#angel who gets really bad back pain from their wings

[butchdykekondraki]

too many able bodied angels . wheres angels w disabilities . wheres the mentally ill angels . huh . where are they . its not statistically probable for ALL of them to be able bodied and neurotypical

#[ren] #deep sigh. ok reasonably i know its cause most angels were modeled after actual people. but im going to start killing either way ok? #angel who gets really bad back pain from their wings #angel whos blind and uses their wings to feel their surroundings #angel whos deaf and just keeps fucking learning sign language in different languages for fun #angel who uses their sword as a cane #angel who uses their wings to float because they have leg pains #angel who has chronic migraines and cant look at mirrors for too long because theyre so bright #angel who uses their wings to bat away hands from their cane #sorry im. rambling #idk !! too many able bodied angels i think.

[lxkeee]

HEAVEN AND BACK!

—PART TWO

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Alastor's Mom! Angel! Reader

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Genre: Romance, love at first sight.

Warnings: none.

Notes: this one is comparably shorter than chapter one.

PART ONE | PART THREE

Lucifer was absolutely baffled, so many things happened in one day. First, a very gorgeous and tall seraphim angel decided to come and stay at the hotel to oversee its progress and on top of all that, the said angel is that damn radio demon's mother.

Lucifer watches as the angel, who he learned that goes by the name [y/n] is still currently scolding her son. Him, Charlie, Vaggie, Angel Dust, and Husk are at the bar area just watching it unfold.

Alastor sitting on the couch, head hung low in shame but there's still a smile on his face.

“So... You killed your father and many more? And also ate them....?” [y/n] asked, disappointed in her voice. Alastor's deer ears lay flat as he remained seated as he listened to his mother.

“Oh god, my son is a cannibal!” [y/n] cries, Niffty wiping away her tears as [y/n] carried the smaller girl in her arms—how did it happen? She just somehow was raising her arms for uppies while the taller woman was scolding her boss and the older woman just did so without thinking and carried her and then resumed to scolding Alastor.

“But they deserved it, mother! He deserved it for—” Alastor tried to defend himself, his smile strained.

[Y/n]'s own smile widened, eye twitching, “Who said you could speak? My own son is talking back to me!” she cries, smiling through the tears, her wings puffed up in anger and Alastor shuts up his mouth immediately.

“Where did I go wrong in raising you? I didn't raise you like this.” [y/n] sobs, Niffty handing her a handkerchief where the taller woman accepted and used it to blow her nose.

“Yikes.” Lucifer muttered in amusement as he sipped his dry martini while watching the angelic woman continuing to scold Alastor. Now that's my kind of woman. He thought before almost choking his drink. Hold up. What is wrong with him today? He barely knew the woman and he is already thinking like this.

“You okay there pal? I'm pretty sure you almost choked on your drink.” Angel Dust laughs and Lucifer just glares at him.

Charlie giggles beside him excitedly, “Isn't it amazing? Alastor reunited with his mom! And heaven finally decided to help us!” Charlie squeals and Vaggie hums in agreement.

“Well... It surely isn't a happy one as smile's is getting scolded even more.” Angel Dusts laughs and Husk chuckles behind the counter.

Back to the mother and son, Alastor is finally done with seeing his mother cry. He hugged her in which the older woman was weakly hitting his chest while she sniffled. Niffty being pressed in-between the two. She's just glad to be there.

“I am sorry, mother. I'm still your son.“ Alastor says softly and [y/n] sniffled against her son's embrace.

“I'm still mad at you.” she says, and Alastor's smile widens every slightly, “I know.” he says with a grin before getting his forehead flicked once more by his mother, making him winced in pain. [Y/n] gently lowering Niffty down to the floor. Lucifer and Husk snickering at the bar area.

[Y/n] pouted as she finally left her son's embrace, “And here I was waiting in heaven for so long wondering what's taking you so long and only for you to be here in hell? My goodness...” [y/n] sighs, pinching her own nose, her other hand on her hip.

“My bad.” Alastor says with a grin and [y/n] sighs, wiping the tears away from her eyes then clapping her hands together and a smile is back on her face as she turns around to look at the other hotel crew.

“Well, I suppose that is over. I am sorry for the scene I've caused, this young man right here is to blame.” [y/n] deadpans, pointing her arms towards Alastor who was lounging on the couch, he just gave a thumbs up.

[Y/n] sighs, shaking her head. “Back to business, I myself am not really sure why Sera decided to change her mind but she's my boss so... I don't really have a choice.” [y/n] says with a shrug, smoothly lying to them and the others just look at her with a slight deadpanned expression.

“I will be staying here for the time being, Sera didn't exactly say for how long...” She says before her eyes widened, Sera really didn't tell her how long she'll be here.

“I am starting to wonder if I accidentally got myself kicked out of heaven.” She muttered and Lucifer snickered slightly, looking at her with an amused smile on his face.

“Well if that's the case, there's a space made just for you in hell.” Lucifer says smoothly and [y/n] smirked, “My... Special treatment for lil' ol' me by the king of hell himself? It would be an honor.” she says with a small smirk, approaching the bar area and standing in front of the sitting man, looking down on him.

“I feel like they're each other's types.” Angel Dust whispers to Vaggie in which he gets elbowed to the side by the fallen exorcist.

Alastor's eye twitched in annoyance as he watched the scene unfold, not my mother. Speed walking to the two, Alastor held his mother's shoulders protectively and slid her away from the king of hell.

“Alastor, dear... I can handle myself.” [y/n] chuckles and Alastor just smiled, though his smile strained a little bit. Clearly annoyed how the king of hell is getting smooth with his mother.

“I'll be showing my mother around and show her to her room. Please excuse us.” Alastor says as he gently drags [y/n] with him upstairs with Niffty following the two.

The others just watched in amusement, still hearing the two's slowly muffling voices as they left the room.

“Mama please, he's the king of hell. Why are you already getting so chummy with him?” Alastor's muffled voice can be heard as they walk away.

“Have you seen him, Alastor? Heaven's scrolls didn't do him any justice, he's gorgeous!” [y/n] says with a laugh and a followed groan from Alastor. Their voices can no longer be heard as they were getting farther and farther away.

Angel Dust nudges Lucifer and wiggles his eyebrows at the short king, the arachnid teasing the man as he can really see Lucifer's flustered cheeks.

“You two looked nice together, you better shoot your shot.” Angel Dust says with a smirk which prompted Lucifer to stammer.

“Huh? What? I just met her for God's sake!” Lucifer says, pulling his collar away from his throat as he awkwardly chuckles.

“Please... Everyone can see you were eyeing her like a piece of candy.” Husk says gruffly behind the counter, scoffing.

Lucifer blushed, nervous that he wasn't slicked at all.

“Can't blame him to be honest.” Charlie says with a chuckle as she sipped her wine. Vaggie just rolls her eyes playfully, “Still, she's suspicious.” she says and Angel Dust scoffs, “Please, when are you not? Besides, if you ever end up right, I'm sure short king over here can handle her.” He says with a shrug before smirking at Lucifer, “Just admit you were admiring the sexy angel lady, couldn't blame ya toots!” he giggles.

“I wasn't... You guys are just seeing things.” he deadpans, his ears tinted pink. His daughter, Maggie, Angel Dust, and Husk just gave him a raised eyebrow. Clearly not believing him in the slightest.

“Whatever you say, short king.” Angel Dust says in amusement.

TAGLIST:

@adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya @many-fandoms-lover @dou-dou @mezzyb0nb0n @n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @koirb @galaxyj3lly @crystalplays28 @luleck @scootinonyourmom @rory-cakes @mixplara @crescent-z @bitchyzombienacho @kalisha2004 @altervex @nehy019 @napbatata @kouyoumarryme @sxgacxbe @kooidoom @yukichan67 @apple-pop @akiralovespenguins @storydays @kaurochika @amphiroxx @lil-writer-523 @punching-pentagrams @moonlovers34 @h3110kitty0 @bethleeham @hcneyiced @ashleygryffindor @ghostdoodlen @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @cupidsgift @shilladodo

#lxkeee answers #lxkeee updates #hazbin hotel #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar x reader #lxkeee hazbin hotel masterlist #lucifer #lucifer morningstar #lucifer magne #hazbin hotel x reader

[proxima-writes]

pairing: cult leader!joel miller x virgin!female reader

rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)

word count: 8.6k

summary:

You think you’re as good as dead when a band of raiders find you. In what you think are your final moments, an angel appears.

His name is Joel Miller, and he is here to deliver you from evil.

author's note: a huge thank you to my fellow cultist @atinylittlepain for listening to me scream about this. without them, we'd probably be on version 5 of this story. and to everyone who has been excited about this, i hope you enjoy!

warnings: DARK CONTENT - DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, dub-con: power dynamics, dub-con: cult mentality, age difference - 60M and 27F, explicit sexual content (18+ minors do not interact), no use of y/n, dual POV, post-outbreak, canon divergence, canon typical violence (knife wounds, gun shot wounds, numerous mentions of blood), minor character death(s), blood cult ceremonies, religious themes, possessive behavior, emotional manipulation, loss of virginity, oral sex - f receiving, vaginal fingering, unprotected p in v, cum play, dirty talk, pet names, praise, joel really has a loose screw ok? if there are any tags missing, please let me know!

“I don’t think you should go out there by yourself,” you say, watching as your dad inspects his gun. He looks up at you with a pained expression.

“I gotta see where we should head next. I don’t want to lead you out in the wrong direction, accidentally get you in a bad spot,” he says. “I’ll be fine, buttercup.”

There’s a heaviness that settles in your stomach at his words. He sounds confident enough, but his eyes tell a different story, expose his fear. He stands with a sigh, a wince of pain washing over his face.

“Maybe I should—“

“No,” he interrupts. “I’m going. I won’t be gone long, okay? We can’t stay here forever. Who knows what’s out there in the forest.”

That’s exactly what you’re afraid of. At least inside the rotted cabin you stumbled across you could pretend you were safe. The forest is alive in a way you’ve never experienced growing up in a QZ surrounded with barbed wire and steel. You hear the snap of twigs and the howl of wolves, or the flutter of wings and the call of birds, and sometimes you think you feel the weight of eyes watching you if you venture out too far in your exploration.

“We’ve made it this far. We got out of Denver and that was half the battle,” your dad says. “You got your knife, right? And enough rations.”

You nod, swallowing around the lump in your throat. He kisses your forehead, dry lips lingering on your skin. You have an aching feeling this is a goodbye, some sinking intuition that he’s making a mistake that you can’t correct.

“Be back soon. I love you.”

Joel’s been keeping an eye on the people in the woods for the last three days. There was chatter on one of the radio stations that the Denver QZ was facing an uprising and he knows that once those walls come down, the survivors that venture out are bound to stumble across his town.

The cabin door opens and the man steps out, venturing into the forest. Joel waits to see if his female companion follows, but the door remains shut. He longs to see you, the girl who’s image has been burned into his brain since his first glimpse, but he has a duty to fulfill first.

He walks quickly and quietly through the forest, sure feet catching up with the man less than a mile from where he’d started.  Joel clears his throat. 

The man turns, fumbling with a gun that he clearly has no experience using, pointing it at Joel with shaking hands and shouting, “Move and I’ll shoot!” 

“You lost?” Joel asks, holding his hands up and keeping his face trained in a mask of concern. “Lookin’ for somethin’?”

After a pause, the man seeming to have concluded that Joel isn't a threat, he says, “My daughter and I…we escaped the Denver QZ."

"That must've been difficult." 

"We....we're running out of food," he continues, dropping his arms, limbs hanging heavy at his sides. "I-I don't know what else to do, man."

Gun no longer pointed at his face, Joel approaches the man, stopping when he's within arms reach. Up close, he can see the dismal state the guy is in -- sunken cheeks and bloodshot eyes, tattered clothing hanging on a thin frame. Joel places a hand on his bony shoulder.

"I can help you," he says. The man looks up, a brief glimmer of hope flashing in his eyes. Joel watches the slow realization, the way his brain catches up to what's just happened, a choked noise spilling from his dry lips. 

Joel tugs his knife from the man's gut and steps back, watching as he collapses to the ground. Desperate hands smear the blooming red stain across his abdomen. Joel circles the man, positioning himself at his back, and pulls him close with a hand slapped over his mouth.

"I'll take good care of her," he whispers before dragging his knife across his neck in one clean slice. The man twitches once before growing limp and Joel releases him, body hitting the forest floor with a dull thud. Not one to waste, Joel gathers anything of use from his person. 

Something catches the light against his neck. Curious, Joel tugs the bloodstained neck of his t-shirt to the side, finding a silver chain. He pulls, revealing the length of it. 

A cross.

The clasp snaps with a sharp tug and Joel stuffs it in his pocket. Standing and shouldering his bag once more, he begins his walk back towards the cabin.

You're running as fast as your legs will carry you, lungs and limbs burning with the effort. You made the mistake of not listening to your dad when he'd told you stay where you were, to stay hidden, that he'd come back. Your nerves had gotten the best of you and you decided that you would catch up with him, but you didn't know which direction he'd gone. You figured you would travel a little ways and see if you could find him and if you didn't do so quickly, you'd rush back to the cabin and wait, just as he told you.

That's when the men saw you, two large figures with rifles that reminded you of FEDRA soldiers slung across their backs. 

You duck behind a thick tree to catch your breath. You can hear voices calling out through the forest above the rush of blood in your ears, taunting tones carrying through the air.

"C'mon out, pretty girl!" 

You chance a peek out from your hiding spot, only catching a brief glimpse of one man through the trees. 

"Where ya hidin', sweet thing?" 

His voice sounds far away and that gives you the courage to move forward, a tentative dash for another tree. 

“I might be nicer to ya if you just come on out, but if I have to hunt ya down…well…you know what a hunter does to its prey, don’tcha?”

You press your hand over your mouth, muffling the cry that claws its way up your throat. You start to run again, faster, not caring if he can hear you so long as you're able to maintain that distance, hoping that if you can outrun them for long enough, he'll just give up and then maybe you can find your--

You crash into something, the world sliding out from under you and the breath rushing from your lungs as you land on your back with a pained shout. A hand wraps around your ankle, pulling you across the rough ground before you have the chance to recover. 

"Gotcha," a man says, the voice different from the one that had been taunting you before. A figure stands over you, a foot on either side of your hips, looking down at you with a sinister smile. "Pretty little prize, huh?"

You twist your body, scrambling away from him. He laughs, following after you with unhurried strides.

“Now, don’t play hard to get,” he admonishes. A hand wraps around your ankle and he drags you toward him, kicking and screaming. Your foot connects with some fleshy part of him and he curses. 

“You little fuckin’ cunt,” he hisses, dropping your foot. He kicks you, heavy boot colliding with soft flesh and bone, a sharp pain blossoming in your side, shooting down to your very marrow. You curl in on yourself, wounded prey trying to protect its most vulnerable parts.

A shot rings out, the sound startling in the relative quiet of the forest. You sit up, sudden movement making you light headed, and it takes you a long moment to register the scene before you.

The man that had been chasing you, the one that had caught you, the one that had hurt you on the surface but planned to do far worse, lies on the ground, eyes wide open but unseeing. Above him stands your savior, an older man with gray streaked dark curls and tan skin, broad shoulders and hard brown eyes. He reminds you of a painting you saw once in a book your dad owned, long before the outbreak.

“Death On A Pale Horse,” he explained when you showed him the painting that caught your eye. “Based on the Book of Revelations. You remember that one, right?” 

“Yeah.”

“This one,” — he pointed to the central figure, a dark creature on a white horse — “is Death. And this one” — he pointed to a figure on the right that rides a dark brown horse, the dark colors making him blend among the horrors breaking from the sky behind him — “would be famine. You can see the emaciated man below him.”

“What about the other two?” You asked.

“The one of the red horse would be war.”

You pointed to the remaining figure, a man with dark curls and a determined expression. “And the white horse?”

