and to the window yoongi had entered through. you begin squeezing yourself through, keeping your grip on your knife all the while, but your injuries make it difficult to move. a few more tears slip out as you try to balance your injured leg on the tree branch beneath the window, and the desperation of wanting to give up clings to you.

you hear jungkook’s heavy and limping footsteps coming up the stairs, and you attempt to hurry, but you’re only halfway out of the window. when he crashes into the room, it’s unnervingly easy for him to grab your arm and yank your body back through the window, uncaring of how you get scraped up in the process.

he jams you up against the nightstand with one of the kitchen knives to your neck to stop your movements; his harsh maneuver causes the objects on the nightstand to rattle. the nightstand’s edge digs into the backs of your thighs, the pressure causing your wounded thigh to hurt more.

“you want to know why i picked you?” jungkook hisses, the knife’s blade stinging your throat as it begins to break skin. “you were just another choice out of many, but i decided you’d be the first one that i’d fuck and kill.”

it’s painful to hear, but it angers you at the same time. “fuck you!” in your rage, you spit in his eyes. jungkook jerks back and the knife shifts from its previous position at your neck; you take those few seconds to grasp the alarm clock off the nightstand and crash it against his head.

“shit—!” he cries out, stumbling and grasping the side of his head. he tries to grab for you again, but you jump onto the bed and crawl away from him, your stomach lurching at all of veronica’s blood soaked into the sheets. you spot a small decorative glass bowl on the dresser—the one filled with little candies that you’d always teased veronica for, saying she was so much like a grandma handing out treats to her grandchildren. when your feet touch the ground again, you clasp your hand around it like it’s a lifeline and fling it at jungkook’s head as hard as you can, just as he makes it around the bed to your side. the shards cut his face when it breaks, slowing him down further as he grabs his slashed and bleeding face. one of his eyes is blinded from the blood and glass.

this will probably be your only chance while he’s struggling to gather himself. you rush towards him with the knife handle tight in both of your hands and drive the blade into the middle of his chest, putting all your strength into that movement—just as his own knife impales your abdomen.

you are both simultaneously struck from the shock of being stabbed, and it takes you a few long moments to piece your mind back together as the pain radiates throughout your body. jungkook groans when you shift the knife around in his wound as you pull it out, letting his blood flow out freely. his breaths become wet and rattling as he chokes on his own blood, the red fluid staining his mouth and dripping down to his neck. he jams his knife further into your wound in retaliation so that the handle is flush against your body, causing your head to spin.

“i-if i die, i’m taking you w-with me.” jungkook gasps with his remaining effort. his body starts to sag from its standing position as he weakens, his hand slipping from the knife handle. he loosely grasps the comforter with one hand as he collapses to his knees, his torso becoming soaked with blood and his head bleeding from your earlier hits.

you drop your knife and lean against the bed too, shifting your body to find a position that could lessen the pain, but it’s impossible with a knife lodged in your abdomen. you know enough to understand that you’ll bleed out faster if you remove it, though, so you resist the urge. “you can rot in hell alone, jungkook.” you watch him struggle for what feels like minutes before his breaths stop altogether and his body slumps to the floor. he is just a blur of clothes and blood through your tears. you’ve never felt so lonely in your life.

you have a thought to call 911, but you’re becoming more and more lightheaded from the blood loss, and you can already hear sirens approaching on your street. you figure one of your neighbors must’ve called after hearing the gunshots; perhaps the bodyguard sent for backup before he was shot. your rescue has come much later than you would’ve preferred—or maybe everything just happened much faster than it seemed. you can’t tell anymore.

you can’t tell anymore, and you no longer want to look at the carnage around you, and nothing makes any sense. so, you close your eyes to it all; and when you feel someone lifting you in their arms—this sensation is so familiar—and maneuvering you onto a stretcher, you allow yourself to relent to it and empty your mind of everything.

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[callmerainman]

in having ✨ideas✨ again, and this one’s very fluffy

could we maybe have a sinner! adam oneshot where the reader plays a mandolin and decides one day to play this song in a very low key attempt to impress romance the guy? and maybe adam’s all like “yeah it’s alright I guess” but he’s totally transparent.

please, and thank you

SHOW AND TELL | sinner!Adam x sinner!Reader

word count. 1.7k

tags. Adam being in denial, Reader plays mandolin, fluff, sinner!Adam, gn!sinner!Reader

a/n. aaaa sorry for taking so long! hope you'll enjoy this because the prompt was so cute and funny 😭

This could be a chance.

You rotate the wooden instrument between your hands. A mandolin, your musical companion for so many years. You would have never thought that one day you'd be using it for trying to pick up someone. Especially not the First Man, Adam.

It's "Show and Tell" night at the Hazbin Hotel. The monthly occurrence you never understood, because no one really ever showed anything worth talking about. Angel Dust would put on some of his old porn videocassettes, Husk a cheap bottle of booze that he'll come up with a story for right on the spot, and let's not talk about the time Cherri Bomb showed one of her most recent, newly advanced creations that almost blew the whole Hotel up to pieces.

Also, the last couple of months, Show and Tell night has been graced with the addition of Adam. When he set foot in the Hotel it was clear that he still didn't really believe in Charlie's project. He just didn't have any other options. But, after some time, a hint of comfort was starting to show on the arrogant fallen angel. He became tamer, more sufferable to be around, almost pleasing sometimes. At first, you thought that you would have never had anything to share with Adam. But then conversations started to flow in the common rooms, and you two started to hang out outside the Hotel, even opening up to each other.

Adam wasn't that bad. Adam was funny to be around. Adam was easy to talk to. And Adam was pretty and...

Oh. Oh!

You crushed hard. Denial was the first stage, because c'mon, that's Adam, the former leader of the Extermination, a sadistic bastard. But he was also the one to greet you first when you came down for breakfast in the morning, who sat next to you at dinner to have some small talk, and the one who laughed more at your jokes. You learned to accept your feelings, but then a new problem presented itself. How exactly do you pull Adam?

He was more interesting than you thought that you could ever be. Not to inflate his ego, but he was the First Man to ever be created. He named the animals of Earth, he has been around for so long that he has seen it all. And he had two knock out ex-wives! How could you even compete? He played the guitar and was in a rock band in Heaven. But then, remembering that information, you glanced over at the wooden mandolin hung up to a hook on the right wall of your Hotel room. Maybe Adam didn't like you, but he for sure liked music. And mandolin wasn't exactly his type of instrument, but you still had music on your side. Yeah, this could be a chance.

——

You and the other guests take a seat each on the couches and chairs of the common room. Adam is sitting right in front of you, your eyes interlocked for a second before you both look away. Geez your cheeks feel hot. Then here comes Charlie, waltzing in the middle of the circle traced by the seats, smiling happily as she announces Show and Tell night. She suggests Angel to go first.

"I hope it's something a little...different from your usual presentations" she proposes.

Angel cocks an eyebrow upwards "No miss, this is exactly what you're all thinking of".

Husk groans, dragging a paw down his face as Angel puts on one of his porn movies he starred in. You look everywhere but the screen, and this includes Adam. He's not paying attention, playing with his VPhone behind his crossed legs so that Vaggie won't notice and threaten him with her angelic spear. As you throw him quick glances throughout the night, you realize that he quite literally didn't pay attention to anyone, not even a second. Concern starts to build up in you. What if he doesn't even look at you?

Adam only intervenes when it's his turn, positioning himself in the middle of the circle with a loud sigh. He then rummages in his robe, and takes out his designated object.

"A bra?!" Cherri Bomb asks.

"Yeah" a sly smirk spreads on Adam's face "this is the first bra a chick ever threw at me during a show. The first of many, many bras"

"How the fuck did you even bring it down here?" you question, more worried about that circumstance than the origin of the underwear article.

"You don't know my ways" Adam replies.

He keeps rambling some more minutes about how he broke Heaven's record for bras thrown on stage, with the smuggest, biggest shit-eating smirk known to man. After he's done, he plops down on the couch again, ready to not listen to anything the next guests have to show. And he does, either by taking a nap or playing on his phone.

"It's your turn, (Y/N)!" Charlie announces, clasping her hands together.

Shit. You reach for the case resting near your ankles. You open up the hard cover and take out your wooden mandolin.

"You play instruments?" Angel Dust asks, surprised.

"Yeah, I practice everyday" you say.

Of course no one knew, because Adam always has his rock music and amps blasted on max and he obliterates the hell out of any sound from your Hotel floor.

"I used to play mandolin when I was alive, it was my first instrument. I thought that I might as well bring it down here with me".

"C'mon, play something!" Charlie encourages you, a bright smile sparkling on her adoring face.

Here comes the difficult part. You gulp, feeling your guts squeezing from nervousness. Because Adam is staring. Since Charlie called your name, you noticed that Adam had put down his phone and he's now actually paying attention to you, unlike how he did with everyone else. This is sending you over the edge. Out of embarrassment and excitement at the same time. Damn butterflies in the stomach. You just hope to not mess this up.

You stroke the chords with your thumb to make sure they're correctly tuned. You shoot Adam a quick glance. Still staring at you, nonchanlanty, but he's watching. Just like you planned. You take a deep breath, you position your hands correctly and then you start playing the mandolin. The tune is relaxed, dreamy, mesmerising as you pluck the strings with ease. Your fingers almost flow with the sounds coming out of the instrument. You make sure not to mess anything up. Your technique is flawless, so there shouldn't be any worry. What's worrisome is trying not to look at Adam too much. You do give him a few glances to check for any reaction, but this could lead to missing pieces. You take a deep breath and go on strumming. Finally, despite Adam's wanted but feared attention, you manage to relax and let the sweet serenade curl around the room. As the delicate melody unfurls, you notice Adam shifting, placing his chin in his palm as he gives you his undivided attention. Then, you signal the end of the tune by finger picking a calm, lingering chord progression. The second you put the mandolin down, an excited clapping of hands makes you jump on the spot.

"Bravo! Bravo! That was amazing, (Y/N)!" Charlie erupts.

You chuckle "Thanks, Charlie"

Your gaze shifts from Charlie to Adam. He was still staring, but something's different. Is he blushing? Are his pupils dilated? Or maybe is just the result of your delusional imagination. Maybe not, because even someone else noticed Adam's change in attitude.

"Sooo, Adam, whatcha think?" Angel Dust cooes, a pointy smirk curling on his face.

Adam snaps out of his state, his eyes shooting up at Angel.

"Uh?" he goes, defiant but at the same time confused.

"You seemed to reaaaally enjoy it" Angel inquires.

Adam's eyebrows shoot upwards, his lips tight and reduced to a thin line. Oh he's blushing.

"I ehm-" he stutters.

"Right!" Charlie is quick to interrupt him "What did you think about it, Adam? Share it with us!"

Adam looks at you for a brief moment. You don't say anything, you're probably as embarrassed as him. He breaks eye contact, scoffing.

"Yeah I don't know, whatever" he mumbles, crossing his arms in an attempt to look unimpressed.

His own body is betraying him. His foot rythmically tapping on the floor, his heart racing, his scrunched, nervous face and his cheeks now turned into a hot mess.

"You sure? Seems like Cupid hit you in the right spot" Angel elbows Cherri Bomb, who giggles "Your face looks as hot as me"

Adam grits his teeth, clenching his fingers around his clothed arms.

"Yeah!" Cherri Bomb intervenes "you need a hand? A cup of water? Some air? (Y/N), you broke this guy!"

Adam jumps in his own seat, pointing a furious finger towards Cherri and Angel who are laughing their asses off.

"Cupid didn't hit shit! I said that I don't give a flying fuck about (Y/N) and how fucking good they look when they play mand-FUCK!"

"Ooooh" Angel and Cherri sing song in unison, a devilish grin.

"Aww, Adam! That's so sweet of you!" Charlie chirps, genuinely proud of him.

