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genderlessdude92 · 1 month

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GENTLE, PLEASE

NSFW FIC

PAIRING: Alastor x Wife!Reader

SUMMARY:Y/N, like the nervous wreck she is, can’t stop spending her free time worrying over something that’s not even a big deal. Of course, one thing lead to another. (Thank you, Charlie, for letting them have the day off).

WARNINGS: (SFW) Reader is female, Reader is hellborn, Reader is VERY anxious (alastor as well, but not too much), reader is sensitive obv, angel is angel, usage of y/n, established relationship cussing on both parts, Alastor owns readers soul. (NSFW) alastor’s pain kink shows a little bit, lingerie, reader is TIGHT, reader is also virgin but is registered adult!!!, mention of a safeword, p in v, slight orgasm denial, reader’s tears, soul-chain bondage, alastor knots. Mentions of pregnancy^^ idk if there’s angst in this that counts but both have a good ending so dw (LMK if i missed anything!!!!)

!!TRANSLATING MY WORK OR COPYING IT IS NOT APPRECIATED (But thanks for liking it :3)!!

Alastor was a man of his word.

Y/N was sitting in her room, tired from her piece of vibrating plastic that brang her ‘pleasure’.

“You look gorgeous in your bliss, darling.”

Whenever Alastor rubbed her, ate her out, it made her feel real pleasure, though.

But, did he?

What was real pleasure?

“I’m too big for you, sweetheart, maybe another time.”

Another time.

Did he want another time?

“You’re almost like Charlie’s mother, Hah! We’d make great parents.”

The look he gave you.

Y/N felt so relieved after hearing Charlie was going up to heaven for a meeting just a moment ago, but now all of these stupid…that’s mean. All these overwhelming thoughts were plaguing her head.

She threw the piece of plastic across the room.

She had to give him something.

when was the last time you talked to him? when was the last time you crossed paths with your husband during work? when was the last time you cooked for him?

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

22:10 PM

She couldn’t sleep.

Was she good enough?

Ugh.

She put on a flimsy oversized shirt she usually wears to bed, some polka-dot pajama shorts, and white, knee-high socks.

She didn’t bother to change her underwear garments from the night before.

Y/N looked around before heading out of her hotel room, in case anybody saw her, to Alastor’s room.

Y/N was so happy when Alastor ‘accidentally’ mapped her room next to his on one of the secluded floors when the hotel was being rebuilt. How happy she was, indeed.

Knock knock knock

Silence. but only for a moment before she heard and felt the soft familiar static come closer to the other side of the door.

“Come in, mon cher.” He greeted as he opened the door, stepping aside. His room looked neat and clean, unlike Y/N’s. mostly because there wasn’t much stuff…and he had a whole bayou, making the room bigger.

She nervously walked over the the edge of his bed and sat down, breathing in the smell of his familiar cologne.

“Whats keeping you up so late? you’re usually a slumbering baby at this time of night!” He chortled, sitting down next to her on the plush bed of his.

Fuck.

He was wearing silk pajama pants and a robe, but the robe was just barely tied tightly, exposing a majority of his chest. His monocle was placed elsewhere and his hair was slightly disheveled.

Crap, you woke him up didn’t you.

“…I don’t know.” You dumbass, wrong answer! she scolded at herself.

Alastor chuckled again, “Just missed me?” he asked.

That reminded Y/N of back then. When it was simple and new between them. Before they went to this hotel, decades ago when the two met. She would always go over to his manor in the middle of the night after roaming the streets and feeling lonely.

Ah, yes. Now i have to work for the princess.

“…Yeah…missed you.” Y/N forced a smile alongside that little white lie.

He sighed, “…Alright, what’s going on?” He placed a place on her tensed shoulder, rubbing it soothingly, gently.

Cornered. Y/N didn’t have a choice, “Do you…Do always mean it when…fuck- when you s-say you-um- want to have a child with me?” She said without breaking her eye contact to the floor.

You didn’t have to say it like that, fucking hell

Alastor’s movements froze. “…a…um…” His smiled turned strained, “-a spawn?”

Y/N teared up. there was no way she was getting out of this one.

She whimpered, “…sorry.” before her hands shot up to her face, Alastor grabbed her wrist-

“I would love to. Y-You know I am a man of my word…” Alastor confessed with a chuckle, “-But…only if you are comfortable with it, mon amour.” Alastor went to her eyes level to try and meet her eyes.

Y/N froze. Her tears stopped.

…Holy fuck.

Y/N looked at him, to search for any disapproving emotion in his eyes.

None.

“…I-I want to.” Y/N confessed back, “…too.”

Alastor’s smile softened, he pulled Y/N with ease into him lap, “I’m glad,” and immediately kissed her.

The kiss was soft, sensual, gentle, even. Alastor’s hands began to roam under her shirt once she opened her mouth for him.

Alastor broke away from the kiss for a moment, a string of saliva connecting to their lips, “Y/N…?” he tugged on her shirt.

Oh god, what do i say?

“…Is there something wrong?” Y/N silently panicked.

Alastor widened his eyes for a moment but then softened his demeanor, “You shirt. Can i take it off?” He kissed her lips once more.

Fucking idiot. A brain dead patient would’ve known what that meant.

“…Yes.” She smiled nervously as he broke the the kiss.

Alastor nodded before bunching the hem of her shirt in his claws, “arms up, dear.”

As Y/N put her arms up, letting him gently take off her shirt, Alastor noticed how she was…wearing lingerie.

The lingerie that she wore the night before.

see what i did there

As Y/N put her arms down, she noticed how Alastor was staring at her under garments…

That she didn’t change from last night.

Y/N squeaked and ripped the bra off her body, tossing it away and into the bayou.

Now you’re bra-less.

Y/N slowly look up at Alastor, afraid he was going to scold her for not caring about her hygiene and stuff like that.

Alastor had always scolded her for skipping certain chores to, ‘take the weight off Alastor and Nifty’s shoulders’ whether it be showers, making the bed…laundry.

Dirty landry.

Alastor sighed, “I love you, Y/N,” He laughed softly, “-my clumsy doe.” He finished the sentence with a lustful growl, his claws tickled down her spine, arching her back.

“…I…I love you, t-“ almost immediately, Y/N was pinned down into the center of the bed, Alastor lips crashing onto hers like a starved man.

Fuck yeah, it was hot.

Alastor began to knead his claws at her breasts, squishing them so.

he grinder himself to her clothed core, making her throb for his touch, some contact. It almost felt like all those other times.

…but…it didn’t feel right.

Alastor, after needing a breath of air, noticed the tiniest hint of this, and grown worried,

“Are you alright, dearest?” He checked in.

She was unsure. Yeah, she was in the mood…but she just felt nervous, and he felt so confident.

“…anything i could do?” Alastor questioned once more, still hovering over her, his antlers slightly sizing down.

Think, Y/N, you were fine before, what was he doing before…

“…can you um…be gentle?” She winced, thinking that she sounded like some kind of needy loser. Oh, lord-

“-Why…o-of course, mon cœur.” he reassured, rubbed his thumbs over her small, plush breasts because kissing her once again.

Nothing could have compared more to how satisfied Alastor felt when she moaned.

It wasn’t a pornographic moan either, it was…natural. needing, almost.

Once Alastor slipped his tongue into her awaiting mouth, he began to unwrap his robe, tossing it to the ground and leaving his chest bare for her.

She gasped, “Oh, Al…” before she could wrap her arms around his neck, she felt him tug at her loose shorts,

“May I, darling?~”

Y/N nodded like a frantic woman, lifting her bottom up so he could take off her shorts, awaiting to find her panties completely soaked.

He pushed her bottom down with ease, “Dear, you seem to be completely moist,” Alastor commenting with the low vibration of static in his voice, making Y/N blush frantically. “Tell me, what turn you on so much? Perhaps…” Alastor swiped a finger through her panties, making her yelp. He then brang it back up to his mouth and licked itc moaning softly, “…was it my switch in demeanor?”

Y/N clenched as the sight. Alastor scooted back and lowered herself to her pussy, licking her slowly through the cloth guarding her. When he got to the location of her pearl, he pushed his tongue down onto it, receiving a moan from the receiver.

But his tongue wasn’t enough at the moment.

She wanted more.

“N-no…please, Alastor…I want you.” Y/N pleaded. she was impatient, she couldn’t just sit there and go through what was the usual.

She needed more.

He growled. “Anything for you, ma lumière.” Like an inpatient man, he tapped the bottom of her butt, signaling her to raise it. She did so, and almost immediately did he swiped her panties off of her, resulting in a gasp from Y/N.

Alastor crawled over so his pelvis was just on top of her. standing straight on his knees.

Alastor unbuttoned his silk pajama pants, his hard cock springing free right out of his boxers.

Nothing could have prepared Y/N from how big it looked.

Estimating, it was probably 7.5 inches minimum, and have mercy on her-

It was seriously…thick.

She looked up at Alastor worried. Alastor noticed this and softened his expression,

“You’ll be okay. I’ll go slow for you.”

Y/N nodded, but it certainly didn’t make her feel any better. She was still clenching her womanhood as well, just slightly at the thought of how bad this might hurt.

Alastor sighed. “The safeword is…stop.” Alastor told her. Hopefully that would make her feel safer.

…she opened for him.

When Alastor looked down to examine her, he saw how each second she opened, her juices would stick to her pussy’s lips in strings.

His dick physically throbbed more.

After hooking her legs up and around her waist, he lowered his body down more so that his cock was in lined with her vagina.

Slowly, he rubbed his length up down down through her folds, collecting as much natural lube as he could for her pleasure.

-But the sounds definitely weren’t helping, making Y/N face glow a darker tint of red than before. So, she just zoned out to the rumble of Al’s static.

What snapped her out of her zoning, although, was the burning of her hole, hissing in discomfort.

“Shhh…” Alastor hushed, “Just let me put the tip in, then i’ll stop.” Alastor, still, waited for confirmation.

Fucking pussy, Y/N thought, can’t even take the tip?!-

“o-okay.” She grasped onto his shoulder for an anchor in the pain. I can get through this.

Alastor still gave her a moment before shoving the full tip in, making her wince in pain, squeezing his shoulder.

Alastor hushed her again, “relax for me, darling…” he lowered his mouth to her left nipple, softly suckling on the nub, and effort to ease the pain. As Y/N released more moans, bringing one of her hands up to rub the lonely breast.

After a moment to let her settle around him, he pulled away from her nipple with a pop, bringing her hand back up to his shoulder.

“Just relax for me…” Alastor suggested before closely pushing some more length into her. “You,” he groaned, “You’re doing so good for me…”

How is she so tight?

Tears began to form in Y/N’s waterline. Alastor looked up at the sight and pondered what he could do. After a few moments, he stopped until he was just halfway into her, he leaned down once more to place his lips on her tears, her forehead, and then her lips, whispering affirmations in the middle of each kiss.

…was this too slow?

Y/N couldn’t believe her thoughts.

She pulled away from his lips to speak, “A-Al…put it in…i’m ready…” she requested with desperation in her tone, “i need all of you…”

Alastor looked up at him to spot a lie in the process, “Are you sure, my love-“

“Alastor, fuck me.”

That made Alastor moan, which then turned into a growl as Alastor subconsciously grew into a slightly bigger form of himself, snapping his hips with force into her.

Y/N cried out, but silenced Alastor before he could say anything, “S-Start moving, Al, please…” She took one of her hands off a shoulder to rub her nub, moaning softly as the newly added pleasure mixed with him slowly bottom out before snapping back into her.

He repeated this motion for a moment before slowly picking up her pace, making her moans short between thrusts.

“A-Alastor, ngh…” She called for him, grasping onto his shoulder once again. She tried to pull him down for a kiss.

“Use your words, m…mon cher.” he breathed and he kept his euphoric pace.

“K-Kiss me…” Y/N pleaded through her moans.

Alastor quickly leaned down to peck her lips before breaking the quick kiss,

“I’m gonna fill you…” He quickened his pace, his form becoming more menacing as his antlers grew, “with my seed.” He finished his sentence by smashing his lips onto hers.

As Y/N’s legs began to slip, he quickly used his tendrils to press them to her chest,

Positioning her into a breeding press.

“Ah…A-Alastor…I’m gonna-ah!” Alastor changed his pace to a brutal, electrifying one.

Y/N didn’t even care if he were to be gentle, she just wanted that sweet relief of relea-

“You don’t cum until i say so, darling.” a green shackle on Y/N’s left ankle appeared as a warning. “Understood? Those are our rules of the bedroom.”

He wasn’t wrong there. Those were the rules. He never wanted to feel under-powered in the bedroom at all, so that included orgasm denial.

And Y/N was completely fine with it.

But how quick and hard he’s hitting that far spot in her walls?

Just made her feel like there was no control.

“Alastor, please…” Y/N let tears she didn’t know we’re building up fell.

Alastor hushed her comfortingly, “Sweetheart-fuck-sweetheart, y-you’re almost there…” Alastor could feel himself knot inside of her,

…He wasn’t even sure that he was knotting until Y/N’s moans turned into groans.

He swiped some tears off her cheeks, “Mon cœr, you’re r-ready to cum?” he shot one of his tendrils down to her pussy, rubbing it at a rapid pace. Alastor leaned down to whisper into her ear, the static in his voice now on mute, “cum for me, then.”

That’s when the coil snapped.

The same time when Alastor spilt him seed deep into her womb.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

23:04 PM

Y/N was exhausted.

“Darling, i need you to sit up for a moment.” Alastor demanded.

Y/N groaned like a toddler.

“…fine.” Alastor put down the glass of water onto the nightstand, taking one knee and placing it sorely onto the bed to get closer to her, his shadow helping to lift her butt up as he wiped extra semen off of her.

after a moment of him disappearing into the bathroom, he came back looking neat and ready for bed.

…with a genuine smile on his face as his eyes met your tired ones.

Alastor went to the other side on the bed, sighing as he felt the soft surface under him.

He scooted closer to Y/N to get her under the blankets, dramatic, he thought as Y/N made a whine of protest again from the movement.

Once everything felt to his liking, he laid down next to her. and pulled her close, nuzzling his cheek into her hair.

“…Hey…Al?”

“mhm?”

“…I love you…”

He softened his smile, chuckling light-heartedly,

“…I love you two, as well.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

BONUS ☆♪

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“Hey, sweet cheeks,” Angel called from the other side of the lobby, walking over to Y/N, “Still up for that event thingy at the new bar? Heard that the sharks are blackl-“

Angel stared at the sight before him.

Y/N, laying on the couch with her legs slightly spread and a heating pad on the thighs.

“…Don’t-“

“Is it just me, or do i see you…a supposed to be virgin friend of mine…sore from a…” He examines the current position for a moment, walking around the couch to stand in front of her, “…breeding press position.”

Y/N stares at him like he’s her next target on a murder spree.

And which, he probably was.

“What? I’m and expert with this kind of stuff,” He pulls out his phone and sits next to you, “forget that I work for Valentino? Damn, how good was that sex?”

“Angel, if you want to keep the ability of having sex, be quiet.”

NOTE: I felt rlly devious making this fic 😍 But all jokes aside, i rlly need some writing tips since this is literally my first fic ever 😭 (we aren’t counting my slender x wife!reader fic from 2016 that got 11k notes help it wasn’t even that good-) But let’s be fr, tips and comments are appreciated! I’m also taking reqs but only Alastor ones for now <3 oki baiiii

-Genderlessdude92, Kiki

MY MASTERLIST!! (Click me :D)

#alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor #alastor smut #alastor x wife reader #hazbin smut #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin imagines #hazbin alastor x reader #alastor x you

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vampire-kiing · 24 days

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Huskerdust Headcanons!!

Husk likes his coffee black (or with whiskey depending on the day) and Angel likes it with lots of cream and suger

Angel's chest fluff is kinda like Mary Poppins bag, Husk once found a bag of coke well cuddling

Husk knocks Angel's cups of makeup brushs off this vanity (cuz cat) and but feels bad because he has no idea what goes where

Angel has bought them so many matching shirts with dirty jokes on them (Husk only wears them to make him happy)

Husk runs baths for Angel after a bad day, if Angel wants him to stay he helps with whatever he needs (he turns away when Angel takes the boots off)

They both love old romance moives, but they both pretend there stupid

Whenever there around eachother when getting dressed they tie eachother's bowties

Husk send one long text and Angel send 12 short ones

Angel was down for sex on the first day, but taking off his boots or socks that took more time being a big boundary of his (Husk never pushed his boundaries)

Kissed infront of Charlie once on accident, she almost exploded from happiness (She may have made there ship name)

When Val and Alastor are being well overlords, Husk and Angel try to help eachother the best two broken losers can. But most of the time they just end up laying next to eachother, just being together

#hazbin hotel #angel dust #angel dust hazbin hotel #angel husk #husker hazbin hotel #husker x angel dust #huskerdust #angelhusk #huskerdust headcanons #alastor #valentino

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deadghosy · 2 months

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DUUUDE OMG as someone who had a HUGE creepypasta phase I'm obsessed with your hazbin hotel x creepypasta reader fics omggg

Anywaysss could I possibly request a Hazbin Hotel x Sally Williams reader? Completely platonic obviously :)

HAZBIN HOTEL X SALLY WILLIAMS! READER

prompt: a small child with a bloody body accidentally visits the hotel of a cartoon she only saw once

“BENNN! I wanna be in a cartoon..” you says whining to Ben as you grip your teddy bear. Ben rubs his chin thinking then smirks. “What kinda cartoon?” “One with friendship! Like My little pony.” You said with an adorable smile. “What about a better cartoon…” Ben said with a evil smile

And now you are now in the cartoon called Hazbin hotel as you just stood there sobbing at not seeing ponies. Where’s fluttershy? Where rarity? AND WHERE THE HELL IS TWILIGHT SPARKLE.