Your dad paused. “Conquest. Pestilence. The Antichrist. The first horseman of the apocalypse.”

The man before you today looks like that figure on the white horse and despite his choice to rescue you from one horror, you fear he may be something far worse.

The man kneels and you flinch away from him. He sighs and says, “I ain’t goin’ to hurt you.”

“Who are you?” You ask, voice weak, throat on fire. 

“My name is Joel,” he says. “I want to help you.”

“How do I know you weren’t with those other guys?” Your eyes grow wide and you rush to stand on shaky legs. “Wait, there’s another—“

“He won’t be an issue,” Joel assures you, wrapping a steadying arm around your waist. “C’mon.”

“I can’t—“

“Men like those two ain’t the only things in the forest to worry about, and I’m afraid we can’t sit around and find out. That gun shot could send a horde runnin’.”

“Wait!” You snap, pulling out of his grasp. He holds his hands up, as if in surrender, or maybe like he’s approaching a wounded animal. You’re not sure which. “My dad is out there. H-he went to figure out where to go from here. We were in a cabin…” Your voice trails off. “I told him I would wait for him.”

Joel’s eyes are soft as he says, “We need to get ourselves to safety. I can send someone out to look for your dad first thing in the mornin’.”

“Send someone?”

“There’s a group of us, down in the valley. Survivors, like you.”

“Really?” Relief washes over you, eclipsing even the ache in your belly and the burn in your throat and the pain in your muscles. “How far?”

“With the state you’re in, probably about a two hour hike.”

You don’t have much choice but to go with him, do you?

“Okay.”

“Where’re you comin’ from?” Joel asks, glancing over his shoulder at you. You’ve been following quietly behind him, head down and eyes fixed on the ground. 

“Denver,” is all you offer in response. He knew that much already. He wants to know more.

Maybe he has to give more first.

“‘M from Texas, originally. Was in a QZ in Boston for a while before makin’ my way out here.”

“Why’d you come out here?” You ask.

“Had a friend once tell me, ‘Save who you can save’,” he says. 

“What does that mean?” You ask.

“You’ll see.”

Joel had mentioned survivors, but you're shocked to discover that just past a wooden sign proclaiming WELCOME TO CRESTONE in chipped yellow paint, a whole town is tucked away, surrounded by a wooden gate that opens for you as you approach. You feel the weight of curious eyes as you walk through a town square, Joel's palm between your shoulder blades steering you towards a more residential area until you reach a two story adobe home.

Once inside, you’re led upstairs to a sparsely decorated bedroom, a large bed in the center with a faded quilt tucked around the mattress with precision and a dresser against one wall covered in yellowed wallpaper. Joel gestures for you to sit, kneeling on the wood floor in front of you to work on the laces of your sneakers.

“What—“

“You need rest,” he says, removing your shoes. He looks up at you, brown eyes full of concern. Your stomach flips.

“But—“

“No,” he says sternly. He stands and walks to the side of the bed, tugging the quilt free and folding it down. “I have duties to return to, but you’ll be safe here.”

You don’t have it in you to continue arguing. You haven’t seen a comfortable bed in more than two days and the exhaustion catches up to you in one fell swoop, eyes halfway to shut as you crawl into the space Joel’s made for you between the sheets. He pulls the covers over you, the warmth of a hand smoothing across your cheek the last thing you feel before falling asleep.

You wake to the sun high in the sky, streaming through the open window of a room that you don't recognize.  You push yourself to sitting, your ribs protesting the movement and your head pulsing just behind your eyes. Your mouth is unbearably dry, so much so that you start coughing, further aggravating your bruised ribs.

"There's water on the nightstand," a voice says, startling you.

You look to your left, finding a young girl sitting in a wooden chair by your bed. Her dark hair is pulled back from her face, wayward pieces falling across pale skin. Her sharp brown eyes watch you with an intensity that makes your skin crawl.

“I’m Ellie,” she says. You mumble your own name.

“Did Joel save you?” Ellie asks. 

“Uh—“

“He must have. That’s what he does,” she continues, cutting you off. 

“Ellie!” A familiar deep voice calls out. Her eyes go wide and she scrambles from her seat, rushing for the door. Heavy footsteps climb the stairs, Joel appearing in the open doorway. He looks at her with a stern expression, mouth pressed in a thin line. “Thought I told you not to come up here.”

The look on her face isn’t fear, like her reaction would have led you to believe. No, she looks up at Joel with reverence as she says, “Sorry. Wanted to see her.”

Joel nods. “Head to the mess hall. I’ll bring her down shortly.”

Ellie casts a lingering look in your direction before disappearing through the doorway. 

“Sorry about her,” Joel says. He takes a seat on the edge of the mattress. “How’re you feelin’?”

“Could be better,” you say honestly. “How long was I asleep for?”

“A little more than a day.”

Your eyes go wide. “My dad—“

“We’ve sent out a search party. No luck yet, I’m afraid,” he says. You curl into yourself a bit at the news, shoulders tight with worry. He reaches forward and places a hand on top of your own where it rests on the sheets. “You should get some food. I brought you some new clothes, too. I’ll let you get dressed and we can go down to the mess hall.“

He leaves the room before you respond and you drag the pile of clothes closer to you, finding a neatly folded t-shirt, jeans, underwear, and socks. It takes you a long moment to work your way out of your dirty clothes, your movements slow to not aggravate your injuries. You keep your bra on, pulling the clean shirt over your head, followed by the jeans. You're thrilled to be wearing something that's not caked with dirt and sweat.

You're working on putting your socks on when there's a knock at the door, Joel entering when you call out for him to come in. He smiles at you.

"There, that's better," he says. "C'mon. Let's get down to dinner."

You follow him out of the room and down the stairs. The first floor of the home has a kitchen that opens up to a living and dining area, the space filled with worn mismatched furniture. The walls are wood paneled and there's a massive stone fireplace with elk antlers mounted above it.

The sun is setting as you step outside and get your first real look at the town as its bathed in gold. Narrow residential streets give way to wider roads once you reach the town center, where commercial buildings are pressed together advertising long forgotten businesses, their windows dark. 

"That's the butcher up there," Joel says, pointing to one of the wooden buildings. "He gets the meat from the traps prepped for us." He points to another building with a sign that says RESTAURANT. "That's the bakery."

"A butcher and a bakery?" You ask. "Do you have electricity here?"

"Sure do. Solar panels, just outside the gate."

You continue walking through the town until you come up on a large white building, people entering and exiting through a set of thick double doors. The shadow of a cross remains above the door, perhaps scorched by the sun where a crucifix once sat. People welcome Joel as he enters, heads turning in their curiosity. You press a little closer to Joel's side.

The large room is bursting with noise and activity -- a flurry of conversations, the clink of cutlery, and laughter. You've not seen anything like it before, the mentality in the QZ not conducive to camaraderie. You can count on one hand the number of people you would have considered friends within those walls, and even that was a stretch. You and Joel join a line of people retrieving plates of food from a single window. 

"How long has all of this been here?" You ask, gesturing to the room. He looks around proudly.

"Ellie and I came across this town on accident after we went through hell leavin' Boston. The folks here set up their own quarantine zone and with bigger fish to fry, FEDRA sort of left ‘em alone. They were kind enough to take us in," he says. "After that, more people started showin' up lookin' for safety. Lots of people who escaped the QZs or had been on their own for a while and were tired of runnin'."

"Ellie says you save people," you comment, taking a step forward as the line moves. "What's that mean?"

"Every flock needs a shepherd."

You’re at the front of the line now, standing in front of the window. A woman appears, her face lighting up when she sees Joel.

“Joel! How are you?” She asks, leaning onto the ledge. Behind her you can see people moving quickly and efficiently around a stainless steel kitchen, large pots of food simmering on the stovetop. 

“Well enough,” he says. He places a hand on your shoulder. “We have a new guest. Make her plate nice and full for me?”

“Of course.” 

She gathers a plate from a precarious stack, loading it with a heaping pile of food ranging from mashed potatoes and stew to colorful vegetables that you haven’t seen in ages, not since before the outbreak when you were seven and your dad would make dinner rather than pass you a ration package. You’re speechless as she hands you the plate with a kind smile, a mumbled thank you the best you can manage to show your gratitude.

Joel is handed a plate as well and you follow him to a table where Ellie sits next to a man with white hair, her plate already empty in front of her. The man looks up at Joel as you approach, his expression closed off and wary. 

“Michael,” Joel says in greeting, jaw ticking. You take a seat beside Ellie, who to your surprise moves closer to you, arm brushing yours. “You botherin’ Ellie?”

The man, Michael, shakes his head. “No, sir. We were just having a little talk.”

“What about?” Joel sits on the opposite side of the table. He rips his bread roll in half. 

“Just some concerns I was having.”

“You bring your concerns to me. Not to her.”

The two men stare at each other, the tension thick and impossible to ignore. Finally, Michael gets up, leaving the table without another word. Ellie’s shoulder’s lose their tension and Joel catches her eye, the two of them seeming to have an entire conversation in just a look.

The moment passes and Joel’s features relax, a smile tilting the corners of his lips as he returns his attention to you and gestures to your plate.

“Dig in,” he says.

Joel walks you back to his home after dinner, the sky now dark. Ellie’s already closed herself in her room by the time the two of you return, having left the mess hall before you had finished eating. 

“Tired again?” Joel asks when you yawn, mouth open wide as you stretch your arms above your head. 

Your expression is sheepish as you say, “A little bit.”

“That’s to be expected,” he assures you. “You fought a hard fight. It’s okay to relax now. I’ve got you.”

“Thank you.” Your fingers tangle in the hem of the t-shirt he’d given you earlier. “I don’t know if I’ve said that already.”

“You’re welcome. Come on, let’s get you back upstairs. You can use the shower and get to bed.”

“Oh my god, a shower sounds amazing.”

He shows you the bathroom and helps you get the water running. Once he shows you where to find a towel, you smile gratefully before shutting the door on him.

Dismissed, Joel makes his way to Ellie’s room, knocking on the door. She answers quickly, opening up only enough for him to see her face.

“Yeah?” She asks.

“Can I come in?” 

She rolls her eyes but opens the door further, allowing him inside. Her room is smaller than his but far more decorated, pages ripped out of old magazines and comic books tacked to the wall. She takes a seat on her single bed, folding her legs beneath her.

“What did Michael talk to you about?” He asks. She shrugs her shoulders. Joel bites back a sigh. Sometimes he forgets what it was like to reason with a teenage girl. “Ellie.”

“He said” — she pauses, scratching at her wrist in the way that she will when she’s anxious — “he said that you were full of shit. That your fucked up ceremony isn’t helping any of them.”

Joel’s teeth grind together. “That all?”

“Called me a stupid kid for following what you say,” she mumbles. “Said everyone in town was stupid for believing you.”

“Thank you for tellin’ me,” he says. Rage burns in his veins as he turns to leave. 

“What are you gonna do?” Ellie asks as he reaches the door.

“I’m goin’ to teach him a lesson.”

He pulls the door shut behind him, tilting his head against the wood with a sigh. The click of a latch down the hall precedes your quiet, “Joel?”

Joel turns to face you, surprised to find you standing just outside the bathroom door with a towel tucked around your body. Water glistens on your skin in the low light, drawing his eyes down your neck and across your chest. He clears his throat.

“Everythin’ alright?” He asks. 

“Yeah, everything is fine,” you murmur. “I…could I get some new clothes?”

“Of course, should’a given you some before you showered. Sorry about that.” 

Joel walks past you, entering his bedroom and approaching the dresser. He tugs the top drawer open, full of clothing he’d gathered while you’d been asleep for more than a day. He piles together another t-shirt, sleep pants, and underwear, setting them on the bed for you. 

You’re standing in the doorway when he finishes and he fights the urge to go to you, to pull you close, to run his wretched hands over your body like he’s wanted to since he first saw you in the forest. 

He doesn’t, though. Not yet. You still have much to learn.

“Here you go,” he says. “Some more stuff in the drawers for you if you need it.”

Joel leaves you to get ready for bed, shutting the door behind him. He heads downstairs to grab what he’ll need, essentials shoved in a bag thrown over his shoulder before venturing off into the night.

Only a few lights continue to illuminate windows as Joel walks through the residential area. The house he approaches at the end of a street is already dark, quiet beyond the wood door that he knocks on three times. The door opens slowly, Michael appearing in the small space. 

“What?” He grunts.

“Come take a walk,” Joel says. Michael rolls his eyes, moving to shut the door but Joel’s boot blocks his effort. “I ain’t askin’, Michael.”

“Oh, yeah? What are you going to do?” He challenges. Joel throws his weight against the door, catching Michael by surprise enough for him to step into the house.

Joel throws an elbow into the man’s gut, making him double over with a groan. He circles behind him, kicking the back of his knee to send him to the ground. He pulls a length of chain from his pocket, looping it around Michael’s neck and pulling the ends.

Michael struggles, clawing at the garotte and thrashing wildly, but Joel holds strong. He tightens his grip further until Michael’s fight becomes sluggish, lack of oxygen finally causing him to go limp.

Joel releases the chain and Michael’s body slumps to the ground. He removes his backpack, digging through the contents until he finds a rusted pair of handcuffs that he uses to bind Michael’s arms behind his back. Next, he places a strip of duct tape over his mouth.

When he wakes, Joel will lead him out past the gate. He will find an unassuming home that rests outside the boundary of Crestone. He will open the hidden doors of the cellar, the ones covered in a layer of leaves and grass. From the darkness he will hear the echo of desperate groans and the rattle of chains and the angry attempts to break free from bindings. He will lead Michael down the dirt steps, the smell of rot and fear and death clawing at his olfactory nerves. 

He will place a burlap bag over a struggling Michael’s head and the man will beg and plead in words muffled by tape. Then, Joel will offer him for judgment.

A hand on you shoulder shakes you awake, the room still mostly dark when you manage to open your eyes. You groan, pulling the quilt up over your head.

“C’mon, we gotta get to breakfast,” Ellie says. The cover gets yanked down and she gives you a mischievous grin. 

“Where’s Joel?” You ask, sitting up slowly. She shrugs.

“Probably there already.”

You swing your legs over the side of the bed and stand, stretching your arms up. You grab the same jeans and socks from the day before, changing into them quickly and sitting down on the floor to pull your sneakers on. Ellie watches you, her foot tapping impatiently.

“You can go without me if you’re in a rush,” you offer. She shakes her head.

“I’m fine,” she says quickly. “You ready?”

“Sure.”

You follow her out of the house, her clipped pace difficult to keep up with due to your lingering pain. As the sun starts to rise and you pass by more of the houses, you notice something peculiar about some of them.

“What’s that?” You ask, pausing in front of one the houses. There’s a streak of what looks like dark red paint across the top of the door. Ellie doubles back and stands beside you.

“Protection,” she says. 

“From what?” 

She shifts her weight from foot to foot, uncomfortable with your line of questioning. Rather than answer, she walks away, leaving you to catch up to her or be left behind.

As the two of you start to walk through the square, there’s a rush of people around you. Shouting can be heard up ahead as a crowd comes into view, gathered around the front of the mess hall building. People press in close together, craning their necks to see over each other and catch a glimpse of whatever spectacle has their attention.

Ellie pushes through the crowd and you follow close on her heels until she manages to break through the other side of the wall of people. You catch glimpses of something writhing on the ground, something animal but not quite, something failed and fetid and foul. Another peek affords you a view of an arm littered with bite marks shaped by blunt teeth, deep gouges into their skin that shine red with blood and fester with disease.

Joel appears, stepping around the side of the building. The whispers cease, the crunch of Joel’s boots and pained groans the only noise to be heard in the stale air.

His dark eyes scan the crowd. People shrink back from his gaze, pressing closer to each other for relief. He reaches down, curling his fingers into the burlap material and yanking it off to reveal a man, familiar and yet not recognizable. Unseeing eyes, ashen skin, and dark red veins now the hallmark characteristics of the man you now remember as the one who had been talking to Ellie in the dining hall.