Adam lets out a frustrated, anger-boiling growl before hurriedly getting up from his seat. His newly sprout horns grow bigger, his tail quivers and his wings puff. He starts to hysterically point at everyone in the room.

"You know what? Fuck this shit! Fuck this stupid Show and Tell night, fuck this Hotel, and fuck you, and you, and you, and fuck everybody! Except (Y/N)- no wait shit!"

And then, Adam punches the air and just storms off, leaving Angel and Cherri Bomb laughing behind him.

"Oh my God..." you whisper, incredulous as you rub your shoulders up and down with your hands.

Angel gets up and plops down on the couch next to you, leaning towards you with a smug grin.

"I dunno why would you hit that, but good job" he says, offering your a fist bump.

You let out a small chuckle before pounding Angel's fist.

Nailed it.

#hazbin hotel #writers on tumblr #hazbin hotel adam #adam #adam hazbin hotel #adam x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #vivziepop #hazbin hotel adam x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #adam x you #adam hazbin #hazbin adam #adam fanfiction

[sampsonstorm-critical]

So. I DID watch Hazbin Hotel. And oh boy. So I'm going to give my critique on the show.

"antagonists and supporting" Characters- A bit better than Helluva. Studio oversight curbed some stuff. The characters somewhat had their own personalities in their dialogue. Some characters I thought could be cut out. I'm sorry but Sir Pentious is one of them. He's too cartoony even for this universe. He's annoying on the level jar jar binx was in star wars. Same with Mimzy. I think they could've done much better with Adam, but they just made him a dude bro? I did like the Seraphim sisters. Lute was just a bitchy, cynical, anime antagonist. Nifty was a bit aggravating too on the same level as Sir Pentious. I liked Husk as a character. Lucifer being a crushed dreamer fallen angel was actually interesting however his take on his people that he rules? Now if he was actively choosing to punish them himself using hells tools, it would be one thing? But he just has depression??? I guess? After thousands of years? Instead of trying to reconnect with his daughter, he just Mopes??? Like a sad boy??? No. Sorry. You lost me. Cherry Bomb? Meh. She's pretty shallowly written.

Now!

Main Characters -

Charlie- I hate her. I hate how fucking useless she is. She's the main protagonist for fucks sake. Now if she started like this and actually got better as the story went along in season 1, then alright. But she just gets her ass kicked and daddy has to save her skin. Way to take away her independence as a character.

Vaggie- I like Vaggies premise, but I hate the way her arc is executed. And the fact that she lets Lute live??? I'm sorry? WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?! No way. No how. Someone like her from a military background, or hells backdrop would let someone as callous as Lute live.

Alastor - he's my favorite character but, it's not his show. And it feels like it is. I love Alastor, he's the only entertainment I get from this show for the most part.

Angel - he's a characature. He is a walking stereotype. I know many people like him including the hypersexuality. Angel dust unless written for plot specific purposes only, is a very selfish unredeemable person. I'm sorry. He's being raped, and he still sexually harasses other people, knowing how it makes him feel? Now this would be great if we weren't supposed to feel bad for him right away, because it would show how abused can become abusers even if they don't mean too. And that could've been part of his arc to becoming a better person. But no.

The Vs - I like Vox. He's written to be genuinely manipulative, charismatic, and intimidating. I like Velvet too. I wish we knew anything about her. Valentino is written to be a villain, but some of his more childish moments are a bit of a movie mood killer.

On to the show as a whole.

So the most hated part of HH. Episode 4s infamous sexual assault scene. - I actually think it was very raw. It was done in an artistic taste. And I DEFINITELY think that if it wasn't taken from a SA fetishizer, it would've sat with me better. I understand what they were portraying and as someone who's had friends, gay men from the aids crisis era who have been SA, I see it but it's not done well. The only instance it's done well is when Angel is shown in the studio with Valentino especially when he tells Charlie to leave.

The build up and pay off issue - the music for the most part was good. OUT OF CONTEXT. I. Context it pays off without building up the conflict. It just resolves immediately. And these aren't Saturday morning cartoon conflicts. These are deep seeded emotional traumas between people. They don't resolve within one episode. These types of conflicts should resolve in 3 part episodes to 1 season. Yet again the Helluva problem shows up. Setting up too many character arcs and plotlines that cannot be properly resolved in the time span.

The finally- it was. Hot. Garbage. What the fuck was Charlie wearing to fight???? What the fuck???? Seriously???? And Angel???? In his booty shorts??? And we're supposed to take the extermination seriously??? HA! No. I do like in the episodes leading up to the finally, where Charlie and Emily rise against Heaven. I think they should have kept going with that moment in the song "If hell is forever, then Heaven must be a lie". It was very powerful and undermined immediately with "the big reveal!" Yuck. And don't even get me started on how NIFTY is the one who killed ADAM! SERIOUSLY? I think it was actually cool to see Alastor get HIS shit kicked in and see him crack under the pressure for once. I DO NOT like how Charlie's daddy had to come and fight her battles especially seeling as how he could do it the whole fucking time for thousands of years????!

#helluva critical #helluva criticism #helluva critique #helluva rewrite #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel criticism #anti hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel critique #anti spindlehorse #anti helluva boss #anti vivziepop

[gabrielsbubblegumbitch]

✨Hazbin theories, headcanons, analysis and hot takes✨

Ask rules: I accept asks about canon characters (no oc/reader), including NSFW and dark stuff BUT if your ask is unnecessarily graphic, I might not post it to not make other followers uncomfortable. Though I never hesitate to discuss heavier themes, I also won't allow here any kind of romanticization or fetishization of such things. Additionally, please don't ask me about real-life psychological advice - I'm not qualified to give you one.

The Vees

Silly Vees headcanons

Random Vees stuff + Angel

Vees' verse in the Finale

Vees living together

Vees being silly pt 2: Electric Boogaloo

Vees biggest fears

What if Velvette or Vox owned Angel's soul

Vees and hellborns

Vees' love life on earth

Angel's relationship with Velvette and Vox

How Vees reacted to their hell forms?

Vox and Velvette as empolyers

What if one of the Vees died

Vox x Velvette

Vees with children

Vees' good qualities

Vees' public perception

Vees' birthdays

VoxVal

My silly VoxVal fanfiction + deleted scene

VoxVal being in love

VoxVal and voyeurism (feat. amazing Anon)

VoxVal being toxic

How did Vox and Valentino meet?

VoxVal killing each other

Competing for souls

VoxVal being sick

VoxVal and findom (not really mine but Anon's but it's too good to let it get lost)

Valentino

Valentino dx

Valentino licking Charlie

What happened to Valentino's antennae

Valentino's death

The one (1) thing Valentino knows

Alastor and Valentino

Valentino and Ronald Regan

Why fans hate Valentino so much

Cool crime uncle Valentino 1, 2

Valentino and drawing

Valentino's reaction to Huskerdust

Sub Valentino

Valentino + This is Love

Vox

Vox dx

Vox and gaslighting

Vox is irredeemable :3

Voxtek

Vox's death

Vox's sex life outside Valentino

Sub Vox

Vox and his TV head

Vox, Alastor and control

Vox and Angel Dust

Vox thoughts about Angel

Vox's attraction to men

Vox and Music

Vox's crimes

Vox and murder

More about Vox's crimes

Vox's demon form

Unethical body mods

Vox being booped to death

Vox and sa

Vox and Charlie

Velvette

Velvette dx

Velvette's sexuality

Velvette's rise to power

How Velvette keeps the Vees together?

Other characters

Adam

Alastor and dad jokes

Husk

Angel's father

Carmilla rant

HH characters and their D&D classes

Cherri Bomb

Vaggie was a human once

Bunch of Alastor headcanons

General

My writing advice

Vivziepop critical community

#hazbin hotel #vox #valentino #voxval #adam #velvette #the vees #husk

[bearw-me]

Hiiii!!! Would you mind doing headcannons / a fanfic where Husk has a crush on the reader and one day they ask him if they could cover being a bartender for a while to give him a small break (and to chat with Angel Dust and Cherri Bomb bc they are sitting at the bar too) and he agrees, not thinking that they would actually be able to make any drink or anything, but they actually end up being a phenomenal bartender (yet has never told or shown anyone until now), and it make him flustered as he has an even bigger crush on them now (which he thought was literally impossible). Thank youuuu!!!! 💖💖💖 (Also I love ur work 💖✨)

I cant describe in words how your request made me feel lmao! and thank you so much! ( i could talk about this dynamic all day ♡♡♡

𝐀 𝐅𝐞𝐰 𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐬 𝐔𝐩 𝐌𝐲 𝐒𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐯𝐞

𐐒 includes : husk x gender neutral! reader, cherri bomb, angel dust 𐐒 cw : drinking/mentions of drinking, swearing, fluff, mutual pining, reader and husk are flirting so hard smh 𐐒 summary : Husk could use a break from the bar, so you offer to take up the job for the rest of the night! 𐐒 word count : 1.7 k 𐐒 note : ah, husk + his drinks (guys! husk! with a bartender! is!) my heart is liquid now

The night sure was lively now that Angel Dust and Cherri Bomb came (literally) crashing through the front door.

You smiled, resting your head in your hands as you watched the two from the end of the bar. "Those two must be a handful for you," you teased, letting your eyes flit over to the grumpy old cat you adored.

He managed a smile, glancing over at the two who were downing shots like tomorrow didn't exist. "Yes they are," he mumbled.

"So why'd you come over here Whiskers? You know I'm still working on my drink."

"You know I gotta keep my customer's satisfied," his voice teased back- just as smooth as the whiskey he poured- how charming, you thought. "Can't leave you here all by yourself."

You nodded, feeling a blush creep over the tips of your ears and nose.

Although, you couldn't help but notice. . .

Husk, the charming gambling cat who bartended for the hotel, a cat you could've sworn- or hoped- wanted your attention most nights. . . stared at the pair across the bars edge with a tired eye.

You quietly followed his gaze, humming as you pondered the next move.

"Why don't you pour yourself a drink? On me," you slid your card over the polished wood, only to be stopped as soon as it hit the edge of the bar. Husk's fingers pushing gently against yours.

"It's bad luck for a bartender to drink on the job."

"Is that so? Sounds like superstition," you teased, sadly tucking the card into your pocket.

Doesn't usually stop him from doing it, you moped.

"Hey baby! You can buy me a drink, no strings of course!" Angel called over to you, bringing shameless attention to his chest and biting his lip.

The bar laughed with him, spirits deliciously high tonight now that the couple had joined.

You were glad for the change of pace, "You know what?" You pulled the card out again, raising three fingers so that Husk knew how much to pour "I will buy you that drink Angel."

Cherri and Angel celebrated by downing a shot each, the young overlord herself yelling into the air with glee at the score.

Your gaze lingered over to the two, the sounds of vodka and juice being poured next to you. "Husk?" you asked, not really turning to look at him.

"What's on your mind?"

You waited until the sounds of pouring stopped, little freckles of juice sticking to your hand. . . then you turned to him, a little unsure in what you were asking "This drinks for you."

With a gentle hand, you tried to stop him from sliding it over to you, and responded just as fast as his denial "Let me run the bar for the rest of the night!"

His confusion morphed into the classic doubtful Husk you knew: always keeping his guard up.

"Oh really," he rasped, leaning over the bar to hover right next to your face.

Maybe he was trying to intimidate you, or try to see through you. . . but you tried not to flinch at the challenge, watching his dark eyes narrow "And what do you get out of this?"

You shrugged, a dumb smile popping onto your lips "Time to sober up? How hard could it be?" you purred, relishing in the fact that Husk had recoiled from you.

Sitting across the bar, head cradled in your hands, smirking at him.

He sighed, letting his eyes roll "Alright, fine but-"

Before his sentence even finished, you were right next to him at the back of the bar, staring with a pep in your step at all of the liquors, juices, and garnishes he actually had back here.

"Hey I didn't say you could-"

"Sorry Husk," you pushed him out of the area, feeling a little unwelcome or foreign on this side of the bar.