You must have caused a bad scene as Alastor had took your hand and brought you to the hotel for shelter. You told the “nice” man your friend made you come here making Alastor think you got killed by someone. But what’s a child like you doing here?…..

When the whole crew met you, they found you adorable but they were concerned on why a child, most likely a “human” child like you is in hell.

You have a room next to the next lesbian couple. After they cleaned you and having you wear shoes..which didn’t go well so they let you wear a new pair of white socks as you wore a cute pink dress.

Vaggie felt something about you was off. But she felt like heaven had not let you in. So she didn’t press any farther.

Angel gives you fat nuggets because he trusts you to look after him as he works. He never told you what he does for work but you enjoy keeping fat nuggets some company.

You dressed fat nuggets up as a pig princess. Angel found it cute and funny as he took a photo of it to remember the memory forever.

The most to baby you is definitely the Morningstars and Alastor a little bit. As Alastor felt to protect when he first seen you. He always tells you to smile at most to not let anyone see what’s underneath.

Alastor takes you on strolls at times. Even taking you to cannibal town where you can meet his dearest friend. Rosie, an overlord who takes on the cannibal town.

Rosie absolutely adores you! She called you sweetie pie all the time you visit her with Alastor.

I imagine you gave husk ponytails as he just grumbled drinking. He didn’t feel the need to scold you, you’re just a kid. Kids don’t know no better.

You and husk’s dynamic is “drunk uncle x pretty pink princess kid”

Husk hates to admit it but he likes your presence as you help him clean. Although he tries to tricks you to not clean the glasses so you won’t cut yourself.

Lucifer definitely tries to take care of you how he did for Charlie and it’s so wholesome as he would bring you ducks to your room that across of his.

He is such a overprotective father figure-

Angel and you have such cute fashion shows together as you both dress up like princesses💗

I headcannon that Charlie and Lucifer would spoil you rotten like getting you cute dresses or whatever you want as long as you are happy.

I can see that if it was your birthday, it’s as if Christmas and a birthday was combined as you get so much gifts😭

Niffty definitely teaches you how to clean as she always wanted to teach someone how to clean without ignoring her.

I can imagine you trying to contact Ben somehow as Ben is being interrogated back at the mansion as slenderman is chasing Ben with a pan demanding where you are at.

Sir Pentious lets you In on his machine shenanigans as you just smile with the egg boiz who hold your hands.

You showed your teddy bear to Lucifer who cooed at you as he made you a duck that had bear ears..you were weirded out at first but appreciated it. It was nice to get gifts! 💗

I headcannon you like greeting the residents in the hotel as they greet you back not excepting to se an actual human child in the hotel

I can see Angel dust having Velvette make cutesy outfits for you as he likes to see you as a little sister.

I can imagine you just doing that evil ass child laugh to scare the residents…you little ass menace

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hazbin-writings-and-musings · 2 months

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Lucifer Morningstar x Pregnant!Reader Headcanons Part 3

Keeping the ball rolling after part two, here's Lucifer and reader headcanons as baby gets ever closer to arrival. I think I'll do two more, with the last one detailing the actual birth and dear Lucy welcoming his second child. Thank you for reading and please enjoy!

Warnings: Pregnancy Mention, Smut

- His dedication to soothing your aches and pains grows even faster than they do as you get further along. The wealth of information now available about pregnancy (albeit not of the supernatural variety) initially overwhelms him, but he manages to find what he needs in books about prenatal massage. It doesn't matter where or when pain strikes, he'll be there to roll up his sleeves and work as long as he needs to make sure you're better. He's happy to have a professional masseuse join the palace staff to provide the help you need, but he also just enjoys doing it himself. There's a kind of intimacy he can't explain when it comes to tending his beloved and the body you're growing his child with. It doesn't hurt that his fingers are literally magical.

- He wants the FULL stereotypical expecting-a-baby experience, so yes, he'd love to do some breathing classes with you! The King of Hell might struggle to do anything in public without attracting attention, but he manages to locate a relaxed enough class that the two of you can attend without fear of paparazzi, and he is beyond thrilled from the very first session. There's not much he can offer now and through delivery beyond support, but he intends to give 110%. Pregnant yoga is also not off the table, nor is any activity that lets the two of you bond and enjoy the experience. To a very small extent, he enjoys these sessions because he gets to be seen with you. The Sinners and Hellborn just can't help sneaking an extra look at the King and his expecting lover. He doesn't need to say a word whenever he meets the gaze of someone looking the two of you over, the proud puff of his chest says it all as he lovingly splays a hand on your belly; that's right, I pulled this.

- He wants to brainstorm names right away, and because the two of you elect to be surprised by the birth sex, a very long list of potential selections is drafted for any outcome. His tastes tend to be a bit more old fashioned, but he has a knack for choosing those whose beauty has passed the test of time. His selections are also based on humans that have caught his attention through the ages, for good and bad reasons. Charlie was named after an ancient king, for example, who stood out most to Lucifer because he managed change on a scale few can ever hope to achieve, and change was what he desired for his child above all else. As he follows the naming rule of "two yesses, one no" he listens to all of your suggestions just as eagerly, which over the months results in an increasing long piece of parchment covered in names and notes. Vetoed suggestions are crossed out and he makes a point to note any potential issues with a name in great detail, and while the process is far from streamlined, the two of you have a great deal of fun selecting a final list of favorites.

- Out of everything required to prepare the nursery, selecting baby clothes tends to get him crying from the cuteness most often. He'll hold up potential outfits and try to imagine the baby in them, and while he's got a fantastic sense of fashion, the fabulousity doesn't detract from the adorableness before him. The itty bitty booties, the tiny socks, the cute little onesies... Stars, he's going to have another perfect baby, and since they'll no doubt be as precious as Charlie was... You'll often find him tearing up but beaming in silent thought as he looks over your future child's wardrobe, and he'll always explain himself honestly; he just can't wait to enjoy another round of baby days. If only they didn't go by so quickly...

- Lots of things grow increasingly difficult as you get further along, but he's always up for the challenge of making life easier for you, especially in regards to the bedroom. A baby bump will make certain positions impossible, but that's of little consequence for a man that can bend reality and his own physical form with ease. His capacity for effortless flight makes gravity a non-issue, and where his magic hits its limit, his creativity takes over. Whatever position results in comfort and satisfaction for you will be achieved, and he thinks of plenty to be offered. With his long, forked tongue added to the mix, you need not worry about missing out, no matter how much your middle swells. If anything, he rather enjoys being on the bottom...

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deanbrainrotwritings · 4 months

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— SWORDS, DRAGONS, AND DIET COKE

SUMMARY : Halloween dressed as the Scooby gang… her dressed as Daphne… things can only go right from there.

PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : castiel, charlie bradbury, joan carlisle (ofc)

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), oral sex, unprotected sex (barf), fingering, p in v, pussy spanking, violence, anger issues, implied trauma 👍🏻, ghost possession

WORD COUNT : 4.7k

A/N : the devil wears prada song title. also, how come women look hot when they cosplay male characters, but men don’t look hot when they cosplay female characters??? EXPLAIN! SOMEONE, PLEASE!!! Or change my mind ;) XXXXXX

“So we all agree that we look ridiculous?” Y/n asked with a smile as they stepped into the loud and crowded frat house.

“Cas and I, do,” Dean leaned down to say close to her ear. “You, Charlie, and Joan, don’t.” He circled his arm around her waist, fingers trailing across her jawline to turn her face towards his. He gave her a sweet kiss and moved her dyed hair over her shoulder.

She returned the kiss with a smile, turning her body to face him fully as he slid his hand down from the back of her shoulder to her ass. She wrapped her arms around his neck, opening her mouth to slip her tongue into his mouth. He squeezed the supple flesh of her ass and she moaned, threading her fingers through his soft hair.

“Alright, Fred and Daphne, we get it: you’re in love,” Joan giggled, taking Y/n’s waist to pull her away from Dean.

“That’s fine,” Dean shrugged playfully, letting his girlfriend go while he tugged at the ascot around his neck, “we’ve got a mystery to solve.” Charlie snorted and gave Dean a hard smack across his back that only made him pout.

“Well, technically, yes,” Joan laughed. “Listen, I don’t know if the ghost will come out tonight or not. But I’m glad you guys are here,” she smiled at the group and squeezed Y/n’s waist before letting her go. “Obviously, there’s been sightings in the basement, boring, but sometimes it’s appeared on the second floor, or the attic,” Joan explained, fixing her glasses on her nose.

“Woah, Miss Carlisle,” two guys passed by wolf-whistled and looked at Joan disrespectfully, eyes trailing over long orange socks against dark skin, a tiny pleated skirt, and a tight ribbed turtleneck—also in a shade of orange. They only glanced at her face to smirk smugly as if her deadpan expression meant they won.

“Douchebags,” Dean grunted, glaring at the arrogant boys.

“So, how should we split up?” Charlie grinned, trying to remove their focus from the immature men. They all looked back at her, became relaxed, then looked towards Dean and Y/n.

“Well, I could check out the second floor and Dean can check the attic,” she suggested, to which Dean chewed his lip and nodded in agreement.

“Naturally, Shaggy and Scoob stick together, so, uh, Charlie and Cas, you two take the basement,” Dean smiled boyishly at the two, and Cas rolled his eyes, sighing. Charlie laughed and punched Cas’ shoulder gently, causing Cas to smile slightly.

“Right, I’ll stay here, then,” Joan smiled, then gave her old friend, Y/n a slap on the ass. Y/n giggled, and rubbed the spot, hardly feeling a sting.

“We’ll meet here again after?” Cas asked, they all nodded in agreement, then both Charlie and Cas started making their way through the house to get downstairs. Cas tugged at the neck of the costume with a deep frown.

Dean reached out for Y/n’s elbow and slid his fingers down her arm to hold her hand. Joan stopped her, giving her a half-hug before Dean could drag her away to do their job. “Hey, let’s catch up later, you look so happy now, and also, your boyfriend’s hot,” Joan laughed softly, giving her friend a gentle kiss on the cheek.

“Sure, Jay, maybe once the case is done we can all hang out,” she smiled, hugging her friend back. “It’s sort of our thing to go to the local bars. That sound good?” Joan nodded, squealing excitedly, and stepped away.

Dean smiled at Joan then tugged Y/n towards him—her quiet laughter making him warm. She smiled up at him and let him place his arm over her shoulders to kiss the top of her head. Y/n circled his waist with her arm and clenched the side of his white long-sleeved shirt as they walked upstairs.

Students drank along the stairs, talking, and laughing with their friends. Properly having fun. There were two friends dressed as Arthur and Merlin, which was cute, and Dean started with interest at the sword sheathed into the leather belt around his hips.

“I’m kinda hungry, is that weird?” Dean pouted, releasing her so she could walk up the stairs without complications. Their fingertips still touched, their forefingers hooked together, and back he went to holding her once they got to the top of the stairs.

“Not really, it’s cute,” she smiled, then shivered, either a ghost or the wintry breeze that chilled houses. “Maybe we can find food or snacks here,” she suggested, pulling him close to absorb his heat before he left her to check out the attic.

“You should’ve brought a jacket,” he scolded gently, then playfully squeezed her breast. “I’ll try to keep you warm while you walk me to the attic,” he told her playfully. She smiled and rolled her eyes, then pushed him into the nearest wall. Dean smirked at her, and dropped his hand from her chest, but she grabbed both his wrists to place his hands over both breasts.

“A jacket will ruin my costume, I look great,” she argued jokingly, pressing herself against him. Dean lowered his hands a little, enough to cup the bottom over her breasts while he brushed his thumbs over her pebbled nipples. No bra beneath the soft, violet dress she wore.

“Yeah, you… look super hot as Daphne,” Dean breathed out, licking his bottom lip before biting it. “Fuck…” he muttered, his head thumping against the wall when he tipped it back, dropping his hands from her breast to hold her hips.

“Let’s get this case over with,” she smiled, pushing against his chest to step away. He whined, digging his fingers hard into her hips to bring her back in, and dropped a kiss to her glossed, pink lips—staining his own.

“Okay, I’ll, uh, leave now,” Dean smiled, and licked his mouth to taste her gloss. She laughed softly and shook her head, fixing the ascot around his neck by placing it back beneath the sky blue polo shirt. “Yummy lip stuff, by the way,” he teased, reaching down to tug her dress down as it crinkled slightly at her hips.

“Lip stuff,” she repeated with a cute cackle, appreciative of the way he distractedly fixed her dress. “I love you—a lot,” she sighed happily, patting his now-flushed cheeks.

“Me, uh,” Dean stuttered, “I love you, too. A lot,” he added, watching her smirk and slowly walk away from him. She waved at him and turned around to start knocking on doors.

“If you’re an FBI agent, how come you’re dressed like Daphne?” She pushed past the irritating guy dressed as Tarzan, ignoring him as she looked around the room that he shared with a friend. “And how come you’re not arresting us? We’re doing drugs and drinking, not all of us are twenty-one,” he told her.

She could feel him behind her, and she rolled her eyes, squatting down carefully to not reveal anything as she searched for anything suspicious, pulling out the EMF detector from her small purse.

“You’ve never heard of undercover then?” She asked sarcastically, getting up to search the rest of his room. According to him, it suddenly gets colder than usual, he hears weird sounds, he’s heard voices—the typical signs of a haunting. “And the focus on the case isn’t underage drinking or drug usage, it’s… there’s a killer,” she hesitated to share information, but he’s attached himself to her—well, much like this irritating ghost has attached itself to this frat house.

“Wow, that’s dope,” he burped drunkenly, which irritated her more.

“I don’t know if I'd call my friends dying dope, but, whatever,” she muttered, hiding the EMF detector as she turned towards the closet.

“You’re hot, smart, and badass, like actual Daphne. T-that’s why you’re dressed like her, right?” He asked, hiccuping before taking another—large—gulp of alcohol, straight from the bottle.

“You shouldn’t drink too much, it’s going to be awful in the morning,” she warned, avoiding his question as she went into the bathroom. She heard him follow, and sighed, putting the EMF detector away into her purse once more.

“Aw, so you do care about me,” he smiled lopsidedly, cheeks flushed with drunkenness. She smiled sarcastically, then glared at him. “I kinda like older women, ya know?” She blinked at him in bewilderment, watching him stumble towards her, but she backed up rather than helped out. “That’s why I let you in an-and said yes to… everything you asked me,” he grinned, setting the alcohol down on the counter, but it slipped and shattered on the floor. “Whoops.” She narrowed her eyes at him, and scoffed, her jaw clenching angrily. She stomped out while he became distracted by the loss of his spirits.

“Woah, hey,” he jogged towards her, taking her arm. She pulled away from him, anger burning bright in her chest. “We haven’t even-”

“Get lost, kid, I’m not interested,” she interrupted him.

“I’m not a kid, I’m turning twenty one this semester,” he told her smugly, reaching out to brush her hair much like Dean had earlier, except this time she didn’t like it. Immaturely, she pushed it forward again, and rolled her eyes. “Come on, Tarzan needs Jane,” he tried flirtatiously, but she turned around, and swung the door open, ready to leave.

“Well, good thing I’m Daphne and I’ve already got Fred,” she spat, leaving him in the room alone, “I’m gonna get to work now, kid.”

“All the pretty girls lie about having boyfriends,” he slurred, leaning against the doorway. She grimaced at his words, she didn’t think he could make her cringe more than she already was. Maybe someone could make her vomit without being physically nauseating? That would be impressive.

“Maybe take a hint and leave women alone,” she told him, but fished for her phone in her purse to call Dean. Still, Tarzan rolled his eyes at her, and boredly watched her put her phone to her ear. It rang halfway when Dean answered with a gruff, ‘sweetheart’ that made her insides warm and delighted. “Hi, babe, I’m upstairs and Tarzan here doesn’t know what ‘no’ means. Please, come save him, I love you.”

She didn’t hang up when she heard wood break, and Dean swore, “son of a bitch.” She was about to ask if he was okay, when Tarzan grabbed her waist and pulled her towards him, her palms landing on his sweaty, flushed, somewhat hairy chest.

“Gross, let me-”

“Uh, what?” Dean asked, then she heard his boots, and more thumping as she struggled to get out of Tarzan’s rough hold. “Babe, okay, I’ll be there, love you,” he said quickly, but he also didn’t hang up. She knew he probably had his phone pressed to his ear by his shoulder.

“Save me?” Tarzan laughed, spinning her so she’d enter his room once more. She got angrier the more he manhandled her.

“Yeah, you gonna back off? My boyfriend’s on his way, and you’re drunk, don’t do something stupid,” she tried to deescalate without violence.

“You were looking at me and you smiled,” he reasoned, lamley. She looked up at him in disbelief, his irritating icy ice and dirty blonde hair, pimples placed here and there.

“I.. What? That means you have a free pass into my pants now, regardless of what I say? Wow, I forgot guys like you were real. At least I won’t regret this,” she snarled, slamming his nose with her forehead.

