#Because Charlie would never use a gun

[fallenorpheus]

You ever come up with a stupid idea that's probably only funny in your sleep deprived mind?

[bunnys-kisses]

love is a kick to the stomach

max verstappen - sequel to: lust is a loaded hand gun

tags: smut/fluff, pregnancy & kids, falling in love, dad!max, body worship, tenderness, plot, cowgirl position

a/n: this was made possible by the support of over a dozen people asking for a sequel! i hope you enjoy it <3

"are you sure you're going to be fine on your own?" your former teammate charles asked as he helped you pack the last of your suitcases. your apartment in monaco was bare, and for good reason, you were going home.

you replied with a shrug, "i'll be fine. i mean if i could sustain a driving career for as long as i did. i can handle raising a baby." you rubbed your lower back a little bit.

charles said,"i guess so, you know, monaco isn't a terrible place to raise a child." he gestured to himself with raised eyebrows.

"as much as i'd love to." you said, "i think people will start to raise eyebrows when they see max's look-alike running around. plus, i guess it's a way to get away from it. something simpler for my kid."

you hadn't spoken to the father of your son, max didn't know you were pregnant. and it was the best for everyone if he never knew that you had a child with him.

you remember the first time you held nicolas in your arms, it took you close to ten hours for you to deliver him. you had to say, the aches and pains of racing were nothing compared to the rising anxiety and pain of delivering a child. didn't help he was stubborn like this father. you tried not to think about max too much during the moments of lessened pain. part of you wanted him there, while you were determined to raise your child alone. the moments of weakness you felt during delivery made you want to hastily unblock max's number and call him before the next contractions came.

"okay, okay. just you and me, baby, just you and me." you told yourself as you laid in the hospital bed with your belly swollen from the months of carrying your son. you hissed through your teeth as another contraction hit.

in the end, you had nicolas. or nico as you called him. tired, over-heated as you pushed out your baby. the nurse told you it was a boy. wrapped in a blanket as he was placed on your chest. you could only describe it as maternal warmth as you cried. this was your baby. your little nico. "congratulations." the nurse told you as you held onto him gently. when you gave birth to your son, max was in monaco streaming with the rest of the redline team. fully unaware that you just had his child.

you lived a quiet life after that, but sometimes you could still feel the rumble of the track in your soul. it pulled you in, there was no reason for it to come back. there was no way you could, nico needed his mother and you made the choice to start a family of your own.

"nico!" you giggled towards your toddler, nico was now close to three years old! you picked him up from his spot at the coffee table, surrounded by papers and markers. you gave him a kiss on the cheek and said, "remember uncle charlie?" you swayed a little with the child in your arms.

the little boy nodded, "uh-huh." charles sent you and nico christmas presents every year. he even visited once or twice during summer break and spent a week with the two of you, he loved the time away from the hustle and bustle of racing. nico knew uncle charlie mostly because of leo, you had to teach him how to be gentle with the dog.

"well, he is inviting us somewhere. we're going to see him race, just like what mama used to do." it was the pre-season testing, it would be nice to see everyone. see how things changed in the three years since you left, "i know you've been asking about the cars." you smiled at the little boy.

nico really was the son of two racers, even now he was colouring pages of cars and he learned some of his colours from the cars in your neighbourhood. his expression light up, "the cars?"

you chuckled and said, "yes! we'll see the cars go really fast." it felt somewhat silly to say that raising a child felt more fulfilling than any of the titles you won.

it was almost more challenging with more rewards. driving was intense and lit an inferno in your stomach. but, you were constantly swarmed by the media with people yelling in your ear at all times. you were both hated and loved by the press, the organization and the fans. and while parenthood was harder in a lot of ways, it was nice. it was quieter. you saw friends, you found interest in painting, you read all the books you bought on your travels as a racer. the best part about having a kid was having a travel buddy. you weren't your stats or your trophies, you were just you.

but driving was a drug, and you also wanted to see the cars go very fast. so within a couple of weeks you were on the track for the pre-season.