Joel draws a gun from his back, aiming it at Michael’s head. “Let this be a lesson,” he says, pulling the trigger.

The shot rings out, making you jump. The agonized sounds come to abrupt halt and his body goes limp, eyes still open as blood blooms on the ground around him. 

“No blood spilled. No blood saved,” Joel says. You look up from the horrible scene and meet his hard gaze. You step back, turning and shoving your way through the crowd.

Then, you run.

You’re frantically shoving clothing into your bag when a door slams downstairs and heavy footsteps climb the stairs at a quick pace. You can feel the burn of Joel's eyes on your back, his presence in the room thick and cloying as you refuse to turn around, even when he murmurs your name.

He moves closer, a hand on your shoulder prompting you to turn to break the connection. He holds his hands up in surrender, taking a step back as he says, "Let me explain."

"Explain? Explain?! How the fuck do you explain that?!" You snap. 

"If you'll just listen--"

"There's nothing you could possibly say that will--"

"Ellie is immune!" He shouts. Your words die on the tip of your tongue, lost to ether as you stare at Joel. 

"W-what do you mean? Immune?" You ask. 

He takes a deep breath. "I told you what my friend said. 'Save who you can save'. The first person I saved was Ellie."

"I helped her out of Boston, kept her safe, nearly lost my life if it meant keepin' her alive," He continues. "That's what I offer here."

"So you think you're....what? Some kind of god? That you can grant immunity?"

He huffs a laugh, the noise devoid of any humor. "God abandoned his worst experiment in their time of need. There is no god anymore, just the poor creatures he left behind. Someone had to take up the mantle."

"But how?"

"The ceremony," he says. 

"That’s not a fucking answer, Joel!” You shout. “What fucking ceremony?!”

“Blood spilled for blood saved. You can’t make it in this world without givin’ your everythin’ first.” He lifts the bottom of his shirt, just enough to reveal a jagged scar to the right of his belly button, shiny scar tissue disrupting smooth tan skin. “I did this for Ellie. Now everyone else has to do it for themselves.”

“I don’t…I don’t understand.” You take a small step closer to inspect the wound, raising your hand and reaching out with a tentative touch. Joel inhales sharply as you run your fingers across the puckered flesh. 

His hand wraps around your wrist, pulling your hand up and holding it against his chest. “It’ll be easier to show you, okay? There’s a ceremony in a couple days.”

“I don’t—“

“You’re just afraid because this is somethin’ new, but I promise you that you got nothin’ to be scared of. I’ll take care of you.” He lifts a hand to your face, tilting your chin with his thumb. “I just need you to trust me.”

His eyes are honest, earnest, pleading with you to believe him and the longer you search them, the more truth you seem to find. He will take care of you. You just know it.

“Okay.”

Dinner is served early on the day of the ceremony, the room buzzing with excited conversation. You haven’t seen Joel much the last few days, just passing glimpses, and Ellie says it’s because he has a lot to prepare for. Tonight there’s a woman at his side wearing a white dress that flows to the floor, black hair braided down her back. She smiles at Joel, hanging on every word you can’t hear. It makes your stomach clench in a weird way when her hand curls around his bicep and her head leans against his shoulder.

“That’s Marcy. She’s volunteered for the ceremony,” Ellie says. She’s sitting across from you, a smirk on her lips. “S’why she’s been hanging around Joel the last few days. Joel’s gotta prepare her.”

“Oh,” is all you manage to reply, picking at the vegetables on your plate. “What does…what does he do? To prepare her.”

She shrugs. “Dunno.”

You glance at the pair. Joel leans in close to the woman, whispering into her ear. Your fingernails dig into the meat of your palm, your hands curled into tight fists beneath the table. He stands, a hand on the woman’s shoulder as he calls the people to attention, voices fading until silence envelops the room. 

“Tonight,” Joel says, “another is to be saved. And we will all bear witness to the gift of deliverance that only self-sacrifice can grant.”

It’s only a few words, but the power in them is palpable as you glance around the room at the entire town watching him with rapt attention. His eyes meet yours.

“Save who you can save,” he intones. A chill runs down your spine.

“Save who you can save,” the town echoes back. 

The sun is already low on the horizon, twilight casting a soft glow on the scene. You stand at the back of the crowd, watching as Joel leads Marcy onto a raised wooden platform. Another man joins them, passing something wrapped in cloth into Joel’s outstretched hands. 

“The thing about the world today,” Joel says, unwrapping the cloth to reveal a large knife, “is that there ain’t a single guarantee.” He looks out over the crowd. “Except here, within these walls. Why? Because here you’ll make the greatest sacrifice and earn the greatest reward.”

He begins to pace the length of the platform, knife in hand. “Givin’ your blood in exchange for your safety? That doesn’t sound so bad, right?” The people around you nod their heads in agreement. “You’ve seen what that sacrifice can do. I did it for Ellie. I did it for myself. And tonight—“ he places a hand on Marcy’s shoulder “—another has made the choice to earn that gift of protection.”

A cheer erupts, spreading through the crowd through shouts and applause. You find yourself joining them, clapping your hands together as you continue to watch Joel. 

“Marcy,” Joel says. “What brings you here today?”

“No blood spilled, no blood saved,” she recites dutifully. 

“Are you afraid?” He asks.

“No,” she says.

“Why?”

“Because I trust in your protection.”

Joel smiles at her, beaming with pride, and that knot in your stomach from earlier returns with a vengeance. You want him to look at you like that.

He stands in front of her, blocking her from view with his body. A hush falls over the crowd and from the silence erupts an anguished scream. You flinch, the sound piercing and painful and petrifying, though it seems to have taken nobody else by surprise.

Another scream as he jerks his arm back, the knife in his hand now stained with red that slides down the blade, dripping to the wood beneath his feet. He steps to the side and you can see the woman now, her hands pressed to her belly. Crimson blooms beneath her hands, marring her pretty white dress and leaching the color and vitality from her face. She drops to her knees and so does Joel, who wraps an arm around her shoulders and gently guides her until she’s lying on her back. He holds her hand and smooths her hair from her face as she just repeats, “Thank you.”

Slowly, the strength in her voice fades. Her arm goes limp in his grasp, dropping to the floor with a dull thud as her eyes flutter shut. Joel whistles sharply, three men rushing up the platform and lifting the girl into their arms, careful not to jostle her too much. Joel remains kneeling, his head turning to scan the crowd.

“We are born covered in blood,” he says. “It gives you protection from the outside world when you’re wrenched from the womb. And it will protect you now as it is wrenched from you.”

He steps off the platform and walks past the crowd, heading for the residential street. Everyone shuffles forward, moving en masse like sheep following their shepherd or cattle to the slaughter. You’re led to one of the smaller homes and you watch as Joel smooths the flat of the blade across his hand, gathering blood in his palm. 

He places his palm on the door, smearing the blood across the faded blue paint. When he’s done, he turns to face the crowd.

“Marcy has earned her protection. Those of you among us that have not yet made your sacrifice, may you return home this evenin’ and realize that each passin’ day is a wasted opportunity for your salvation.” His serious expression softens as he smiles. “No blood spilled.”

“No blood saved,” the crowd says.

To your surprise, the words fall easily from your lips.

Joel shuts the door quietly behind him. He’s just finished checking on Marcy and was pleased to find that her wound has been dressed and she’s recovering well. At the kitchen sink he runs the water as hot as he can tolerate and scrubs his hands clean.

He can hear faint footsteps upstairs, the sound of your pacing back and forth in his bedroom. He’s pleased that you stayed through the entire ceremony, didn’t run away filled with fear or disgust like you had watching him make an example out of Michael. 

There’s hope for you yet.

Joel dries his hands on a towel and heads upstairs. He glances at Ellie’s room out of habit, though he knows it’s empty. She likes to help out after the ceremony, usually sticking beside the town nurse, Shelly, as she monitors the person who participated in the ceremony over night. 

The door to his bedroom is shut but he can see that the light is on, the glow of it seeping out from the gap beneath the door. He knocks, three sharp raps of his knuckles, and waits.

You pull the door open, and Joel is once again struck by how much he wants you, how much he’s craved you since the first time he saw you. You look up at him with wide eyes but he doesn’t sense any fear as you pull the door open further and step back to let him enter.

“You doin’ okay?” He asks, shutting the door quietly behind him. You’re standing with your arms wrapped around yourself, nodding quietly. Joel moves closer, tentatively reaching out to tilt your chin up so that he’s looking into your eyes. “Talk to me.”

“I….,” your voice trails off. You take a breath. “I want that protection.”

He was hoping you would say that. Relief floods through him.

“I can’t do that,” he says. Your brows pinch together, hurt flashing across your features. “I won’t have your blood on my hands.”

“But—“

“Listen to me—“ his hands frame your face, thumbs smoothing over the high points of your cheeks “—you’re meant for somethin’ different here.”

“Something different?” You repeat. You shake your head slightly. “I don’t understand.”

“From the moment I saw you, I knew I couldn’t let you lose a drop,” he whispers. “You don’t need to bleed, sweetheart. Not like them. I’ll protect you myself.”

Your mouth drops open the slightest bit, drawing Joel’s gaze. He slides his thumb across your bottom lip, mesmerized by the softness of it. There’s not much about his life the last twenty or so years that he would call soft.

There was his brother, Tommy, even though they couldn’t see eye to eye and had to part ways. His daughter, Sarah, before the outbreak. She took care of him, made sure he took his vitamins and packed his lunch and didn’t miss a parent-teacher conference. She was light and joy, his heart outside of his body, and she was ripped from his grasp.

There was Tess, who was not a soft person but was a soft place to land among the carnage. Bill, ornery though he was, and Frank, arguably his better half. They were a breath of normalcy, even when Bill had a gun trained on him. Ellie, once she quit being a pain in the ass and wormed her way into his heart with her promise to follow him wherever he went.

And now there was you.

“Will you let me do that?” Joel asks. “Protect you?”

You lift your hands, delicate fingers wrapping around his wrists. He wonders if you can feel the rapid beat of his heart, his pulse pounding beneath your grip. Finally, after a long moment, you whisper, “Yes.”

Joel captures your lips with his, swallowing your gasp of surprise. You’re tentative, a bit clumsy with your movements as you kiss back and he pulls away, leaning his forehead to yours.

“I-I’m sorry,” you murmur. “I’ve never—“

“Don’t worry, baby, I’ll take care of you.”

“Don’t worry, baby, I’ll take care of you.”

While his words don’t stop your pulse from racing, they do calm your nerves the slightest bit. It’s not that you’ve never been interested in sex, there was just never a good opportunity. Going through puberty in an apocalypse where a militant government faction monitors your every move in exchange for basic necessities wasn’t exactly conducive to forming intimate relationships. 

While you’re lost in your thoughts, Joel moves you backwards until your legs hit the mattress and he urges you to sit down. He kneels in front of you, working on the laces of your sneakers, removing them and setting them to the side. He looks up at you as he removes your socks and you’re not sure if you're supposed to find the sight of him kneeling at your feet as sexy as you do, but a rush of warmth rolls through you all the same.

He runs his palms up your legs, across your thighs, until his fingertips find the waist of your jeans, popping the button of the fly and pulling the zipper down. 

“Lift your hips a bit, sweetheart,” he says, working the denim down and off your legs, tossing them aside. His hands return to your thighs, goosebumps erupting along their path to your hips. 

“No one’s touched you here?” He asks, here being the soft skin of your inner thigh that his thumbs sweep across. You shake your head. He moves higher, a featherlight touch over the elastic of your underwear that makes you gasp. “What about here?”

“N-no,” you manage to whisper. He smiles at you, the same proud smile he’d given Marcy that you were so desperate to have for yourself. 

“Good girl,” he murmurs. He kisses the inside of your knee quickly before sitting up higher, reaching up to lift your shirt up, tugging it over your head and dropping it onto the growing pile of your clothing.

“Lie back for me,” Joel commands. You shift up the mattress and follow his instruction, bringing your arms up to cover your exposed breasts. He makes a dissatisfied click with his tongue, pulling your arms away as he crawls up the mattress to settle between your legs.

“None of that,” he admonishes, planting your hands by your head. He kisses your lips again, butterflies erupting in your stomach when his tongue tangles with yours, hot and demanding. He palms one of your breasts, hands rough on the delicate skin. “This is mine, do you understand?”

Joel brings his mouth to your breast, tongue swirling over your stiff nipple. You cry out, the foreign sensation making more heat rush through you, leaving you throbbing between your thighs. He looks up at you through his lashes as he sucks your nipple between his lips, releasing it with a lewd pop.

“Mine to touch,” he says, leaning on one arm to trail his fingers down your stomach. “Mine to kiss.” His lips trace the same heated path. “Mine to protect.”

When he reaches your underwear, he pulls back. “Look at that,” he murmurs, thumb rubbing across the gusset, making you whimper and squirm. “You’ve soaked your panties, sweetheart.”

Your face feels hot with embarrassment. “‘M sorry,” you mumble.

“Sorry? Ain’t nothin’ you need to be sorry about,” he says with a chuckle. He sits up, working your only remaining barrier between you down your legs. He spreads your legs with his hands on your thighs. “Goddamn, you look so pretty, baby.”

“Really?” You ask. His answering grin is wolfish. 

“So pretty,” he repeats. He settles on his belly, face so close to your pussy you can feel the warmth of his breath against your heated flesh. “Gotta get you ready.”

Your response to the question is cut off with a high pitched moan as Joel runs his tongue through your folds, circling your clit with broad strokes. You try to close your legs against the sensation but his strong hands keep your thighs pinned down near the mattress.

He groans as he sets a slow and measured pace, alternating attention to your clit with dipping his tongue inside of you, dragging your essence from the source. Your hands clench in the sheets, chasing and retreating from the overwhelming sensation in equal measure.

There’s a blunt pressure that turns into a slight pinch as Joel slips a finger into your tight heat. Your head tilts back with a high keening noise and you’re panting, desperate for breath as he moves his hand in tandem with his tongue.

One finger becomes two that thrust and curl and part inside of you, stretching you in unfamiliar ways. It feels good, and all you want is more, more, more.

Joel’s hand moves quickly and he sucks on your clit, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bundle of nerves until that flood of relief that you’ve only accomplished a handful of times on your own washes over you, your back arching sharply off the mattress as you shout his name like a prayer to the heavens.

His motions slow to a stop and he leaves the bed. You hear the clink of a belt and the rustle of clothing being removed before his weight returns between your legs, a new heat to be felt against your flushed skin with his clothes no longer in the way. With shaky hands you reach up to touch him, starting at his shoulders.

You trail your hands across his warm tan skin, down his hard chest and softer belly. That scar, the one that frightened you before, leaves you breathless as you run your fingers over it now. He’s so strong, so powerful, and he wants you. Wants to protect you so that you don’t know that same pain.

“Joel,” you whisper. He leans forward, hands on the mattress beside your head. He kisses you, slow and all encompassing. You can feel the hard length of his sliding through the mess he’s made of you and you gasp.

“Let me make one thing clear,” he says, face serious, “there ain’t any goin’ back from this. You’re mine. You got that?”

“I trust you,” you reply. Your response earns you a deep groan from the man, a kiss to your forehead that precedes the blunt head of his cock pressing to your soaked entrance.

His cock is thicker, much thicker, than his fingers were and you whine at the intrusion. His shushes you, peppering your face with soothing kisses. 

“I don’t think—“

“You’re doin’ so good, sweetheart, I know you can handle it,” Joel says. “Take a deep breath, just a little more.”

Tension gives way, a sharp pinch that turns into an ache as Joel presses his hips firmly against yours. He kisses your neck and trails his nose across your sweat damp skin, holding still as you adjust to his girth.

You shift your hips the slightest bit and Joel’s moan echoes your gasp. “Tell me I can move,” he begs, another desperate kiss pressed to your lips. “Please, baby.”

There’s something heady about the power you have in this brief moment, a man like Joel begging you for something when he’s used to having everything. You nod and that’s all the encouragement he needs to draw back slowly, that fullness leaving you inch by inch, before thrusting sharply.