I mean, you both did, but it wasn't an entirely bad feeling-yet.

"Heyy, the old kitty came to play with us!" Cherri teased, watching as Husk awkwardly took a seat next to the two.

"Finally!" Angel groaned, throwing an arm over Husk and pulling him into the fun.

"On second thought, I don't think this was a good idea," Husk unfurled himself from Angel's grasp.

"Come on Husk, you deserve a break!" Angel insisted.

"Yes! Here are the shots!" You laid the three previously poured shots onto the countertop, eagerly watching as Cherri and Angel picked theirs up, waiting for Husk to join them.

The old cat eyed the shot, the red liquid glimmering quite nicely against the bars wood-top, and back the the pair of smiling faces that awaited him "Fuck it, I could use a drink."

When he smiled, you felt it like your own, proudly watching as the unlikely trio threw the drinks back with a hiss.

"So, what'll it be guys?"

Cherri sighed, slinking over the bar with a devilish grin "Hate 'ta hound ya on your first day, but what can you make?"

You shrugged, the confidence of being behind the bar (and the previous drink you had) voiding any concerns or anxieties you would've had. "What kind of drinks were you thinking?"

"More fucking shots bitch!"

You smiled "Dirty hookers, jagerbombs, lemon drop shots. . . maybe a kamikaze?"

"Oh~" Cherri put a hand on her chest, feigning flattery, "Fucking all of 'em! And throw in a few snake bites for me!"

"Just the dirty hookers for me, doll."

The pair of deviants giggled, marveling at the bars newest bartender and talking to each other whilst you familiarized yourself with Husks' bar.

He keeps it well stocked, you thought. Speaking of which. . .

As you rummaged around for the appropriate bottles, you could feel a familiar burning at the back of your neck.

Husk was staring at you.

You blushed, trying not to make eye contact by busying yourself with this new found task. "What's with the face, Whiskers?"

You heard him grunt, "What was that?"

"What was what?"

"You an alcoholic or something?" he clarified, the sound of him running his empty shot glass against the table lying underneath Cherri and Angel's conversation.

You hummed, not really answering until you had everything set on the bar. Five shot glasses on either side, you took the two bottles in hand flipping them upside down with a smile.

The three watched with amusement as you flipped one bottle high up, counting in your head the number of ounces you were pouring with the other while catching the bottle just in time.

Husks stomach was doing flips, watching on with a mix of anxiety that you'd break something (or god forbid hurt yourself) and the fact that you were actually. . . laughing.

The alcohol in your hands, whiskey, rum, vodka- anything- flying between your hands with the debonaire smile on your face.

Every movement, every flip, every spin. It all looked-

Husk caught himself, throwing his gaze to the side and moping. Trying hard not to think about anything.

"Here you go!" You slid the shots over to the pair, sure that it'd keep them busy for a while. . . or at least a few minutes.

"So what'll it be, boss?" You leaned over the counter, solely focused on him now, with that smug smile on your face. . . or maybe you were still a little tipsy.

"Boss?"

"Sure," you shrugged "Your gonna pay me after right?" You laughed when his face dropped, assuring him it was a joke. "Come on Husk, its time for you to be served for once, what kind of drink do you want?"

He seemed to freeze, the little pieces of fur on the back of his neck standing up like he was full of static. "Anything, I just need a drink," he said honestly.

Back to the same tired Husk, you smiled, chest filled with warmth. He looked, or he seemed. . . well you didn't actually know. Did he like that you were behind the bar?

You grabbed him a bottle of beer, easily wrenching the bottle cap off with the metal opener.

Husk took it into his hands faster than you could set it on the bar, tipping the bottle back so far that the dark green glass shone in the hotels light.

"I guessed you really could've used that drink," you sighed, feeling a little guilty for not doing him this favor sooner.

"Chug! Chug! Chug!" Angel and Cherri caught on as Husk nursed his bottle to almost empty.

You smiled, albeit a little bittersweetly, and turned back to the bar in order to make him something you figured he'd like to try.

With new found 'confidence', Husk blearily eyed your back, a sinking, fluttery feeling growing in the pit of his stomach. Watching you clean the glasses, something he did all the time, it looked. . . magnificent when you did it.

The night continued without a hitch.

You watched from behind the bar as the three laughed. Yes, Husk was laughing, bottle in hand and letting Angel Dust push him around playfully, daring the two of them to come gamble with him sometime.

It filled your heart completely, he looked really good with a smile on his face. . . And every now and then you'd catch him staring at you, almost as if he were proud.

To be fair, the thought almost made you fumble a cocktail you were making for Angel Dust.

"You know, your pretty good at this," he complimented you, in that glorious drunken heaven he was in. The quiet purrs coming from him was enough to convince you of that.

"Here," you offered, sliding a small silver tray with two shots and limes on it his way "on me."

He chuckled, a deep rumbling sound as fine as the drinks he served you. "No, I couldn't drink two-"

"This one's for me," you pointed, taking the slim glass between your fingers.

"Drinking on the job is bad luck," he slurred.

"Are you kidding me? This is the best luck I've ever had! Come on," you insisted.

Husk's face, while already burning from the alcohol, was flush with nerves, a little smile on his face from the feeling it gave him. "Thanks."

#hazbin hotel #imagines #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin hotel x you #husk x you #husk x reader #husk x y/n #gender neutral reader #reader insert #drinking

[rainbowmothed]

︵︵ MISC. HAZBIN HOTEL HEADCANONS

╰ ⋯ ➢ just some random hcs i thought of off the top of my head!! ♡ as always, reblogs and likes appreciated! includes both main cast and heaven hcs. :3

𝜚 ₎ MAIN CAST HCS

Vaggie says stuff like “rad,” “dude,” etcetera unironically and definitely gets made fun of for it. Mostly by Cherri and Angel– Pentious says it is ‘hashtag trending awesome sauce.’

Vaggie sets 6 alarms in the morning, all with custom minute intervals between the snooze alarms to make SURE she doesn't sleep through it. Charlie doesn't mind, though, mainly because she wakes up at four in the morning to work on projects anyway.

Charlie has made playlists for everyone in the hotel on hell's equivalent of spotify; Vaggie's is the most well thought out, but they all describe them very well. Alastor never listens to it due to his dislike for modern technology/apps, but he appreciates it– or at least acts like he does– nonetheless.

Charlie definitely rides on Alastor's shoulders like a little kid bro IDC WHAT U SAY

Vaggie has cried ONCE in front of the rest of the hotel after being genuinely dogged on repeatedly on one of the worst days of her life, and they all just stared at her in shock. They hate on her so much because it never impacts her– or so they think so, because Vaggie always shrugs it off. They refuse to talk about it.

Vaggie's spice tolerance is unmatched.

Each night, Charlie visits Pentious’ memorial and wraps a weighted blanket around it, saying that maybe it'd remind him of the Egg Bois and the way they snuggled around him in the afterlife.

Vaggie is a huge Hunger Games fan. 90% of her personality derives from Katniss Everdeen.

Adding onto the last one, if Charlie and Vaggie were to have a child, I feel like it'd have the personality of Lucy Gray Baird.

Niffty definitely writes strange fanfiction. Also has BL as her header on the Hell's equivalent of Twitter. She's a little twisted, but we love her.

Cherri is an absolute menace. That is the best word to describe her.

Angel and Cherri did the “screaming in public restrooms” prank once.

Everyone assumed Charlie was mid-20s until she dropped the bomb that she's over 200 years old. They were all flabbergasted (minus Vaggie, who already knew. Angel also called her a “gilf lover.”)

Angel asked Vaggie about her body count once to tick her off, and she answered “around 1,000 or so, roughly estimated,” thinking he meant kill count. Charlie was shook.

Vaggie is a Paramore, Flyleaf, Evanescence, etcetera fan. Proud listener to 2000s emo girl music.

Charlie's guilty pleasure is punk/metal/rock music. She says she only listens to “Taylor Swift and musicals,” but she has a hidden playlist with KORN, PTV, and all of those bands on it.

Angel wakes Husk up by blasting Ayesha Erotica songs into his ear occasionally since Husk is a heavy sleeper and refuses to get up sometimes.

Pentious calls himself a “semi-proud father of the Egg Bois.”

Charlie ran a hate page about Katie Killjoy. She has since moved on from it... probably.

𝜚 ₎ HEAVEN HCS

Vaggie definitely played about 100 sports back in Heaven. Fencing, soccer, and, bare with me here, she definitely did ballet. She refuses to admit so, however.

The exorcists actually aren't brought into the world as adults. Instead, they're raised by volunteer parents of Heaven their entire lives, starting fighting training at age 6 or so. They claim that “children's brains are easier to mold.” Basically, they're taught to be murder weapons from a very, very young age. It's also instinctive, but it's the training that truly brings it out.

Each exterminator is based on a different bird breed, but the most common are eagles, falcons, hawks, and generally predatory avians.

The Exterminators are also very fast flyers, and they establish the quickest flyers through racing. Vaggie was formerly the fastest until she was cast down to Hell. Now, the fastest is Lute.

Adam also referees these races, and instead of a gun or whistle to start them off, he uses his guitar.

#vaggie #chaggie #charlie morningstar #hazbin hotel #rainbowmoth #vivziepop #varlie #charlie x vaggie #hellaverse #angel dust #angel dust hazbin hotel #huskerdust #hazbin hotel husk #husk #alastor #platonic charlastor #lute #adam #adam hazbin hotel #lute hazbin hotel #niffty #nifty hazbin hotel #sir pentious #hazbin pentious #egg bois #cherri bomb #cherri hazbin hotel #heaven hazbin hotel #hazbin exterminators #hazbin excorsists

[shadowjackery]

The Gladdest Thing Under the Sun

I honestly thought we were supposed to wait a couple of days after the zine’s release, but, heck, everyone else is doing it, so here we are: My contribution to @gensokyozine​ . I’ve wanted to do this story for a while, so I hope you enjoy!

Descriptive text for the visually impaired or for easy quotation:

PAGE 1

Title: "Shadowjack presents: The Gladdest Thing under the Sun"

Yuuka Kazami, a youkai woman, climbs the cracked stone steps to the ramshackle Hakurei Shrine. She carries a parasol. Up the wooded hill, through the pines, stand the shrine gate and two guardian komainu -- one of whom, Aunn, is alive and waving cheerfully, tail wagging. The plum and cherry trees atop the hill are in bloom. Dandelions sprout as Yuuka passes.

PAGE 2, PANEL 1

Title: "Yuuka Kazami, Flower Mistress of the Four Seasons"

Yuuka wears a summer outfit that evokes the mid-20th century: a vest over a short-sleeved blouse with a necktie, a knee-length pencil skirt, hose and heels, a handkerchief neatly folded in her vest pocket. She also wears glossy leather gauntlets and tight sleeve garters. Her hair is bobbed and curled in 1930s fashion. Her eyes are slitted, like a snake's.

She rests her head on her hand and gazes up at Reimu, rapt. A cat with black and white fur, spotted something like a yin-yang ball, lies nearby, watching her carefully.

PAGE 2, PANEL 2

Title: "Reimu Hakurei, Mysterious Shrine Maiden of Paradise"

Reimu, a human woman with a long ponytail, looks down at Yuuka, sweating slightly. She says, "Um... you know..."

PAGE 2, PANEL 3

Reimu wears her usual red-white shrine maiden robes and ribbons, much patched and threadbare. She is barefoot on the porch, holding a broom.

Reimu: "When you look at me like that, I get the feeling I'm about to be CUT and PRESSED."

Yuuka is shocked. "Oh, my! I would NEVER. A wild flower is best viewed in its natural habitat, always!"

PAGE 2, PANEL 4

Reimu, smiling: "I'm a wildflower?"

Yuuka, grinning: "One of the best!"