"and that nico, is a racing car." you pointed towards the red ferrari car. a similar one to the one you drove. and you watched your young son light up the way you did all those years prior.

-

you knew you were going to see max. it was stupid to think that you could not see him. he had won the previous year's wdc, he was everywhere. so while you spoke to lewis and charles, you caught sight of him. and he caught sight of the toddler in your arms.

charles looked over to where your gaze was and said, "oh shit." then tried to shift over to sort of usher you and nico away from the gaze of max. but you reached out and touched your former teammates shoulder.

"it's fine..." you assured him. the past year, as it felt like nico was growing so much everyday. the feelings about max had resurfaced. while you believed that you and your network of friends and family could raise nico just fine. max didn't know that nico existed. a night of passion was just that in max's mind.

you shifted your toddler in your arms and looked over to max. you smiled and gave him a small wave. and you could see the expression cross max's face.

nico let go of the front of your shirt and made child's grabby-hands towards the man. and max took a bold step forward, and then another, and then another before he was crowded in your space. an expression across his face as he looked down at you and nico.

"hey." you said.

"hi." he replied. he raised his hand for a moment, but stopped himself. he swallowed and asked, "who is this?"

you looked down at the boy who was holding onto your shirt once more. you smiled at max, "nicolas. but everyone calls him nico. he's my son."

our son.

max swallowed and looked at the boy. he patted him on the top of the head and smiled, "well, hello nico. your mama was an amazing driver." he looked at you once more before you were pulled away by charles to see the rest of the ferrari team. max watched you walk away, just as he did all those years prior.

-

"can i watch nico?" charles asked while

"i can watch him just fine. i've been doing it for three years." you chuckled as you grabbed a chip from the bag and ate it.

charles crossed his arms and looked at you, "when was the last time you had a break? plus me and alexandra are thinking about, maybe, having a child once my career winds down." he smiled a little, "want to make sure that i can handle a three year old."

you looked to your son on the carpeted floor playing with the duplo blocks that you had brought with you. you then looked to charles and asked, "so you're probably assuming that if you can handle the son of me and him, you can handle your own child?"

charles nodded, "the child of ferrari's princess and mad max. must be a handful." he laughed a little.

"he's not the son of satan, charles." you playfully shoved your former teammate. and he shrugged. you were thankful in a way that you didn't go with charles' plan for him to father your child. you felt like that would've been more complicated than what you had now, since you liked charles' current partner.

"take the night off or at least a few hours. go do something for yourself." charles gave you a sympathetic glance. and you had no choice to concede.

he was right, since nico's birth you had no time for yourself unless he was asleep. but usually you fell asleep too. in the end you dressed nicely, in a pencil skirt and a white blouse. you had your purse on hand and told charles to text you if there were any issues. and you made nico promise you to be good. you kissed the boy's cheek before you headed out.

you ended up at a bar. it wasn't busy and you blended in with the other patrons. the press didn't bother you too much, you had been out of the spotlight for long that it was mostly making the public aware that you still existed and now you had a kid.

"well, well, well." a man's voice caught your attention. you looked up from your phone to see max by your table, "has ferrari's princess finally come back to her castle."

you swallowed, "hi, max."

"where's the little one?"

"with charles tonight."

max nodded, "i was going to make a joke about him being the father... but i know that's not true." he sat down across from you at the table. he rested his forearms on the table, his watch shined in the low light of the bar, "what happened?"

"nothing happened. i just retired."

"with my son... a son i knew nothing about." his voice was low, "why didn't you tell me? do you think so low of me i wouldn't have tried to help? you ran off back home and blocked me..." there was a look in his eyes.