It’s unlike any experience you’ve had before — the way his body moves with yours, the flex of his muscles above you, the intense look in his eyes each time he presses inside of you.

“Made for me,” he murmurs. “Mine.”

“Yours,” you agree, moaning as each drag of his cock presses against a tender spot inside of you that has your stomach tightening rapidly.

His effort doubles, hips slamming hard enough to make the headboard bang against the wall. You dig your nails into his back, watch the clench of his jaw against the sting, and moan his name as you succumb to the feeling of free falling into bliss, clenching around his cock.

“That’s it, sweetheart, fuck,” he growls, hips stilling against yours as warmth pulses inside of you, his mouth dropped open on a groan of your name.

Joel takes a moment to catch his breath before withdrawing from you. He reaches his hand between your legs, pressing his fingers into your swollen pussy as you gasp.

He holds those fingers up, the light catching on the red staining them.

Perhaps you’d spilled blood for your safety after all.

You wake to the early morning light filtering through the window, a noticeable ache between your legs as you begin to stir. You’re naked, having fallen asleep in Joel’s arms last night, his lips caressing your neck until you’d drifted off and dreamt of blood and wolves. You stretch your limbs, encountering only cold sheets as you do.

As you sit up, you realize the sound of rushing water is the shower and surmise that Joel must be in there. With stiff movements you leave the warmth of the bed and approach the dresser, tugging open the top drawer to find clothing for the day.

You’re reaching for underwear when your fingers catch on something cold, metal in a sea of fabric. You pull on the object, unearthing it from its hiding spot and holding it up for inspection.

A cross, hanging from a silver chain. A chain you would tangle your fingers in as a child, a cross that a thumb would rub across as a deep, familiar voice muttered prayers.

The shower turns off and you take one last look at the crucifix before setting it back into the dark corner you’d unearthed it from.

Then, you shut the drawer. 

Joel Miller masterlist

All masterlists

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel tlou #no use of y/n #joel x reader #dark content #cult leader!joel miller #cw age gap #cw dubcon #cw age difference #dark!joel miller #dark!joel x reader #dark joel miller

[seresinhangmanjake]

Stolen Angel

Demon!Jake Seresin x Reader

Summary: You thought you were having a one-night stand with some random, normal guy. Turns out he's a winged, demon-like stalker who has been obsessed with you for years.

Warnings/Notes: Jake is a little dark. Kidnapping. Manipulation. Descriptions of blood and pain. Obsessive behavior. Eventual fluff and smut. I'm sure there are typos. This is part 1 of a mini-series. This used to be a different fic for August Walker, so if you see it, it's fine. I wrote that one too.

Words: 1600

Part 2, Part 3

You didn’t believe in fate. You didn’t believe your life was predestined or anyone else’s to play with. It was yours alone. Yours to lead, to control, to make choices, good or bad. Only you decided when you did things and where you did them, and no one could have convinced you otherwise. But then you met him. He who showed you how wrong you were. 

When you think of the moment you saw him enter the club where you worked, remembering the way your eyes met the minute his body was clear of the door, you could laugh at everything you once believed about controlling your own destiny. The building would’ve been pitch black if not for the blue and purple strobe lights; you could hardly see the patrons in front of you as they shouted their drink orders, and yet, from the opposite side of the massive room, he was in clear view. Your lips had parted to suck in a breath when he smirked, and it was that slight quirk of his lips that had you forgetting yourself. You were instantly drawn to him as if there was a string tied between you that slowly shortened as the night went on. 

In hindsight, it should have been so damn obvious, or would have been had you known it was possible for someone to control you the way he did. You weren’t yourself when he approached you. You didn’t hesitate to kiss him without having spoken a single word to him. You took him home without knowing his name. But now that whatever power he had over you has worn off, you see that night for what it really was. A trick. A manipulated encounter. He had his sights set on you, and a one-night stand was never going to be a one-night stand. What it was, was an animal finally claiming the prey he’d been stalking for god knows how long. 

—

It’s the third day. Third of eight. 

Jake promised the pain would subside as the days passed—that you’ll get used to it; adapt—but to your great and utter shock, he has once again proven to be a liar. Every few hours, the wings rip your skin wider to accommodate their size as they grow and push for freedom from your body. At three days, they’re the span of a couple of feet, a few feathers shining opalescent in a slim ray of the sun. 

As you lay on your stomach, your body is still except for the shallow breaths that occasionally cause you to quiver. With the bloodied wings draped over your back, you try to understand the depth of the pain; how it is able to hurt the way it does. The feeling doesn’t compare to anything you’ve experienced. So different, so unnatural and indescribably excruciating. It’s a merciless pain. All-consuming. It swallows you rather than localize where the skin of your back is shredding open. 

“Just a few more days,” Jake says. 

You flinch at his voice. Each time he speaks you’re shocked he has remained at your side, his massive black wings hanging over the back of the chair he sits in as he watches you. Those monstrosities weren’t attached to his muscled back when you met him; nowhere in sight when he was in your bed.

With a cool cloth, Jake dabs at your broken and bleeding skin, eliciting little whimpers from your chapped lips. “I know it hurts, Angel,” he says. 

“Don’t–” you force out despite the fire in your throat and the wave of nausea that follows. “Don’t c-call me that.”

He sighs and continues to wipe the bloody flesh of your naked form. “I wish you wouldn’t say things like that. When it’s over, you will feel so much better about all of this, and about me. You’re gorgeous already, and the wings will only add to your beauty. You’ll thank me.”

“I di-didn’t want–”

“Don’t talk, Angel,” he tells you. His tone is gentle, but there’s an underlying command to his words. “I know it’s confusing, but anyone who crosses into my world has to grow wings. This has to happen so you can be with me.”

You let out a sudden scream as the wings tear you open a few more centimeters. Jake quickly scoots his chair closer to the bed to brush the damp hair from your face. He softly shushes you before leaning down and placing a kiss on your sweaty forehead. You would slap him, push him away if you had the strength, but you can’t move. Your lungs are tightening, body burning as if licked by the sun. 

At first, you didn't understand what was happening to you, but now you know exactly what this is. You’re dying, morphing into a horrid creature from fantasies and leaving behind all traces of humanity. In your veins, you feel something foreign coursing and altering your DNA. You’re pretty sure you still look like you, for the most part, but you aren’t you. Not anymore. This man—practically a stranger—is turning you into a beast.

—

It’s five more nights of torture before you’re able to properly inhale and exhale, but even so, the air around you is just as foreign as the pain you had trudged through. It tastes…off, and you find little comfort in it being your source of oxygen. 

“You’re awake.”

His smooth voice draws your eyes away from the scenery outside of the one window in the room. Your first true glimpse of this world since he brought you here, and it’s a stunning sight of lush rolling hills and fields of blooming flowers under a plane of blue sky. It reminds you of home before you moved to the city. So much so that you’re convinced it’s an illusion crafted by devilish fingers for your comfort, not unlike his beauty. 

You hate how he looks. Golden hair, mossy eyes, and those black-as-night wings that you saw for the first time when they’d suddenly appeared after you’d slept together. Right before he drugged and stole you. 

“And you’re standing already,” he continues. “I hoped to come help you, but you’re clearly much stronger than I was after I grew my wings.” 

Your irises flash with a burst of anger before you tear them away from his, back to the hills whose grass sways in the breeze. You unintentionally let that breeze, along with the chirp of a bird and the glisten of the sun off of a small lake, distract you from Jake’s approach. You freeze at his breath brushing your ear, and when he slips his rough fingers through the layers of your shimmering feathers, you struggle to contain the shiver that shoots down your spine. You hear the ruffling of his own feathers as he touches his creation. 

“So beautiful,” he whispers. 

You scoff. “I’m glad you’re proud of your work.”

Jake lets out a puff of air, a weak laugh. “My work? Angel, this was all you. I knew they would be beautiful simply because they are a part of you, but you far surpassed my expectations. You should be proud.”

Whipping around, you meet him chest to chest, eyes burning with an intensity that crashes into his. “I should be proud?” you growl. “You forced this on me.”

“And you survived. Not many can say the same. You’ve come out stronger.” His hand trails through your feathers again. This time, you fight off the tingles.

“I’ve come out of this wanting to kill you even more,” you say, tucking the wing behind you so it’s out of his reach. 

If he heard you, it doesn’t show. Or maybe he refuses to acknowledge what he doesn’t want to hear. Either way, he doesn't respond. Instead, his gaze falls to your lips and he carefully cups your chin between his fingers. His face inches closer and closer, but before his lips can meet yours, you plant your hands firmly on his chest and shove hard. 

Jake stumbles back with a chuckle. “Definitely stronger.”

“I’m not going to let you kiss me,” you snap. 

“Not today, it would seem.”

“Not ever again!” 

Though you’re seething with hatred, those words taste sour on your tongue, each one more so than the last. They feel wrong, like some part of your mind is disappointed in you for speaking them, for denying his kiss and pushing him away, but you tamp it down. You’re just overwhelmed as your brain struggles to adjust to the situation. That explains it. 

“You will come around, Angel,” he says, crossing his arms. “You and I have eternity. One day you will wake up and realize that I am all you have. I will be all that you want, and this memory of pain will be long lost. All you will know is me and my touch and our world. We will be happy, I promise.”

As he speaks his eyes hold a delicate sincerity that you wish wasn’t there. You wish the green of them wasn’t so powerfully conveying his feelings. 

You shake your head. “You’re a monster.”

Jake calmly steps back into your space, catching you off guard as he looms over you. You keep his stare, even with your back pressed into the wall, wings spread against the stone. 

“You may breathe your sweet words all you like, Angel. It changes nothing,” he says, running a knuckle down your cheek. “If I am a monster, I am your monster, and I am not going anywhere.” His lips peel back in a smile. “Luckily for me, neither are you.”

tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @ravenhood2792 @djs8891 @shakespeareanwannabe @penguin876 @tgmavericklover @athenabarnes @emilyoflanternhill @wretchedmo @shanimallina87 @crowsreadsarahjmaas @mamachasesmayhem @sky2nd @jessicab1991 @rosedurin @averyhotchner @horseshoegirl @roosteraloha @b-bradshaw

#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #top gun maverick #jake seresin fic #top gun #jake hangman seresin fic #top gun hangman #jake hangman seresin x y/n #jake seresin au #demon!jake seresin #tgm #tgm fic

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

remember how charlie started dating her gf back when she thought vaggie was a sinner who'd earned a place in hell, and then she found out the gf used to be a murder angel and got angry / hurt bc SHE tells vaggie everything so why didn't vaggie trust her with the angel thing??? does vaggie not really LOVE her????? oh yeah and murder bad too whatever- OH WAIT SO VAGGIE /DOES/ LOVE HER!? fuck yeah who cares about murder! the angel gf's wings are hot and charlie Will Hug Her

what im saying is... charlie doesn't just TALK about the fluffy vague idea of redemption

she's been living it this whole time

we see her CHOOSE to stay with vaggie even after having the exact terrible bad things vaggie did shoved in her face. there's no "she's just naive" excuse here

she knows. her kindness and hope doesn't come from a LACK of knowing how bad things or people can be

but that was vaggie's past. charlie talks about a breach of trust, of vaggie not trusting her with the truth, of the fear that other things between them hadn't been true too- Those are all PRESENT vaggie issues. they're all questions about the woman vaggie is NOW, and what kind of relationship charlie has with her, today

even charlie's line wondering if vaggie would've told her about an angel's weakness- it's not, "oh you're still one of them", it's "now i know there was something else important that you didn't tell me"

it's so quiet. that kind of, amazing moment. where charlie just unravels the whole idea of sin and flicks it away, like a speck of dust

being reminded of how many ways vaggie SHOWS who she is and who CHARLIE is to her, that settles charlie, answers all her worries and questions (she can trust vaggie) (vaggie is in this with her no matter what)- because none of them, those fears and pains, were about what vaggie had been

that's how the hotel can work. it's built on something REALLY strong- it's built on charlie honestly meaning what she says, and vaggie truly actively being her partner in it

we can't SEE that happening without looking at THEM

(we see people not taking them, or charlie, seriously- and getting fucked up when they Find Out)

them being and staying together is proof that the hotel can work, that angels can sin and seek redemption, that people- even sinners- can change

and when they change there'll be at least one place where they can BE that new person

at the hazbin hotel

#hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #vaggie #chaggie #too manny thoguhts #you don't understand #how much i love charlie #how punishment or revenge is never part of her idea of justice #she just wants #things to be BETTER #because she knows they're bad right now #and believes they don't HAVE to be #and she's right #her and vaggie #and their hotel- how it ended up feeling like HOME to their friends- a space that's safe and THEIRS and worth fighting for #shows just how right she is

[felice-jaganshi]

My Fallen Apple

Lucifer X Reader

Chapter 1

You weren't originally supposed to be in hell. You only ended up here after telling Adam you refused to be his Third wife. He was a bitter prick about it, and shoved you out of heaven. Last thing you saw as you fell, was the look of shock and regret on his face. Not that you cared. He didn't deserve your forgiveness or pity…

Next thing you knew when you opened your eyes was pain. A burning sensation from your back. Oh fuck, your wings! They- they're not supposed to bend like that! You scream in agony and despair, realizing you'd broken and bent your wings! There was no way to fly back up to heaven now!

“Someone… Someone help!” You cried out, hoping maybe somehow one of your friends in heaven could hear your prayers. But… it was pointless. No prayers from hell could ever reach heaven, not even from an angel. Now here you were… fallen.

“Whoa! That looks pretty bad.” A voice, footsteps getting closer!

“Please! I- I don't belong here!” You tried to sit up, barely managing it with a sob. You look up to see who the voice belonged to.

“I'll say, you're in my garden, almost landed in my rose bushes too.” A short man with blonde hair frowned at you with his arms crossed. “I swear, just because my wife has been off working for seven years, doesn't mean I'm magically single! How did you get in here?”

“I… fell… who are you?” He looked surprised by your words.

“Who am I?! You're kidding right?” You shook your head, and he got serious.

“where did you fall from?”

“Heaven…” He took a deep breath through his nose.

“I see…” He started walking towards you, and you started to pull your wings around to shield yourself, having forgotten they were broken. This made the firey pain flare back up! You hadn't noticed it go numb earlier, but now, you wished you hadn't moved them! You couldn't help the whimper that escaped your lips. It made him stop moving. 

“H- hey, I'm… I'm not gonna hurt you.” His voice was soft and low. “I promise, I just wanna help. Will you let me?” He held out his empty hands, waiting for permission before moving even a single step closer.

“Y-you still didn't answer my question. Who are you?” You had a sinking feeling…

“Me? Oh, nobody. Just the big boss of hell himself!” He chuckled at his own humor before shooting you a grin, “Call me Lucifer. And you are?”

Before you could answer, the world went dark, and you fell unconscious again.

The next time you open your eyes, you're in bed. A dream then. Thank God! But why have a nightmare about getting kicked out of heaven? Was it a warning Adam was gonna be a pissy shit when you gave him your answer today? You finally open your eyes and realize… this isn't your room. And… this isn't your bed! You sit up, wings curling around yourself as a shield and looking around frantically! Everything was extravagant and gilded! Some kind of palace suite? Then… oh. OH FUCK! YOU REALLY DID MEET LUCIFER!

“Oh hey, you're up! Great, hungry? I made pancakes.” The devil himself entered the room with a syrup soaked stack, steaming and fresh. Before you could refuse him, your stomach growled loudly, answering for you.

“I didn't think the devil would cook his own meals…” was all you could think to say. He set the tray in front of you, there was even a glass of juice.

“Why wouldn't I? Best way to make sure no one poisons me! Haha, not that it'd actually kill me.” He smiled, “oh, and you're welcome for healing you by the way. Once you're done eating, you can head back on up home.” He smiled and made a wing flapping motion with his arms. You giggle, it was kind of cute. He was so tiny, and handsome in a cute way. Not at all how heaven described him.