PAGE 3, PANEL 1

Reimu greets Yuuka at the entrance to her residence. Yuuka bows formally. She has brought a package, wrapped in cloth with a floral pattern.

Yuuka: "Ojama shimasu."

Reimu: "Hai, hai."

Reimu: "Everything is flowers with you, isn't it?"

Yuuka: "It could hardly be otherwise, dear! I am what I am."

PAGE 3, PANEL 2

Yuuka takes off her shoes, while Reimu places the parasol on the weapons rack by the door. The top shelf holds scrolls, boxes labelled "needles" and "seals", and one Mk 2 hand grenade.

A large sign by the rack says in printed text, "Check ALL weapons before coming in! Including but not limited to: Swords, Axes, Bows, Spears, Guns, Wands, Staffs, Parasols, Lasers, Bombs, Poisons, Curses," and so on.

A handwritten post-it note has been tacked to it, saying, "SEIJA -- Do NOT obey this!"

Another, ripped and faded sign has been taped by the list, adding, "MARISA -- Whatever it is now: NO. I mean it."

There is a bullethole next to the sign.

A different yin-yang cat watches Yuuka.

Reimu says, "So what kind of flower is Marisa?"

Yuuka: "She reminds me of pampas grass."

Reimu: "?"

Yuuka: "One of a few varieties of cortaderia, somewhat resembling susuki."

PAGE 3, PANEL 3

The two women go inside where there's more shade.

Yuuka: "It's a fast-growing, invasive species that can contribute to rat infestations and dangerous wildfires."

Reimu, laughing: "A WEED!"

Yuuka: "But charming in its way."

PAGE 3, PANEL 4, OFFSET

Somewhere, Marisa sneezes.

PAGE 4, PANEL 1

In Reimu's kitchen, the two together prepare afternoon tea, while two different cats beg at their feet. Reimu pours hot water from a large kettle into a cast-iron teapot. Yuuka takes down bowls and cups, and opens up the Japanese-style lunchboxes she brought.

Yuuka has put on an apron that parodies the "piyo piyo apron" worn by Kyoko in the manga "Maison Ikkoku", but instead of a drawing of a baby chick on the chest, it has a drawing of a Dragon Quest slime, saying "suu suu".

Reimu: "You aren't bothered she stole the Master Spark from you?"

Yuuka: "Oh, Marisa didn't steal it from me! She bargained for it fairly."

Reimu stops what she's doing to turn toward Yuuka. "Bullshit."

Yuuka: "It's true! I was curious to learn a little magic, and in exchange for lessons I agreed to trade her a cutting."

Reimu: "Huh!"

Yuuka: "I don't mind helping another gardener to improve their art. She makes it bloom well, doesn't she?"

PAGE 4, PANEL 2

Yuuka carries a tray of sandwiches and snacks out of the kitchen.

Yuuka: "Besides... to cast it ONCE, she needs a device."

A surprise second Yuuka, with long hair, and wearing trousers instead of a skirt, whisks the teapot and cups from Reimu's hands, leaving Reimu with nothing to do.

Yuuka, the second: "But I by myself can cast it TWICE."

PAGE 5, PANEL 1

Only one Yuuka again. Yuuka and Reimu kneel on the veranda to take their tea. One yin-yang cat nearby sprawls asleep in the sun, an orange tabby circles curiously, and a third cat sulks by Reimu.

Reimu: "Okay, then how about... Alice?"

Yuuka: "Ohhh... Alice is special. With her pride and ingenuity, she bears the seed of great potential for power."

PAGE 5, PANEL 2

Yuuka beams with enthusiasm. She says, "Why, if one could but prune away a few of her mortal failings -- such as 'restraint' or 'mercy' -- she could make a truly MARVELLOUS youkai!"

We can now observe that Yuuka's necktie is not knotted, but instead held by a silver woggle marked with a "lily of the valley" emblem.

PAGE 5, PANEL 3

Yuuka blushes happily. "She might even be stronger than I. Wouldn't that be an interesting day?" A heart floats in her words.

Reimu tries to hide her concern. She thinks, "Ganbatte, Alice-san..." But only says out loud, "...er, uh... and Yukari?"

PAGE 6, PANEL 1

Yuuka grins wolfishly. "Yukari and I have an arrangement: She doesn't meddle in my garden, and I don't BURN DOWN hers."

Reimu: "Isn't it weird that a youkai of FLOWERS is so good at fighting?"

Yuuka: "I'm surprised to hear that from a Japanese!"

Reimu: "You say that like you're not."

PAGE 6, PANEL 2

Yuuka: "I am known in many lands, by many names, wherever flowers grow."

Yuuka narrates the scene from the foreground, wearing a woman's kimono and lacquered okobo sandals. She carries now a Japanese-style paper parasol. Her hair is tied up in a bun with a cherry-blossom kanzashi, and she wears a sunflower hair ornament. She is surrounded by flowers: chrysanthemum, hollyhock, and birthwort, and above her spreads blooming sakura.

Yuuka: "Did not your own samurai describe themselves as cherry blossoms, and fight for emperor and shogun under the banners of the chrysanthemum and hollyhock?"

In the midground, two armored samurai clash. The lower-status one has fallen to the ground; the richer has a bloody slash across his left eye. He swings his sword and chops the grounded man's spear in two, but the other is undaunted.

In the background, an army of horse and foot mounts the top of the hill, banners billowing.

PAGE 7, PANEL 1

Now Yuuka narrates wearing a huipil dress with embroidered shawl, and simple leather slippers. Her hair is done in buns, with a Mexican sunflower by her ear. A hummingbird flies near her. Growing around her are Aztec marigold, dahlias, banana yucca, and Mexican hat flowers.

Yuuka: "Across the sea to your east, the mighty Mexica gathered their 'hummingbird' soldiers to send to the 'Flower Wars' (they named them) to gather honor, blood, and sacrifices."

In the midground, the fighters are now two Nahuatl, one poor, one rich with a slashed left eye. The poorer one wears only a loincloth, and has a shield slung over his shoulder. His shield is painted with a hummingbird design, and from it hang a few feathers. The richer soldier wears a full-body jaguar costume, and wields a macuahuitl war-club. The poor soldier leaps to his feet and tackles his enemy, disarming him.

In the background, an army of Aztecs battle below a stepped pyramid and high mountains.

PAGE 7, PANEL 2

Now Yuuka narrates wearing men's doublet and hose, embroidered with fleur-de-lis and tulips, along with knee-high riding boots and gauntlets. Around her neck is a sunflower pendant. On her shoulder perches a falcon. About her feet, and entangling the narration boxes, are red, white, and yellow roses.

Yuuka: "And to the far west, the lords of the English struggled for a choice of kingly roses, red Lancaster or snowy York."

In the midground, the fighters are now two Englishmen, again one poorer, the other richer with the eye injury. The poorer soldier has some mail pieces and a simple brimmed helmet; the richer has plate armor, a full helm, and a shield. The rich fighter is overthrown, his foe about to stab him through the visor with his own arming sword.

In the background, mounted knights charge a line of archers behind wooden stakes. A church or fort stands on hills in the far distance.

Yuuka: "Flowers and War have always been intertwined."

PAGE 7, PANEL 3

We return to Reimu's veranda and cherry trees.

Reimu: "You've seen so many strange places... Do you have a favorite?"

Yuuka: "...it was in the west, in Flanders, perhaps a hundred years ago."

PAGE 8, PANEL 1

Yuuka invisibly narrates: "Such a war, Reimu! The men burrowed like moles, or took to the air like kites."

Above barbed wire, two airplanes spit tracers at each other. It is World War One.

PAGE 8, PANEL 2

Yuuka: "They plowed the earth with cannon, night and day."

Shirtless German artillerymen fire their gun amid sandbags. Something explodes close by.

PAGE 8, PANEL 3

Yuuka: "They slew by shot and poison, fire and blade."

A gasmasked French soldier, armed with pistol and entrenching tool, cautiously moves down a trench. An unseen enemy waits around the corner with rifle and bayonet.

PAGE 8, PANEL 4

Yuuka: "And for no purpose that I could see, no treasure nor slave."

Barbed wire and ruined buildings.

PAGE 8, PANEL 5

Yuuka, narrating: "The destruction was so maniacal it seemed no tree, no blade of grass, would ever grow there again. I thought you humans had gone absolutely mad!"

Yuuka, wearing colorful hat, coat, and umbrella, stands on a windy no-man's land, surrounded by dull mud and broken pieces. Tracer fire crosses the sky, coming from a distant machine-gun nest. She notices, but does not bother to avoid, the few bullets that land near her.

Yuuka, narrating: "But it was I who did not understand your passion. When I learned your true intentions, I was deeply humbled."

PAGE 8, PANEL 6

Yuuka, narrating: "Did you know, Reimu? You can find graves in the wild by how the flowers grow. (Bone meal makes such good fertilizer.)"

The corpse of a soldier lies upon the ruined earth. But near his outstretched arm, a single bluebell, and a few patches of grass, have sprouted.

PAGE 8, PANEL 7

Now there are no bodies, but grass and wildflowers and bumblebees cover the ground. A shattered helmet has a flower growing through the holes.

Yuuka, narrating: "I tell you that after this great war, those fields FLUORISHED with color. Rainbows spilled on seas of green grass!"

PAGE 9

Yuuka, narrating: "And ever after, all through those lands, the people wore blood-red poppies, to remember and give thanks to their kindred who slept below, for this sight they had worked so hard to create."

Yuuka wears early-20th century men's hunting clothes: a sturdy jacket and breeches with knee-high boots and gloves. Her curled hair is in a loose pompadour. As ever, she has a parasol. The sun shines warmly. The hill Yuuka walks down is covered in grass and bright red poppy flowers, stretching on forever. The plants almost completely cover a few remaining pieces of military hardware: a broken machine-gun, a lost helmet, a twist of barbed wire. Yuuka smiles.

Yuuka, narrating: "Tens of thousands of men willingly buried themselves for nothing better than the GLORY of FLOWERS!"

PAGE 9, PANEL 2, INSET

We return to Reimu's veranda. Yuuka clutches a handkerchief, almost overcome with romantic tears.

Yuuka: "It was the most beautiful thing that I have ever seen!"

Reimu stares at her and says nothing.

PAGE 10, PANEL 1

Yuuka says, "Excuse me!", wipes her tears, and takes out her compact to redo her makeup.

Reimu thinks, "Yuuka is one of my oldest friends, but she really is a monster, isn't she? I don't even know how to BEGIN to explain the truth to her... or if I even should."

PAGE 10, PANEL 2

Title: "FLOWERS appearing in this story."

Many cut flowers are arranged on a wooden surface, with identifying captions. In no particular order, they are: primrose, fleur-de-lis (yellow iris), common sunflower, anemone, dandelion, Mexican sunflower, tulip, rose, cempoalxóchitl (Aztec marigold), dahlia, banana yucca, Mexican hat flower, pineapple sage, bee orchid, celandine, Flanders poppy, lily-of-the-valley, bluebell, daffodil, kiku (chrysanthemum), aoi (birthwort), hollyhock, ume (Japanese plum), and sakura (Japanese cherry).

PAGE 10, PANEL 3

In a simplified art style:

Reimu pats Alice on the shoulder and says, "Alice, we sure attract some weird ones, don't we?"

Alice wears her usual workdress and hairband, but also has sturdy explosive ordnance disposal goggles and gloves. She is inserting a stick of dynamite into the back of a Hatsune Miku doll. Other dolls and marionettes (and one teddy bear) fill the room, all with visible dynamite fuzes sticking out of their heads, and all with glowing eyes.

Alice says, "Don't disturb me when I'm setting the explosive charges! If they went off, they could hurt the dolls."

Reimu: "...This is why she likes you, you know."

Alice: "?"