"i didn't want to burden the world champion." you lied as you took a sip of your stiff drink. you felt tension in your shoulders as you took a sip. your heart rattled in your chest, "i didn't expect you to do anything. i didn't need you to."

max reached across the small table and took a hold of your wrist to bring your closer. then he locked his fingers with yours. he said, "maybe i wanted to... did you never think i wanted to be a father?"

you swallowed, "no." you assumed he didn't. not after everything, you heard enough of his father's berating in your karting career. the angry dutch words followed by insults in english so everyone knew what was being said. and that apprently only scratched the surface of what had been done to him. you thought max was a good fit because he would be so disinterested in being a parent. but as he looked at you, hand in yours. you realized you made a grave error. you said, "being a parent isn't easy."

max chuckled, "i know. i'm not stupid. i thought about that night we shared, it comes back to me. i've never wanted someone the way i wanted you. and to know you carried my child, it only pulls me in more."

you took another sip of your drink with your free hand and said, "and what are you going to do about it, verstappen?" you may be a mother now, but you were ferrari's princess, the temptress on wheels. you'd still go toe-to-toe with any man.

max simply smiled.

-

you ended up in max's hotel room. his hands on you like they were all those years ago. he touched you the way a lover would as the two of you passionately made out. you moaned against his lips and you held onto his strong shoulders.

"i thought about you every day of your retirement. i wanted to know what happened. i thought you were sick." he kissed along your neck, his hands at your waist.

"i mean, i did have quite the stomach bug. took ten hours to get him out." you moaned a little bit as his lips grazed over your pulse point. you could feel a surge of pleasure through you. you had been with anyone intimately since max. you didn't have time for dates let alone hook-ups.

"i should've been there. i would've been there in a heartbeat. you, me, nico... a family." he said as he looked to you once more and you toyed with the material of his shirt, "i always had a fondness for you. you let nothing stop you."

you smiled, "i always thought you wanted a model... not a driver."

he pressed his chest against yours and looked into your eyes, "maybe in another time. i wish i could've seen you pregnant." he swallowed as his hands touched your breasts.

you chuckled lowly, "someone wanted a milf?"

he shook his head as he pressed his forehead to yours, "no, no. i wanted to see your body change from what we made. the child we made together."

"but racing..."

he groaned, "fuck it. choose between another trophy taking up space in my apartment... or a home with you and nico. such a hard choice, don't you think?" he chuckled as he held you so close to him. he groped your breasts, "a man who finds more fulfillment in pieces of plastic and metal than having a home to go to is a stupid man."

you chuckled, "i guess i didn't want to be your wag either."

he shook his head, "i don't think you can be a wag if you played the sport. if you are worried about there being expectations placed on you, then don't worry. if you can't drive, then i'll drive twice as hard for us. any ten second gap i have will be twenty seconds, because i know you only expect the best."

you felt warmth in your cheeks. and eventually he led you to the bedroom. you ended up on the bed with max undoing your button up. you giggled, "ah, does someone like mothers?"

he groaned with his nose against your heated skin, "only when they had my kid... nico looked exactly like me." he said as he got the button up off your shoulder.

you moaned, but then yelped as he pushed you back onto the bed. you looked up at him, "i'm on birth control." you licked your lips as you got out of your bra and max took off his t-shirt, "fuck, now i remember why i wanted to have a baby with you."

he put his hands on his hips and smiled. tiny waist, broad shoulders. a certain strength to him, but he didn't look like a dehydrated mess. he was strong in a way that excited you, but you also knew that he loved a good meal. long before he gorged himself on your cunt, he happily ate the meals you cooked. you remember he even said, "you'd make a great wife." which honestly sowed the seed that led to nico.

the night of passion that led to the making of your son. you could feel max's eyes wander across your body and he licked his lips. he said, "you look good. bit more curves than when we last were like this."

"yeah, i had an eight pound baby." you chuckled as you got the rest of your clothes off. max's hungry gaze lingered, "i got a few more curves that a track as carry him for nine months, you know he was three days overdue."

"stubborn." max laughed as he unzipped his jeans, "just like his mama."

you narrowed your eyes, "no, just like his old man." and max was all over you. the kissed became hungry and needy. neither of you had been intimate with another person since the night you made nico. three years ago. you were busy with a baby while max couldn't get you out of his head. he tried to find another woman, he tried to be close to someone. but you always pulled in the back of his mind.

both of you were into the hotel room and max kissed at your breasts. your breasts were roughly average size before you got pregnant. the training and weight guidelines for racing prevented you from having a big chest. but you went up at least a cup and a half during your pregnancy. and max loved kissing the heated skin.