Finally, he loosened his grip on her, and she stumbled back, rubbing her forehead. It definitely hurt him more than it hurt her. He shouted a loud ‘fuck’ and held his nose as it bled, warm, thick red dripping between his fingers.

When he started toward her, her eyes widened, and she grimaced at the thought of his blood getting anywhere near her. “No,” she warned him, as if he were a child.

She quickly moved around him and kicked him, white ankle boots striking his lower back, causing him to trip forward through the door. She heard gasps, but she stepped closer to him, her heart beating fast, but her mind, bread, and movements remained serene. He turned over into his back, looked around at all the people dressed up and watching, too drunk to even think properly.

Finally, there was that cold chill. She became distracted by the visible puff of white air passing from between her lips, but when he tried to kick her, she jumped back before he could succeed, chuckling darkly. When he gave up, she got down anyway, and straddled his lap punching him once, or twice, or more than that.

She stopped only when she felt warm fingers around her wrist after who knows how long. A mouthwatering, unsavoury saltiness in her mouth made her splutter. She unclenched her fist, whining at the pain she felt when she stretched her fingers out.

She looked up and saw Dean’s worried face. He simpered when he saw her, wiped her mouth carefully of salt as she blinked up at him. He helped her up, when she tried to do it alone, and she finally looked around, confused. Joan was helping Tarzan up, Cas and Charlie were telling people to get out of the second floor.

“Hey, how ya feelin’, baby?” Dean asked, pulling her attention away from the people dressed up in silly clothes. He held her face gently, wiping remnants of salt from her mouth that she now began to taste strongly. She pulled away from him and ran to the bathroom to spit out the tiny, unpleasant grains, her face pulled up in distaste.

She rinsed it out of her mouth with water from the sink and saw the blood flowing from her hand. Dean appeared once more, took her hand out from the running water, and guided her back into the room, to sit her down on the nearest desk.

“Tell me you’re okay,” he whispered, brushing his thumb gently over her forehead.

“I’m fine, just… confused,” she reassured him with a weak smile, taking his hand away to kiss his knuckles with wet lips. “Also that much salt is gross, we should stop shoving salt up people’s mouths,” she added with a laugh. He chuckled, too, and pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose.

“I’m gonna find some stuff to clean your hand, uh, I’ll be quick,” he told her, waiting until she nodded. Still, he was worried, so he hesitated to remove himself from her presence. “Want me to stay? I can call Cas up-”

“It’s fine, I like it when you take care of me,” she smiled at him, and mimicked the tip-of-the-nose kiss he gave to her. Dean hummed in amusement and nodded, whispering a little ‘ok’ before heading into the bathroom to search for the first-aid kit.

She held her head with her slightly-more-okay hand, realising just how painful that headbutt actually was now that the adrenaline died down. And her hands, they hurt so bad. They were covered in what was now dried blood and she frowned, Cas was gonna have to heal that later. When she was finally relaxed and able to breathe.

She talked herself down in her mind. Whatever she did was not her fault. She was obviously possessed and while she was furious because of his behaviour, she would have left as soon as he was on the floor. Sure, the intention was there, but who knows what state she left Tarzan in. As horrible and irritating as he was, she wasn’t like him. How stupid of her to feel bad.

“Babe,” Dean called softly and she averted her abstracted gaze back to him. “Hey, take this,” he offered, a pill and a water bottle in his hand. She didn’t even notice him.

“Thanks,” she murmured, but he pushed the pill into her mouth goodnaturedly, which made her chuckle. She took the bottle when he handed it to her, and watched him lovingly take her other hand to inspect it, before focusing on her face once more.

She downed half the bottle and panted, pleased with the cool liquid travelling down her insides. He lifted his other hand up to her face and gently pressed a finger against her forehead.

“Headbutt?” Dean asked with a smile, she nodded, and watched him take an alcohol wipe out from its square package. He gently cleaned her slightly-bruised forehead, and despite knowing it was making it unsanitary again, he blew air against her forehead to get it dry faster. Her eyes shut instantly, and she laughed, then felt his lips push against the same spot.

“Mm, feels a lot better now,” she hummed, leaning against his lingering mouth.

“Yeah, I bet,” he mumbled against her forehead with a grin. Dean pulled away and gave her a soft kiss on the lips before tending to her hands quietly.

He gave her time to process, he didn’t push for answers with a dozen questions, he didn’t bring up the case. Instead, he made her laugh, and he kissed her sweetly, and he caressed her tenderly. Even after he was finished, he threw everything out, made sure she knew he was there, that she was safe.

He sat with her and held her.

“Well, I think I know what brings the ghost out,” she started, playing with his sleeves.

“Yeah? Well, there was nothing in the attic,” he added. Dean watched her closely, she could feel his gaze, the worried shapes he drew on her thigh. It made her shiver. His proximity, the sudden downturn of emotions, his loving nature, all of it was overwhelming. In a good way. “I love you,” he said suddenly, it made her smile.

“I love you, too,” she responded, looking up at him lovingly.

What started out as an innocent, emotional kiss, turned into a possessive, heated make out session that left her seamless panties drenched with arousal.

Dean was everywhere.

So hot. So loving.

His large hands kneaded and squeezed, pulled and scratched, pink lips kissing hard and wet at her skin, sharp teeth nipping and marking, tongue licking and rubbing against suction marks.

“I never knew that I could want someone so badly,” he whispered, lowering her from the desk to shove her violet dress up her waist. She moaned softly, throwing her head back as he sucked and bit at her throat, his fingers slipping inside her panties, moving forward behind the silky barrier to gather her slick. “So wet, good girl,” he murmured, pressing his fingertips into her clenching, wet entrance. He moved his fingers up to her clit and drew circles around it at just the perfect pace, successfully clouding her mind.

Dean pulled away from the column of her throat, eying the reddish mark on her pulse, and watched her writhe as he massaged her clit relentlessly. She felt his teeth at her chin and she groaned, spreading her legs wider, desperate to feel him all over her body. She felt the quick buildup of her orgasm. Dean wasn’t teasing, he was determined, occasionally switching the figures on her clit, each time it made her tremble, until she tensed up.

It was then that he pulled away, the material of her underwear slapping electrifyingly against her skin. “Please,” she begged, opening her eyes lazily. Dean smirked and bit his lip, taking her underwear from beneath, he stretched it upwards, moved it up and down, so the silky material rubbed against her clit.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” He asked with a chuckle, watching her mouth fall open and her body turn to mush once more. It must have been enough for him—as an answer—because he released her underwear, started to push them down her legs, and settled on his knees in front of her. He lifted her legs, one after the other, to take her underwear off completely. Dean lifted the periwinkle panties up to his mouth and licked her arousal from the crotch with a smug, “yummy.”

“Stop, we’re wasting time,” she laughed breathlessly, brushing her fingers through his hair. Instead of getting up, Dean took her thigh and lifted it, moving his face forward to tease her clit with the tip of his tongue. “Oh, fuck,” she gasped, her nails scratching the top of the smooth, wooden desk. She slowly sat up on it and watched Dean shuffle closer on his knees to taste her again.

“You taste so good,” he whispered, sliding his hands up her thighs. She leaned back slightly, watching his mouth inch closer, his warm breath making her shiver, and become aware of how embarrassingly drenched she was. He held her hips and slid the tip of his tongue from her entrance, through her labia, and began circling around her clit a few times.

She squirmed and moaned, watching him start to suck her clit—hot, muffled sounds of appreciation vibrating through her vulva from his mouth. Slowly, one of his hands travelled from her hip to her abdomen, sliding down with the intent to make her impatient, and then, he pulled away, replacing her clit in his mouth with two of his fingers. He sucked slowly, and pulled them out, coated in his warm saliva to push them into her waiting vagina.

Dean returned his mouth to her clit, focusing on her pleasure, doing everything the way he’d memorised she loved most. He angled his fingers upwards inside her, pushing deeper and deeper, brushing against the front of her walls. She clenched around him, squirmed needily, and impatiently rolled her hips against his mouth as he massaged deep inside her.

She moaned his name and tugged at his hair, her body slowly turning stiff and ready for her climax. He pulled away again. His lips made a wet, salacious sound when they parted from her cunt, and he slowly pulled his fingers out of her pussy. She breathed hard, watching him suck his soppy fingers clean of her slick with a moan. He used his other hand to busy himself with his belt as he stood before her once more.

She took his wrist to pull his fingers from his mouth with a loud slurp and placed them into hers. She sucked softly on them and stared at the slack-jawed expression while moving her hand beneath his shirts and into his unzipped pants. Dean removed his fingers from inside her warm mouth and held her cheek, moaning against her lips when she teasingly rubbed her soft hand over his cock.

“I need you inside me,” she whispered, wrapping her fingers around his thick cock, warm and hard in her hand. Dean moaned softly and nodded mindlessly, capturing her lips for a quick kiss.

“Where inside you?” He purred, teasingly brushing his nose against hers, his warm breath tickling her lips. She laughed softly instead of answering him, pushed his jeans and boxers down, slowly sinking down to her knees in front of him. “I guess that answers my question,” he exhaled, slipping his fingers through her hair.

She looked up into his eyes and let him bring her mouth towards his cock. The tip brushed against her lips, smearing the precum that dribbled out from the slit against her pink lips. She opened her mouth more, letting him guide her on and off his dick. She hummed at the taste of him invading her taste buds, the way it always did, making her mouth water.

He liked how messy it got when she went down on him. She knew the way she drooled over his thick length set a fire of passion and desire that would make the Sun envious. When tears fell from her eyes across her flushed cheeks, her lashes sticking together, her eyes bright and glossy as she choked on him—he gripped her ginger hair harder and properly began fucking her face.

Fast and loud, his cock went down her throat and in and out of her salivating mouth, edging himself the way he’d done to her. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” Dean praised, starting to slow down throating fucking her until he eventually pulled out of her mouth. A string of saliva and precum connected her mouth and his cock, breaking away when she stood back up.

He brought her in for a kiss with a smug smirk, lewdly licking her lips for remnants of him before pushing his warm tongue past her swollen lips. They moaned softly and she buried both hands into his hair, her hands flexing before gripping strands of his hair to tug at. “We’re wasting time,” she reminded him, pecking his lips before sitting back up on the desk, using her calves to bring his hips forward.

“I hope we waste a lot of time,” he licked his lips with a grin. Dean teasingly took his cock and gently tapped her clit with the head of it.

She laughed breathlessly, squirming when he dragged his cock through her soaked folds, “that’s not funny.”

“Well, it made you laugh,” he bit his lip, pressing his cock into her clenching, dripping pussy.

“Your… face is funny, that’s why,” she lied playfully, his lips hovering over hers. He chortled and pulled back slightly, brows furrowed in playful offence, then he slapped his hand over her clit without warning. She yelped, and attempted to shut her legs, but Dean’s hips prevented her from doing so.

“Come ‘ere, baby,” he whispered, guiding his cock back to her entrance. He cut off her playful protest with a kiss, and gently pushed himself into, digging his blunt nails into her hips. She placed her arm around his shoulder to prevent him from pulling away from her lips, only momentarily catching their breaths as he started to fuck her with abandon.

Items on the desk rattled as he fucked her hard, the wooden table hitting the wall with every thrust of his hips. Her stomach flipped excitedly, his soft moans against her mouth, small whines from her against his. Dean occasionally bit her lip and kissed her with passion as they clung to each other, pulling each other close, desperate to get closer.

Their warm breaths mingled together and she rolled her hips against his, her face burning with a blush, her pussy clenching tight around him. He grunted against her lip and buried his face into her neck, pushing his cock as deep as he could into her. His hot cum spilled inside her and she moaned in unison with him, her orgasm triggered by his.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he rasped, fucking her through her orgasm before coming to a slow halt. Her neck was damp with his warm breath, her hot skin flushing a deeper rosy colour when she whimpered his name.

“Thanks, Dean,” she murmured, kissing his temple before he pulled away. He smiled at her, his green eyes lovingly trailing over her face. He cupped her cheeks, pressing a lovingly kiss to her lips, the tip of her nose, and her forehead. “It’s kinda suspicious how long we took, isn’t it?” She laughed, biting her lip to muffle her moan when he slowly pulled out of her.

“Yeah, uh, pretty much,” he chuckled, pulling his pants up. She watched him with her legs squeezed shut, the flushed afterglow on his face was more than obvious.

“Oh well,” she shrugged, taking her underwear from the desk. Dean snatched them from her with narrowed eyes and got down to put them back on her. “Let’s go before it gets weirder,” she giggled, moving off the desk to fix her underwear properly. Dean nodded and lowered her dress once more, staring at her with a smirk when she began squirming as she walked.

“You don’t wanna clean up?” He laughed, slapping his hand over her ass when he joined her. He squeezed the flesh and wrapped his arms around her from behind.

“We can shower back at the motel,” she shrugged, squeaking when he turned her around and threw her over his shoulder faster than she could process. She laughed with him, clinging to his shirt as he held her with one arm around her, the other hand squeezing her thigh reassuringly.

“Let’s get outta here fast, then,” Dean smiled, slapping her ass. “Wait, I need to say… I finally got to fuck Daphne.”

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dean’s 45th birthday celebration masterlist

do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or republish my work on another platform

#dean’s 45th birthday celebration #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean x female!reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester x you #dean winchester smut #dean winchester fanfiction

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iheart-alastor · 1 month

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Alastor x Reader x Lucifer head cannons

What if Alastor and Lucifer both liked the same Person?

Warning: cat alastor involved 😝

No pronouns used

When these motherfuckers find out they both like u it's a quiet rivalry

They act like kids just for your attention

Lucifer would probably say "alastor hit me" then go crying to you

if alastor makes up an alibi Luci watches as you go over to Alastor and say sorry for thinking he did that as alastor smirks at Lucifer teasingly actually making him mad before he storms off

They're both buying u gifts constant and taking you places like your schedule is booked because your hanging out with either one of them

Alastor would tease Lucifer around you calling him small and if he got a laugh out of you Lucifer would be bawling his eyes out to Charlie In a secluded area unless you find out and instantly comfort him

SLEEPOVERS WITH LUCI❤

This man buys u duck pajamas so you can both fall asleep together matching 😝

Yk those socks what hold hands? You both have a pair but duck version

Alastor is probably going to be taking you to Rosie's Emporium and buyin you gifts (talks about you to Rosie)

They both love seeing you happy sometimes they like it when you cry because they both race to see who can comfort you first

Lucifer would ask you to cuddle on the couch in the lobby so alastor could see and that mf gets JEALOUS

Angel dust would probably tease you about pulling the king off hell and a freaky overlord

Charlie on the other hand is so happy seeing alastor fall in love and happy that Lucifer moved on from Lilith

Alastor probably leaves "love bites" on your shoulder he doesn't call them love bites though he says it's marking his territory

Make the 3 of you matching bracelets begs they'd be so happy (but probably try to hide each other's bracelet so they make you think they lost it)

(𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫😝)

Alastor gets you a cat of himself so you always be thinking of him

And this cat follows you everywhere no joke

It hates Lucifer just like al but difference is it starts growling and shaking when lucis next to you

Lucifer makes you a duck keychain to put on your stuff by it had a cute little hat what looks like his on it😫

Start hiding stuff Lucifer gets you because cat alastor would destroy it

Both alastor and the cat also fight over you

The cat loves when you mess with its ears (same with alastor but he'd never tell you that)

Lucifer snuggles into you when your having sleepovers unless you let the cat in his room it's sitting between you both glaring at you while playing radio static to sound like it's purring

The cat steals one of your tops and kneads it

#alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #lucifer x reader #hazbin #fluff #fem reader #male reader

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hollowed-theory-hall · 3 months

Text

The Weasleys Aren't Great Parents...

I know a lot here love to talk about how the Weasleys were so good to take Harry in and all that... But the truth is, the parenting skills of Molly and Arthur Weasley are questionable at best.

I'm not saying they don't love their kids and Harry — they do, and they do so honestly. I'm just here to say they aren't actually a good example of parenting.

Like, when fans talk about the Weasleys what I usually see is either treating them like they are a perfect example of a family or unfair bashing. So, while I definitely believe that Mr. and Mrs. Weasley love their kids, this post showcases where their parenting skills are lacking...

So, the Weasleys, to Harry, seem like the perfect example of a happy, loving family. Now, I'm not saying there isn't love there, but the family dynamics we see aren't great, to put it lightly. Harry just has no reference for anything better.

Children Running Away

The first thing I want to mention here is that all Weasley children leave the Burrow and their parents the first chance they get.

Bill goes to work for Gringotts in Egypt.

Charlie goes to tame dragons in Romania.

Percy, well, Percy is a whole can of worms right there. But once his parents shun him for being more successful than his father in the ministry, he doesn't look back.

Fred and George leave Hogwarts in the middle of their seventh year and move out of home then, before their even done with school.

I don't think that's normal. This is what we see in houses where there is mistreatment of children, so they don't want to stay any moment longer than necessary. Because all of this, what all of them did, was running away from home.

Each of these Weasleys was seventeen — maybe eighteen when he chose to leave (sometimes the country). This is running away, even if they still talk to their parents, they did rub away from living under the same roof.

This already suggests to me something unhealthy is going on there.

favoritism

Any child psychologist would tell you one of the worst things a parent could do is pick favorites amongst their children. All children, favored or not, suffer from it.