“You're… different from how heaven said you'd be.” You say, before eating some of the food he'd been generous enough to share. They were apple flavored.

“Oh really? And how is heaven describing me to you younger angels these days?” He raised an eyebrow, genuinely curious. 

“They said you would be cruel. Take joy in the pain and suffering of others. That you didn't know how to laugh or smile, only how to hate and hurt… but, you just proved all of that wrong.”

Lucifer was shocked, “I… that's how they think of me? My own siblings are telling people this?” He looked hurt, gripping a hand to his heart. “Mikey and Gabe… they know I'm not… that I'd never…”

You got up from the bed, you couldn't stand seeing him like this, on the edge of tears from your own words! You should have found a gentler way to… ah fuck it, too late for that now. You pull him into a hug, wrapping your wings around him.

“I'm sorry.” You kept your tone soft and genuine, and that seemed to be the last straw. He hugged back and started bawling into your shoulder! 

Now here you are, fallen from heaven, showing sympathy to the devil. You rubbed his back in soothing circles. “It's alright, let it all out, I got you.”

You weren't originally supposed to be in hell, but it didn't seem like such a bad place to be really.

(This was written for a very dear friend of mine. She's crazy for Lucifer, and I'm crazy about her so... yeah! Hope you all like it as much as she has!)

#lucifer morningstar #lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel #fallen apple #fallen angel

[rubra-wav]

Main Hazbin Hotel cast x fallen angel reader who wants to cut off their wings (drabble - hc format)

Req by: @lightmoon99

A/N: I fucking love fallen angel angst type content, it's my bread and butter. I hope I was able to do it some justice <3

Cw: SFW, decapitation, a bit angsty, platonic, cannibalism, Gn!Reader

-

When you had fallen from heaven to hell, your hate for your more angelic attributes that had already existed before the fall only deepened.

You hated the sensation of the weight that signified your wings were, in fact, still there even when your halo had been taken when the exterminators had left you to die here.

You hated that you had to feel the pain of your attempt to hide them under cloaks and baggy clothes with ropes pinning them to your back.

When you came to the hazbin hotel, you were open from the get-go with Charlie, hoping she would sympathise being the daughter of a fallen angel herself.

It of course didn't take long for others in the hotel to find out you are a fallen angel, however it did take longer for them to find out simultaneously during a group exercise that you wanted to discard any and all heavenly reminders of what you used to be.

Charlie

- She's horrified when you bring out your wings in a flourish and say such a thing while gesturing to them.

- It's not too surprising considering you hide them practically all the time, but it still fills her with a sense of grief for you to think such a thing.

- She immediately tries to shut it down, telling you that you shouldn't hurt yourself and should be proud you have such gorgeous wings!

- Would apologise and go silent when she realises how badly she's messed up in saying that seeing your expression.

- Only continues speaking to dissuade some of the poor ideas coming from others in the group.

- She'd probably try to think up ways to make it up to you after the meeting.

- Probably tries to suggest doing some trauma work type things? She doesn't know a lot about that kind of thing, but she could get some books on it to try!

- Actually ends up learning a bit about trauma treatment stuff outside of the awful pop culture live love laugh stuff she's on about most of the time.

- Ends up helping out with you coping a bit better in the end due to that.

- Keeps trying but fails to do anything to dissuade certain members of the hotel to stop encouraging you to remove your wings, however.

Vaggie

- She's stung as a wingless fallen angel herself that you'd want to do such a thing.

- But she also understands all the same why you'd feel that way.

- Would respond in a way that's understanding, but ultimately awkward and clunky due to how she is normally.

- Made worse due to her own angst about it.

- Afterwards, she would probably try to have a private chat to you about it since it's clear you're struggling and logically she's gonna probably be the one most understanding.

- May even reveal she's a fallen too if you're close to try and give you a feeling of comradery in a pretty bleak way.

- She's got basically the opposite of what you've got, but it'd still be bonding and mutual support.

- Would be emotionally supporting you and encouraging you to try work through the trauma rather than harming / cutting off your wings.

- What the hotel doesn't have is a doctor, so you'd be screwed if you decapitated a part of yourself.

- She doesn't want you to feel inclined towards taking up certain members' offers either.

- She knows that the others are not going to stop with their bullshit so she actively tries to educate you on what they are up to really and all the risks that come with.

Angel

- When he first hears it, he cringes very noticeably despite his usual persona.

- The definition of 'that's rough, buddy.'

- He feels terrible for you that you'd feel such a way, but he also has absolutely no clue how to express it at all.

- Probably would be the type to try distract you from the bad by having fun, so he'd be trying to get you to hang out with him and either go to parties or go on various shenanigans.

- He's not good at emotionally comforting people at all, so he's awkward as hell and at loss when it gets particularly bad for you.

- But he's always there to try do activities with you to take your mind off of it.

- And he also needs it as well honestly. It's nice having someone who's also feeling shitty so you can mutually drag each other out to do things rather than wallowing in bs and feeling worse and worse.

- Probably calls out Cherry as well because she's always good at cheering him up.

- He knows quite a few people from a lot of different walks of life, so chances are he could get you in contact with someone who'd be able to perform removal surgery if after everything you still want it done.

- No strings attached as well with his assistance, unlike Alastor.

Husk

- He'd not really react at all initially outside of maybe raising his brows at your comment.

- Obviously, it's bad, but he just prefers to play his cards to his chest with how he truly feels about things.

- Would be actively being bitter as fuck at most of the other residents suggesting stupid shit though in a way that's honestly protective.

- Basically shuts all of them down one by one, calling them out on their crap.

- When Alastor points out how he 'seems to care awfully much about you' Husk scoffs and tells him to fuck off.

- Shuts up for the rest of the group part of the interaction.

- Afterwards though, he'd have a private conversation with you and actually gives you some good advice.

- Tells you that you should do whatever the hell you want but also to not let the opinions and thoughts others dictate that.

- If you want to do that, it's really your decision, and nobody has any right to try to tell you what you should do with your own wings.

- Doesn't really share his own opinion on what he thinks you should do because it's asinine and would be hypocritical to what he's encouraging.

- Just encourages you to think for yourself rather than just going with what the idiots and asshole are trying to fill your head with.

- And if you do decide to get them removed? Make sure to be safe with it.

Sir Pentious

- He very obviously feels bad for you. He shows it all over his face but also has no clue how to express it properly.

- So, naturally, he automatically goes to propose a practical solution to the problem.

- "I can do that for you, my fallen friend! I have experience with my creations, so I should be able to attemp-"

- He doesn't even get to finish his sentence before he's very rudely interrupted by Husk and told to fuck off with that shitty idea.

- Visibly deflates when he's told he's not a doctor and is just some inventor wannabe.

- He'd shut up for the rest of the meeting, moping and glaring between Husk and Alastor.

- But afterwards, he's approaching you saying he would try his best to do it if you asked.

- Would go and start researching how to do the procedure and starts meticulously learning about how to properly do it.

- Whether you decide on him doing the procedure or not, he wants to be ready just in case.

- He has no idea how to emotionally provide for you properly in this situation, so he's doing what he does best and is working practically. He's all open to any way he can be of assistance, however.

- Absolutely asked his eggs for advice on what to do and got nowhere.

Alastor

- Person number 2 who receives a resounding 'shut up' message via Husk.

- His eyes absolutely light up when you say you want to remove your wings, grin widening as he takes on a sweet tone that does not match his intentions at all.

- "Well, that could certainly be arranged, darling."

- Asks if you'd like to make a deal for your wings in exchange for something you want from him. He'd take you to someone skilled enough to do the operation.

- He wants a meal that is heavenly in a completely different kinda way.

- It's not every day you get to eat angel wings. And it wasn't like you wanted them, and he sure did.

- Even if you're friends, he wants to win the rare delicacy competition he has going with Rosie. If he bought some skilfully cooked dish with your wings in it, he'd win without a shadow of a doubt.

- It's not like he'd be lying about getting them removed, either. Just his intentions for volunteering to do so.

- Shuts up about it after the first mention of it and being called out by Husk, going on about something different after.

- But he's already plotting out what he can do to get what he wants.

- Would actively be sabotaging Pentious the whole time he's studying how to do the procedure as well. Those wings are going to be his, and he will not be the second choice when you (in his mind at least) inevitably come to him for assistance.

- He won't actively make your misery worse, but he will act as a passive influence urging you towards his goal.

Niffty

- Would also say she can remove your wings.

- But, would then proceed to try and do just that without even allowing you to process what she's said.

- Gets caught thrashing around like a madwoman in mid-air by Vaggie who saw it coming from a mile away.

- Wants to get your wings taxidermied and framed because she thinks they would make an excellent decorative piece in the hotel.

- Would then need to be kept in sight at all times away from you as she would be repeatedly trying again and again to destroy the cloaks you wear to hide your wings to get to them.

- Already had been collecting your feathers for several months and had already sorted those into a freaky art piece.

- So she's more than ready for a more substantial specimen.

- Was the one to actually expose you as being an angel in the first place - unintentionally by mentioning the giant feathers she'd found in your trash.

- Would probably be placated if you gave her more feather tbh. She thinks your wings and feathers are just wonderful.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel charlie x reader #vaggie x reader #hazbin hotel vaggie #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin hotel angel dust #hazbin hotel angel dust x reader #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin hotel husk x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #alastor x reader #pentious x reader #sir pentious headcanons #sir pentious x reader #alastor headcanons #vaggie headcanons #charlie headcanons #husk headcanons #angel dust headcanons #hazbin hotel niffty #niffty x reader #niffty headcanons

[katnisspeetaprim]

Clipped Wings

Lucifer Morningstar/Fallen Angel!Reader.

Based on this post by @helluvapoison who asked me to tag them when it's done! This is my first time ever writing for Hazbin Hotel, so I'm so sorry if it's bad, I just couldn't stop myfelf from writing this!

Warnings: mutilaton menions, kissing, crying, established relationship, angst, fluff.

Word Count: 706 Hazbin M.list

Getting undressed after a long day was the best feeling in the world. You and Lucifer had come down to help with Charlie’s hotel grand re-opening, and you loved Charlie you really did, but the girl could be a lot sometimes, especially when it was something as important and exciting as this.

You sat down on the bed in your underwear and stretched out your sore muscles with a sigh of relief.

You couldn’t help but smile when you felt Lucifer’s hands run across your shoulders as he knelt behind you on the bed.

‘Hey pretty lady.’

‘Hey yourself.’ You grinned back as he began to kiss along your neck, pausing to gently at the base causing you to tremble slightly.

‘Stop.’ You giggled and pulled away. ‘We aren’t having sex in your daughters hotel.’

‘But that’s what hotels are for doll! Sexual debauchery!’ You shot him a playful glare over your shoulder and he threw his hands up in defeat.

‘Fine, I guess I can wait if you insist on being so cruel to little old me.’ You chuckled and smiled softly to each other and you fell into a comfortable silence. You again faced away and allowed him to continue massaging your shoulders.

You were almost falling asleep from the relaxing sensation of Lucifer’s touch, when his fingers began to travel down your back and ghost over the scars that lay in the middle.

He didn’t miss the way you tensed up when he reached that area, but you quickly relaxed yourself, not wanting to make him worry. The area was sensitive. Even though they were healed now, it took a long time from when they were first ripped away from you.

‘You never did tell me how you lost them.’ Lucifer spoke much more softly now, all sense of the playfulness you were used to was now absent.

You stayed silent, eyes now glued to the floor as you stayed frozen in place.

‘You don’t have to say anything.... But I want you to know you can trust me.’ There was an essence of a pleading tone to his voice. Lucifer loved you and he knew that part of your life was painful to think about, but he was desperate to know what happened. If he could ease your pain in any way, then he would do anything.

Lucifer placed another kiss on your neck but not like before. This one was soft, gentle even and most definitely comforting as he patiently waited for you to respond.

‘Adam wanted me to join the exorcists.’ You croaked out after a few moments, swallowing the lump that had formed in your throat.

You couldn’t see his face, but his fingers still on your scars for a split second, before he continued to caress the raised skin.

‘I said no, obviously. But nobody but the exorcists were supposed to know so...’ You trailed off, no longer able to keep the tear at bay as you covered your mouth, trying to stop the sobs.

‘Adam did this to you?’ Lucifer all but growled out behind you. As if he didn’t have enough reasons to hate that narcissistic prick.

You let out a humourless laugh and shook your head.

‘No. The coward got Lute to do his dirty work... You can guess what happened next...’ You cast your eyes down in defeat as tears freely ran down your face.

The life you had down in Hell with Lucifer and your found family was amazing and you wouldn’t change what you had now for the world... But you would be lying if you didn’t sometimes miss everything you had and your friends in Heaven.

Lucifer wasted no time in enveloping his arms round you and pulling you back to cradle against his chest. He placed his head atop yours and just let you cry as you clung to him for dear life.

‘You don’t have to worry about him anymore.’ Lucifer soothed as his grip on you tightened. He was using all his will power to keep his own tears at bay for your sake. He had to be strong for you right now.

‘As long as I’m with you, nobody will hurt you again. That I can promise.’

#hazbin hotel #imagine #one shot #lucifer morningstar #lucifer #angel!reader #charlie #alastor #adam #lute #writing #sfw #fluff #angst #hurt/comfort #luciferxreader #scenario

[k-koriikorner]

A day's never truly over -Snippet

Author's Note: I was inspired by @deadghosy's Dogday reader oneshots. Reader is gender neutral, has Dogday's appearance but no alluding to eye color, hair color, body type or height to help the reader immerse themselves into the story as much as possible. Reader is a Dominion! Angel, who overhears Charlie's conversation with Adam about the hotel. Adam panics about reader telling everyone about the exterminations so they throw you out of heaven. You aren't a fallen angel because you weren't banished to hell but you currently have no way to get back to heaven.

Warnings: Gender Neutral Reader, Angel!Reader, Swearing

Word Count: 1,744

You are a dominion angel, essentially the mediator for the highest ranking angels to carry out the plans to the lower ranks. Your class of angels are considered heavenly governors, attempting to strike a balance between matter and spirit, good and bad. You receive orders from seraphim and cherubim, then dish out duties to the "worker bee" angels of the lower orders. Your main purpose is to make sure that the cosmos remains in order by sending down power to heads of government and other authority figures.

You were eavesdropping on Adam, Lute, and Charlie’s conversations but you were originally in the office to deliver some papers to Adam. You overheard the conversations and were trying to be quiet but you accidentally stumbled into the room during Adam’s song. You face planted into the floor, a small arf escaping you. The music stopped abruptly as Adam stopped playing his instrument, and all eyes turned to you as you slowly got off the floor, papers scattered and brushed yourself off. You locked eyes with Adam, a relatively sad expression on your face.

“Are-are you really supporting genocide? I-i actually think her idea could save people’s lives, why-why does anyone have to get hurt?” Your ears drooped slightly in sadness at the thought of all the lost souls. Adam and Lute look at you like you’ve caught them red handed and before you can speak again Adam begins singing about moving up the extermination to six months, and grabs you and Charlie’s arm before throwing you both out of the office.

“Wait-!” Charlie tries to move back towards the door, at least to ask for a second change but she stumbles and she holds her leg in pain. You stay in your place, where you landed, a horrified expression on your face as you take in everything that just transpired.

You slowly rise to your feet, and take small caution steps towards the door. You raise your right paw, orange fur and paw pads connecting with the door. Charlie looks up at you, partially forgetting you were beside her, but curious as to what you were doing. You summoned a small amount of your angelic power and noticed that a divine seal was placed back on the door so there was no way for you to get back in, not without the castor’s permission.

Your ears flattened again your head, as you held your head down in shame. Your shoulders shake in anger as your wings flair up and your ears pin back. You look down at Charlie with a determined look on your face, "We have to prove them all wrong."

----

As you and Charlie made your way to hell, you had the chance to properly introduce yourself. She talked to you and explained her plans to rehabilitate people through her hotel. Since you were an angel, and a higher ranking one at that, she believed that they'd have a much higher chance of success with you on their side.