"fuck." you gasped. both naked on the bed, moved against one another. it was like being in a familiar place. you knew max's body just as you did all those years ago. you kissed him and ended up straddled max's waist.

he was up against the pillows and your knees on either side of him. your hands roamed his chest and he shuddered. he looked up at you with those blue eyes, "please, fuck. please, give me a chance. give me a chance to be there for you and nico.."

you swallowed, you never expected that from max. a man on the top like that wouldn't easily quiver at the aspect of being a father. but max wanted it. he wanted the family. he wanted a home. you sighed to yourself, you guessed an apartment full of trophies wasn't enough.

you put a hand on his chest before you sank on his cock, "max. if nico decided not to peruse racing.... would you still love him?" that was a conversation you had to have with yourself. you loved racing, that was your passion for years. but you promised yourself to never be the parent that you saw early in your career. twisting their children to make them conform to the parent's standards. to force them into racing.

he said, those blue eyes gazed up at you, "if nico wanted to race. i'm behind him a hundred percent. if it doesn't, nothing changes... he is still my son. i'm behind him through everything."

you leaned down to kiss max on the lips, "fuck, max." you sank down onto his cock and continued to kiss him. you splayed your hands across his broad chest and continued to move against him.

"shit." he shuddered. he felt a certain euphoria that left him needy for more. never had he had soemthing like this. not since the last time he had you. it was a amazing. to have you so close once more. he wrapped his strong arms around you and moved against you. the kisses shared between you two were hot and heavy, it left him feeling tense in a good way. to have you on top of him, close to him was a feeling he wished he could never forget.

even after three years you still occupied his mind in ways that left him shuddering against you. after three years, after all this time, he still wanted to map your body with his tongue. even the changes post-pregnancy. he held onto you and kissed at your heated skin. he wished he was there, seeing the progress of you carrying nico. to be a father. he moved against you, he held you. he loved you, but he had been holding onto that love for some time. unable to properly display it, and to find out you had a child with him only fueled the passion for you. the two of you moved against one another, you both felt the intense pleasure from the heated movements against one another.

this was how you should've been a long time ago. if max had known you wanted a baby, he would've happily had one with you. but he should've been there for every moment of it. even if you couldn't race because of the pregnancy, max would kiss every winning trophy in your honor, he'd race for both of you. and then come to the paddock with you and nico, a family of three. a family he always wanted.

he wanted to kiss you in front of the cameras. even if you were retired, he wanted to make you feel that every winning was for both of you. he kissed at you heated skin and you moaned, he felt the warmth of love in his gut. you two should've been married by now, a house somewhere quiet. it didn't even have to be in monaco. max would happily pack up his racing sim gear and his cats, and move to anywhere you desired. he hoped that you two could be a family.

to come home after a triple header and see you and nico. the boy looked so much like him. those round cheeks, those wide eyes. the excitement on the track and his need to be close to his mother (you). it screamed a young max, but max wanted to be a better father. he wanted to be present, he wanted to be there for his son.

he groaned, "please, please. let me into your little family." he kissed as your larger breasts and moved against you. the pleasure was deep inside of him. to have you once more felt like a dream.

you held onto his short hair for a moment, you groaned a little bit as you felt the immense heat between you two. you leaned down and kissed him on the head with such tenderness. this wasn't the kind of sex you had all that time ago, this was something more softer. more gentle. less like a means to an end, and more like you two were becoming familiar with each other's bodies again.

"you look perfect," he said lowly, "i'm surprised you hadn't picked uo a husband after all the time." he held on a little tighter and worked your body against him. the pleasure shot through the both of you which only spurred you on the move faster.

your bucked your hips against his, you felt the inferno in your belly as you held his face and kissed him once more. if he wanted to be in nico's life then you'd allow it. you'd let max be involved, be the father he wanted to be. you thought his trophies were more important, but seeing him, his eagerness to be in nico's life made you realize that he wanted a family, a home. you kissed him once more as the two of you thrusted against one another.

you knew racing would always pull you back in eventually. it had that effect on people. it was infectious, even tucked away in your domestic life. you still sat on the couch with your rambunctious toddler and watched the races at odd hours.