And Mr. And Mrs. Weasley.... well, they showcase favoritism constantly, here is an example from Order of the Phoenix:

“Get him red and gold to match his badge,” said George, smirking. “Match his what?” said Mrs. Weasley absently, rolling up a pair of maroon socks and placing them on Ron’s pile. “His badge,” said Fred, with the air of getting the worst over quickly. “His lovely shiny new prefect’s badge.” Fred’s words took a moment to penetrate Mrs. Weasley’s preoccupation about pajamas. “His . . . but . . . Ron, you’re not. . . ?” Ron held up his badge. Mrs. Weasley let out a shriek just like Hermione’s. “I don’t believe it! I don’t believe it! Oh, Ron, how wonderful! A prefect! That’s everyone in the family!” “What are Fred and I, next-door neighbors?” said George indignantly, as his mother pushed him aside and flung her arms around her youngest son.

(Order of the Pheonix, page 163)

Molly is so glad to have prefects in the family, that she actually ignores the fact Fred and George aren't prefects and are her kids. George actually calls her out on it, except she isn't actually listening to him l. No, she pushes him aside. This treatment is insane, and I don't blame them for up and leaving the moment they turned seventeen.

This favoritism is seen more, this is from Chamber of Secrets:

“Sorry, Mum, but see, we had to —” All three of Mrs. Weasley’s sons were taller than she was, but they cowered as her rage broke over them. “Beds empty! No note! Car gone — could have crashed — out of my mind with worry — did you care? — never, as long as I’ve lived — you wait until your father gets home, we never had trouble like this from Bill or Charlie or Percy —” “Perfect Percy,” muttered Fred. “YOU COULD DO WITH TAKING A LEAF OUT OF PERCY’S BOOK!” yelled Mrs. Weasley, prodding a finger in Fred’s chest. “You could have died, you could have been seen, you could have lost your father his job —” It seemed to go on for hours. Mrs. Weasley had shouted herself hoarse before she turned on Harry, who backed away. “I’m very pleased to see you, Harry, dear,” she said. “Come in and have some breakfast.”

(Chamber of Secrets, page 38)

Prefect Percy is better than Fred and George and they should learn from him and be more like him, according to Mrs. Weasley. This sort of comparison between children is really harmful to their development and is frowned upon by most. Definitely by me.

Not to mention how Harry is definitely a favorite of hers, so much so he does not get shouted at for the same crime, but get's food. That is honestly the bare minimum she can do for him considering...

Harry's Abuse

The Weasleys are aware of Harry's abuse. They are made aware of it time and time again, and with all their love for Harry — they do nothing more than give him food when he asks. I don't think I need to explain why this is terrible.

“I don’t blame you, dear,” she assured Harry, tipping eight or nine sausages onto his plate. “Arthur and I have been worried about you, too. Just last night we were saying we’d come and get you ourselves if you hadn’t written back to Ron by Friday. But really” (she was now adding three fried eggs to his plate), “flying an illegal car halfway across the country — anyone could have seen you —” She flicked her wand casually at the dishes in the sink, which began to clean themselves, clinking gently in the background. “It was cloudy, Mum!” said Fred. “You keep your mouth closed while you’re eating!” Mrs. Weasley snapped.“They were starving him, Mum!” said George. “And you!” said Mrs. Weasley, but it was with a slightly softened expression that she started cutting Harry bread and buttering it for him.

(Chamber of Secrets, page 39)

George here outright tells her Harry was being starved — this goes ignored. When Harry writes to her to send him food, she sends it, but doesn't ask him why he isn't being fed:

She had no idea that Harry was not following the diet at all. The moment he had got wind of the fact that he was expected to survive the summer on carrot sticks, Harry had sent Hedwig to his friends with pleas for help … Hagrid, the Hogwarts gamekeeper, had obliged with a sack full of his own homemade rock cakes. (Harry hadn’t touched these; he had had too much experience of Hagrid’s cooking.) Mrs. Weasley, however, had sent the family owl, Errol, with an enormous fruitcake and assorted meat pies.

(Goblet of Fire, page 28)

No, she sent him food but didn't bother doing anything to help a child out of a clearly abusive situation. Not even asking why he isn't getting enough food.

Arthur Weasley isn't any better. He knows just as much as Molly and even met Harry's pleasant relatives:

“Harry said good-bye to you,” he said. “Didn’t you hear him?” “It doesn’t matter,” Harry muttered to Mr. Weasley. “Honestly, I don’t care.” Mr. Weasley did not remove his hand from Harry’s shoulder. “You aren’t going to see your nephew till next summer,” he said to Uncle Vernon in mild indignation. “Surely you’re going to say good-bye?”

(Goblet of Fire, page 48)

He acts as if the Dursleys are normal. As if a child saying their caretakers wouldn't care he wasn't there isn't cause for alarm. No, Arthur Weasley just thought it impolite and odd, but not enough to actually do something to help Harry. Just annoy Uncle Vernon.

Blaming Kids For Things Not Their Fault

“You?” she said, catching her teacup as it scampered happily away across the desk on four sturdy little willow-patterned legs and replacing it in front of her. “Why should I be worried about you?” “When Mum’s next letter finally gets through Umbridge’s screening process,” said Ron bitterly, now holding his cup up while its frail legs tried feebly to support its weight, “I’m going to be in deep trouble. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s sent a Howler again.” “But —” “It’ll be my fault Fred and George left, you wait,” said Ron darkly. “She’ll say I should’ve stopped them leaving, I should’ve grabbed the ends of their brooms and hung on or something. . . . Yeah, it’ll be all my fault. . . .”

(Order of the Pheonix, page 679)

After Fred and George leave Hogwarts, Ron tells Hermione she should worry about him because he would suffer their mother's ire. He speaks about it as if it's a regular occurrence. Like he regularly gets blamed for Feed and George's mishaps when the twins aren't there.

This is incredibly unfair to Ron, Fred, and George. There is no reason Ron should fear his parent's response for something he had no control over.

Conclusions

As I stated above, I don't think Arthur and Molly Weasley are abusive or neglectful or that they don't love their kids. They are far from perfect, loving, and dotting parents I see them sometimes portrayed as. Neither are they as awful as I sometimes see them. Like many characters in this series, they are more complex than that.

#harry potter #harry potter theory #harry potter thoughts #hollowedtheory #hp theory #overthinking #wizarding world #harry potter analysis #molly weasley #arthur weasley #the weasleys #the weasly twins #fred weasley #george weasley #ron weasley #percy weasley

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justkending · 9 months

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It's just a hobby. (Drabble)

Summary: You took up a new hobby, and Dean likes to poke and tease you for it, but you feel the need to seek a little revenge for the constant joking.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 3300+

A/N: I started this during the summer when I started five different crocheting projects (ADHD carried my summer hobbies) and decided to finish it before school started back up. I am currently still writing Found Memories, but I have to put a pause on it as the first month of school tends to take a lot of my time away from hobbies like writing… I’m moving to teach 8th-grade English this year and could use all the energy you’re all willing to send my way! Anyway, I hope you enjoy this short story, and I’m happy to have the inspiration to write for Dean again :)

(Also, this is the closest to smut I think I've ever written...)

_______

“Seriously?” Dean grumbled as he looked in the rearview mirror seeing me pulling yarn to untangle a knot I had created.

Knowing where he was going with his normal banter, I just laughed and continued to focus on the craft in front of me.

“I pulled this out like 20 minutes ago. How are you just now noticing?”

“I’m watching the road,” he argued, and I rolled my eyes. As always, he had been sneaking glances to the back of the cab at me every other minute. “The hunt wasn’t even 40 minutes away from the bunker. Why did you bring that?”

“Why do you listen to the same three Led Zeppelin songs when you're upset about a hunt?” I countered, and he opened his mouth to disagree, but I answered for him to skip the sarcastic conversation brewing. “Comfort Dean. It’s all about comfort.”

“Why are you so weirded out by a normal hobby?” Sam jumped in, smirking, and sporting one of the many beanies I had made him with said hobby, which he had come to love. He looked down at a newspaper in his lap, no doubt already scoping out a new hunt.

“It’s not-” Dean stumbled on his answer. “I’m not weirded out by it. It’s just not a hobby I imagine someone like Y/N taking up.”

“You just described why you’re weirded out by it,” Sam looked at him with a blank stare.

He ignored him and rolled his eyes.

“What kind of people do you imagine the crocheting community to be full of?” I smiled, still looking down at my hands and knowing his answer already.

“Grandmas,” he replied almost immediately.

“Hmm,” I hummed as if surprised by his confession, even if it was wrong. “Well, if that’s the case, I’ll stop wasting my talents on things for you.”

I could see his eyes shoot up in the mirror and a look of regret ghost over his green orbs.

Dean liked to make a big deal about this particular hobby I had started up a little over six months ago. I think a part of him just liked to tease me about it, but deep down, I knew he was proud of my growth. He was just bad at voicing it.

The first things I ever crocheted were just simple squares in different stitch work to learn a variety of them better. Those squares became washcloths and, surprisingly, were still used daily in the kitchen.

I learned to make bags, socks, hats, sweaters, stuffed animals, and even a few blankets.

“Just 30 minutes ago, you took down five security guards, wrestled three teenage vampires, and booby-trapped half of his nest. Now you’re crocheting a sweater for Charlie that says, ‘What’s up bitches?’ in the backseat. Mind you, with blood still smeared on your face,” he raised an eyebrow at me in the mirror.

I looked up and leaned toward the front to get a better look at myself.

“Oh, shit, I thought I got it all,” I groaned, seeing a smear on the side of my face I must have missed.

“It doesn’t add up,” he shook his head, but I could see a joking smile on his lips.

“Much to your surprise Dean, girls can have more than one personality trait. I know you boys are all, ‘Ugh, monsters! Kill, kill, kill! I need a scotch in my hand and The God Father playing on loop in the background to show how manly I-’

“Hey,” Sam cut me off and looked at me with his sad puppy dog eyes. “I’m on your side.”

“You’re right… You also like to read and share fun facts,” I winked, touseling his hair and getting a scoff of a laugh as he swatted my hand away. “See how hurtful it can be when you forget our brains have the capacity to do more than one thing?” I turned back to Dean with my arms crossed on the bench seat in front of me.

“I don’t think you're incapable of having more than one interest in life; I just think it’s interesting that you chose a 90-year-old women's side gig as your hobby,” Dean countered, pulling into the garage.

“Well, if you can’t appreciate it, then you can’t have the gifts my hard work creates,” I huffed, gathering my things and sliding back to the door as Dean parked the car.

Once the car was in park, I was the first out. I wasn’t actually mad at him, I was a hundred percent messing with him, but he deserved it for teasing me this long about it when I knew he loved everything I had made him this far.

He had a favorite blanket that he preferred to sleep with now. He had a nice sweater he wore around the bunker when he was cold. He had a few pairs of socks he preferred over store-bought ones. He even had a miniature plush Batman figurine that sat on his desk that I had learned to crochet just for him.

“Y/N, you don’t mean that!” he called after me, standing in the door on the driver's side of the Impala and shouting over the roof of it where I was walking inside.

“We'll find out soon,” I yelled back, never turning around.

The next three days, I teased him like he had me about this whole ordeal, but in my own way.

When we were cooking in the kitchen or doing dishes, if he grabbed one of the squares that now acted as our kitchen hand towels, I would steal it from his hands and say, “Sorry, merchandise can only be used by those who value it.”

With which he would respond, “Wait! I need that!” with his hands drenched in water after washing his hands.

Just for extra measure, I took all the towels and moved them to a new place only Sam and I knew. He was happy to join in on my little prank, and every time he had one, he made sure Dean saw him with it.

“Where did you get that?” Dean would jump up from wherever he was and march over to him to try and steal it.

“Only the VIP customers have access to these,” Sam would wave it above his head out of reach of Dean.

Another time, after a hunt, it was freezing in our motel room, where the heater barely worked, and the hotel didn't have enough blankets. Luckily I had one packed in the trunk of Baby, and I used it for extra coverage.

Even though Dean and I shared a bed, I wrapped it around me as I slept and said, “Sucks that you hate this so much, or else I’d share with you…”

He stared at me with complete annoyance when I gave him an exaggerated “Oh well” face before stealing it all for myself.

I did, however, wake up to sharing it, but only because he had stolen it, and I was too tired to fight him about it.

I think one of my favorite times I rebuked him of his privileges was when he was wearing a pair of socks I had made him for Christmas around the house. I may have gotten a little more intense than I needed to, but the look on his face made it worth it.

He had come into the movie room to binge a few episodes of a new series I got him hooked on, and after he called me in to watch with him, I noticed the specific socks he had on.

I grinned once my brain had formulated a plan to make him regret ever giving me hell for a hobby he obviously loved himself.

“Claire said there was a show called Love Island we should watch. I have no clue what it’s about, but she said it was popular and what the kids are watching now,” Dean conversed as he grabbed the remote from the table and stood with a blanket (not one of mine, as I had relocated all of them so he couldn’t find them) around his shoulders.

He was in the perfect position for my plan.

I walked over and, instead of facing the TV, stood right in front of him and looked up at him.

“You know what we could do?” I whispered in a low and sultry voice, bringing my hand up to his chest and inching my fingers up to the collar of his t-shirt before pulling at it gently. His eyes instantly darkened, and he was frozen in his place.

“Wh-What, uh, what can we do?” he stammered out. Even after three years of dating, he still got nervous. I loved it.

“I think you know what,” I said, tiptoeing upward to quietly say in his ear, bringing my hand from his chest to the back of his neck, softly pulling him closer to me.

“I think I have an idea,” he replied more confidently, immediately bringing his free hand to my waist and squeezing it.

I could have faltered there, but I held strong. I was going to make him pay for all his little ‘grandma’ jokes he had sent my way the last few months.

I pulled back, sending him a smirk that I knew revved him up. He returned it with his own and started leaning down, forgetting his grip on the blanket and remote. Now both of his hands sat on my hips with a stronghold.

Before he could lean down any further, I pushed him backward harshly on the couch, and at first, he was shocked, then he was excited.

Slouched into the cushion, looking up at me, his tongue came out to lick his lips and ended with a bite to his lower lip as he eyed me up and down as I stood over him.

“Dear God, Y/N,” he hummed under his breath.

I guess it helped that I was wearing some of my shorter PJ shorts, ones he had told me were his favorites, and a shirt that was cropped and slightly falling off my shoulder.

He had a thing for me being in a disheveled manner like this. Reminded him of how I looked after we fucked around, and he held pride knowing he played a part in the kind of glow I gave off.

I wasn’t sure how long I could do this without failing myself on the original mission. I came here to fuck with him, and now he was the fucker. Or at least he was going to be if I didn’t follow through with my plan in the next minute.

“You know, you should be happy you were by the couch,” I smiled, stepping to him and strategically bringing my legs to straddle his hips teasingly.

His breath hitched at that, and I knew I had regained the upper hand.

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” he hummed as he admired my hands pressing into his chest as I leaned in, bringing myself closer to him.

“I was about to take you wherever I found you,” I whispered, looking him dead in the eyes with a soft smile. I looked him up and down and bit the inside of my cheek. That seemed to trigger his hands back to my hips instantly. This time a much more possessive lock on them.

“I don’t know where this is coming from, but I can’t complain,” he said lowly, and I knew he was hooked. Now it was time for revenge.

“Can I ask you a question?” I hummed, running my finger lightly over his hair down to his jaw, using the tip of it to push his chin up so I could see his eyes better.

“Please,” he buzzed, drunk with lust.

“Hmm,” I hummed, smiling more, dropping my gaze to his lips, then back at his eyes where he was drowning in dopamine by our current position. “Those socks you have on?” He didn’t catch on immediately and just furrowed his eyes as he processed what I asked. “They look familiar.”

I leaned back from my seat, still straddling his hips, but not with nearly as much pressure as before.

“What-” Dean started, but it dawned on him mid-thought. His eyes went from ready to tear my clothes off to annoyed realization. “Seriously.”

“What?” I feigned ignorance and stood up, repositioning myself between his legs, both hands on his knees as I looked at him and leaned over.

He couldn’t tell which way this was going for him, and that was the point. I was still winning this little game.

I eased myself lower, squatting with my knees going into the couch and in between his thighs. My hands went flat on his knees and slowly started working up his thighs.

“I can’t tell what you’re doing here, Y/N,” he said in a breathy voice. I watched as he tried to control himself, looking up away from me but not being able to help react to my hands on him.

“I’m not doing anything,” I said in a voice that made him lower his nervous wandering eyes back to me. The amount of green in his eyes disappeared slowly.

“You’re teasing me,” he said shortly as if he was worried his voice would tremble if he didn’t get it out quickly.

“Maybe, maybe not,” I shrugged with a pursed lip before bringing my hands slowly back down his legs.

“You’re mad at me,” he stuttered the last word when my hands worked their way back up, but further up than before.

“Now, why would you think that?” I tutted, shaking my head with an exaggerated look of hurt.

All he could do was take a slow, deep breath in as I tilted my head and smiled devilishly at him.

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t play innocent.”

I grinned.

“You and I both know I’m far from that…” My tone was darker than before but in a seductive and tempting manner.

He couldn’t hold back anymore. He shot up from his slouched position and leaned forward, grabbing my forearms in his hands and pulling me up in his lap with his nose mere inches from my own.

“If your goal was to make me suffer, you won,” he whispered so quietly; if I wasn't this close, I wouldn't have heard it. He tilted his head up just enough for our noses to brush before pulling back.