“I had no idea they were doing this, regardless of whether or not these people ended up here because of their actions…every soul is valuable and should be cherished.” You frown, your ears drooping for umpteenth time today. “That’s what I tried to explain to Adam, if we could save even a few souls down here…shouldn’t we try?” Charlie turns to you, a sorrowful yet determined expression on face.

“No one in history has even succeeded once they’ve given up, if we can show them that your plan could save even one soul. They’d have no choice but to back you up!” You jump in the air, your wings fluttering slightly. You enjoyed helping people, that was your whole purpose and you wouldn’t make it any different being down here. You fully believed in Charlie’s cause and wanted to see it succeed in helping people more than anything.

“That’s the spirit!..Hey, I-i’m really sorry that you got kicked out of heaven, but I’m really happy you agreed to help me.” The tone between you both becomes somber, as you take the time to really understand your situation. You place a paw on Charlie’s shoulder, a happy smile on your face.

“It may not have been under the…best circumstances, but I’m happy that I have the opportunity to help you in your quest to help more people.” Charlie looks at you with teary eyes and she pats your hand which still rests on her shoulder. You both made it to the hotel, a hopeful smile on your face as you decided to try and stay positive.

The white haired woman gasped at the sight of you. Two pairs of cloud white wings, and the white robe with golden accents, no one could deny that you were unmistakably an angel. "Charlie...they listened, I'm so proud of you!" The woman pulled Charlie into a hug, not paying attention to the nervous expression on her face.

"Yeah, um this is [Name], they're a Dominion Angel who's agreed to help with our cause!" Charlie turned to face you, a wonky smile on her face. While it wasn't an absolute lie, you were glad she hadn't flat out said that you were unofficially kicked out of heaven. "It's nice you meet you, my name's Vaggie. Oh come here, we have something exciting to show you!" Vaggie greets you briefly before pulling Charlie further into the building, with you in tow.

The group of people sitting in front of the television turns to look at you all entering the living room, and you couldn't pretend to not see the baffled expressions on some of their faces."Holy shit, she really did it!" Angel Dust comments, not fully believing that an Angel was standing before him, and a non-exorcist one at that.

"Well would you look at that," Husk comments, a barely noticeable smirk on his face. Charlie and Vaggie stood beside you as you greeted everyone, "It's so nice to meet you, I hope I can work hard and help you all make it to heaven!" Charlie smiles at you in appreciation before she and Vaggie pull you towards the couch to watch their commercial. "Alastor pulled some strings and it's about to air."

"I pulled a few limbs too, hahaha!" Alastor interjects, a proud smile on his usual smiling face. Charlie looks at Vaggie, a surprised look on her face. "Wait, the commercial? You all made a new one?" You both look down at Angel Dust, who's sitting on the floor beside your legs, a confident expression on his face as he boasts."Yeah, one of my better performances if I do say so myself." Charlie beams brightly as she's nearly brought to tears by the knowledge that everyone had put in the work to make a new and improved version of their ad.

"That's... that's amazing." Angel raises an arm towards her face, prompting silencing her, albeit slightly rude in your opinion. "Sshh, it's starting." You turn your attention to the television in front of you all, as you see everyone in nicer clothes and standing at the entrance of the hotel.

"Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel-" Vaggie on the television is abruptly cut off as the tv turns to the news. Everyone in the room except to Alastor and Nifty groan and complain, Vaggie and Angel in their respective languages. A frown pulls at your face, and your ears droop at the sight of the channel being changed before the commercial even started.

A spider demon with a blond bob cut, and another demon with a face mask on, seemingly news anchors show up on the screen. The names 'Katie Killjoy' and 'Tom Trench' under the respective persons as the woman begins to speak. "Breaking news in Hell today! We have just received word from the Heaven Embassy that the next Extermination is happening sooner than ever before. Do you know what that means,Tom?" Although the woman is smiling, you can sense the sarcasm in her voice and the seething rage in this woman's soul.

You frown lightly, hoping that she's one of the people you can help be redeemed. "No, what does that mean, Katie?" He asks, shaking his head mockingly. Katie places her hands onto the desk and leans closer to the camera, her left eye twitching in irritation. "It means we're all royally fucked!" The sounds of screams fill the rooms from the tv, making you shrink into the sofa, as the countdown goes from 358 to 176. Angel seems to be the only one able to speak as everyone else is either stunned into silence or unbothered, "Wait, what? Why?!" Angel scoffs and raises his hand in the air, clearly exasperated.

[Cuts to Adam and Lute]

“And what do we do about the [Name] situation?” Lute turns towards her boss, after their discussion about the dead exorcist. Although she was somewhat disapproving about sending you down to Hell, she knew that they couldn’t risk you telling anyone else about the Exterminations. Plus she knew it was either that or killing you, and you both had a relatively cordial relationship.

“Who the hell is that?” Adam asks, promptly not paying attention to the conversation anymore, too busy scrolling on his phone.

“[Name] sir, the Dominion Angel who came in on the meeting earlier? Who we threw down to hell to prevent the secret getting out.” Lute keeps a level voice, sometimes she just couldn’t with her boss. Adam’s face flashes in realization as she remembers tanking your arm and throwing you out the office with Charmander or whoever that girl was.

“Ohh that bitch…tell anyone who asks that she’s gone on a spiritual retreat to Neptune, it’s what that little asshole gets for eavesdropping. Oh, and get Josiah to replace her, he may be a cuck bitch but he’s the closest we’ll get to [Name]’s standards.”

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin angel dust #hazbin charlie #hazbin vaggie #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel lute #alastor x reader #husk x reader #charlie x reader #vaggie x reader #angel dust x reader #adam x reader

[sxfterhearts]

neighbourly visits

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ idol!jiung x non-idol!reader ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

♡ genre/warnings: fluff inspired by recent events, childhood-neighbours!au

♡ word count: 2,422 words

♡ author’s note: ah choi jiung i wish you only good things. >_< i hope you get better soon and no longer feel any pain... i'm sure it was hard for you to stop activities, but i hope you take the time to rest and relax!!! i have not known you for long, but i want to know you for a long time ♡ also pics cred to the lovely tumblr owners!!!

//

“Hey stranger,” You called out from behind the sliding door that was left ajar, your head peeking through the gap to peer inside the hospital room.

“Hey yourself.” Jiung replied with a light chuckle.

You walked in. Walls covered in flowery 90’s wallpaper greeted you warmly, along with a mounted television playing news silently in the background, a small sofa and coffee table set in the corner and a large window with views of skyscrapers dotted along the side of the Han River. And of course, a single hospital bed with your ex-neighbour-turned-idol lying right on top of it.

“It’s a nice room.” You commented, curious eyes scanning your surroundings.

He scoffed. “Yeah, except now there’s a stain at the bottom of the walls from yesterday.” Jiung admitted sheepishly, hands coming up to rub the back of his neck in slight embarrassment.

“Ah…” You trailed off, setting down the two plastic bags you brought with you on his overbed table. “From when you flooded the bathroom?” You questioned, gentle and careful, nose scrunching up adorably.

“Don’t remind me…” He looked away. “I was so embarrassed! Oh my goodness… The head nurse laughed right in my face! I mean, it sounds like she thought it was funny, but I felt so bad.”

“I’m sure it’s fine, plus, who doesn’t like Krispy Kreme donuts?” “I hope so…”

“Anyways, I brought the goods, like you asked.” Your eyebrows cocked towards the bags, while you dragged a fold-up chair closer to his bedside.

Jiung’s eyes lit up at the mention of this. “You did?”

“Of course, who do you think I am?” You laughed, fingers moving to unpack the food. “Half and half wings, gold king and bburinkle flavoured, one pack of bburinkle cheese balls, and a large tteokbokki.” As you announced the order, you brought out the takeaway boxes one by one – soy sauce, sweet honey and garlic flavoured, then cheese powder flavoured wings; the mozzarella cheese balls that you both enjoyed and the large container filled with spicy rice cakes. “Oh, and Cass beer!”

“Y/N…” Jiung uttered, his mouth quickly salivating at the mention of his favourite meal: chicken and beer. “Are you an angel?”

You laughed out loud, cheeks turning a light shade of pink. You turned around, heading to the adjoined bathroom, hoping to hide your flustered expression. Too late, though, Jiung thought that shade of pink looked the cutest on you. “I think you’re just hallucinating from all the drugs they’ve put you under.” You replied. 

“I have been dreaming about this meal since I got admitted last week. You’re really saving my life, neighbour.” Jiung breathed out, still amazed at the generous spread of food. 

As you walked out, you saw Jiung swinging his legs to the edge of the bed. “Woah, hold on soldier, where do you think you’re going?”

He stopped, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights. “To wash my hands.”

“No need for that. Sit down and rest – doctor’s orders, remember?” You reached into your handbag and pulled out a hand sanitiser, passing it over to him. “Use this instead. Plus, it’s BHC. They’re professionals. There’s gloves.”

At that, Jiung rolled his eyes at you. “I’m fine,” He drawled out, yet accepting your offer and sanitising his hands. “It’s not like I’m severely injured or anything.”

You gave him a pointed look, fully sceptical. “Right.” 

“I’m serious!”

“A ruptured thigh muscle, Jiung. You ruptured your thigh muscle.” You deadpanned, your motherly instincts firing up. “That’s a big deal! Just sit down and eat your chicken, okay?”

“Fine…” He grumbled, pouting as he pulled on his gloves. 

“So, how are you feeling about it?”

“About the leg? It’s fine. Honestly, it doesn’t even hurt that much.” Jiung paused to take a bite of the cheese ball, eyes closing in pure bliss as he did so. “So good. This always hits.”

“Okay, but that’s not what I meant.”

“What do you mean?”

You sighed, reaching for a can of beer and opening it for him. “You know what I mean…”

He accepted it, taking a big gulp as he thought through his response. “It’s… fine.” Jiung looked down, suddenly taking a lot of interest in the box of fried chicken in front of him.

“Are you really okay? You were preparing for such a long time. Your mum even told me that you were practising non-stop, even on Seollal, and most of Christmas through to New Years. She said she could only send you banchan this year and was really sad about not seeing you back home.”

“Hey,” He looked up. “Are you here to visit your sick neighbour or to guilt trip him for not visiting his family?” Jiung said before biting into a bburinkle flavoured wing.

“Firstly, ex-neighbour. You moved out years and years ago. Secondly, I’m not trying to guilt trip you. I’m just trying to make sure you’re okay.”

“Well, why do you care if you’re just my ex-neighbour?” Jiung countered in a quiet voice.

“That’s not what I - ” You stopped, sighing. “Okay, we both know you’re not just my ex-neighbour.”

“What am I then?” He looked you straight  in the eye.

The two of you engaged in a tense staring contest before the eye contact and the intensity behind his lids freaked you out. “My… My friend, okay? Geez, that’s not the point. Stop deflecting, Choi Jiung. I’ve known you for over a decade and you’re still the same. Always trying to avoid talking about your feelings.” You huffed, passing a pair of chopsticks to him and sliding over the container of tteokbokki. 

Jiung nodded his thanks, accepting the cutlery and digging in.

Silence ensued as the words hung over the pair of you. You ate quietly while Jiung slurped up his rice cakes like a starved man. He set down his chopsticks once he took a big bite, sighing. “Okay, fine. You got me. I’m not okay.”

“See! Jiung, you have to talk about your feelings.” You stopped, hands coming up to make vague gestures in the air to emphasise your point. “It’s important! You can’t just keep everything inside. Like,” You picked up a can of unopened beer. “Like this. If you keep it bottled inside and shake it too much, it’ll explode completely and make a mess. Please, just talk to me about it. How are you feeling, Choi Jiung?”

He grimaced internally at the use of his full name, the name his mother would use whenever she got mad at him. “Yeah, I’m not okay. I’m so not okay, Y/N.” He sighed again. At this point, you grew slightly concerned that he would then hurt his nostrils from heavy sighing. You shook the silly thought away to focus. “I’m not okay, because, you know what, yeah. You’re right. We have been practising for so long, and so hard. And I was so excited, and had so many sleepless nights trying to figure out how to do my solo, and what lyrics would go well for the song, and how to set up the stages, and what outfits would go together, and, and…” He took a deep breath to calm himself. Jiung could feel his eyes heat up and the corner of his lids prickling, tears beginning to gather slowly but surely. “And for all that to be taken away from me, it just feels so, so unfair.” His voice sounded so small and vulnerable, your heart cracked a little bit for him. A stray tear escaped, rolling down his cheeks.

Immediately, you use the ends of your sleeves to dab away at his tears. Nodding, you encouraged him to go on.

“And… And I really wanted to visit Japan. Shota was gonna bring us to all these places, we were gonna have dinner with his family, and I was really looking forward to being back in America. I really wanted to walk around LA again, and see the huge trees, and…” Jiung paused again, trying to compose himself. “And I’m just really sad I can’t see the fans. I feel so bad, like I let them down, and I know that for some of them this is a once-in-a-lifetime thing to see us and I let them down and - ”

You didn’t allow him to continue - you simply stood up from your seat and sat next to him on the bed, enveloping him in a hug. “And that’s enough, I’m not gonna let you continue talking down to yourself like that.” You said in a hushed voice. You weren’t too sure why you were whispering, but it felt like the right thing to do.

Jiung shut up promptly, closing his wet eyes, and burying his face in your sweater. He breathed in your scent, a mixture of your fabric softener and jasmine, and felt at ease. He was transported back to simpler times - growing up in a high-rise apartment in the outskirts of Seoul, catching cicadas by the stream next to your house, and running around the parks until the sun went down.

You stayed like this for awhile, and it was like time stopped for you. You could barely breathe from how close you were to Jiung, someone you had admired for a long time now - initially from up close, close enough to count the eyelashes on his pretty face. And now from afar, through a screen. Initially, you wrapped him in a hug to stop him from talking about how he let his fans down, but now, you were just enjoying his warmth. Jiung hugged you back tighter, and you could feel the ends of his orange hair tickling your neck.

It was Jiung who broke the silence. “You feel the same - smell the same, even.” He mumbled, lips too close to your skin for you to maintain a healthy heartbeat.

“Yeah, well…” You hated yourself for pulling away, but you had to do it to check up on him; make sure he was okay.  “Moving out to the big city made me crave familiarity. So I had to ask Mum to send me a picture of the softener she used for our clothes when we were growing up.”

Jiung smiled at that. “That’s nice.”  He liked the idea of you calling your mum about something as simple as laundry. Often, he felt like his calls back home were the opposite of mundane - his mother would ask him where he was flying to that weekend; he would reply with the destination and tell her that he was working on a few new songs. She would tell him to eat well and not sleep too late; he would reply in the affirmative, hiding the fact that most of the time they were recording in the wee hours of the morning. It seemed like you were worlds apart. Yet, he couldn’t help but feel more than grateful to have a friend like you in his life to keep him grounded. Someone from his previous life, as a child, before he was P1Harmony’s Jiung - when he was just himself, just plain old Choi Jiung. A boy from Anyang. A boy with big dreams. Just a regular boy.

“Also, I’m sure your fans understand. And they’d want you to rest! Trust me,” You paused, “Everyone on SNS has been commenting to wish you a speedy recovery but also saying that this is a great opportunity for you to get some well-deserved rest. You guys never seem to rest these days. A comeback and a tour? You must’ve been so busy..”

Jiung laughed, amused. “You read the fan comments?”

“What? Of course! Why are you surprised?”

“Wow…” Jiung replied. “You know, we kinda lost contact when we were in high school but when you reached out again a few years ago I really did think it was because you suddenly missed me. Now I know why…”

“What do you mean?”

“Did you reach out because you were a fan? I always believed your story - I thought it really was because you bumped into my mum back in Anyang and she passed you my new number.”

“I mean…” You fumbled. Now it was your turn to be embarrassed. “That happened! I swear!”

“But…?”

“No buts! That is definitely what happened.”