"why do you want a life with me and nico, you could have any-"

"i don't want to hear it. nico deserves a father and you deserve a loving partner... hell, maybe even a husband." he said with total conviction as he moved against you. the pleasure felt like it was going to boil over soon.

you moved against him, eagerness in your movements. you couldn't think of anymore things to prevent max from being part of your family. your movements staggered and you felt the pleasure bloom into something more. you hissed, "fuck," while you moved against him. you felt the inferno in your soul, the need for him in ways you didn't need any other man.

this was the father of your son, and you carried feelings for him just as you carried nico. the combination of you two, the affection you had for one another in a brief moment. it was something you wanted to expand on. you wanted to love max verstappen.

you held onto the father of your child. you came around his cock and arched your back. you felt the fury of lust through your body as you moved against him. you laid a heavy kiss on his lips as your pussy clenched around his cock, "fuck." you said, words muffled by the kiss. max wrapped his strong arms around you and moved against you further. you felt his cock nudge against some of your softest areas and it made you toes curl through climax.

he groaned into the kiss and continued to move against you. a few more heavy strokes and he finished inside of you. he practically melted against you and you smiled against his lips with affection. his brain felt swamped with emotion as he said, "i love you."

and without thinking you replied, "i love you too, max." then kissed him once more with total affection for one another.

max swallowed as he held you as you slowed your pace to a stop. he craned his neck to press his cheek against your soft stomach, "don't leave again... please."

"max." you panted and combed your fingers through his hair. he held onto you tighter as if you were going to slip away.

he said, in a tone you never thought you could hear from a world champion, "don't.. don't leave." this was supposed to be simple. max was a means to a child, but he wanted to be in nico's life. he wanted to be a father.

you wrapped your arms around him and held him close to your abdomen. you exhaled deeply and said, "i don't want to pressure you into being a father... if you're going to be in his life, you're going all in. he needs stability."

max lifted his head to look at you. those blue eyes dazzled in the low light of his hotel room. he held onto you a little tighter, not enough to bruise however. he said, "i'm all in. you, me, and nico." like a promise.

maybe it was the post-orgasm hormones or maybe because you became a tad more in touch with your emotions after having a child. but when max said that, you cried.

-

"go nico! go, go!!!" you shouted as your nine year old sailed past the finish line in first place and you broke into a grin. your husband wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close into a kiss. you laughed into the kiss and said to your husband, "oh man. ow, ow. okay, okay!" you looked down at your swollen middle, "someone isn't happy about the excitement."

"sorry there, little one." max's hand rubbed your swollen middle. his wedding band gleamed in the afternoon light. you were welcoming a son in four months and could already feel the commotion of racing.

you smiled at max for a moment before your son got out of the cart and you were moving as fast as you could to greet him. with his helmet off, you cupped your son's chubby cheeks. he was looking more like max every day, but smashed records the way you did.

you were soon a family of four. you didn't live in your home country and max had moved away from monaco when you got married. max was a good father, as he picked up nico with ease.

"you did amazing, nico. good job!" he beamed at the little boy and the boy beamed back at him. you knew that people shouldn't have children to heal a part of themselves. you learned that when you were pregnant the first time. but when max gave praise to your son, he was giving the young boy the support he never got. that if nico was going to eventually end up in formula one, it wasn't going to be the way that max was brought up.

he'd do it right.

stern when he needed to be. you'd both push nico to be the best, but also give him the love a wide-eyed, chubby cheeked boy needed. and as you leaned down as best as you could to kiss your son on the cheek. you felt like a family. it felt like home.

you were confident that you could've raised both nico and your future son by yourself. but it was an adventure you'd rather share with max. <3

[deadghosy]

Do you know about the Welcome Home fandom? So what about Wally Darling!Reader?

HAZBIN HOTEL X WALLY DARLING! READER

prompt: you are a greeter of the hazbin hotel! Who knew a muppet looking demon could be so colorful.