“Keep it together, girl… Keep it fucking together,” I repeated in my head.

“Did I? Or am I just getting started?” I snarked, and that caused the new grip on my thigh to tighten, and I almost groaned at the pressure.

“Don’t start a war you can’t win,” he smirked, feeling as though he possessed the power.

Two can play that game.

I smiled, bringing my free hand up and tracing it behind his ear before wrapping it slowly around the back of his neck. I brought his face closer to mine but stopped right when I could feel the brush of his lips.

Our chests were pressed into each other, and I could feel his heart rate pick up. Perfect.

I nudged our noses again and smiled as his eyes closed, and he naturally and lazily chased my lips.

I rocked my hips in a measured manner, placed perfectly in the middle of his lap, and he sucked in a breath at the friction.

“Women don’t start wars. They finish them,” I whispered before promptly standing up and, in a swift motion, yanking the socks he had on off and walking to the exit.

“Y/N!” I could hear his shout from the couch from where I knew he was with a full hard-on, unable to move just yet.

“This granny is going to bed!” I shouted, speed-walking to my room in case he decided to run after me.

“You little-!” the shout still seemed far behind me, and I quickly shut my bedroom door and locked it.

Thankfully, I think I left him incapacitated for a second, and he didn’t follow me immediately.

I actually didn’t hear from him for the rest of the night. I hoped I didn’t upset him, but also, the whole reason I had done what I had was because he had become a little ass about my favorite hobby. I don’t mind the jokes, but after a while, you want a pat on the back for learning something new. Especially from someone you care about.

I went ahead and did my normal nighttime routine and got into bed before I started to read a book. I must have dozed off while reading because I woke up to the lights out, my book on the end table, and Dean crawling into the other side of the bed.

Before I could say anything, his arms came around my waist, and he pulled me to his core. He was in his boxers and one of his soft t-shirts I made him wear to bed.

For the record, I was perfectly fine with him in no shirt (or pants, for that matter), but when he did wear a shirt, I made him put on a certain kind cause his band and certain graphic tee ones were itchy on me when we cuddled.

He took a deep sigh and nuzzled his face into the crevice between my neck and shoulder, one of his favorite places.

“Why’d you lock your door?” he asked, already knowing I had woken up.

He had definitely picked the lock.

“I thought you were going to hunt me down, and I forgot to unlock it,” I replied sleepily.

There was silence for a minute, and eventually, he spoke up, whispering in my ear his apology.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why?” I sighed with a winning grin he couldn't see, knowing why but playing coy anyway.

“I’m sorry I haven’t told you how much I appreciate your brain,” he answered.

That was not what I expected, but I was intrigued.

“Hmmm,” I smiled, moving my hands to his that were wrapped around my ribs and nuzzling my backside closer to him. “Don’t stop now; you’re on a roll.”

He laughed and invited my attempt to fit into him like a puzzle piece.

“You’re ambitious with everything you want to learn to do, and I don’t tell you enough how much of a turn-on that is,” he hummed, rubbing his head into mine and peppering a kiss on my neck here and there. “And I know you know how much I love the skills you gain, but sometimes I’m bad about just saying how impressive you are to me.”

“You like my crocheting skills, Winchester,” I chuckled, turning my body to face him now and throwing one of my legs over his hips, pulling back in some. “Just say it.”

“I love your crocheting skills,” he replied with a wide grin and brought a hand up to move the stray hairs that fell on my face. “I love your baking and cooking. I love your impressive TV show-binging skills. I love the random facts you have stored in that beautiful brain of yours. I love your surprisingly nerdy side of Marvel and superheroes. I love your attempt at being a gardener.”

“Hey, I have three plants that are thriving right now!” I argued, poking a finger in his chest, which he grabbed and kissed the tip of.

“I love everything you’re passionate about,” he finished off. “I don’t tell you enough, and sometimes I like to see that face you give me when I tease you.” I gave him a look. “Maybe more than sometimes… But! I do love all those things and more about you, Y/N.”

“I don’t doubt it,” I replied, scooting in closer. “But it is nice to hear it from those captivating lips of yours.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

We started smiling at each other, and I couldn’t help but feel a little guilty about earlier.

“I’m sorry I teased you,” I sighed, moving to where I was embedded in his chest, and he wrapped himself back around me.

“Don’t be. I deserved it,” he replied, chin on my head before he bent down and kissed the top of it. “I will say, though, I’ve never been mad about seeing that side of you.”

“What side?” I looked up at him.

“Don’t act like you didn’t know what you were doing,” he chuckled, pulling my head back to him.

“Yeah, you’re right,” I agreed after a minute. “Hey.”

“Hm?”

“You’re my favorite person. You know that, right?”

“Feelings are very much mutual,” he answered, caressing a hand up and down my back.

“Good. I’d have to kill you with one of my knitting needles if you said otherwise. Who said needleworking wasn’t dangerous, right?”

My Lovelies Forever:

@natura1phenomenon @lauravicente @kakakatey @traceyaudette @notyourtypicalrose @laneygthememequeen @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @sandlee44 @thorne93 @thefaithfulwriter @marvelfansworld @essie1876 @greyeyedsmile14 @capsiclehan @xostephanie @averyrogers83 @awesomenursingstudent @gh0stgurl @cs-please @carls1022 @jjlevin @rainbowkisses31 @carls1022 @anise-d-castle6 @deannotmoose @their-bibliophile @kitkatd7 @willowbleedsonpaper @mariaenchanted @snffbeebee @couldabeenamermaid @rebekahdawkins @alyispunk @drakelover78 @caruhleener

Supernatural Tags:

@flamencodiva @hobby27 @sucker-for-dean @deans-baby-momma @squirrelgirl67 @death-unbecomes-you @snffbeebee @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @spnbaby-67 @akshi8278 @musiclovinchic93 @vicmc624 @carryon-doctor-lock @perpetualabsurdity @herscrunchiehairtie @spnwoman @shamelesslydean @monkeymcpoopoo @winchestergirl82 @luciathewinchestergirl @deansyahtzee @thatgirl1456 @sucker-for-dean @atomicloverdonkeyperson @screechingartisancashbailiff @akshi8278 @supernatural3002

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x reader drabble #dean winchester drabble #justkending #spn fanfic #dean winchester spn #dean winchester x you #spn dean winchester #drabble #spn drabble

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ang3lofdivinity · 1 month

Text

༘⋆𓍢ִ໋🌷 𝙵𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚍𝚊𝚢

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

Relationship(s): Charlie Morningstar + Vaggie (romantic), kinda Yan!Alastor + Fallen Angel!Marionette!(implied)fem!Reader (platonic or romantic, whatever you want), slight Husk + Angel dust

Genre: Fluff :))

Warnings/notes: Spoilers(?) For Hazbin hotel, reader is able to make plants and stuff, reader is decently human and fought in war, they fell from heaven too, Emily sees the reader as a “mother” figure, death mentions, Alastor being alastor, Angel being himself as always, Alastor has been made.. somewhat yandere, Drugs and other hell stuff mentioned, ooc? Suggestive content (mostly from Angel), Cannibalism, toxic dependency, SWEARINGGGG

Format: Long/Short stories + Headcanons

A/N: GOD. SCHOOL SUCKKSKSKSKSKKSKS. Sorry i’ve been gone for a bit again- sickness is very much not fun. Anyways, here’s an late Valentines present for you all featuring our favorite deer demon! :)) - Also, you can just see Niffty and Charlie calling you a female (if you aren’t) an accident on their perception— HUGGEEEE inspo taken for an idea/convo in this from @/princekeerys :))

Reminder: YOU are responsible for your content consumption!

There’s a reason why you’re here now.

Everyone is.

Perhaps heaven made a mistake when they first allowed you to enter heaven after your death, allowed you to live amongst angels and other pure beings whom had never done a single horrible act in their lives- or well, since their creation.

The morals that they purveyed were so.. impeccable, granular too.

Everything here was having a pernicious effect on you, these individuals were so much better than you. They didn’t take the life away from others without a second thought. They didn’t grow up to become a weapon. They didn’t feel wrong for the things they did in their lives or just in the past-

They weren’t like you. A monster.

It’s basically an antithesis. Between you, and the ‘winners’.

But you tried your best to fit in. And it worked.. for the most part..

You decided to pick up working as a gardener and freelance artist, which was.. quite fun. You felt genuinely happy after so long where you have been deprived of it, not allowed it, and not given it before. You actually managed to make it to a high ranking position, The Head Archangel.

“(____)?” A feminine voice speaks up from behind you, it’s gentle- dulcet. It’s like they’re afraid to speak up in the slightest. You pause, removing yourself from your memories. That’s right— you’re painting. You place down your brush into the cup filled with paint water as you shift around on your stool, looking at the woman.

Catherine Stockholms, that’s her name. She’s a young 18-year-old girl who died in the 1940’s due to a train going on the wrong track and crashing into the one she was riding that fateful day. Her light blonde hair, cut short and curly in the back, frames her face with the side parts gracefully reaching just at her shoulders, slightly longer than the back. Her hair is adorned with a dark purple headband featuring a bow. She has pale yellow eyes which are nervously looking around, hugging herself.

She wears a white collared shirt with sleeves that extend slightly above her chest, ending in a square-like shape near the shoulders and neck. Layered over the shirt is a charming dark purple dress that falls to her knees, boasting puffy sleeves and a skirt that puffs out, followed with a nonchalantly worn black coat from her era with some intricate details of flowers vines on it. Her attire is completed with white socks adorned with lace and simple black mary janes.

“Good evening, Catherine.” You say with all of the warmth you can, smiling as you tilt your head to the side.

“Is there something I can do for you?” Tone quizzical as you ask your question, causing Catherine to tense.

She stayed silent for a good few seconds before she answered your question.

“..(____)” She started as her eyes nervously darted around the room.

“You’re being taken to.. the Angelic Court.”

Eyes widened, your mouth went agape as your breath hitched. No.. no way. What have you done?..

“May.. I ask why?..” you mutter your words, almost slurring them as you try to hold back the other words and tears threatening to spill out. You don’t think you’ve done anything wrong… unless… perhaps they figured out their judgment was incorrect—

“They haven’t told me but- they want you to arrive in an hour from now. Today.” Catherine fiddled with a piece of her hair, face painted with worry.

“..I see. Alright. Thank you for letting me know.”

Catherine simply nodded before heading off, leaving you all alone with your thoughts as they raced. Causing you to slowly stand up and start pacing around, hugging yourself. No. Nonononono, please don’t do this now. Not now.

Why does this have to happen now? But hey, at least they could correct their judgment. You would no longer be in a place where you did not deserve to be in from the start ever since you died so many years ago.

Your eyes drifted off to your violin, custom made just for you. Flowers all over, intricate details engraved into the instrument as you stride on over to it within the corner of the room, picking it up. A shaky escaped your lips as you tried your best to keep a cool-head, fingers coiled around the fretted neck of the instrument while the other went to circular body’s strings.

Not playing anything as you simply just tried to remember the good moments as you played it, the times where you made flora flourish and beauteous. Dying plants now brought back to life due to your abilities, that made you feel like something- it gave you a purpose. Something you needed to live.

..God, you hope this is all a fever dream.

You’ve heard how Hell is dirty, filled with disgusting freaks who didn’t deserve the true salvation of Heaven.

But perhaps you should be down there, after all, you killed so many..

Yes… you deserve to be burning with all of those same sinners.

. . .

“(____).” Sera loudly speaks, her voice firm as she looks down upon you. You’re in the supreme courtroom of Heaven and the operating place of the Heavenly Court. The courthouse is quiet, however there are the occasional whispers between the angels as they look down at you in shame, anger, or sympathy.

You try to control your tears as you dip your head down low, gripping your upper-arm as you dig your nails into the flesh of your skin.

“Yes, Madame?” You pathetically utter out as you tried to relax yourself with the thought of you being able to stay here. But either way, it would still be a harsh situation..

Doubt gnaws at your soul, questioning whether you truly belong among the pure and righteous. The fear of being exposed as a true sinner, unworthy of such divine tranquility, consumes your thoughts.

Yet, as you contemplate the alternative, the prospect of hell sends shivers down your spine. The thought of being surrounded by vile beings, perverse and wicked, fills you with revulsion. The idea of enduring torment alongside the depraved and despicable is a horrifying prospect.

“We have found that you are…” The Seraphim pauses for a moment before she continues.

And you almost fall to your knees.

“Guilty, of the sin of Pride.”

"I understand, Madame," you spoke softly as your heart weighed heavy as you watched the angelic court dismiss and the whispers among the decision grew. Guards surrounded you, all with perfect posture as they motioned for you to follow them as hands were put in cuffs.

You simply nodded and you were escorted towards the pearly gates. Your gaze was avoiding everyones as you bit your bottom lip, trying to suppress everything you felt in the moment like you had for years. You’ll remember the feeling of the soft clouds beneath your feet as you walked through these gates the first time, truly a beautiful feeling.

Emily, the second seraphim, slowly walked over to you with her head lowered. She stood there for a moment as she stared at you while the guards stopped in their tracks, waiting for Emily to say or do something. She was the first person you looked at directly, and just looking at your despair-ridden face.. She just collapsed into your arms, emotion crashing over her as she couldn’t even utter anything besides sobs.

"There is no need to cry, dear. It'll be alright," you comforted the best you could, a smile plastering itself on your lips as you awkwardly managed to slightly hug her back. Emily took a deep breath, hiccuping as she handed over your violin.

"I love you.." Emily mumbled through tears. With nods of farewell from the angels, you were whisked away once more, now standing tall at the heavenly gates.

"Goodbye, dearest friend," Sera's voice trembled as tears welled up in her eyes.

"I will miss you too, Madame," You replied with a nod, before you stood near the edge of the giant fluffy cloud that held you up, along with the entire of Heaven. Near the edge, handcuffs forcing your hands to remain behind you just in case before you fell backwards.

You plummet down, it is that of beauty intertwined with tragedy. It looks like a falling star. The descent feels inevitable, as if you're being drawn inexorably into a hellish abyss. Doubt creeps in: do you truly deserve this fate? But nevertheless, you are destined to crash into the unknown location below, a city.

..city?

Yes, Pentagram City.

The sky is overcome with a red sky- dark to light, a sun far too bright, no wait. That’s where the angels come down here for the extermination. The city is separated into different sections, as far as you can tell, 7 of them. 7 deadly sins.

You wonder if Lucifer is still here. Alive.

Well… he has to be!

Nevertheless, as you crash with a loud smash of nearby items and such, you can’t find the energy to get up. Your once purely white wings, fluffy and all now covered in dirt along with whatever feculent things from beneath you and with a slight ash gray hue. It feels like you’ve broken something in your body, or maybe multiple things as your once glowing halo that hovers above your head lowers- slightly cracking.

Who knew it could do that.

Taking a guess, you’re probably in the pride ring. What did you even do that was so prideful?…

Although struggling a bit, you manage to lift your head up and survey around.

These.. demons have their businesses in these places, where it seems like they’re allowed to sell everything from cigarettes to drugs. How unholy…

There is a Clock Tower located in the city that seems to be glimmering with a gold shine, which serves as a counter for the 365 days that pass until the Exorcists return for the next Extermination. Yes, you know about the extermination, you once heard Lieutenant Lute speaking of it before to Adam.

Are you to be killed like the rest of these filthy creatures? Criminals, drug dealers?

You don’t wanna get up. Scratch that, you can’t. Your body won’t allow you to do anything besides breathe. This hurts, it hurts so bad, why does this have to happen to you—

Writhing around for a moment, you manage to utter out some words to yourself;

“Am I.. really allowed to live?”

“Just keep living.”

“But am I allowed? Why.. why must this happen to me, they should’ve just sent me here in the first place.”

“(____), stop. Please. Live, even after all of these horrible acts.”

“But-“

“No. No, I will not have any refutes here, (____). Live, for all of us.”

“..Yes, sir.”

You stumble upwards on your feet, managing with a motion of your hand to put your violin in the safe inter-dimensional pocket dimension, just for you to place all of your items into it, safely. The feeling of your wings heavy behind you as you come to find you’re in a hidden alleyway, filled with cigarettes, condoms— filthy sinners.

Fighting the urge to cry, you intake a sharp breath. An angel would not cry over this. But it doesn’t really work.

But you’re alone, you have no idea about anything in this place of what it’s like, how the people are, you can only imagine all the terrible things they’ve done to be punished and sent down here of all places. Hell is just the definition of unholy, it’s the exact opposite of heaven. The only thing going through your head is to cry, scream, try to get heaven to take you back and get out of this horrible place.

But then again, don’t you deserve this?

You don’t know anymore.

It’s all hurting your head.

It hurts to think about, and the tears which have now started slowly pouring down your cheeks sting.

It didn’t work.

This is pathetic.

Your body reacts before you can do anything else, running in some random direction. You can just feel the millions of eyes staring you down like predators carefully marking down their prey, burning through you. It doesn’t feel safe here, it’s hell after all.

The trial had to have been all a lie, fabricated with evidence that was made up. You haven’t done anything prideful, nor lustful, not even envious or any of those other sins that ended mortal souls or other angels whom were truly guilty of the crime. But you— no, you weren’t them. You aren’t guilty.

Someone must’ve made something up!

That trial was unfair, arbitrary, unjustifiable.