“Right… So who’s your P1Harmony bias? Tell me.” Jiung teased, lips curling into a cheeky grin. He passed you the beer, urging you to drink. “Drink up and tell me. Don’t worry, I can set you up with them. Just tell me.”

You took a huge gulp as you whacked him on the arm.

“Hey! That hurt!”

“You deserved it.” You mumbled.

“So, who is it?” Jiung still wouldn’t let it go. 

“You don’t need to know.” The tips of your ears were warming up now. You distracted yourself by munching on some wings, hoping he would just drop the topic already.

“C’mon, I deserve to know, at least.”

Just then, your phone, which was on top of the table, lit up with a Kakao notification. Your eyes widened in alarm, suddenly remembering that you had just recently changed your wallpaper to a (very cute) photo of Jiung from their most recent music video. With your clean hand, you reached over to grab it before Jiung could see it.

But alas, you were too slow. “Oh…” Jiung mused, getting all cocky. “I get it now.”

“What do you get? There’s nothing to get.” You forced out a laugh, flipping your phone the other way and burying it under your seat.

“Y/N…” Jiung drawled out the syllabus of your name in a teasing yet slightly dangerous way, as if he had an evil master plan. “Tell me something, and be honest.”

“Nope, I refuse.” You said, shaking your head vigorously.

“Do you like me?”

You continued shaking your head no and chewing in silence.

“Be honest, I’m not gonna judge you. Am I your bias?”

“Shut up, I refuse to answer.”

“Ah, so I am right.”

“That’s not what I said!”

“You didn’t have to say it, Y/N. I can tell… Just admit it. You like me.”

“No! This is so embarrassing…”

//

{ epilogue }

The nurses filling out their charts at the station giggled and gossiped over their dinners. 

“So, what do you think is gonna happen?”

“Gosh, watching them is so frustrating. Like, just confess already!”

“I know right! I almost want to do something about it. Like slip them a note or push them into each other or something.”

“Ah, the beauty of young love…”

#jiung #choi jiung #p1h jiung #p1harmony x reader #p1harmony fanfic #p1harmony imagines #jiung x reader #jiung fanfic #jiung imagines #jiung fluff #p1harmony fluff #piwon x reader #piwon fluff #piwon imagines #piwon fanfic #piwon jiung #p1h choi jiung #p1harmony jiung #jiung x reader fluff #kpop fanfic #kpop fluff #kpop imagines

[nottapossum]

Two of my brain cells rubbed together, and now I have this idea in my head. How would any caregiver you write for act around their sick or not feeling well little be like

Awww I love this one lol

(Feeling like I've been abandoning Ozzie lately. I love him so much lol)

Ozzie! 💙🐔:

When Fizz is sick, Ozzie will cancel whatever he has going on, no matter what it is to be there for him.

Meeting with another sin?

Canceled.

Has an important guest at Ozzie's?

Who cares! Canceled!

Lucifer is at war with heaven and wants his help?

Decline phone call.

He will drop all of it for Fizz!

He'll spend the day coddling Fizz, making sure he has plenty of food and water, and has everything he needs.

Ozzie worries about Fizz constantly and will stay up all night to be sure he's okay.

Even if it's just a simple cold or a headache.

He'd never leave Fizz to handle it on his own. Little or not.

Lute:

When a little in Lutes' care is sick, she will do everything by the book.

Make sure to check their temperature every couple of hours,

Make sure they're drinking water,

Eating food,

Take their medicine.

And they are to stay in bed until the sickness is gone. She doesn't care if they feel better or not!

Adam:

Adam doesn't know how to deal with sick kiddos... so he'll get one of his angels to take care of it. Probably lute, if lute is sick, he'll ask another excersist.

He doesn't do germs.

Carmilla: Carmilla has a special soup she will make for the girls if they're sick. She'll advise they stay in bed and constantly check in on them as a mother does. She'll shower them with love and comfort until they feel better 💕

Zestial: He has such a soft heart. He will feel so bad for the sick little one that he'll give them anything they want. He'll keep a very close eye on them and sing softly to them to help them feel a bit better.

Husk:

Little Angel will cling to Husk when he's feeling icky.

Whether he's sick, hurt, or hungover from when he was big.

He'll cling onto the winged cat for comfort, asking him to make the discomfort stop.

Husk is understanding of Angel, and though he can't make the pain go away, he will do everything he can to help.

He'll lay in bed with Angel to make sure he gets some sleep.

When he has to get up, he'll wear a baby carrior so he can keep Angel close to him at all times. (Angel is taller than him, so it took a while to figure it out, but they got the hang of it.)

Angel will cry if Husk leaves for even a moment. His codependency of Husk gets a lot worse when he's sick.

Husk will suggest Angel wear diapers while sick because of his very little control of his bodily functions even when he's not sick. Usually, Angel will agree, but sometimes he'll refuse and have a few accidents. Husk doesn't mind, though. He just wants what's best for Angel. He doesn't mind cleaning him up so long as Angel is comfortable.

He'll soothe the little spider with soft humming and back rubs as he rocks him gently and holds him tight.

By the next day, Husk will be so burnt out that he'll take the day to sleep in and recover.

Angel will always try to make it up by giving him breakfast in bed and thanking him for all he did. 💖 He knows it's not easy to take care of him all the time and wants to share his appreciation for all his friends' support.

Charlie:

Charlie will drop everything to care for her little one!

She'll make them a little care basket and buy them something (like a toy) to try and cheer them up! She'll provide everything they need and help set them up comfortably with their favorite cartoons! With Vaggy specifically, she really has to be careful not to upset her when she leaves to make her soup.

The little one hates being away from her mama.

Vaggy:

Charlie will always insist she's not sick, even when she definitely is.

Vaggy will have to be strict with her, but she needs to be careful not to hurt Charlie's feelings.

She'll tell Charlie to get to bed as she makes her some soup, tea, and gets her a sippy cup of water.

Charlie will cry and fuss because she hates being sick, but Vaggy is equipped to handle anything Charlie has to throw at her.

She fights Charlie's sass with comforting reassurance that it's okay to be sick sometimes and it isn't Charlie's fault.

She promises that everything will be okay and she'll express how much she loves to take care of her.

Then, once Charlie feels a bit better, she'll put on a movie and pet her head until she falls asleep. ❤️

Bee:

Bee will provide anything the little needs or wants, she'll stop at nothing to be sure her little one is as spoiled as they need!

She'll buy them a bunch of new stuff,

Offer them all the comfort in the world!

Anything to make them smile!

Tex: Then Tex will encourage bee to calm down and just let the little one rest.

Then they'll work together ❤️

They'll sing to their little,

Work together to help their little one take medicine,

And they'll read to their little one and pet their head affectionatly to help them sleep. 💕💖

Stolas: Blitzø is good at pretending he isn't sick. He always pushes it down and fights through it until it's so bad that he just can't deal with it anymore!

Stolas will either figure out that Blitzø is sick through Loona or Blitzø will just tell him.

The bird will take him to the palace and force him to stay in bed and rest as he pampers and fusses over him. (Blitzø has told him that he's allowed to do so because he won't stay in bed and get better otherwise. He knows himself too well.)

He'll make Blitzø take medicine, drink tea, and eat soup.

He'll take care of Blitzø, whether he is little or not. But Blitzø always ends up regressing because he feels awful and wants to be comforted.

After he has regressed, he'll refuse to leave Stolas’s side, asking for cuddles.

Stolas will oblige and give Blitzø all the comfort and love he can. He'll also sing to the little one and read to him to help pass the time.

Loona:

Loona is still struggling to find her caregiver headspace. But she knows that when little ones are sick, she needs to comfort them and make sure they're resting and drinking water.

She'll be very worried about her little one, but more worried that she'll do something stupid and make the experience worse!

She'll be very careful and do the best she can, do what's expected of a caregiver in this scenario.

By the end, she'll feel as if she did everything wrong because she bought rice soup instead of noodles soup, or forgot about the hot water for the tea!

But her little one will hug her and thank her for taking care of them 💗

Which will put a smile on her face as years of joy form in her eyes.

Millie: Millie will hold Moxxie and baby him the whole time, and Moxxie won't mind a bit!

Millie is very protective of Moxxie, so even if Moxxie is asleep, she's watching him to be sure he's okay.

She makes sure his water bottle is always full. She's constantly filling it and encouraging him to drink more.

She has a special soup recipe her mama passed down to her, and it's sure to make the little one feel better.

She'll spoon feed him, then cuddle up next to him to comfort him until he feels better.

Then, of course, she gets sick, so Moxxie gets to return the favor and take care of her next.

Lmk if you want part 2 with The Vees, Lucifer, Emily, Peter, Sera, Rosie, Alastor, Striker, and Stella...

Wow, there's a lot of characters lol 😆

@todayimfour

@trophyxtissues2

@ask-dusty-boy

#ittybittysinners #ittybittysinnersq&h #hazbin hotel agere #hazbin hotel age regression #itty bitty imps #helluva boss age regression #helluva boss agere #ittybittyimpsq&h #ittybittyimps #age regression fanfic

[mollymauk-teafleak]

Huskerdust babies?? Please say more

GLADLY oh my god there was no way I was going to be able to restrain myself until I made time to write a fic. and right off the bat, so much credit goes to @minky-for-short who came up with this with me

Okay, I'm going to bullet point it for structure. And first off, whether you want this to be a trans Angel Dust or demon magic making it possible or Angel being a porn demon giving him different genitals, go crazy, I don't mind any interpretation

So the fact that this happens is a result of their gradual redemption. Demons aren't supposed to be able to reproduce but as Angel and Dusk slowly improve themselves, they start changing in ways they don't notice and the curse they have in Hell starts to weaken

Charlie is actually the first person to find out, she clocks that Angel is feeling sick which is pretty unusual because he's actually been cutting way back on his general debauchery, having a much healthier coping mechanism over behind the bar. He insists he's fine because he's used to powering through pain and discomfort with a smile on his face. But she won't have it, she's going to get him checked out

Healthcare is very hard to come by in Hell but Charlie can get him access to the facilities in the Sloth ring. But the doctors there are just as stumped, no one can figure out whats wrong with him, it's not a bad batch of drugs, its not a hangover, he's just throwing up and miserable and exhausted

They're back at the hotel and it's Charlie who notices the barest of little sentient sparks when Angel Dust moves but it's not coming from him, it's coming from inside him. And she's the one who realises. And Angel Dust is convinced she's spouting idealistic bullshit but he can't deny it

It's a while before he can bring himself to tell Husk, he's terrified that it means he'll just want to call things off with him, that he's clearly not a winning hand. But eventually they're sat together and Husk mentions casually that whenever he's ready to tell him whats bothering him, he'll listen. Like, he's realised he's scared but he still gave him the space to deal with it and thats what makes Angel Dust brave enough to say it out loud. And after a moment of quiet, Husk just shrugs and says well lets hope he makes a better daddy than he did an overlord, huh?

They have twins in the end, a boy and a girl. Both dads got to name one twin each so Husk calls their son Howard, Howie for short, after a famous magician and Angel Dust calls his daughter Belladonna, Bella for short, because he wanted to give her a name that made her sound strong and able to defend herself

The twins are utterly adorable, no one can deny it. They have the multiple arms from their pops and little heart shaped pink patches on black fur from their daddy, each with a set of wings like his too. They act a lot like kittens, rolling around and hissing and pouncing on whatever moves in the hotel

They're also unashamed trouble makers, they really only listen to their daddy and their pops, everyone else has to bribe them. Fortunately they're cute enough to get away with everything and anything.

The twins also have a super close bond with their Auntie Charlie. I can go into more detail about this in another post but she ends up with the contract for their souls to protect them from both Heaven and Valentino (Alastor has no interest in the babies, beyond not really minding as much as he should when they climb up him, knock his hat off and call him Uncle Al)

But yes I have many many ideas about these two being dads and their little demons and all of that so feel free to bug me about them!

#huskerdust #hazbin hotel #hazbin husk #hazbin angel dust #headcanons

[bonefall]

Do you have a top 5 dotc characters line-up? Just ones you like in general

"Top 5" is really more of a... "guys I hate the least" lineup. Characters whose treatment made me so angry it's become spite-love. It's bad in here. It's REALLY bad in here.

In no particular order, the characters I like in DOTC are,

Bumble Not JUST because of how dirty she was done, either. Bumble's amazing. She's confident, she's outgoing, she's funny! She's there for Turtle Tail when Gray Wing is treating her like shit, and friendly to every cat she meets, even when they're being dicks to her. She ALWAYS does the right thing in the end and has the best interests of her friends at heart. She's a GOOD PERSON! The ONE time she was ever ANGRY at anyone was when Turtle Tail just let her get dragged back to their wifebeater. She's only part of TWO books but she's the BEST character in the entire arc, hands down, above and beyond the rest of the cast. JUSTICE for Bumble!

Bright Stream She got fridged, killed in a shocking, gruesome way, with uncomfortable detail put on how the pregnant woman probably died slowly and was eaten alive, ripped to shreds by eagles... for Clear Sky's man pain. Clear Sky literally fucking broods in a moonbeam. All because Gray Wing tripped like an idiot in a horror movie. And it was a WASTE. Bright Stream IS INTERESTING ALL ON HER OWN. Gray Wing was downplaying Clear Sky emotionally pressuring her into leaving, dismissing him going "I HOPE YOUR HUNTING SUCKS SO YOU REALIZE YOU SHOULD FOLLOW ME" with a 'good humored flick of his tail,' thirsting over how attractive Bright Stream is and how lucky Clear Sky is to have her as a mate while Bright Stream is obviously feeling upset about how her shitty husband has been talking to her. And it's actually insulting how the writers never acknowledged this-- that Clear Sky has ALWAYS been manipulative. From BOOK ONE. And then she has these absolutely bizarre Angel Fetus Children that Gray Wing coos about on his death bed, because god for-fucking-bid a single scene go by that doesn't become Clear Sky-centric.

Snake This arc tries SO bad to make this fucking guy a villain. SO hard. They describe his stinky breath and his bad teeth and how icky and gross he is, and they make him kill Frost during Clear Sky's Murder Party as if I'm supposed to blame HIM instead of the ESTABLISHED MURDERER WHO ORDERED HIS MEN TO KILL EVERYONE. Then, they choose HIM to stand up against Clear Sky after he let a murderous evil tyrant into his group against all warnings. And they treat that like it's a bad thing. Like SNAKE is the one who's awful for TELLING CLEAR SKY TO SHOVE HIS HALFHEARTED APOLOGY UP HIS UGLY ASS They even make him follow One Eye's evil lackey in the next book, like they're trying to slander him in hindsight. "Oh nonono, ackshually, Snake wasn't principled at all. He wasn't making a point about how Clear Sky let One Eye into his group and that he's sick of following tyrants. DONT WORRY. THE ONLY PEOPLE WHO DON'T LIKE CLEAR SKY ARE EVIL :)" FUCK you. I'm going to stan Snake OUT OF SPITE.

Tall Shadow While I still can't stand what they did with her and Bumble... she's an interesting character and done SO DIRTY because the writers don't fucking respect women at all They chose to have her go through a "self-confidence arc" because everyone nonsensically HATES her and just wants Gray Wing to lead, where she has to choose taking care of her burn-victim brother over leading because her "emotions" are getting in the way, only to clear up once her family is fucking dead because the books KEEP INSISTING that women in particular can't be leaders if they have an important emotional connection. And THEN they have Shaded-fucking-Moss, her predecessor, descend from heaven after Clear Sky's Murder Party to tut-tut at her for killing someone after she was THROWN INTO A CROWD OF PEOPLE TRYING TO MURDER HER, because I'm DEAD serious, god forbid women do anything. Clear Sky's got a direct body count of 3 at this point, PLUS the indirect body count of a dozen people killed on his orders, but ACTUALLY Tall Shadow is the one who deserves the fucking scolding. INSANE. And YET. She remains a practical person. She's diplomatic when she can be, and harsh when she cannot. Against all common sense, she LISTENS to Gray Wing's AWFUL advice to do Just One More peaceful meeting where maybe THIS time sucking Clear Sky's toes will work, because she is fair. I cannot help but love her.