You are so soft spoken! Like that soft voice you have can hypnotize anyone into doing anything.

“hello, welcome to the hazbin hotel. i’m your greeter.” You say with a “:D” face

You’re so colorful and you’re definitely shorter than Lucifer…i can see Lucifer picking you up like a damn doll at times as you just smile with your muppet ass smile.

You’re just TOO DAMN CUTEEE! 🦆💗 literally even husk grumbles and gives you apples by the bar for you to stop giving him those doe eyes you give him when you are needy for apples.

I feel because of your muppet look, it would bring attention to yourself as a muppets looking demon is quite rare around the pentagram city, or even hell itself as Lucifer and Charlie have a muppet or Marionette look. 

Literally you are friends with Lucifer because of it and he finds your muppet look adorable. Even with your 3 ft height. (Yes I looked up his height and damn he short as hell!😭)

You are just chilling after greeting some new sinners in the hotel as you read the news paper, Lucifer comes out of no where. Dead ass reads the newspaper trying to understand your likes and dislikes.

“Lu-Lu?” You said softly as Lucifer awkwardly smiles and does finger guns at you. “Oh what a coincidence? What are you doing here..?” He says awkwardly as he sweatdrops at his attempt to start a conversation with you. “I live here?” You said raising a brow sitting down the newspaper.

“Oh I do too! What a very crazy thing?!” He says pointing his finger at himself as he poofs away in embarrassment as you just sat there…..*cue in pure confusion*

Alastor would not hate you because you are colorful, lemme be realistic. You two would be mutuals. Not like “oh I hate you but you are cool” type shit. I mean you two are the people who wave at each other but never approach each other because you don’t know if they like you fr. 🥲

One time a sinner had shoulder bumped you on purpose thinking you wasn’t gonna do anything…BUT NAH! YOU GRABBED THAT MF BY HIS NECK AS A SHADOW COVERS YOUR FACE, only leaving your eyes showing as you kick they ass out. You ain’t dealin' with no bullshit at this establishment. And for your friend’s sake.

Angel likes to play with makeup with your face since it’s calling out for his makeup kit. Literally he does blue eyeshadow on you.

I headcannon you wear blue eyeshadow just like how Wally’s eyelid is blue up there. Dead ass it would be cute if it was just blue eye shadow and you had a natural blush on your cheeks. You are quite beautiful reader💗😘

Since Angel is a drag queen, he would also try to make you wear drag queen makeup only for you to sneeze at how much product he used…yeah he never used it on your face.

You’re beautiful natural anyway…just don’t sneeze in his face. Ever again.

You definitely look like you listen to 1970-80’s jazz music as you dance in the lobby with Alastor nodding along happy. Just two jazz buddies liking jazz.

I can imagine Charlie trying to hold you back from eating the fruit gift basket for the guests…you’re only aiming for the damn apples as your mouth was drooling for it.

Imagine Vox has you on his channel because he brided you with apples. He stalked you through your tv you had that has rainbows and apples on it-

Well anyways Alastor “recused” you because you just sat there “begging” to be saved is what he saved when you munched on an apple confused by why Alastor came to take you away from Vox.

If you and Lucifer hung out doing hobbies together, which he suggested. You’re panting a portrait as he makes a duck based off of you….he can’t help but show affection of making you a duck version of yourself.

Niffty and you definitely get along well as hell! As you two have the same fashion taste as you both will dance to the genre of music you guys like.

With you being the greeter, you always have a soft smile and a soft approach to make the guest and residents feel safe in the hotel.

Sir Pentious will absolutely admire you…like a friend crush. He just wants to be your friend but you are too pure to approach as he thinks he won’t be cool enough to be your friend.

Imagine Valentino seeing you shopping and he tried to approach you only for a red smoke to cover you as you blinked confused to see an overprotective Lucifer smiling at you as you had teleported to the hotel. But with Lucifer, you could see his real feelings as you felt confused.

After a few months you and Pentious became friends because of one of his egg boiz named Frank said his “boss” wants to be friends with you. You giggled and nodded as you and sir Pentious do trust exercises together when Charlie host them.