Tears spill as you’re too busy with your thoughts and your legs almost fail on you a few times due to it, well, it does happen when you just can’t do it anymore. Hugging yourself pathetically as you fail to notice how luminescent, thin yet strong strings are tightly wrapped around your ankles, neck, hips, and arms. Yes, hell uses some of the worst things you feared or hated in life, and it’s using the idea of a marionette for you. These strings really won’t do much, but they’re not entirely safe. They just make things.. difficult.

That’s unfortunate..

Just another soon to be hindrance.

“…..’lo??”

Someone’s speaking, but the ringing drumming through your ears is so loud, it’s hard to hear them—

“Hello?..” A feminine voice tries to capture your attention, even going as far as to snap her fingers in front of your face. Your head immediately raises to stare up at her, as she looks panicked.

“Sorry- so sorry! You just..” She stuttered out an apology, but you weakly waved your hand.

“..No worries. It’s okay.” The woman in front of you looks relieved as a sigh escapes past her lips.

The woman is very tall, and slender. She has pale white skin, her cheeks a rosy red that compliment her red eyes. She has long, blonde hair, mixed with a lighter blonde and even pink highlights, which is tied into a twice-banded low ponytail. Her blonde bangs flip to her left with a curl.

She has an untucked white, long-sleeved dress-shirt with a simple black bowtie. Over this she adorns a fitted red tuxedo jacket with pointed sleeves, dark-red lapels and a pair of red fitted dress pants. She wears black and white saddle shoes, which remind you of an older time in human history.

“I apologize- again,” she awkwardly laughs with a somewhat goofy smile on her face before leaning forward and holding out one of her hands to you, which shocks you. Aren’t demons in Hell supposed to be.. well, hellish?

“I’m Charlie! Charlie Morningstar!” As she introduces herself, you take her hand albeit hesitantly, lithe fingers wrap around your hand and she pulls you up. Her touch is gentle, although it feels like her nails are going to scrap you- they don’t. She seems.. too nice as of currently for her to hurt someone she just met.

“..Previous head Archangel, (____). It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Morningstar.” You know that last name. At least it feels like you do. As she lets go of you, you curtsy as Charlie’s cheeks heat up a bit while waving her hand dismissively at your actions.

“Same here! Um… would you mind telling me why you’re down here?..” Her tone is fearful almost as she inquires about your predicament.

“..Some fabricated trial where they found me guilty. But— I….” You halt, taking a deep breath and shaking your head.

“It’s nothing to be worried about.”

She understands before continuing to speak.

“Would you like to try and.. get back into heaven?” The blonde’s question intrigues you as you raise an eyebrow.

“I… that would be nice.” You reply almost monotonously as you lower your head, but the woman places her hands on your shoulders, causing you to tense a bit. But she doesn’t seem.. threatening, not in the way you imagined at least. So you loosen up a bit.

“Well, I think I have the solution for you, Head Archangel!”

“That would be?”

“Coming to my Hazbin Hotel to get redeemed!”

. . .

The idea was ludicrous- or well, close to that. But when you first arrived here, you weren’t expecting any of this to happen. You don’t regret coming here— too much, that is.

The hotel is tall, elaborate amalgamation of arched windows and turrets, one of which seems to be broken. It appears to be at least seven stories tall, with at least five of which being guest floors. An ocean liner, a sailing ship and a carousel litter both sides and appear to have been incorporated into the structure of the building itself; there is also a train with some tracks looping the first and second floor exterior. Located on the top right of the building is a small radio broadcasting room, used as the work area for… someone Charlie referred to as ‘Al’.

Many signs are displayed outside the hotel: One atop the entrance reminiscent of the Hazbin Hotel logo, a large pink one atop the building with the hotel's name in lights, a neon 'HOTEL' sign at the bottom right and atop the building where Al’s broadcast room is located, a small 'On-Air' sign is visible. Also located on the outer facade are various arrows pointing to the entrance and the broadcast room.

The entrance has a tented cover with a booth in the center reminiscent of a circus or theater ticket booth. In a sense, at least!

The interior however— theres wooden boards covering shattered windows, signs warning of asbestos, bloodied tools left lying around, and paintings are shown hanging off the walls. Much of the furniture in the lobby are strewn around haphazardly or remain boxed up in several large wooden crates.

The bar, why is there a bar in a place meant to discourage sin? You have no clue, uses skeletons, snakes, and bones as general themes, along with card suits and candles, and advertises itself as a casino. The area the bar in has glowing green wooden walls instead of the usual red wallpaper, given that it’s been sorta… merged with the lobby of the hotel.

Despite the shabby and poor condition of the hotel, the overall theme of the building remains ornate and regal, with stained glass windows, (semi?) lavish furniture, and generous usage of gold. Like the rest of Hell that you’ve seen so far, the hotel has a largely red color scheme.

Along with like.. almost every person here and around the place.

“Charlie?” A more deep, feminine voice calls out. You snap your head in the direction of- …Vagatha?

The silver haired woman appears to notice and remember you as well, due to her expression changing immediately.

Holy.

“Honey- please don’t attack her!!“ Charlie stammers, moving in front of you. But you gently push her aside and walk towards her.

“..Agatha?” She bites her bottom lip, giving you a look saying: l‘please.’ You know what she means by that.

“I haven’t seen you since.. well, life.” You almost trip over your words, given that you haven’t lied in about a few years or so. Despite that, she looks relieved. She gives you a small nod before looking at Charlie’s surprised expression.

“Right.”

“How.. OHHHH! Wait- you guys know each other from Earth!?” The Blonde exclaimed in absolute delight, cupping her cheeks. Vaggie quickly nodded in response, giving you a look of appreciation before walking over to Charlie who held her captive in a bear hug, babbling on about how she was so happy for the two of you.

You stared at them for a moment before bursting out into a fit of giggles. Vaggie pouted, but she really did love it. Even if it didn’t show.

You’re glad she found someone who made her happy. Even if it’s the daughter of Lucifer.

Wiping away the tears of delight from your eyes, you sigh contentedly before you started to survey around the hotel more while the two lovebird’s were being all adorable. Two figures- a black and white cat wiping down the bar, and a tall spider-like character were talking (mainly the spider one) as the cat seemed entirely done with everyone and everything.

Blinking repeatedly for a second, your head turns to the door of the hotel. You don’t know why, but you almost head towards it, you’re unsure why- but it almost feels like something is beckoning you to leave, to run out and leave this place.

But you can’t.

Why?

Simple: you don’t have anywhere else to go.

“ANOTHER WOMAN?” A voice shrieked out, causing you to recoil away and snap your head to the voice.

A smaller demon was looking up at you, a cyclops-like demon with pointed limbs, white skin and one large eye. Her eyes light yellow iris, hot-pink sclera with a yellow gradient were basically the size of atoms as she continued to stare. This is certainly awkward…

Her red-pink hair is kept into a slightly messy bob cut with swirls on each side, and a single light yellow streak located at the top. Her mouth has sharp light yellow teeth inside and black lips, and small hot-pink dots on each of the corners.

The bug-like woman wears a neckerchief around her neck, red-pink maid dress under a white apron with three hot-pink dripping splotches. She also wears long black gloves which covers most of her hands and arms, along with matching-colored tights.

“…Hello, Miss?” Choking out the words, you smile the best you can despite how tense you were.

“Nifty!!! It’s nice to meet you!” She squeals out, a large toothy grin on her face.

“Right well- Hello, Miss Nifty.” You bobbed a curtsy to the small woman who seems far too excited to be here.

“Y’know, I was kinda wishin’ you’d be a bad boy, but whatever! Anyways- this place is filthyyy so, I gotta kill more bugs to make sure they know not to come here anymore!” Niffty bounces up and down elatedly,

“Pardon?-“

“Okay, BYEEE!!” And with that, she was running off in the opposite direction.

Your breath hitches, and your body tensed. Is.. everything super fast here? Everything feels too fast for your liking.

You take a moment to breathe, trying to relax your tense body. It’ll all be okay… you just, need a moment to let everything sink in.

Striding over to a chair, you sat down and leaned your head back, making you stare at the ceiling. A sigh slips past your lips as you rest your hands in your lap. Surprisingly, the couch is.. much more softer and comfortable than you had imagined before.

“Why, another patron?” How many people are going to approach you today?

You tense, turning to the voice speaking- it sounds like that of an old radio…

A slender, darker brownish beige-skinned demon with a dapper appearance stands before you, a slightly messy, red-pink bob-styled hair with black tips and a pair of rather large, black-ended fur-tufts on top of his head which evokes the ears of a deer. On the back of his head is a brown undercut, while small black antlers protrude from the crown of his head.

Kinda cute… you admit.

The man wears a high-collared, fitted red pinstripe coat with darker-colored sleeves, strawberry-red cuffs, white-trimming on darker-red lapels, and the bottom hem being ragged. Under his coat is that of a strawberry-red dress-shirt with a black cross on the chest, and an accessorized black knotted bow tie with a strawberry-red center on the top front.

He has black gloves- are those his hands???… probably not. You hope.

Nevertheless, they have strawberry-red fingertips, black dress pants with cuffs the same color as he coat, and black heeled ankle boots with strawberry-red pointed toes, with his hands behind his back he’s holding a thin cane with a vintage styled microphone attached to it.

“..Good evening, Sir.” You say, voice drained even when you try to keep the politeness you still have left. A drowsy smile plastered its way on your face, attempting to straighten your posture. The man seems amused by your words and current situation as his smile gets ever so wider.

“Manners? My, what a rare thing to come across in Hell, mm?” He quips as he motions for you to stand up. You tilt your head in confusion as you leisurely rise up from your spot to stand up from the couch, and he approaches a bit closer before dipping down, grabbing your wrist while dipping down and kissing the back of your palm.

…

You don’t think you’ve ever blushed that much before.

A man has never done this to you before, when did this ever happen in time???? Does he just- do this whenever he meets someone new??? Why in heavens name is this attractive and why are you finding it so?????? What is going on..

It takes you a good long minute to process what just happened as the man straightens up his posture once more, letting your hand fall to your side. You can hear him laughing a bit at your flustered expression, making the blush become more apparent and darker in color.

“Now who are you, my dear?” The way he emphasized ‘my’ in his sentence was.. odd, but nevertheless: you didn’t comment on it.

“(____). It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.” You curtesy at the man in respect despite your flustered state.

His smile grew wider in amusement and satisfaction- in a way— this is certainly something.

“And, you are, sir?”

“Alastor! Quite a pleasure to be meeting you, my dear, quite a pleasure!”

. . .

Well.. this place has started growing on you.

And the people too.

Charlie by far has been the friendliest to you, trying to get you comfortable over the few months you’ve arrived here. She hasn’t forced you to do anything, only given suggestions and her ideas, asking for your opinions, etc.

But you’ve taken the role of a musician for the hotel!

She could not be more overjoyed.

Vaggie and you don’t speak too much.. but have a friendly relationship. Any chance you got, you would also ask for her opinions on the music you’ve been working on, if it sounded good enough because.. Charlie would just be a bit vague in her rating, but Vaggie could be much more blunt and straightforward.

You’re thankful for that, musically that is.

Even if it might hurt your feelings sometimes, it’s better to know your mistakes.

Husk hasn’t interacted with you much, but has decided to give you a record for you to possibly use as a reference for a song, or even play it! That.. honestly gives you a bit of a confidence boost, given that he really doesn’t reveal much of his past to anyone.

But he trusts you enough to at least give you one of his favorite records!

You’ll make him proud, no matter the cost.

Angel Dust has attempted to make an advance or two upon you, flirting with you like he does everyone, but you’re a bit too awkward for that and instead decide to invite him into your room to listen to you play.

Genuinely? He’s impressed. That façade of being the porn-star that he is fizzes away a bit as he simply stares at you while you play on one of your instruments.

He might just get more fond of you.

Niffty is.. okay!! You find her to be quite adorable like.. 90% of the time, despite her habits with bugs. You try to help her clean sometimes, but most times it doesn’t work. Though the times when it does, she thanks you a lot! And you even let her test out some of your instruments.

As long as she doesn’t break them, or ruin them in any way. To which she promises you she won’t, and you hold it to her.

She enjoys your company quite a lot, though!

Alastor now… he’s quite the character! He was the second person who persuaded you into letting him hear you play your music (with the first being Charlie despite how scared you were.) He even gave you some songs that were some of his favorites to play!!

All of them were jazz, but you didn’t mind. They weren’t too bad, after-all!

However his behavior now has… ringed bells in your head.

Made you frightened.

You decided to ask Vaggie what she knew of him, and eventually told you his story. How he had gained all of his power from those overlords and deals..

It made you unnerved. How could someone of a mortal soul kill so many people???

And despite being an angel, why is he so interested in you?

You, for one, don’t consider yourself to be very interesting. All besides for your species and musical abilities, you don’t see why..

But, you didn’t question it for so long and kept quiet.

He appeared to enjoy your presence more than others, even being as willing as to ask you if you want him to send some of his shadows to follow you around town when you went to do errands for Charlie, Vaggie, Husk, or just one of the members of the hotel.

Of course, you denied but thanked him for the offer. It’s not like it stopped him. It was only for your safety.

What if one of the Vees approached you?? Or Vox used his manipulation powers on you??? What if you got attacked??? He can’t let his new source of entertainment get harmed, or be taken away!

You weren’t some delicate flower.. but he definitely saw you like it.

He even offered you deals.

Ones for your soul.

Denying every-time, of course. You liked your freedom. The mere idea of a deal for your soul felt like every bit of freedom would be drained from you, everything taken away from you. They could do anything to you.. even kill you.

God forbid.

It scared you.

But that didn’t stop him from trying to own you.

Whenever he was listening to you play and you did a wonderful job (especially if it was one of his favorite songs or jazz in general), he would pat you on the head while merrily singing praises to you of how well you played!

It got to the point where Angel Dust even has made some.. inappropriate remarks about Alastor’s words to you. It makes you blush out of embarrassment every time, and you yelp back a response.

“Damn, toots, didn’t know you were baggin’ smiles over there. You two had-“

“NO. NOTHINGS HAPPENING BETWEEN US!”

“HE DOESN’T EVEN LIKE THAT STUFF…”

It’s infuriating at times. And you had to do it by yourself, as Alastor usually wasn’t around during those times when Angel Dust made his remarks.

..It’s.. whatever.

But it doesn’t help your case when Alastor offers you his hand for you to hold, or with his arm for you to link with, to walk around with you, walk you back to Hotel…

Most times you accepted! Back when he wasn’t so…

…Possessive.

It wasn’t bad, at first. You thought he was just being kind to you. He had manners- proper decorum. How could you dislike a person with manners, after-all!

You didn’t notice it.

But that possessiveness grew.

Almost like ancorruptive infection.

Now, it’s just straight up.. bone-chilling at times.

It’s like he was infatuated with you, trying to get you to do everything with him—

Most times you deny it now.

Still he was a persistent one.

And even got you to say yes.. a lot.

You don’t even know what even led to this behavior from him, why everything you seem to do he has an interest in already.

He’s even tried persuading you into getting a radio for yourself in order for you to listen to his radio shows! And honestly? The idea didn’t seem too bad, in your opinion. And.. this was before any of the bells started ringing in your head about his behavior, so there was really nothing bad about it! At least, to you. So, you headed out and found yourself a radio (although, you have to say it was certainly quite the adventure).

Alastor was especially pleased by this.

Yet, ever since you got it, you didn’t even feel safe in your own room anymore. Main cause of it being like a thousand eyes watching you when you were just simply trying to work on your music, sleep, draw— anything. The only time it went away is when you were going to dress yourself. Thank whatever saving you for that. But, even around the hotel- you could still feel the hairs rise up on your neck due to the sensation.

A part of you wanted to tell Charlie, or even Vaggie of your troubles. Hell, even Husk or Angel Dust about it. But, Charlie would.. more than likely blame herself a lot more, and you didn’t want her to worry her to the point of exhaustion since she was already doing so much. You don’t believe you’re close enough to Vaggie to even… tell her much, especially about a problem as banal and close to unbelievable as this. Husk could try and help, but probably would be too indifferent about the situation and your wellbeing as the two of you aren’t that close either. And, for Angel Dust… he probably wouldn’t help you as much as you wanted. Niffty? She was kinda out of the question because you really couldn’t see her taking you seriously, nor finding her around much.

So there was only one option, probably one of the worse ones: Alastor.

Honestly, you believed he would probably just laugh at you. But maybe he’d take you seriously. Maybe he wouldn’t.

God forbid, this is horrible.

Like the foolish idiot you were, you told Alastor about your worries one day.

“Mister??..” Your voice is a mere whisper as you gently knock on the door to his room. Knuckles softly hitting the wood, you recoiled your hand back and fidgeted with your fingers as you awaited for a response you more than likely weren’t going to receive. Well..

Before the door quickly opened, causing you to jerk backwards, stumbling over yourself. That’s certainly the fastest anyone has answered the door for you. He took a moment to stare down at you, surveying your expression, you suppose.

“Good evening, my dear!” His normal orotund voice speaks up with the radio-like effect still filtered over it. You nod in greeting, waiting to see if he continues on.

“Is there anything you need? You know, I could’ve been doing something terribly important!” He emphasizes ‘terribly important’, and the way he does it has you worrying now. Did you interrupt him?

“Oh— i’m sorry. I can leave and come back later. Or just,, not come back if you’re not available.” There’s silence that follows your response as you wait. Until there’s..

Laughter.

Hysterical laughter.