END

#fan comic #touhou #yuuka kazami #reimu hakurei

[tenderlady]

Hi there! A while ago, you said in your tags to this post that you believe David Lynch would be one of the best suited directors for making a movie about the Beatles. What can I say, I've been thinking about this ever since, vaguely-yet-passionately agreeing, without putting my thoughts into actual sentences...Would you mind elaborating?

You ever get an ask so good you have to break out your laptop to type up your thoughts with greater alacrity?

My friends and I have this concept that we call "trapdoors," which are basically concepts or things that, if brought up in conversation, will cause whoever is talking to you to tumble into an abyss of information that you are duty-bound to provide. Beatles biopics happen to be one of mine, so if you would like to join me in the abyss, the trapdoor is under the cut.

I actually have a few working directors that I think would do a great job with a Beatles movie, including Sofia Coppola, Peter Greenaway, Park Chan-wook, and even, potentially, Martin Scorsese. But the more I think about it, the more convinced I am that the best-suited director working today for making a Beatles movie is actually David Lynch.

I think a lot of this ultimately comes down to what you want from a Beatles biopic, and what you haven't liked about Beatles movies in the past. For me, I'm tired of Beatles-biopic-as-hagiography and I want more stories that approach them as fully-rounded people. And one thing that is very specific to me personally is that I'm interested in the moments when the Beatles story has occasionally tilted toward the magical and mysterious, for lack of better phrasing. So an ideal Beatles biopic, for me, would be one that is dedicated to showing the Beatles themselves as holistic human beings and doesn't shy away from showcasing their bad behavior, but also one that is concerned with portraying those magical realist elements that I find so fascinating.

Enter David Lynch. Lynch has a well-documented fascination with the pop culture of the mid-20th century and an interestingly sumptuous eye toward production design (I'm thinking about the ambiguously midcentury setting of Blue Velvet in particular here), so I think at the bare minimum, if he were to make a Beatles movie, it would look right. But I'm more interested in Lynch's directorial choices and pet themes than I am in how his films look.

Much of his work is concerned with fame, be it the attainment of it or what it means to have it (ex: Mulholland Drive, Inland Empire), and also with the production of art and what it does to our psyches to create (ditto the above examples). These themes would obviously come to bear in any serious film about the Beatles, but I think David Lynch has historically had interesting things to say about these topics.

Lynch's films (and work in general) often veer into horror in their sudden depictions of graphic violence and sexuality, but that would actually be a more realistic depiction of the Beatles' history than most of what we've gotten. I think a gritty, Wild at Heart-style Lynch movie about Hamburg could be very fun. The leather and the 50s and the weird sex stuff of all of it is very Lynch, but all very true to the reality of what the Beatles' lives were like. Their story is full of these seemingly random spurts of violence (Stu getting kicked in the head, the Bob Wooler incident, the cherry bomb at the concert, John's murder, George's stabbing, just to name a few), to the point where reading about them can feel occasionally Lynchian in itself.

For me, though, the biggest draw of having a Lynch-directed Beatles movie is what Lynch is best known for, which is that dream-(or nightmare) feeling that so much of his work has. Something that drew me to the Beatles as an overeducated adult with lots of music listening behind me now is this strange sense of the mystical that hangs over so much of the Beatles narrative. The story of Paul's premonition of the dream with the gold coins, the John and Paul being mirror images of each other, people in the Beatles circle being visited by dead loved ones in their dreams, John and Paul claiming to have SHARED dreams, the whole Emperor of Eternity thing; like I could go on and on and on. These stories are all so fascinating, but often get underexplored in the (legitimately) very rich text of the Beatles story, so I get it, but I also know that Lynch would see these moments and do something really fucking cool with them.

Primarily, I see a Lynch-directed Beatles biopic going one of three ways: a Blue Velvet-style gothic set during the Beatlemania years about a naive black-Irish twink biting off more than he can chew in the pursuit of fame. David Lynch loves doubles and doppelganger imagery (Mulholland Drive, Twin Peaks, Inland Empire....), so I think he would get a lot of mileage out of the matching Beatle suits and haircuts and all the merch with their likenesses on it. I also want to see some real horror mined out of the hiding in meat vans and getting mauled by girls with scissors trying to cut off your hair for relics. Shit is crazy.

Option two would be a Mulholland Drive-style psychological horror set during the height of the Beatles' Swinging London decadence, like around 1967, potentially including India. It would definitely 100% include the Emperor of Eternity acid trip and would be primarily focused on the strange relationship and identity sublimation between John and Paul. Again, Mulholland Drive-style. Gayest potential option imo.

The last option, and the one that makes the most sense with where Lynch is in his career rn, is a Twin Peaks: The Return-style meditation on nostalgia and memory and time. I think this one would probably be getting a little too close to the present day to be feasible, but I think a lot could be done with the idea of current-day Granddude Paul constantly seeing reproductions of his own younger self and dead friends and lovers everywhere he goes. As much as I love Now & Then, the whole thing does how a weird techno-gothic, Black Mirror sheen to it, one that I think Lynch would recognize and have something to say about. Would this make Paul Coop and John Laura Palmer? Hard to say and much to unpack there, but still.

Regardless: I think David Lynch is the only one out there doing it in a weird, fucked-up way that the Beatles would deserve. (Also he literally got into transcendental meditation because of the Maharishi, so there's definitely some six-degrees-of-Beatles happening there lmao)

If you read all of this, thank you, and I'm sorry, and here is a picture of Kyle MacLachlan as Paul from the David Lynch Beatles biopic that is currently screening in my heart for your trouble

#thanks for the question love!! #i hope this was even remotely close to what you were looking for!!! #i have Much To Say on this topic lmao #lynchian beatles

[qu1cks1lversb1tch]

Aw those best friend hcs were fun! Can you do everyone else at the hotel? Especially Vaggie?

A/N: I absolutely can! I'll make a part 3 or edit this one if I somehow forget someone (it could happen). This is quite the little grouping 🤣 I hope you like it!

Having them as best friend's part two:

Includes: Vaggie, Sir Pentious, Niffty, and Cherri Bomb.

Part One

Vaggie

Her deal is tough love.

As her best friend, you're used to being called an idiot half a dozen times a day.

You'll just be chilling after making some decision or saying something and she'll be like: "Not only are you blind, you're fucking stupid too!" But it wouldn't hold any malice

She's never really been one for gossip, but you can bet that she'll listen to how your day was.

Definitely the friend who would interrogate anyone you show interest in.

If someone says something out of line about you, she's putting them in their place before you can open your mouth to defend yourself.

Vaggie isn't very touchy, but she'll hug you sometimes. Especially if it was something like after the battle and she was just happy you were alive.

She's almost always there to ward off the bad.

Sleepovers! They're never her idea, but she can't say no when you give her those puppy dog eyes.

Really, she's always there for you, but with a sibling dynamic that makes some question if the two of you really tolerate each other at all. You do, but barely lmao.

Sir Pentious

He's a drama king. Sweet, but definitely dramatic.

100% the friend to hold your drink at a party. . . Because he's HOLDING EVERYONE'S DRINK!

If you had to go anywhere, he's sending the Egg Bois with you. They call you 'not master' and it's the cutest thing ever.

Sleepovers would be his idea, no doubt. An offer that couldn't be refused.

He calmly interrogates any potential suitors of yours, and if they seem fine, he might let them go on a date with you.

Will literally cry if you call someone else your best friend. Friend's are okay. But if you called Angel Dust or Charlie your best friend? Immediate tears. "But. . . I thought I wasss your besssst friend." Apologize, right now.

Gives you some new weaponized invention and your favorite Hellish sweet treat every year on your 'death day'. He takes it very seriously.

He's all for the tea, but only if there's 100% truth behind it. Like you witnessed the HOTTEST tea of the month and just went 'Sir P NEEDS to know'.

Everyone mistakes the calmness and caring nature of Sir Pentious as having feelings for you. Common misconception. That's just your slithery best friend.

Y'all take naps together at random because you can. And naps are life.

Niffty

You're almost as chaotic as she is, but you're better at hiding it. Sorry not sorry.

Because of her, everything you own is cleaner than when you got it and you found it disturbing at first, but eventually got used to it.

She climbs you like a tree and uses you to see better in large crowds.

She talks so fast half the time you could barely understand her until it clicked and you could reply.

She's very knife happy. Someone breaks your heart? "STAB! STAB! STAB!" Followed by maniacal giggles and her footsteps down the hall.

She tries new recipes and uses you as the taste tester to see if the others would enjoy it. The answer is usually yes.

Niffty is super blunt. She won't hold back a single thought, even if it could potentially hurt your feelings.

She rarely takes breaks, but when she does, her small frame is usually beside you, watching TV or relaying the latest drama she heard on the streets.

She's a good listener, but once again, she's also blunt.

Every picture of the two of you, she has that same far away look in her eye. Every. Single. One.

Cherri Bomb

She's a bad influence, that much is certain, but no amount of peer pressure could get you to do something you didn't want to do. That's why you're best friends.

She loves partying and dragging you out, but most nights, you stay in, which then in a way, forces her to stay in too.

"[Y/N/N], you bitch, why aren't you dressed? I thought we were going out tonight!" No. No you weren't.

She encourages you to step out of your comfort zone 24/7, because you're in Hell and it could only get so much worse.

She listens, but doesn't really pay attention all that much. There's almost always something else on her mind, but she makes it up to you somehow.

She'd probably push you down the stairs for fun if she felt like it.

Most likely to sing karaoke with you, absolutely plastered in a bar somewhere on the outskirts of the Pride Ring.

If you handed your cup to her to go to the bathroom, she'd probably misunderstand and drink it.

Glares at anyone who looks in your direction, purely because she doesn't trust very many at all.

Would reluctantly agree to a sleepover if you asked, just because you're her main bitch.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #vaggie #sir pentious #niffty #hazbin hotel imagine #egg bois #cherri hazbin hotel

[hisui555]

Hazbin Hotel thoughts

"How are they with kids ?"

Hazbin Hotel Bonus 1 (Hell cast + drawings of them) here

Hazbin Hotel Bonus 2 (Heaven cast + babysitting + drawings of them) here

Masterpost here

Something popped into my mind and I thought I'd share. A good while back, there was a stream (Hunicast I think ?) where the question "How good are they with kids ?" was asked, and suddenly that same question entered my mind about the villain characters :

What about the Vees ?

We know how some of the Hazbin crew would interact (if it's still canon) with children : Angel is the "friendly irresponsible" type - would never harm a child but would bring them to inappropriate places. Husk is actually surprisingly good with kids, knows how to distract them, catch their interest (it helps that apparently he knows magic showman tricks) and just plain care for them. Alastor is more distant and a bit behind the times in terms of discipline - he'd slap a kid if they were being a little shit, but won't harm them otherwise, even if scaring them for life isn't off the plate, and be generally decent if maybe annoyed. Vaggie if I remember right isn't comfortable with children, probably because she'd feel in over her head and has a short-ish fuse.

I don't remember what was said about Charlie (if anything was said at all), but my bet would be that she'll infantilize them a great deal - like treating a 10 y-o like a barely-able-to-walk toddler, with huge amounts of coddling and babying (all in all, not that far from how she treats Sinners). For Cherri, I don't think she was brought up (or my memory is failing me), but again, my personal bet would be that she'll be "friendly irresponsible" like Angel, but cranked up : sure you can throw that bomb, it's fun ! Just remember to let it go in ti- aww, c'mon, don't cry, yes your eyebrows will grow back. I know what'll cheer you up : wrecking that building !

But, yeah, what about the Vees ?