Milkweed I haven't gotten to her in my read-along yet but she's done so dirty, too. It makes me sick. She's revealed to be a friend of Misty and distrusts the Mountain Cats for, you know... stealing all the native cats' land and murdering her friend? But don't worry, Gray Wing's here to do Clear Sky Apologetics and convince her to go join his group. While there she gets verbally accosted by Leaf, a recurring background asshole, who says she's useless, her stupid babies are stealing his food, and that when she gets sick she's just keeping the whole camp awake with her coughing. So anyway, because the Erins LOVE domestic abuse, they get shipped together lmaoo. Normal book series.

Bumble, Bright Stream, Snake, Tall Shadow, Milkweed. I also have feelings about Wind Runner though, and what they did with her. But GOD, explaining my complicated thoughts on Wind Runner would take a long time. She is both a favorite and also a symbol of several huge problems in WC.

#Dotc hate #warrior cats analysis #bone babble

[rowiewritesstuff]

Huskerdust please 😊? They are so soft and loving together, feels safe. I love seeing Angel happy.

Husker X Angel Dust

Slight Spoilers <3

The two of these demons forged a bond from their chains. They both owed a good deal to powerful demons, and could understand one another’s pain. Often, they’d be spending time in Husker’s bar. They could be seen chatting and laughing almost all the time- the two seemed inseparable. 

“And then I said, up yours bud!” Angel Dust finished his story with a laugh. Husker chuckled.

“You really are going to get in trouble one of these days.” 

“I’m not worried, I have you.” Angel flirted.

Alastor appeared suddenly, and pulled Husker away. When Husker returned, he looked furious. He went back to his bar to clean his bar cups, trying to get his mind off of it. Angel Dust looked at him in concern, sitting in front of him.

“You uh…Are you okay?” 

“Fine.” Husker spoke coldly in an even tone.

“..Look, you don’t seem like it. What happene-”

“None of your damn business Angel!” Husker snapped. A glass broke in his hand, and Angel flinched back. For a moment, he saw Valentino instead of his usually loving boyfriend. Angel looked at Husker’s fluffed up wings and rage and couldn’t see Husker anymore.

“Sorry… I’ll see you later.” Angel left the room quickly. Husker laid his head down on his bar, muttering a curse when he realized he fucked up. 

Husker gave himself time to cool off before going to Angel Dust’s room. He was cuddling his pig Fat Nuggets as he cried lightly. Husker sat next to Angel but couldn’t meet his eyes.

“I’m…I’m sorry, Angel. I didn’t mean…I didn’t want you to…fuck…” His voice slowly got quieter as he put his head in his hands. He heard a sigh behind him as Angel leaned his head on his shoulder. 

“It’s okay. I know you didn’t mean to…but you gotta remember babes, I don’t like getting treated like that. I get enough of that at work.”

“That damn bastard makes me do things I hate.” Husker admitted. “I wish I could just wring his damn neck!” 

“We can’t change nothin…so ya just gotta remember.” Angel kissed his cheek.

“What? What are you talking about?” 

“So things look bad, and your back’s against the wall…” Angel sang to Husker. Husker couldn’t help the small smile as he remembered what he sang to Angel the day they had their first fight. 

“Your whole existence feels fuckin’ hopeless, and your whole existence feels like a divebar bathroom stall….” They sang softly as they held each other. This was their song, and it would always remind them of who they were and what they mean to each other.

#husker #angel dust #angeldust #angel #hazbin hotel #husker x angel #husker x angel dust #husker x angeldust #alastor #valentino mentioned #Huskerdust #ship #characterxcharacter #hazbin hotel ship #hazbin hotel oneshot #slight angst #angst #happy ending #tw implied abuse #yandere-fics-n-stuff #yfns #sweet #hh

[alicerosejensen]

Just angst written for a sad composition. I'm too depressed to write something funny😔

I've been crying a lot lately, so I pour out my pain in text.

warning: angst; reader's death; Leon suffers again; No happy ending; fem/reader

I am a delicate gentle nature. Physically weak, so the reader is anyone but not a DSO agent. It does not say the cause of death, so everyone invents for himself.

English is not my native language, but if you liked the test, let me know that everything is not so bad with my translation. It looks different in the original, but I spend too much time looking for the right words in English.

You were always beautiful. But now, to the disgusting gnashing in his chest, twisting the most cruel pain out of his lungs, Leon did not want to see your dead beauty. This bomb in Washington where his entire squad was killed, and then... you. All his precious love, which he so cherished and protected, lies before him. His cumin, sandalwood, spring rose that withered too quickly. An angel who decided to return to heaven...

All white and silk. The long sleeves of the dress would completely cover your velvet arms, if they were not placed on your stomach, and you are all surrounded by fragrant flowers - roses and lilies. Hair, combed and loose, neatly laid on the pillow, perfectly complements the look. Soon you will be sleeping in the dry earth, and not walking around his apartment in lace. You won't wake up in his bed anymore and Leon won't pull you in for a teasing kiss.

What is left for him now? Remember your facial features until strong alcohol erases them from his memory? And it's almost obscene to die so young...

"My sweet girl... you too cruel to me"

If you knew how much pain your leaving brings him, you would have stayed with him longer. Dear angel given to the desecration of a cruel fate. Leon touches a cold palm, but it seems warm to him, his eyes are attentively following your face, hoping to catch a spark of emotion in this lifeless powdered marble, but you continue to sleep soundly. There is no pulse. trembling fingers wrap around your thin wrist, searching for the gold chain of your bracelet, making Leon's heart creak uncomfortably.

Your light was his strength. As if a long presence in his life helped the gentle sprouts of trust and a calm life to break through the stones of lived horrors.

Leon is still holding on to your hand like a drowning man holding onto a lifeline, but what's the point of holding on to someone who will never return? In fact, he is so tired ... flecks of tears shine in the corners of his eyes, but no one notices them. A new wave of despair covers him, pulling him into the deep sea to the very depths, from where it is already impossible to get out. Being non-religious, Leon now remembers all those angels that his mother once told him about as a child. A barely living echo of childhood slips through the mind, echoing back to real life. It seems that you really were one of those whom he so wanted to see when you were a boy, and now you are just a sleeping beauty who will not be awakened by any kiss from a handsome prince.

But the worst thing is not your dead body in front of him, but these dreams that will torment him at night not letting him forget about you, constantly returning on black wings and slowly pecking at the soul like vultures.

"Come on, princess, have pity on me..."

But you don't get up. If he had the strength, he would have pulled you out of that wooden box, but what's the point? Leon is tired of scrubbing the shit out of himself, but something inside is always breaking. Constantly he loses those he values most in the world, as if everything he touches turns to ashes. He want to get back in the car, open the glove compartment and come back to you only to put a bullet in temple and fall on your chest. Something inside Leon dies again with such new strength that his own body can not stand it. Leon doesn't cry, though a scream of hatred constricts his throat. Why are you lying here and not in your common house?! Why are you silent instead of laughing?! Why, despite all the vows given to him … left him. All emotions are completely destroyed, only you are in front of him like a nameless statue of a talented sculptor. He found refuge in your heart, listened to his beating at night, and now there is only a faint smell of your things that will soon completely disappear and everything that now reminds you of you will also leave him. Leon strokes your hair - it is no longer so silky and shiny and kisses each finger, clasping your thin palm with both hands.

For a second it seemed to him that your eyelashes trembled. Just one moment before someone puts a hand on his shoulder, causing him to grit his teeth. He had your unfinished books at home, a list of films that you planned to watch together, but instead he preferred to get drunk in a bar and feel sorry for himself. Now he will have enough time for this activity.

Leon feels like a nobody. A walking shadow with a heart pierced through and through, from where blood flows in an inexhaustible stream. He lied to you chewing the words "I love you" soaking them with caustic poison and lost meaning. Because if he loved you… he would never let that happen. Idiot … he would now be lying next to you, inhaling your scent and kissing every inch of skin, every mole, every small scar.

Your death killed two, but they mourn you, they sing a serene dirge, seeing you off, as it were, from this dirty and ugly world to another. Cleaner and brighter where you are and a place where you do not need to worry about the safety of life.

This suit he's wearing: black - Leon hates black - buttoned up, pulled tight to strangle himself, and deep despair.

In his memory you are always warm, joyful, beating in euphoria from your small victories. Always beautiful, with a beautiful voice and beautiful dreams that Leon didn't deserve. He will have only a marble headstone, from which he will shake off fallen leaves, bringing you fresh flowers..

He didn't deserve you. But no other woman, not even Ada, can take your place. You left, but his love for you remained, something that supported him in all his missions.

Bitter irony, today is the day of your funeral, and Leon has not yet drunk, although there is already a drunken fog in his head. All he's afraid of right now is that you won't be waiting for him on the other side. He removes the other hand from his shoulder, pulls out of his pocket a small, completely unremarkable silver ring - it's more like a belated request to share the rest of his disgusting life with him, making her a little happier - and puts it on your ring finger, then carefully puts his hand back on the stomach.

You will not share your life with him. And he really shouldn't have put the ring on you because Leon didn't have time to propose. He bought the simplest immediately after returning from New York, deciding that later you yourself would choose what you like best in the jewelry store and already wanted to return home when the bell rang, once again crossed out all his hopes.

"Always a bride and never a wife."

Cruel, but you did worse to him. Three days ago, he would have killed anyone who would cause you to cry, and now you yourself have become the cause of his tears. Him and many others who mourned you.

However, you really looked like a bride. Leon can't help but smile before he says goodbye to you forever. No, you did not take pity on him, did not open your eyes, but he could never be angry with you for a long time. Even now, when everything is tearing him apart, Leon just touches your cheek.

He loved you... so even if your scent starts to fade from pillows and clothes, he will still have your picture. A little reminder of who has always been waiting for him. The bitter amber liquid in a glass may drown out your voice in his head, the image of you, but this shabby photo will always be with him, no matter how much time passes before a new scar appears on his heart.

So the lid of the coffin is forever closed. You disappear into the darkness, although Leon knows (or just wants to believe) that you have long been somewhere beyond the sun. Therefore, today it is not raining and there are no clouds. Streaks of light fall on Leon's face and hair as you go underground, and he thinks you're next to him, resting his chin on his shoulder, the way you always liked to do when he was busy with paperwork. That crystalline hope is the last thing he has left, so he doesn't stay behind to make a moving speech. He doesn't have to say anything, and there's no point in muttering apologies anymore, so...

"Sleep well princess. Maybe I'll go to bed with you soon too."

Because Leon no longer knows how much strength he will have to fight all this.

#leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon x reader #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #reader #angst #leon kennedy angst #leon kennedy resident evil #leon scott kennedy x reader #vendetta leon #Spotify

[edosianorchids901]

Glimpses of the Moon

Ace Omens Hugfest 2024 prompt - "wing hug"

Shivering, Crowley paced the ramparts. He took a few deep breaths and tilted his head back, hoping for stars. But clouds blotted out all but a glimpse of the moon, heavy grey stifling all else. Typical.

A biting wind sliced through his heavy clothes, and he gritted his teeth against the chill. Being out here was really not a good call right now. What was he thinking?

Well. He was thinking he really didn’t want to have a panic attack in the stone maze of the castle. Running around desperately, unable to find his way out…

“Crowley?”

Startled, Crowley turned around to look at the sliver of light emerging from the dark stairs. “Angel? What’re you doing here?”

“Being cold, for one thing.” Aziraphale hugged his arms around himself and shuffled towards Crowley. “It’s a ghastly night.”

“Well, at least it’s not raining.” Crowley glanced at the low, dark clouds. “Yet, anyway. Did you need some fresh air?”

“I did not,” Aziraphale said, coming closer. He paused beside Crowley, lips pressed thin. “But when I got back to our room, you weren’t in bed. I thought you said you were tired?”

Crowley shrugged. That was the downside to their little Arrangement sometimes. They traveled together, usually stayed together. It cut down on expenses and made life a lot less lonely. Unfortunately, it also made it harder to hide when he was struggling. “Nnnh. I did need some fresh air.”

“It’s awfully cold air. Not the sort of air you normally enjoy.” Aziraphale gazed up at the faint glow of the moon, now all masked by the clouds. “I don’t mean to pry, but… did something happen?”

“Not really.” This would make more sense if it had, if he had a real reason to be this agitated.

And if it was something he could explain. Oh, Satan, how could he explain to someone who had never been in Hell? Heaven wasn’t any more friendly, true, but the oppressiveness was more of the “no one notices you exist” variety rather than the crushing, writhing mass of bodies in the halls…

Crowley’s legs buckled, his breath catching, and he grabbed the wall for support. The cold stone numbed his hands instantly, which was the opposite of helpful for grounding himself. He struggled for air, but there wasn’t any, it was all closing in—

“Crowley?” Warm hands caught his arm, holding him up. He wheezed, throat closing. “Crowley, what’s wrong? Why are you breathing like that?”

“I… it’s…” Oh Somebody, he couldn’t breathe at all now. He struggled to focus on Aziraphale, on the warmth beside him, on the familiar smell. Everything about Aziraphale was so, so familiar. “I’m claustrophobic.”

“Um.” Aziraphale rubbed his arm, soothing, but glanced around with a skeptical look. “Crowley. We’re outside.”

“I know we’re bloody outside”, Crowley snarled. “That’s why I’m bloody outside. Those damn stone corridors, they’re so narrow, and I got lost…”

His breath caught again, pressure banding around his middle. It crushed down, pain throbbing through his chest and ribs. He grabbed at his heart, suddenly so dizzy that he might have toppled over if Aziraphale hadn’t been holding onto him.

Which would have been really, really bad considering he was leaning over the edge of the ramparts right now. This was his worst idea ever. Last thing he needed was another fall.

He stumbled away from the edge, hyperventilating, and Aziraphale moved with him. “Hush now, it’s all right. I’m right here, Crowley. You’ll be okay. You don’t have to talk about if it it’s too hard.”

“It’s not… it’s just hard to explain.” But if he was talking, maybe he wouldn’t be able to think about Falling. “Hell’s crowded. Corridors everywhere. Flickering light, like the torches. Lots of areas are stone. Easy to get turned around. Might never find your way out.”

His teeth chattered, and Aziraphale wrapped an arm around him. Then Aziraphale wrapped something else around him too.

Crowley looked at the bright white feathers in shock.

“I suppose getting lost in the castle was a bit too much like being in Hell?” Aziraphale asked gently, wrapping the other wing around him too. The feathers cut off the cold wind. “Does this happen often?”

Crowley growled vaguely, looking away. Yes, it happened often. More often than he liked. “Usually, being in cramped spaces just makes me uncomfortable. I mean, I know the castle isn’t cramped exactly. Bloody massive. But the corridors everywhere, not being able to find my way out. Sets me off.”

“You felt trapped.”

“Hn.” Being up here wasn’t helping much, not with the oppressive clouds, but it was still better than being stuck inside. “I just needed some space, s’ all. Too bad space is covered up, eh?”

He managed to make it sound like a joke, but Aziraphale gave him a knowing look nonetheless and mantled him closer. “This isn’t making you feel trapped, is it?”

Crowley glanced at the feathery wings hugging him, then shook his head. “Nuh, it’s like wearing a cloak. Warm.”

“Ah, yes.” Aziraphale studied him. “I suspect a proper hug would be different though, hmm? A bit too restrictive?”

“Probably, yeah. For now. But this is good.” And weirdly calming. Crowley leaned against Aziraphale, breathing a little more easily now. “Oop, look. Got the moon back, at least.”

He pointed to the break in the clouds, and Aziraphale followed his gaze. “Ah, yes. You see, Crowley? Space is still there.”

“Yeah.” Crowley smiled, gazing at the sliver of moon and a handful of distant stars. “It is.”

#good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #art #ace omens hugfest 2024 #ace omens