“No no! It’s a joke, my dear! I’m available. Come in.” He stepped off to the side, motioning for you to enter. And, you gave a nod of appreciation before approaching any further. So.. now you know that half of Alastor’s room is a bayou.

One that appears to always make it seem like its night. Fireflies flit around, their lights illuminating ever so slightly. The bayou is mainly cool colors, blues, and greens (for the trees mainly, which look reminiscent of weeping willow trees), and even a tint of purple to it, not including the light from the fireflies. The only thing making you uneasy is the fact that there’s a.. dead deer. Resting on a table. In the middle of the bayou area. And a fork is poking out from its chest, with a knife properly placed down on the side of it on the table. There’s even a few puddles around the grassy floor, and a larger lake in the back you can slightly see

For the rest of the room which is decently normal: an intricately designed fireplaces, being its sharp teeth designs, and golden colored swirls. A neon green light is shining from inside, slightly dimmed due to the darkness. Upon it there are skulls, and oddly shaped candelabras with lighted candles. On the walls are pictures within picture frames to which you really can’t depict, some tilted and others straight. Then, there’s the large buck antlers and what you can suspect to be its teeth hung proudly above the fireplace in a wooden frame. A long, red and golden trimmed carpet is spread out from near the door to a small desk off to the side, covering some of the wooden flooring.

The stag sits down in one of the red cushioned chairs next to the fireplace after having the door closed for privacy, and motions for you to sit by the one in front of the other. When you do find yourself comfortably sat in the chair, your eyes drift off to look at the rest of the room.

On a wooden bookshelf, he has… a lot of books, all of different sizes but with a similar, burgundy color. There’s also one of his signature radio’s on the top shelf, along with another on a lower one. An animal skeleton, and a golden statue that’s matched with intricate designs of swirls with a bottom compartment with what looks to be voodoo symbols for the handles. Not even mentioning the gator skeleton on the wall with little fairy lights you can suppose, there’s a small container for papers on his desk, a black and dark orange lamp, and a bottle of ink all neatly placed on it.

“So.. what is it you need from me, darling? Perhaps a deal?” Again with the deals..

“No. I just— .. you have to promise me you won’t laugh, even if you find it stupid.” Please, please, please, agree. You cannot deal with these thoughts and feelings anymore, god forbid.

“Mm… Is it that serious?”

“To me- yes. To others I might just seem.. delusional or paranoid.” Replying to his inquiry, he hums a noise of satisfaction.

“Alright. Go ahead then.”

With those words, everything you’ve been holding in ever since these sensations have started spilling out almost naturally. You tell him almost everything, how you’ve been feeling someone watching you, how you’re scared for yourself and the rest of the hotel staff if its soon going to happen to them, if anything bad is going happen to the hotel itself- or any of the residents. Being the bleeding heart you are, now?

The overlord quietly listened, grin never leaving his face as he felt so many things at once. It’s almost annoying to him why you’re like… this. The fuming hatred is something that cannot be fathomed by merely anyone, something so deep, it’s incomprehensible for him even. Someone who has murdered so many innocent people, someone who can never show his true emotions beyond that cursed smile that’s plastered on his face. He loathes you so much for simply everything you do. Isn’t that the reason he liked you for the things you did??..

But then there’s the other feeling.

It’s confusing.

Say, if you were to start… disliking him, ignoring him, avoiding him at all costs. He feels like he’d go insane. Like he needs your attention on him, or else he cannot function. And yes, he likes the attention from everyone on him, but if he lost yours- dear satan, he could actually be insane. Why do you think he’s offering you so much?? A twisted part wants him to own every little piece of you, everything about you, and he cannot deny that he likes that idea more than you could ever possibly imagine. Ripping away every little bit of innocence you have would just be delightful to him, it’s all making him have this awful feeling swirl within his chest. One that twists and tugs at his dead, tar colored heart.

He wants to rip it out.

He needs to. Perhaps then these vile feelings that you’re causing him will eventually.. wither away.

This is making him weak. Making him go soft.

And what will that do to his reputation?

“Well, my darling..” Alastor cleared his throat.

“If you would like, I suppose I can offer you a deal.”

“Alastor-“

“Not for your soul, this time. Just a simple deal between friends!”

To say this intrigued you would be an understatement.

Well now, you’ve made a deal with the devil!

Or, a devil.

He offered you his protection in the way of being by your side for most of the time, or having one of his shadow spies with you, in exchange for a favor from you later on, of his picking. And you were desperate, you didn’t even think first about negotiating the terms of your now first deal in Hell! With.. the Radio Demon!

And thankfully, not for your soul.

Oh freedom how you love it.

He’s thankful you still haven’t figured out who has been watching you all this time, who you were worried about.

Nevertheless- ever since you made that deal, you and Alastor were practically connected at the hip. But the rare times where you weren’t together, one of his shadow spies was with you! You have to admit it- they were adorable. You had to at least pet them a few times on the head while gawking at them. Of course, they squealed in delight due to the sudden display of affection shown by someone. Even when they at first, didn’t trust you, they definitely started to warm up to you now.

Charlie, Vaggie, nor any of the other residents have said anything about this so far- besides Angel Dust and his usual remarks.

..But then Husk spoke up one time.

Being at the bar, resting on a stool as you tried to unwind a little bit, and given it was quite lonely at the time- you decided to just.. simply relax for a moment in the company of probably one of the quietest people within the Hotel. It was the right opportunity for him.

“Kid.. a word of advice: don’t get too close to that asshole. He may seem all nice and charming, but he’s in Hell for a goddamn reason.”

Those words stick with you.

And with passing months, you think more deeply and deeply about your deal. And those little spies don’t seem so cute in a way anymore. And Alastor..

Maybe you’re overreacting.

“Okay, okay! So.. I have a great idea!!” Charlie merrily exclaimed as she clapped her hands together, bouncing up and down in delight. Her smile was wider than ever, and her girlfriend beside her was softly smiling with hands planted on her hips. Vaggie was so in love with that princess..

It was adorable!

Charlie had called a staff meeting to the living room, where everyone (Including Husk even) were resting on the couch or floor.

“I thought, if we wanted to get more in touch with the idea of rehabilitation, we might want to become more.. human! By getting in touch with certain, good aspects of human life!” The princess continued, surveying everyone’s expressions.

“So, me and Vaggie picked some holiday’s we could possibly celebrate here at the Hotel!” She motions to a writing board where the handwriting is rushed but, legible. Some ideas on the board are scribbled out, and 3 main ones are circled, followed bullet points displaying what each are about, what they would do, and how the Hotel would celebrate.

‘Halloween’ , ‘Valentines Day’ , ‘Christmas’

“..Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me?” Husk huffs out, grimacing.

“Language. And, seriously?? Let’s just try it.” You try and persuade the cat.

“I’m with Husk on this one, toots.” Angel adds. Your head snaps to the Spider, furrowing your brow as he simply shrugs in response.

“Don’t care for these anymore like I used to. I bet most of us even celebrated ever since getting here, including you! Whens the last time you celebrated goddamn Christmas?!” He continues on, raising an eyebrow at you.

“..When it last happened in Heaven?” The confusion in your voice had Angel looking at you in an awkward manner as he just… turned his head away from you.

“That’s even more of a reason!” Charlie exclaimed, quickly turning to her girlfriend and motioning for her to speak which led to her giving a small sigh, and a gentle smile before turning to the rest of the group with a now blank expression.

“So- we want you all to take a poll. You’ll all get a small slip of paper, and a pen. Then write down your answer. After you’re all done with that, then just slip in into the bowl.” Vaggie explained, gesturing to the bowl resting on the surface of a wooden table with a dark pink cloth draped over it.

And just as said, Vaggie and Charlie gave everyone (including themselves at the end) a small slip of paper and a pen to write with. Husk grumbled about how stupid this was, but still scribbled something down, Angel doing the same but with a huff of annoyance beforehand. Niffty had to be more excited than either of them, being the first to put her answer into the bowl. Then Charlie put hers in, then Vaggie did, then Angel and Husk (begrudgingly- that is). So there was just you, and the Radio Demon.

You didn’t know what to put down.. honestly. Biting your bottom lip, you slowly wrote something down onto the slip. Arising from your spot, you treaded over to the table and dropped the paper into the bowl.

“Pardon me, darling!” Alastor excused himself, causing you to come to the realization that he was standing right behind you. Turning on your heel, you held out your hand.

“Sorry— here, I’ll put it in for you. As… an apology? Of sorts?” You awkwardly chuckled.

“Well, aren’t you a lamb!” He laughed, placing the folded piece of paper into your palm and you turned back around and dropped it in, before heading back (being that Alastor has already went back to his seat) to your spot and sitting down.

Charlie almost jumped out of her seat, rushing on over to the table while gripping onto Vaggie’s wrist. She was practically bouncing up and down as her girlfriend first picked up the bowl, shaking it gently, before she pulled out the first slip and cleared her throat.

“First holiday of choice...”

“Christmas.” The angel stated as the princess happily clapped her hands in delight, before she was given the bowl where she shoved her hand inside of.

“Next isssss…”

“Valentine’s day!” She beamed, grinning widely. The couple went back and forth passing the bowl.

“Valentines- WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS NOTE, ANGEL!!!??”

“Halloween!”

“Valentines, again.”

“..Whatever Angel said!!..I guess..?? Huh.. Okay um, so whatever Angel answered…”

For the last one, Vaggie allowed Charlie to say it (to which she was ecstatic to do.)

“And last but not least.. Valentines!!”

. . .

“Soooooo..” Charlie started as she looked at Vaggie, holding her hand tightly as they smiled at each other before once again turning to the group.

“The holiday is that we’re going to be celebrating is going to be..”

“Valentine’s day!!”

This was going to be fun.

Charlie had husk save all of the red wine possible, Vaggie was discussing possible decorations for the hotel, and you were left to find some romantic music to play on your violin and possibly on the piano.

Niffty was making sure that the Hotel looked more perfect than ever as to not have to worry about it after the soirée, and for the after party for just the employees and patrons of the hotel. (although, got more distracted by roaches more than ever.)

Angel Dust was feeling especially romantic, trying to advance upon Husk at the even more than usual, to which Husk had to endure and ignore.

For Alastor? God knows up to what he was doing.

Like— you could barely find him around anywhere..

But nevertheless, you tried to play some romantic pop tunes, romantic jazzy tunes, anything that would work for this holiday. Took you quite a bit, but when you got it- you felt very accomplished!

And this.. got Charlie to actually get a venue where you could play at..

Oh lordddddd….

Of course, you asked for Charlie and Vaggie’s opinions on it, and they were elated to hear it. (Mainly Charlie!)

You’d tried figuring out what outfit you were going to wear for the holiday, searching and scanning everything you possibly had in your wardrobe for something.

And you found that very something.

The outfit that you’d chosen was lovely, in your opinion. A white collared dress up shirt underneath a red, button up tailcoat. The back was a large ruffled fishtail hem, and with puffy sleeves that turned into long, fitted sleeves to the wrists. 4 golden buttons embroidered onto the chest area where the coat ruffed out into a darker red. The buttons had small, thin chains that connected them to the one across from each other. White fingerless gloves where a bit of it wrapped around your middle finger looked… nice. Nicer than you thought. This was then followed by some black pants, which were a bit baggy and flared out near the ankles And to top it all off, you put on some black heeled boots.

If you were to say you weren’t excited to show everyone your outfit and see theres, you’d be lying to yourself.

..this holiday thing actually might be a bad thing!

(Not that you thought so in the first place.)

You’d even play in that outfit as practice, just to see if it was comfortable and playable! (Which it very much was).

With every passing day approaching the Holiday, everything mainly felt like bliss. Charlie was more elated than ever, starting to teach more lessons about how Valentine’s day could help the Hotel more, Vaggie was.. very high strung (yet tried her best to relax for her girlfriend when asked by her). You yourself even started helping with decorations around the Hotel just to get the couple to relax for at least an hour. You ended up working for almost a whole day, yet it was worth all of that time and work. They deserved all of that resting. And the best thing at that? You did it mostly by yourself!

Very rewarding, if you might say so yourself.

Before you got self-conscious about everything you helped on.

Especially when the special day had arrived.

What if they don’t like it?? What if they don’t like your music? Don’t like your outfit???? If you make a fool out of yourself, then what next?? You’ve become so tense, your shoulders almost reaching to your ears— this is not going as ‘stress-free’ as you’d planned.

Fidgeting with the cuff of your overcoat, you bit your bottom lip and anxiously awaited for the inevitable knocking that would arrive at your door soon. As an angel, you’ve gotten quite stressed due to a multitude of reasons, but this might be one of the more stressful and worrying situations you’ve been in since.. a bit.

The hand twiddling with the cuff then turned to your other hand, playing with your fingers. A part of you really didn’t want the string of knocks to arrive, but.. there was really no control over the current circumstance. Only to freak out about something you’ve worked so hard in, something you thought you’d looked decent enough in, decorations they’ve probably already seen and possibly laughed at- your breathing hitched at the thought. God, you feel so stupid. They’re going to hate it, you’re going to embarrass the Hotel, aren’t you?

Knock, knock!

And there it is. That dreaded sound. Your nails started digging at your hands, and you felt your stomach drop. This is going to be ruined- you’re going to ruin it.

Hesitant to open the door, another knock sounded out as you further approached the door. And with a final deep breath, your hand rested gently on the cold metal of the doorknob before twisting it and swinging it open.

To someone you.. weren’t exactly suspecting to see!

Alastor!!

“…Good evening, Alastor!” You almost stuttered over your own words, forcing a smile to plaster itself onto your lips.

Even more surprising, the man was dressed much more differently!

A black, long collared dress up shirt where it’s sleeves slightly poke out with a red cross on the chest under a Bordeaux red pinstripe coat with same colored lapels. A ribbon red waistcoat with rosy pink colored, vertical strips decorating it along with 2 wine red buttons. A pair black dress pants and his usual shoes, along with his gloves.

It takes you a moment to realize the stag has put up his hair into a small ponytail. Good grief… how can a man be so attractive.

“Good evening to you, my dear! I do believe it’s time for your little performance soon at this soirée!” His head tilts to the side a bit, trademark smile always on his face as per usual as he stares down at you. Your smile immediately turns into a small frown with a sigh from you, causing you to bury your face into your hands.

He halts for a moment, before continuing on.

“Now, what’s got you all a mess? I thought you would love this!”

“I do!! It’s…” The words lodge in your throat as you falter to continue on, turning away from the man with your arms wrapped yourself in a hug.

“..What if I fail- what if I look tacky?? In my performance, and by just.. looking at me and my appearance!!” Facing the man once more, you motion to your ensemble with a fearful look as your gaze downturns to the ground.

“If I fail.. I ruin the image of the hotel. I ruin my image, I ruin everything!! If i’m not perfect in this.. I don’t even know anymore…” Internally, you’re questioning on why you’re telling your deepest fears to an overlord known for being mostly apathetic to most. Who knows.

The overlord grin remains the same as his eyes narrow looking down at you. He’d be lying to himself if he didn’t like the little thing you had going on here! He enjoys the amusement of people failing so much!!.. but, theres something that pangs him right into his unfeeling and dead heart like a knife.

An exhale escapes past his lips as one of his rest upon your shoulder.

“Darling.” The biggest part of him is telling himself to say something akin to his normal snarky remarks.

But he can’t now.

Whats stopping him? Has he gone soft?? What in hell is wrong with him??

“I’m more than certain you’ll do wonderful in your little show for the Hotel. Have you disappointed us before?” Your head raises a bit as you open your mouth to speak, before a clawed hand reaches for your jaw and lifts it up to fully face him, making you avert your gaze almost instantaneously.

“You’re going to say ‘oh, I don’t think so. At least I hope so.’ And darling, only half of that is semi-correct. Your performances have not once failed to amaze us, including me, beyond belief and words that could describe it. Your voice is delightful, and your playing is even rivaling one of my favorite jazz songs from back in the day!! I can understand your stress, but you shouldn’t worry much about it, my darling doll.”

The mans words had you actually speechless.

“However, you can never beat me at piano!” He laughs, and you huff in response before he clears his throat.

“Now.. hasn’t this been enough dawdling for now, doll?” Alastor inquired, to which you leisurely nodded due to yourself still processing his words.

He hand already laced his arm with one of your arm, almost making you squeak out from surprise in response. Like a second instinct, you moved slightly closer to him, mainly behind, and bit your bottom lip once again.

“Off we go, now!” The deer explained in a sing-song-like tone, marching out of you, trailing behind while struggling to close your door…

Walking down those stairs is nerve racking as you keep your gaze downcast at the steps and your shoes, almost clinging to Alastor’s arm now with both of your arms wrapped around it.

As much as he despises touch- ..he doesn’t seem to mind this much.

“..Tell me if my touch makes you uncomfortable.” Oh? How thoughtful! His grin strains a bit as he strides on over to the group, you clinging to him as you take a moment before you start raising your head to the couple to which you have stopped in front of within the lobby of the Hotel.

And, they’re certainly matching.

You have to stop yourself from squealing like a fangirl.

Vaggie's ensemble has a black and purple mauve dress featuring asymmetrical layers and a feathered tailcoat of a matching red that Charlie has, eye-like designs embroidered into the fabric. Similar colored fingerless gloves she now wears, with a black ring with a bunch of hearts on her ring finger. Her hair has been tied up with her usual bow but now into a ponytail. A shawl-like garment is adorned with three bold red hearts along the left side in a line. She finishes up with dark lace stockings and white flats.