Well, here are my thoughts :

Vox would have the personality to deal with a child, but not the skills. He'd keep that CEO everything-is-fine-just-as-planned smile plastered on, and give Polite Interest (TM) to whatever squiggly drawing is pushed under his non-existent nose, listen with only one hearing sensor while 15 other tabs are open in the background of his brain, Wii music playing optional, analyzing graphs and stats while complimenting that pretty dragon pic ("It's a unicorn !" That pretty unicorn pic as he said) or distractingly commenting to the kid rambling ("I almost fell in a well yesterday." "Mh-hm." "I could've died." "That's wonderful, dear.") and spouting facts (unless about sharks. THAT gets his attention - one of the only times it's genuine and 100% and did I show you my pet Vark ?). He'd be generally patient (when your boyfriend is Valentino, kids are nothing next to that) and treat it just like one of his interviews, hypnosis included (Why won't you go for a nap, hm ? For the fifth time today ?) because like I said : skills ? Nuthin'. He'd be unable to wrap his flat-screened head about a kid's needs or why they cry, being unable to differenciate a "I'm hurt" from "I'm hungry" or "I'm scared" from "I'm sad because I'm missing my teddybear", so he'll go trial-and-error.

He'd be the type of babysitter that doesn't really interact much with the kid, letting them be, only keeping an eye on them while multitasking (cameras, right ?) and/or letting them play around him, as long as they don't cause a structural fire, fall in the shark tank, stick weird things in power outlets or bite the cables. Even better, stick them in front of a TV show and leave them there, only checking from time to time, with a pat on the head and a pinch of the cheek for good measure, calling them "dear", "darling", "squirt" or "champ" - but rarely, if ever, by name - as an afterthought, filling that "bare minimum affection" quota on the check list. Won't harm the child, because What Do You Think It'll Do For Our Image first, and not inclined to resort to that second, but if inspired will use the hell outta them (Voxtek ! Presenting new child-approved Vloops cereal ! New Voom flavor for kids ! Trust us with your children's happiness and diabetus !) and get ratings. In general, decent in personality and watching this mancub fumble around with semi-amused interest, like one takes a coffee break from work to check memes. Knows that getting angry won't help squat, so keeping the ankle-biter distracted and out of his hat is his way of dealing with it if he can't make more money out of them.

Velvette on the other hand would be the complete inversion : good child-handling skills, bad personality. She will immediately know what's up and pinpoint the exact issue no problems, but generally doesn't have the patience to deal with a kid. She'll stick the child in a corner with two toys within a chalk outline of three square meters at best and tell them to stay there, I'm busy putting together a show, dammit, I don't have time for you. Might be mildly verbally abusive, at best quite snippy. She has her fare share of frustrations and annoyances with stupid employees and stupider tantrum-throwing pissbabies, no need to add another one. Complains the whole time about the ordeal on her phone and social media between two shoots. Expect Mordecai Heller (Lackadaisy) levels of art critique each time a drawing is shown to her, and will deal with tears or tantrums by throwing the convoited item at the kid - the sooner it goes away, the faster she can go back to her business. Type of babysitter to be in another room and rarely check on the kid, telling them to shut up, stop singing or play less loudly, she's in the fucking middle of something here. Will make it VERY CLEAR to people asking that no, hell's sake, she won't babysit for long, today is just an unavoidable exception. Ignore the brat, folks, it's like a wallflower : decorative and useless.

Might incorporate the kid into her show or photoshoots (especially if Vox slipped her the idea to use the kid) to sell new fashion trends and as a child model, generally for cutie points and the attention it provides, especially if it makes people green with envy. Might still not call the kid anything other than "brat", "midget" and "shrimp", and you better strike that pose right and face the camera the proper way. However, food and naptime is provided right on the dot, and if left to play in a room, the room itself is not bad at all, and Melissa will be asked to keep an eye on them, nope, no raise, just do it or else you're fired. Might dump the child to Vox or Valentino whenever possible, or keep them around as a glorified clothing prop she fusses around, adjusting that bow, straightening those folds. Might also soften a bit if the child is very well-behaved and shows an interest in what she does, calling her designs cool and her style pretty, and not asking lots of questions.

Now, Valentino. And here's the thing : he'd be very good with kids. Which to any outsider makes it "awww", but for anyone who really knows him ? Absolutely TERRIFYING. This sweet voice and cute nicknames ("cariño", "cariña" - hope I got it right - name nicknames, cooing and practically purring it out), propping them on his hip, parading around, and would you look at that, aren't those pretty lights ? That's right, they're from the spotlights ! Wouldn't you like to look ? while pinching cheeks and booping noses and poking at ribs, promising a candy bar or lollipop if they behave nicely for "uncle Val", and everyone else who has been on the receiving end of this in a WILDLY different context just shivers with fear. And that's the worst : he'll be decent to kids, adorable even (nevermind consciously playing up the endearing points), and still be able to sent that cold death glare and smiling rictus over his shoulder to his employees so that they better get in line for work already. Kid will only see the surface, super-nice moth guy with fluffy wings showing them around and everything, others (the ones with morals) see the monster underneath and really do hope children aren't on his pimp radar. And Val will let them keep guessing, because pragmatically, the imaginary-but-still-implied threat works very well, and he has no interest in someone that's no fun to break, unlike adults who are much more satisfying to bring to their knees : the higher they are, the harder they fall, and the resulting control is just gratifying. Even Vox will be queasy about it at times, but hope he knows Val well enough and choose to ignore it (as long as nothing Harms The Image) and go back to business, Velvette is grateful for Valentino's babysitting skills, but if Val is in a bad mood ? Better drop the kid at Vox'. Becoming a casualty to Val's tantrums is a low chance for a child, but let's not damage the PR along with the brat, shall we.

I don't think Valentino would censor himself around the kid, even if he'll be decent while addressing them : one minute going wait here for me, okay [name]-ita/ito ? and the next second screaming at the top of his lungs over his shoulder OKAY BITCHES AND FUCKS WE'RE TAKING IT BACK FROM THE TOP ! and just barely keeping the kid out of sight in a room corner or adjacent room, like having the playpen barely behind the obscuring wall or something (whereas Angel Dust would probably use euphemisms - despite still cursing - around them and, while entering the studio with the kid, keep them in his own break-room (and the lot of questionable items he likes and that could fall in curious grabby hands, because he Didn't Thought This Through) while he works, preventing them from directly seeing anything). On the subject of Angel, he'll probably have a near heart attack seeing Valentino with a kid around him, knowing what he's truly capable of, and hoping it's not what he thinks it is (it's not, but Valentino is well-aware of the effect and if it makes his employees more compliant, might as well, relishing in the fear it causes). His way of dealing with tantrums or coaxing into behaving is either a cold glare and intimidating with silent anger and a very low voice (basically, scare-tactic), or playing keep-away with things, as in once you behave, you can have it. You wouldn't want me to keep it locked somewhere you can't reach, right ? Good. On the other side, expect faux-fussing and cooing for a child that's genuiely hurt, see how good a caretaker he is, right ? what do you mean he likes when someone is dependent on him to be comforted and happy, pffft, that's just your imagination.

Conclusion : hypothetically, none of them are above using a kid for their own goals, with next to no empathy outside a connecting point or two (sharks for Vox, maybe fashion for Velvette, and admiring Valentino - or just, boost their egos by fawning over their work/supposed smarts/prettiness, that works too), and while they'd be mostly decent towards the kid on a basic level (needs are taken care of, no (intentional) physical abuse, no neglect), they will be directly or indirectly manipulative, with calculated affection and praise. Healthy people to be around, I'm telling you.

Bonus :

For Sir Pentious, I think he'd just be plain lost, especially with modern kids and their needs (he's from the 1800's). Or paranoid the child is plotting his double-death when the local 5 y-o he got saddled with is merrily pushing buttons haphazardly on his blimp and no, no, not the death ray ! I, Ssssir Pentious, command you to let go of the Hyperbeam Dessssimator this inssstant ! That, or he'll try to transform them into one of his minions - and keep any stickman drawing offered to him in his secret room, after squishing it to his heart with welling-up, shiny gloopy eyes.

I don't remember if Niffty was brought up too, but she'd be rather... extreme. With a very fifties mentality of what caring for children implies, with leftover gender stereotypes. She'd be puzzled by a girl playing with toy cars and putting them to bed like some flipped-on-the-back beetle (pun intended) in the Barbie sheets, or a boy not being that much of an airplane fan. She would come around, but expect at least one that's not how you do it, and some hyper rants about killing bugs and CLEANING. However, she'll be very careful about dangerous items : no touching the bleach without her supervision ! Even if she'll tell the kid the hundred and a half ways of killing stuff with it.

For the Overlords : I admit I'm just drawing a blank on Zestial, I guess he'd just observe kids from afar but not really interact. Tall, Dark and Spidery would rather not interact, but I guess he'll point a lost kiddo in the right direction once in a while.

Rosie would just be the politest, most accomodating, patient, motherly figure, the talk about your emotions and how does that make you feel kind (I mean, we all watched Episode 7, right ?). Just watch out for the slow but steady conversion into a potential cannibal, because Oh you've never tried these, dearie, it's a delicacy ! Now, you're a forever-not-growing child, you need your calcium. And what's better than taking it from the source ? These bones are good for yours ! If unconvenienced by behavior, she'll show The Disappointmed Frown, and you better go to your room. Might still believe in spanking (by hand, no objects) as punishment. We don't do tantrums here, sweetie, we're classy, helldammit.

Carmilla is just a confirmed mom, maybe strict and an iron lady, but she deeply loves her own children, and it shows. Other kids don't bother her at all. A stern talking is what they need if misbehaving. She's protective, but not overprotective, and kinda the learn-from-your-experiences type (unless said experience would end fatally, because then she'll intervene). She aims to teach independence and self-sufficiency, and while blunt at times in her approach, her praise and affection are completely sincere and given without a second thought.

I don't know the other Overlords enough to tell how they would react to kids.

Okay, well, this blew up to a whole thing. Ah well, I'm known for my skyscrapers anyway. Have a cookie, you've certainly burned a lot of calories just by reading this, you really earned it.

(And seriously, just choose Carmilla as a babysitter.)

Again, Masterpost here.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel valentino #hazbin hotel velvette #hazbin hotel the vees #hazbin hotel overlords #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel vaggie #hazbin hotel niffty #hazbin hotel carmilla #hazbin hotel rosie #hazbin hotel sir pentious #hazbin hotel husk #hasbin hotel cherri #hazbin hotel angel dust #hazbin alastor #hazbin angel dust #hazbin charlie #hazbin vox #hazbin vaggie #hazbin valentino #hazbin velvette #hazbin vees #vox #velvette #valentino #charlie morningstar #vaggie #alastor

[bluzebub19]

SPOILER FOR EP 6 IN HAZBIN HOTEL REGARDING SIR PENTIOUS AND A CERTAIN CHARACTER

PROUD TO SAY I'VE BEEN SHIPPING SIR PENTIOUS AND CHERRI BOMB SINCE PILOT❗❗ Their dynamic in the show is something I only headcannoned and never thought would be included in the show. Buy goddamn-

How they made Sir Pentious so awkward and Cherri bomb so girlboss?! Sir pentious blushing when Cherri told him to not touch her and held his hand?! Him wanting to give Cherri a drink and a second shot?! Him asking Cherri for sex but got so embarassed so he just yelled he wanted to have sex with everyone in the club?! Him looking for Cherri but frustrated when he saw her about to do it with some guy?!

#cherri bomb #sir pentious #Cherri x pentious #Cherri bomb x sir pentious #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel ship #hazbin hotel #egg boiz #cherrisnake

[steddieas-shegoes]

a steddie request eddie invites a few people to an open mic night and makes sure steve sings something, and they are both really into each other singing ty

Sorry that I have become obsessed with the idea of Steve singing Cherry Bomb at the top of his lungs like his life depends on it (maybe in my head this is his Vecna song what of it). I think it would absolutely send Eddie into a whole spiral because that is NOT what Steve usually listens to and that is NOT the vibe he expected for the evening here. This was a fun little break between two very serious requests and I hope you all enjoy something fun and cute! - Mickala ❤️

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Steve hated karaoke. He hated watching it, he hated performing, he hated that he was usually in a loud bar when it happened.

But Robin insisted he come, insisted that Eddie wanted him there, and it would be “fun.”