Charlie wears a black overcoat draped over her shoulders that reaches to her upper calves, and small golden sun shaped pins on both sides of the coat with a thin chain connecting them across her chest. She wears a black choker with a dark red heart pendant hanging off of it, and a golden bracelet around her right wrist. They even have matching, black rings with hearts all over it with each other!! Black petals adorn her hair, which is tied in her usual hairstyle. She wears a sleeveless, red top followed by a black and golden belt where the center is a golden shaped, empty heart. To top it off, she wears black baggy pants with black boot heels.

“..You both look-“

“WONDERFUL!!” Squealing, you start happily bouncing up and down, gawking at the couple with linked arms in front of you.

“Oh, thank you!! YOU LOOK AMAZING TOO!” Charlie beams, stars practically shining in her eyes.

Vaggie gives a nod as agreement with Charlie, and one of appreciation at the same time.

As the couple and Alastor engage within a conversation for who knows whats, you find your eyes wandering off to look at the rest of your friends to see what they’re doing.

Over at the bar, a certain well dressed spider demon and a slightly underdressed cat demon are.. ‘interacting’.

“Ohhh c’mon, babycakes. We could-“

“No. Go fuck yourself..”

“Only if ya’ watch me!” Husk groans at Angel, who has now slightly climbed onto the counter of the bar, to which Husk pushes him off.

You try to suppress the urge to giggle out-loud and decide to look for a certain small bug demon.

But.. you can’t find her—

“WOAHHHH!” Gasping, you almost recoil at the familiar voice, but ground yourself as your head snaps down to look at Niffty- who is all spiffed up!

Niffty’s hair has been put up into one that appears to look more like one from the 1950’s as it’s far more curly than before. It’s accompanied by two white roses which are held together by a thin, red wine piece of rope in the shape of a.. bow slightly sagging.

Her outfit incorporates a short sleeved, white dress up shirt, matched with 5 coral pink buttons aligned in the middle of the shirt. Added on, she has two pearl earrings and a white, and pink pearl necklace which is matched with a silver chain. The skirt of her dress has a sort of.. belt incorporated into it already as it has a slightly white, rectangle belt holder in the center of the blush pink skirt- which reaches to her ankles. White polka dots along with venetian red roses matched with a Russian green stems are embroidered on the skirt scattered all over it. To top it all off, she has simple white Mary Jane-like shoes.

Heat rushes to your cheeks as you smile.

“Awwh! Nif, you look adorable!!” You pat the small demons head. Not in a condescending way.. just.. as a spur of the moment decision.

“YOU LOOK VERY PRETTY!!” She squeals out, bouncing up and down.

And before you could actually start speaking once again, the small demon… bunny hops onto your chest, making you stumble back with a squeak-like sound and unlace your arm with Alastor’s in order to have both hands on Niffty to make sure she doesn’t fall either..

You’ve noticed that the couple and Alastor have stopped their conversation, probably looking at you and Niffty now…

“I could add something to make you look better!”The words don’t sound too sinister, but she’s grinning like a maniac.

“..Like?” You anxiously smile. Her toothy grin grows wider.

“ROSES!! IN YOUR HAIR!!” Yelping out her words, which makes instantaneously nod her request, she giggles happily.

Suddenly the small demon… now has a bouquet of red and white roses. How? You have no clue. While she climbs her way to your shoulder, plucking some petals from both colored flowers. You try your best not to move as your gaze drifts off to look at the trio beside you.

Yep.. they’re staring at you.

“..You guys good?”

“Of course, my darling!” No. Nothings alright. Why is that little miscreant touching you?- why did she make you stop being so close to him now? He’s owned her soul for quite some time now, and knows how she acts, being quite fond of her! But, why is she acting ever so.. friendly with you?..

His smile has become more strained than ever as his head turns to the couple still looking at the display of you and Niffty. Charlie looks more excited than ever, and Vaggie is.. more surprised.

“Now! Where were we?”

As the conversation now resumes, Niffty finishes up with placing the rose petals in your hair, and actually plants on red rose near your ear!

“Okay!! I’m done!!!” Niffty practically shrieks out, clapping her hands as shes placed down on the ground.

“Thank you, Nif. It’s beautiful.” The small demon merrily bows before rushing off… somewhere else.

Nervously, your head turns to the center of the foyer, where the piano to which you’ve avoided up until causes to gulp. But, in response, you take a deep breath.

You just.. need to be calm. You need to relax.

What causes you to come back to your senses is a small tap on your shoulder.

“You ready?” Vaggie quietly asks, moving closer to you. And you pause for a moment before nodding, now putting a smile onto your face. She even gives a smile back.

“Alright, everyone!! Gather the hell up!” Angel and Husk both appear from the darkness of the Bar, approaching the center to where the small stand with the piano atop of it rests. Niffty has rushed into the room, happily bouncing from adrenaline, you suppose..

“We’re headin’ out. And we aren’t going to mess any of this up for the hotel.” She loudly exclaims, resting a hand on her hip as the rest of the group nods. Safe to say you’re panicking so much internally

Please, please do not let this venue end horribly because of you…

. . .

Backstage, you’re pacing.

The venue is lovely from what you’ve seen so far. Velvet curtains shroud the stage as of currently, which has you awaiting for your time to step up and play those lovely songs you’ve been practicing all this time.

As you had first entered: seating area is adorned with cushioned chairs arranged around tables draped in cloths of white, pink, red, or regal purple, each adorned with intricate heart designs. Silverware gleams under the soft glow of candlelight, while glasses of wine shimmer with anticipation. Plates overflow with delectable cuisine from most sinners and overlords who’d arrive here at the Princess of Hell’s invitation (of course, with threats unknowingly added by the Radio Demon!!)

Candelabras cast a warm, flickering light across the room. A polished and lavish golden chandelier hangs from the ceiling, its crystals catching the light as dangling heart pendants gently sway, casting a romantic glow over the scene.

At the bar, being ran by Husk, patrons are usually having ‘lively conversation’, as they await for their entertainment.

But thats also worrying for you, adding more stress. They’re awaiting you.

What if—

The curtains part slowly, and you tense. Goddamnit, no time to think, and no time to have these silly worries replay in your head. You impatiently wait for the curtains to fully open, as rehearsed before. And when they fully do, you can see the eyes of thousands just.. staring inside, from the wings. It takes every last string of restraint for you to try to relax yourself during this.. ‘predicament’.

Taking one last deep breath before the inevitable fate for you on that stage.

You stride with as much perfect posture you can, hands clasped in-front of your lap as you make it to your grand piano, stationed on the mahogany floorboards of the stage. It takes you a second to settle down upon the stood, but when you do, you hover your fingers over the keys of the instrument, recounting every single one in your head as best as you can.

With nothing more to think of besides playing, you start playing the first few chords..

And just like that, you’re immersed within your passion, and everlasting fears as you play key after key.

To say each of the residents and sinners were baffled would probably be an understatement. A great understatement.

You’ve been practicing.. so hard for this very moment, and everything you’ve done has been paying off. Charlie is just absolutely blown away, Vaggie is.. speechless, Husk has his eyebrows raised and arms crossed as his listens to the tune and your singing, Angel Dust is just grinning with an ‘I knew it’ look, Niffty looks like shes going to… explode, and Alastor.. is smiling. Smiling more than ever before- no, this is.. a genuine smile.

Turns out his word really was true.

As the last chord of the piano and last note of your singing lingers within the air, you awaiting for well.. anything.

Booing, laughter, anything.

It only took a few seconds for loud clapping to echo throughout every nook and cranny and your head snaps to the audience. They’re all cheering, all in a slightly similar way of course. Husk is nodding, softly clapping his hands with an amused smirk plastered on his lips. Charlie is vigorously clapping, bouncing up and down merrily as she hugs her girlfriend who was clapping at your performance with a small smile, as well. Angel is cheering the loudest, proclaiming “THATS MY FUCKIN’ BESTIE!” Or… something along the lines of that. Niffty is actually about to jump from her seat, and people start whistling in awe at your play.

Heat crept on your cheeks as you gave a sheepish smile towards the crowd, standing up to slightly shift away from the piano in order to curtesy in respect as they continue on with their cheering. Before you could process, flowers- specifically roses were being thrown onto stage. With widened eyes, you stand up straight again and stare at everyone, trying your best to ignore the heavy light which felt too warm for your liking- but you shouldn’t complain..

Flowers are constantly being tossed onto stage, the applause continues and you take another curtsey before scurrying off stage, making the lights dim.

You don’t really know why you ran off in such a beautiful moment, but you were going to have to leave eventually. The main thing is that you really aren’t.. used to such big crowds applauding for you. It feels much different than just being in a theater, for example.

Finding yourself backstage into the single dressing room it has, you almost collapse onto the sofa with a drawled out groan. You haven’t even bothered to turn on the lights within the room, or the lights on the vanity off- being your only light source as of currently.

..Not gonna lie, you’re probably going to fall asleep if you lay down like this for the rest of the evening.

That would be nice.

Yeah.. you might just do that.

Your eyelids slowly start to get heavier and heavier, making you shift to your side and slightly curling into yourself for warmth. May all be damned because this was surprisingly comfortable despite how you were dressed and.. well, everything else. And with just a few more seconds, you shut your eyes with a content smile gracing your lips.

“Now.. was I wrong, my darling doll?” A voice beams from the side, causing you to immediately rise up out of fear and shock. Well, so much for getting some rest now.

“Oh— Alastor! Hi!..” Trying to pull yourself together, ruffling up your hair a little with a hand, leaning back on the couch as you sit more in a tailor position on the couch.

He takes a moment survey the room, tapping a clawed finger against the side of his microphone before turning to face you. You swear you can see him hiding something behind his back- but you can’t prove anything, can you? You’re too tired for this anyway..

“What are you doing? Don’t you know, the people are quite excited to see you outside?” The inquiry has you blushing even more from embarrassment and hope that the floor magically eats you whole.

A huff escapes you, now turning to bring your knees up to your chest and bury your face into your legs instead of facing the one man who would make fun of you as he found you just trying to rest. It’s.. irritating. And, not really because of Alastor. Just, upsetting.

“Sorry. I’ll.. be out in a moment.”

“Before that, my darling. I have another question for you.” It takes you a second to raise your head up at the stag, staring at him as a motion for him to continue on speaking. He seemed almost hesitant to continue, but slowly managed to get the words to come out.

“Do you have a Valentine so far? Has anyone asked you?” Oh fuck.

He’s so going to mock you. Holy shit.

“..No.” Please please, please do not make any remarks. Don’t. Please.

“Mm.” The mere hum in response freaks you out, but you manage to keep a straight face as you’re internally screaming at the top of your lungs, probably crying as well.

Biting the inside of your cheek, nails digging into the cloth of your pants, close to the flesh of your legs as you await the interchangeable fate from this encounter.

“How would you like to be mine then, darling?”

..what?

You’re honestly.. shocked by this. The amount of time it takes for the cogs in your brain to process this new information is.. quite a bit. And, just before you can even utter a single word to the man’s advance- he reveals what he’s been hiding behind his back this whole time: wilted red roses. How romantic.

Blinking repeatedly at the gesture, you find yourself leisurely getting up and walking closer to the buck, gently wrapping your hands around his holding the roses.

“..I would love that.” Simply staring at the roses, you can’t help but smile and then look up at the man.

“And, is this you asking me out?” The query is mainly a joke as you chuckle a bit, his face still the same as ever: smiling, staring back down at you. However, you thought this mainly as a platonic gesture instead of a romantic one, being that you know a lot better. He chuckles for a moment before clearing his throat.

“Perhaps. Would that be so bad?” That definitely had your heart fluttering.

You’re still reeling from the unexpected gesture he’s made. His usually charismatic demeanor has softened, revealing a vulnerability you never thought you'd see in him. He should be withholding this. His eyes, although still half-lidded have a.. gentle warmth that draws you in. The air is charged with tension, a palpable mix of anticipation and uncertainty as you try to comprehend the depth of his actions. And with your thinking in that moment, you realize that this enigmatic figure before you is more than just ‘The radio demon.’ More than just a demon that has been feared for centuries.

He’s another mortal soul. Just like you.

Yet however, curiosity pangs you right in the heart as you recount the things he’s told about himself to you.

“Wait, Alastor,, are you sure?.. Please- I would not want to lose you over this. I know-” The more you overthink this and try to babble on, he slides his hand from under yours and brings it to cup your cheek.

“My darling doll, do you think I don’t love and cherish your company more than any of the others at the Hotel? it’d be a downright shame to not have a beauty as talented and great like you on my arm. Yet, I don’t believe you feel such similar feelings, no?” He laughs obnoxiously at his own words, but inside he’s.. he doesn’t know what he’s going to do if you don’t-

“Oh- no, of course not!”

He swear he can feel his undead heart halt like it had been beating all of this time.

“I wouldn’t want to ruin your image anyways..” With a shrug, you feel guilt wash over you. Why did you lie?

“..It wouldn’t, my darling doll!” The reaffirming words seemed much more disappointed than before and it almost made you freak out even more. Did he know?

As silence passes through between the two of you, trying to figure out what to make of each other’s feeling and words. You start to speak.

“Alastor.. are you actually trying to court me?” The words come out as a whisper, a hand of your own reaching up to place over his on your cheek while the other still held the rose bouquet.

..Static.

Radio static fills the room.

You’re afraid.

“My darling doll.. would that be such a problem?”

“…No. I don’t think so..”

His grin widens even more than you could possibly think of after being strained for such a long while. His thumb brushes downwards to your jaw and tilts your head upward more, stopping as soon as he has you looking more at his own jaw and the lower part of his mouth.

“Now tell me, why would you lie to me? Quite the bad habit, doll!” That static from earlier has still not left- in fact, it’s gotten louder than you’ve noticed up until this point in this encounter. He’s even lowered his head to go face to face with you this time.

Goddamnit.

“I didn’t want to make things awkward between us. I truly value our friendship, and I didn't want to risk losing that by admitting.. that I saw you in a far different way than probably you did for me. It's not that I don't appreciate your affection or the effort you've put into courting me before or even now, it's just that I didn't want to lead you on or give you false hope. Not only that- I was certain that you didn’t have any romantic attraction to or for anyone for a matter of fact.” Speaking faster than you intended made it harder to even keep up with your thought process.

“Not in a rude way! Just- I care a lot about making you comfortable and not passing any boundaries of yours. You don’t like romance much, you don’t like when people touch you if you don’t initiate it first.” Your shoulders slumped as you continue to ramble on, or at least try.

“All that? Dear.. I told you exactly how I felt. I wouldn’t mind if it was you.”

“..Are you sure you like.. aren’t pressuring yourself to feel this way?? Or something?”

“Darling, I force myself to do nothing. It all comes naturally!” Oh yes, naturally. That obsession? As much as he despises it- it did happen.. naturally.

“Besides…” The feeling of his claws starting to dig into the flesh of your cheek causes you to whine in pain, flinching even. You almost drop the roses due to the sudden reaction. This.. is not something that’s happened before.

“You aren’t dating anyone, correct?” His odd sing-song-like tone made you so.. uncomfortable. Dear goodness, all the color drains from your face as your eyes widen a bit at this. Immediately pulling your hand off of his, now wrapping both arms around the bouquet.

His claws stop digging into your cheek, almost making you instantly cry if you weren’t restraining yourself, wanting to run away, yet he brushes his thumb against your bottom lip ever so gently. How can the same person who just hurt you be the same person with such a gentle touch, told you such comforting words and possibly be the same person who just hurt you?

Stumbling backwards away from the man with hitched breathing, your eyes anxiously survey the man who hasn’t moved but, his smile has become more tense as his eyes have become narrowed as he stares you down like prey.

Why in Heaven’s great name is this happening??

Feeling a warm liquid trickle down your cheek, you instantaneously raise a hand to feel the damage done- already knowing what it is. It’s fucking blood. The sensation of tears start welling up and you lower your gaze for a long moment as you try to piece everything together.

“You- why!?” You cried out, with the tears now pouring down and mixing with the blood on one side. Unintentionally, you back yourself against one of the walls of the dressing room.

Oh you’re so screwed.

“Oh? Are you against me now? But, you don’t know even the beginning of how deep these vile feelings course through me for you!! You started this, darling.” Screwing your eyes shut as you hear his footsteps start to approach, you can’t help the whimpers that leave you.

With the subtle touch of one of his hands on your shoulder, you no longer think you can see him as the same person you did before, even after the sentimental moment. Even after the few times you’ve revealed your feelings to him, no matter how kong you’ve spent time together.

“Everything I’ve done for you so far was because of these wretched emotions started fluttering around, making me feel so much at the same time. It’s infuriating. They’re filthy, disgusting, but they’re still there. But, perhaps if I finally do something about these, I’ll finally be able to be rid of them. Perhaps it’s time that I take action on these, no?” You desperately want to shake your head no- but being frozen with shock with everything currently happening does you no good.

“You’re my valentine, darling. Always mine, and mine alone!”

Those are the final words spoken as your tears continue to pour, but he couldn’t care less and kisses them away. He enjoys this anyway. After-all, you’re helpless. The entire situation is helpless. And with no other thought in mind, he finds his lips on yours in a chaste kiss.

You physically have no idea why this took so long- and I’m sorry y’all. ILY POOKIES, ENJOY YOUR FOOD.

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