And maybe if he’d been drinking, it would have at least been entertaining. It wasn’t.

Drunk girl after drunk girl took the stage, all of them butchering Joan Jett and Cyndi Lauper and ABBA.

Steve was extra mad about the ABBA.

But he was trying to let it go, trying to relax. Robin was having a blast, Eddie was having a blast, even Nancy had put her name on the list to sing.

Eddie wanted everyone to sing something, but Steve had avoided putting his name on the list so far.

Or he thought he did.

“Steve Harrington!”

The announcer said in the mic.

Nope. No. Not happening. Whoever did this was going to die.

He shook his head and glared at Robin.

“I’m not getting up there.”

“Come on! Eddie wants you to!”

“Why should he want me to? Why isn’t he going?”

“I am going. Right after you,” Eddie said from behind him, an annoying and attractive smirk in place.

“You should take my turn.”

“No, you should have a little fun.”

“This isn’t fun for me.”

Eddie shrugged.

“Okay.”

But the way he walked over to his seat, not quite pouting, but close to it, had Steve already reconsidering.

His stupid cute face and his stupid excitement and stupid sad puppy eyes when his hopes and dreams got dashed.

Ugh.

Steve stood up.

“Fine!” He threw his arms up and started walking towards the stage area.

He heard everyone talking behind him, and when he looked back, Eddie’s smile was huge.

That alone was worth it, he supposed.

He approached the announcer, hands in his pockets.

“What song did he sign me up for?”

“Cherry Bomb.”

“Of course.”

Steve couldn’t even be that mad.

It was a good choice, underrated for karaoke, and one of Steve’s favorites.

Eddie knew that, but no one else did.

“You know the words or do you need the sheet?”

“I know the words, thanks.”

Steve could probably sing this song backwards.

He stepped on the stage, walked to the mic, and waved to the group he came with. He would get this over with, finish his drink, and head home. Simple as that.

Eddie was beaming back at him, and when the music started, Steve felt nerves hit him.

Everyone in the bar cheered when the music started, including Robin.

Something in Steve shifted when he started singing. He felt like he needed to commit completely, put on the best performance he possibly could. Make Eddie proud.

So he started getting into it, growling into the mic and throwing his head back, letting his hips move in ways he usually reserved for the bedroom.

It was very ridiculous, but it was worth it to see Eddie’s reaction.

His jaw was wide open, eyes barely blinking. He couldn’t take his eyes off of Steve, even when his friend Gareth tried to nudge him.

Steve didn’t think about it, didn’t want to let himself hope that somehow Eddie might actually have feelings for him.

As soon as he finished the song, his adrenaline levels crashed.

His hands shook as he left the stage, and his vision blurred around the edges. He walked straight to the bathroom, barely registering the announcer calling for Nancy.

He needed a moment.

But he didn’t get one.

The bathroom door crashed open just as he was leaning over the sink to splash some cold water on his face.

Robin was standing there, hands on her hips, scowl on her face.

“You broke Eddie!”

“What?”

“He can’t even get up. He’s broken.”

“How is that my fault?”

“You were like…sexy or something.”

Steve snorted.

“Don’t hurt yourself.”

“I don’t know! He hasn’t moved and hasn’t spoken. He’s broken.”

Steve splashed his face carefully, didn’t want to spend the rest of the night soaked. The cold water helped him calm down and regain some feeling in his extremities.

“He’s the one who signed me. He’s the one who picked the song.”

“I don’t think he would’ve if he knew you’d go full Freddie Mercury up there.”

Steve rolled his eyes.

“I did not.”

“You did! For someone who didn’t even wanna come, you sure gave 120%.”

“I just sang the song. I got it over with. I might head out actually.”

“Before Eddie sings?”

“You just said he was broken.”

Robin huffed, crossing her arms against her chest.

“Can you just come out there and watch?”

Steve knew he had to. He couldn’t just leave, not after that, not after Eddie reacted that way.

“Okay.”

His shoulders fell, and he settled himself in for a long night.

They both made their way back out to the table where everyone was watching Nancy completely butcher Blondie. It was fine when she did it, she was having fun and she deserved to have fun. They all did.

Robin sat in the end seat, forcing him to sit next to a suspiciously still Eddie.

They didn’t look at each other, but their thighs were so close, Steve could feel the heat coming from his body.

He was going to die.

He hadn’t even told Robin he liked Eddie yet, had barely come to terms with it himself. Not only did he have an entire crisis about liking a man, but that man was Eddie.

That crisis was actually worse.

Steve watched Eddie’s fingers drum on the table in front of them, not going to the beat of the song wrapping up.

“Alright everyone! Got a real treat for you next! Eddie Munson’s gonna play and sing for us tonight!”

There were some cheers, most of which came from their own table, as Eddie stood up and hustled over to the accouncer, who was handing him an acoustic guitar.

Eddie didn’t usually play acoustic, did he?

What was happening?

Everyone at the table was staring at Steve.

What was happening?

“Hi everyone. Thanks for letting me break the rules a bit for karaoke,” Eddie said softly into the mic, nothing like his usual big personality coming through.

He was usually comfortable on stage, not scared to be even more over the top. This wasn’t like him at all.

Steve felt like he might puke and he didn’t even know why.

Eddie strummed a few times, wincing when he realized it was a bit out of tune.

“Sorry, just give me a second to tune it.”

Everyone seemed patient, mostly curious as to what he could possibly be doing.

And then Eddie started playing for real. It took everyone in the bar a minute to really know what he was playing, but when he started singing, Steve melted.

Eddie Munson was playing an acoustic version of Time After Time in a packed bar. And he was looking at Steve while he sang.

Steve couldn’t even find it in himself to be embarrassed over the attention, he was too busy being completely in love.

Eddie was a metalhead through and through, made fun of all of Steve’s music frequently, and never seemed to like anything that didn’t have wild guitar solos.

But if he was performing this song on his own up there, that meant he’d not only been listening to it a lot, but also teaching himself the guitar for it and the words.

Steve knew it was for him. It was obvious it was for him.

Everyone in this bar would probably figure out it was for him if they followed Eddie’s gaze.

That was a risk, but Steve honestly didn’t care right now.

Robin squeezed his knee, smiling over at him like she knew.

“Oh my God.”

“What?” She asked innocently.

“You knew. That’s why you dragged me here. That’s why you made me come back out of the bathroom.”

Robin shrugged.

Did everyone in their group know?

He looked around at them, everyone’s smirking faces pointed right at him.

These motherfuckers knew.

“You guys are…okay? With it?”

He couldn’t help but ask, his eyes focused back on Eddie so he didn’t have to see any type of disgust or disappointment on their faces.

“Dude, Eddie has had the hots for you for so long, I kinda forgot you weren’t into men for a while. It just felt like you two were dancing around each other, ya know?” Gareth replied from the end of the table.

No, he didn’t. He didn’t think he’d ever been obvious, often putting extra space between himself and Eddie when he felt like he would do something stupid like kiss him.

“You are into him though, right? He’s not doing this for no reason?” Jonathan added, suddenly concerned that Eddie was making a fool of himself for nothing.

“No, I’m into him. Unfortunately,” Steve replied, eyes focusing back on the way Eddie managed to hit the high notes.

As he finished, the crowd gave a standing ovation, probably just glad he hadn’t gotten up there to sing Black Sabbath or something like he usually did.

Steve watched as he handed the guitar back to the announcer and slowly turned to look back at the table.

The announcer was saying someone’s name, but Steve didn’t hear it.

The way Eddie was looking at him.

He stood up and started walking towards the bathroom again, hoped Eddie would be smart enough to follow him.

He was.

The moment the bathroom door closed behind Eddie, Steve was on him, his lips meeting Eddie’s like they were magnets.

Eddie groaned into it, his hands grasping at Steve’s hips and pulling him impossibly closer, pushing their hips together until all they could feel was each other.

When they finally came apart, just enough to rest their foreheads together, Eddie huffed out a laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

“If I knew singing Cyndi Lauper would get you, I would have done this a year ago.”

Steve rolled his eyes and leaned in for another kiss.

They started to get carried away again, Steve’s hands running up Eddie’s chest and settling over his heart.

“You always make fun of my music.”

“Because it’s terrible music.”

“But you just sang it in front of about 100 people.”

“I sang it in front of you. Other people were just there.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“But I’m your idiot. Right?”

He suddenly looked nervous, like he spoke too soon or assumed too much.

“Of course you are. I’m so stupidly in love with you, I can’t let you be anyone else’s idiot,” Steve said, leaning in for another kiss.

“You love me? Seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously.”

“Holy shit.”

Steve smacked his chest gently.

“Do you love me back or am I just here to confess my stupid feelings in a bar bathroom alone?”

“I just sang Cyndi Lauper in front of 100 people for you. I think it’s clear I love you.”

Steve smirked.

“Good.”

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #robin buckley #gareth #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #karaoke night #ficlet #anon request #just cute and fun fluff #steve's a little grumpy but we love him for it

[thedeerman]

RadioApple Fic:

Do You Want To Know?

Hey all, this is the first chapter of my little slow burn radioapple fic. Please let me know what you think, I don’t write much!!

Ch1: A New Idea

It’s been three weeks since the attempted extermination. Three weeks since Lucifer just barely saved the life of his daughter in a fight that nearly killed everyone she cared about. Three weeks since he helped to build the new hotel and moved into his very own suite. It’s been both terrible and beautiful for Lucifer. He had hardly spoken to another soul for years and now was thrown into daily gatherings with sinners he didn’t know. Some of which he certainly didn’t care to know. But those gatherings also included his daughter. His wonderful, smart, passionate, forgiving daughter. I don’t deserve her, Lucifer thinks constantly. He spent years neglecting their relationship, burying himself in his own sorrow, and yet Charlie welcomed him in without a second thought. Without even asking for an explanation or apology for his years of absence. He’s not sure where she got such a big heart, but he’s beyond grateful that she has it. And as an attempt to show her just how dedicated he is to helping her see out her dream, he’s been showing up for every morning meeting. Every ‘family’ dinner. Every chore list, cooking schedule, errands run, nearly anything that could be signed up for, he does. Lucifer didn’t mind chores much. Cooking was fun and he could be experimental (in a way that didn’t include human remains, much to the other residents’ delight). Doing dishes or laundry was something as monotonous and calming as making ducks and other little trinkets. And on the days when he really just wasn’t in the mood to deal with it, he simply used his magic to help him get it done quickly. No matter how emotionally taxing, how time consuming, or how frustrating the task was, Lucifer was ready and willing to do anything he could to help his daughter succeed.

It’s because of this that Lucifer ends up on the attendance list for all of Charlie’s ’family’ activities for the hotel. It doesn’t seem too bad at first, but as the activities get to be a little more personal, Lucifer ends up regretting how agreeable he was to his daughter’s every request. A bit too late to be kicking myself for that now... Lucifer thinks as he sits in yet another hotel ‘family’ meeting. The ‘family’ being Charlie of course, her girlfriend Vaggie, the spider demon/porn star Angel, the grumpy bartender Husk, the scary little maid (the one that killed Adam, no less) Niffty, Angel’s one eyed bomb loving friend Cherri, now Lucifer, and... Ugh. This guy, the fallen angel thinks, as the final ‘family’ member graces them with his presence by appearing from the shadows. Alastor... What a pain in the ass. Lucifer doesn't actually have much reason to hate the demon aside from his frustrating theatrics and his need to always be the one Charlie pays the most attention to. Whatever game you’re playing, I’ve got my eye on you, he’s always thinking.

“Alrighty everyone!” His daughter’s voice catches Lucifer’s attention. “Now that we’re all here, I’d like to announce that we will be trying a new activity!” There are a series of groans from the group. None from Alastor, of course. But his creepy, always there smile seems strained, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly as Charlie continued. “So! You all know how we’ve been trying out some new ideas as test runs for new residents,” she starts. Yes, and it’s been excruciating. No one involved has been enjoying being guinea pigs for Charlie’s therapy experiments. The only silver lining being that the new residents wouldn’t have to suffer the same fates, as each and every “new activity” so far has been tossed out after a resounding failure of some kind or another. Fights, tears, broken furniture, and excessive day drinking have occurred both during and after a few of these sessions. Her ideas weren’t terrible in concept, but in practice, with demons and fallen angels and souls under contract, they just weren’t working. Lucifer’s attention is once again brought to the front of the room as Charlie continues.

“And yes, I understand that the past few exercises we’ve tried... haven’t exactly ended well.” Lucifer hates the sad look in her eyes as she considers her failures, but it’s gone as quickly as it arrived. “But after a lot of discussion and thinking about how and why our previous activities went so....” She pauses, looking for the right word. “Awful? Terrible? Destructive? Shitty? Depressing?” Angel adds. Vaggie glared his way but the demon wasn’t paying any attention. “Yes, thank you Angel,” Charlie says hesitantly. “So! I took those... experiences... into account while creating this one!” Lucifer shifts uncomfortably in his seat. He was a huge fan of Charlie living out her dream, but he wasn’t a huge fan of having to be this close to the action. He lets out a small sigh. I can’t abandon my place as her dad again. Charlie paused for a moment to reach into a bag and hand a bundle of items to Vaggie. Small strips of paper and markers. As Vaggie started passing them out to each of them, Charlie explains. “First thing’s first, I need everyone to write their names down. Once you’ve written your name, please give your paper to Vaggie.”

Lucifer’s anxiety starts up, as it always does when he’s involved in one of his daughter’s ‘family’ activities. He just hopes whatever comes of this involves less property damage than before. He hands his paper back to Vaggie as she walks around to collect them. Giving the papers back to her partner, Vaggie continues the instructions. “You will now each receive a randomly chosen name. The name on your paper will be for your eyes and your eyes only. Do not tell anyone else the name that you got.” Charlie excitedly passes the papers back out, now folded shut. “Except for me!” she interrupts. “I’m going to make a note of who gets who for the sole purpose of understanding the effectiveness of this activity. Don’t worry, no one else will get to see!” Her smile is infectious, Lucifer just can’t help it. He always smiles when he sees his daughter this way, so full of hope and joy. Vaggie hands him a folded strip of paper. Before he can open it to see who he was assigned, Charlie speaks again.

“Now, unlike some of our previous attempts, this activity will not be done as a group.” Multiple sighs of relief are heard, and Lucifer notices that Alastor seems to relax ever so slightly. At least that’s one thing we can agree on... “However,” Charlie continues, “This will be a week-long exercise-” multiple groans again, “that will involve a prompt each morning. That prompt will be a question or instruction that each of you will respond to in a letter. The letters don’t have to be long, but must include a full response to the prompt. They don’t have to be short either, just go for whatever your honest answer is!” She’s practically bouncing up and down with excitement as she says “The recipient of what you’ll be writing for the week will be the name on the paper youve been given. You’ll have a full 24 hours to write your letters. Tomorrow you’ll hand them in to me during the morning meeting, and will then be given the next prompt. Any questions so far?”

All of them are silent for a long moment. Vaggie breaks the silence. “Here are the rules. Rule number one: You MUST be respectful. OUR version of respectful. No insults, no petty jabs. Just answer the prompt. Rule number two: No discussing who each person is writing to. I mean NO discussion. Do not ask, do not tell. If we find out that this rule is broken, the offending parties will be sitting in on Charlie’s hotel-wide group therapy sessions for a month.” Lucifer’s eyes went wide at this. Several others did as well. Group therapy wasn't an uncommon ‘punishment’ (though Charlie wont ever call it that) but the sessions are held four days out of the week and last for one to two hours at a time. And with new arrivals slowly trickling into the hotel to be redeemed, the sessions were getting larger. Lucifer tensed, thinking of the last time he was forced to participate after getting into a spat with the only sinner in the building he just couldn’t stand to be around. Lucifer was not meant for group therapy, that was for sure. The most any of them have been forced to attend for bad behavior was one week. None of them wanted a whole month.

Vaggie looked amused at the group’s reaction to this. She spoke again. “This also includes revealing yourself to the person you’re writing to. These letters are supposed to be anonymous.” Charlie speaks up. “This exercise depends on honesty and anonymity, and I have really high hopes that this one can be used by new residents learning to redeem themselves.” She pauses. “Okay. So now that we’ve gone over everything, I’m going to call each of you over to note down who you’ll be writing to. I’ll then give you a paper with today’s writing prompt and an envelope to put the letter in once you're done. Make sure to seal it! After that, bring your envelope with you for tomorrow’s meeting and I’ll mark the intended recipient on the front. At the end of our meeting you’ll get the letter addressed to you and the next writing prompt.”

All of this information takes a moment to register in Lucifer’s head, but after he’s gone over it all in his mind he’s left with a sense of pride for his daughter. Out of all of her experiments so far, this one is the first that Lucifer doesnt think would turn into an all out war. It seems... feasible. He smiles as she makes eye contact with him, clearly ecstatic with her plan. Vaggie calls each one of them over to the desk that Charlie has against the room’s far wall. One at a time, each member of the ‘family’ does as they’re told and then leaves the meeting room. Lucifer spends a moment wondering who got his slip of paper, the one with his name written on it, until he suddenly remembers that he never looked at his own intended letter recipient. With no one close enough to peer over his shoulder, Lucifer slowly opens up the folded paper to see whose name is written.

Of course. Go figure. Yeah, why not just make the next week my own little slice of Hell? I mean honestly- His thoughts are interrupted by Charlie’s voice. “Dad! It’s your turn!” He looks up and realizes he’s the last one to be called. Everyone else, save Charlie and Vaggie, have already left the room. He attempts to smile as he stands and faces his daughter, but she sees through it immediately. And it's obvious. “Come on Dad... I know who you got.” This surprises him. Was his face really that revealing? “Everyone else’s name has already been marked on my chart, so...” She smiles awkwardly. “Listen, I think this will be good for you! Please, just try your best?” Lucifer slowly walks to the desk and sighs heavily. “Anything for you, sunshine. I’ll try my hardest.” He hands the strip of paper to his daughter and she gives him the paper with the prompt and envelope in exchange. “I dont think I’ve got you on the chores schedule today, but I’m gonna be pretty busy so I probably won’t see you until dinner.” She smiles at him, that glowing warm smile that he’d missed out on for so many years. She encourages him with an “I love you, Dad. You’re gonna do great!” and gives him a thumbs up.

He leaves the room smiling, just loving being in his daughter’s presence, until he walks into the lobby and sees him. Sitting on one of the many comfy chairs, sipping black coffee out of a mug that says “Oh Deer” on the side. The asshole. The worst demon in the hotel. The piece of shit that loves to torment Lucifer to no end. The name on his strip of paper. He strides by as quickly as possible to avoid any contact. Damn it... He thinks on the way back to his side of the hotel. Why, of all people... He can’t get the vision of the neat, cursive handwriting out of his head. His mind focuses on one name and one name only.

Alastor

Read Chapter 2!

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[localwriterdocx]

Sober or Stoner: Hazbin Hotel Headcanons

From somebody who snorts it up my nose every weekend, who do I think does this too?

NOTES: This includes everybody at the hotel + Lucifer and Cherri. I will do the Vee's and perhaps other important characters like the angels and the other overlords, but for now, that's not the case.

WARNINGS: Mentions of Drug Use, Mentions of Angel's Backstory, Maybe slight OOC.

Charlie - No, I'd say mostly sober. She wouldn't want to do it for the most part because she just thinks drugs = bad. She might try it if a lot of her friends are doing it together, and if she did a lot of research about the positive effects of marijuana. Doesn't smoke, only edibles. If she decided to, Vaggie would be taking care of her the whole time. She gets all snuggly and very lovey-dovey platonically with her friends or romantically with Vaggie. When she gets a good idea and tries to work, nobody can understand her idea because she's talking so much so fast.

Vaggie - I'd say no, sober. She's the caretaker, the one who has to be ready when somebody tries something stupid. She would be on her guard the whole time if Charlie wasn't constantly trying to cuddle her and love her. She has to drop whatever she is doing just to hold Charlie. If she did do it, I don't think she'd like it. She just doesn't like being that vulnerable for that amount of time. She would definitely just want to be around Charlie IF she was high. Is supportive towards Charlie. Puts everybody in their place if they get too out of control.

Angel Dust - Yes, Occasionally. Weed is like a side dish to him. It's one of the drug that he doesn't get hopped on while recording because its too weak for him. But is kind of fucking with it? Is willing to give it a shot with everybody at the hotel because it appeals to his interests. Sort of also becomes a caretaker too? But mostly to Niffty, not really wanting anybody to end up hurt. Probably barricade's the exit to the hotel so she can't get out. Very honest. Will shittalk Val to Cherri and Husk.

Alastor -No. Sober. Next Question. He doesn't like it whatsoever. He is a drinker, not a smoker. He does like to watch these buffoons act like idiots on it tho, he doesn't really like to talk to anybody while their on it, unless it's important. He wouldn't turn down Charlie of Niffty. If he's feeling social, he likes to fuck with people on it. Purposely scares everyone with his powers, only for him to lean back like "Just kidding! I could though! :)".

Husk - Occasionally. He'd definitely try it, even if he wasn't happy about Angel doing it. He went into it thinking he'd definitely be the one watching over Angel, but it turned out that Angel is gonna be watching over him. He smokes, but just not weed, so his intolerance is pretty low. He's definitely the one bitching to everyone, especially Angel, about anything he can think of, but he's smart enough not to bitch about Alastor when he's right there, sober or not. He doesn't like sitting still, so he wanders the hotel.

Niffty - Fucking god. Occasionally. - She hasn't done it, she would but nobody lets her smoke. She has accidentally pounded like 4 full brownies that somebody left out though. Everybody thought that she would be up and about, completely out of control, but she just sits, doesn't move or talk, just chills (if you can call that chilling). It's a creepy sight for somebody who isn't already used to it. Occasionally, she will say the scariest shit known to man and then just go back to zoning out like nothing happened.

Sir Pentious - Mostly no, but occasionally. Did it because Cherri Bomb did it. Gets the most fucked out out of everybody. He will NOT stop talking. Sir, i love you, but please shut up. Much like Charlie, he also gets really emotional, especially to his Egg Boiz. They help deal with him a lot more than you would think. Alastor commands them to never leave his side because he knows they still listen to him. He also tries harder to flirt with Cherri, he's still bad, if not worse, but it's entertaining. Sometimes just doesn't know what's going on.

Cherri Bomb - YES. She's definitely toned down, this is not her first rodeo. She just tolerates everything, even Sir Pentious' terrible flirting. Later into the night when she's really high, she even finds it a bit endearing. She would definitely vibe with Niffty as she comes up with her creepy shit, Cherri just gets very interested in her, in a similar way to Alastor is. Tries to get everyone to do funny stuff with her like Karaoke, but the only ones who take her up on it is Sir Pentious and Charlie. Probably brought edibles.

Lucifer - Occasionally. Has he tried it? Years ago. Is he a stoner? I don't think so. If he somehow did it, again, would need a little supervision. Would probably cry to Charlie non-stop, they stick together. This is the only time Vaggie would get a break. He'd do stupid shit too, like hide rubber ducks all around the hotel. That is purely to piss off Alastor because Charlie doesn't want him to fight, but it doesn't really work. Gets the munchies like no other. He will have to restock the hotel food supply when he's done. Did it a lot with Lilith when they were together.

Thank you so much for stoning with me :) Send some requests to my ask box if u want.

#hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #vaggie hazbin hotel #angel dust #angel dust hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk #husk hazbin hotel #alastor hazbin hotel #cherri bomb #sir pentious #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer #niffty #niffty hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel headcanon