Husk had dilated eyes and purr at you because you scratched under his chin which made him snap out of his cat daze and slap your hand as you giggle with a soft gaze.

I headcannon Velvette to be your girl who makes your outfits in primary colors. Like that or just cute aesthetic kid core fits. 💗‼️

I can see how reader always gives balloons to sinners who had trouble reliving their childhood. So they give balloons out to the sinners who had childhood trauma. You are a greeter, and a hell of a good one. 🦆💗

Imagine how Wally! Reader has those safety pins that say “Welcome!” And it’s so cute because you made them a t hand and Lucifer saw his you had effort in it so he made you more to give out to the guests.

I feel like Valentino will try to get you under his contract so he can use your pretty look since you seem like a femboy….but really you’re just a little guy who likes apples and his friends.

YOU’RE ONLY 12 APPLES TALL! 😨

But the hazbin crew literally cockblock him to the point he just stops doing he was trying to do to you.

I can see Lucifer trying to impress you at times as he never has a friend that had a cute appearance like you so your blank eye stare always catches him off as you just stand there smiling so adorably.

I headcannon waking up to find an apple by your night stand as a note reads “hope you like the apple, my angel!”- Lu-Lu. You just blinked at the apple completely ignoring the note and eating the apple as you smile at the taste.

“…yummy apppleee….” You say until you open your eyes looking at the note. “Wait what.”

You had gave Lucifer back an apple basket with rubber ducks that had painted apples not it for your appreciation of the apples he gave you 

[bo0tleg]

One thing I like about Top Gun (1986) is how believable the development with Ice and Mav's dynamic is.

I've seen a lot of the "Rivals suddenly become buddies after traumatic event together" in media, but I don't think I've seen it done better than in Top Gun. Mostly, I attribute it to how much build up it has.

Most of the time, the 'Rivals' hate each others guts throughout the entire movie/series and then they go through an extremely traumatic event that binds them for life and shifts their entire concept of each other. Ice and Mav never once changed how they saw each other, it just changed their understanding of it.

Ice saw Maverick as dangerous and Mav saw Iceman as stuck-up and commanding. And they weren't wrong, by any means.

From the beginning, they have tension between them because of how different they are. And it ends up in the audience seeing Ice as the 'Antagonist' because that's how Mav sees it, and we're seeing it from his perspective as the protagonist. But Ice was never inherently wrong, in fact he was right.

Other than his first scene, Iceman always has a point in what he's saying. He's criticizing Mav, not insulting him. Sure, he does it in a brash way because masculinity, but he's not trying to insult him, he's trying to knock him down a peg and wake him up to reality. All Ice wants is that he starts to act as a team player, start caring about everybody's safety AND his own, rather than being reckless for the sake of being reckless. But Mav sees it as an insult because he can't process criticism in a healthy way (due to how he grew up). The same thing happened with Charlie, for the record.

And so the strife between the two begins. What I like about it is how it bleeds out of them over time, becoming more settled as the movie goes on. In the locker room "You're dangerous" scene, the tension is palpable. It's obvious they're agitated by each other, and feel the need to prove they're the correct one.

If you pay attention, this whole... demand for superiority goes away as time progresses. They're fine with each other's presence, it's not like they're constantly at each others throat all the time. In the shower scene, Ice dropped all of the aggression and competitiveness from his tone and is instead just laying out what he thinks. He's not undermining Maverick, he's not lecturing him like a child. Iceman is just telling Maverick exactly how he sees the situation in hopes that it would make him realize what the fuck he's doing, but with little hope that it'll actually work.

That doesn't mean Ice is always correct either, he doesn't understand why Mav acts the way he does, thus fails to take into consideration the emotional trauma behind it. Which only causes even more strife.

The entire time, Iceman isn't being a dick for the sake of it, he just wants Mav to stop being stupid (by his standards). And Maverick doesn't understand it because all he gets from what Ice says is insults.

Maverick isn't good at understanding what people mean to say if it's implied, you need to say it to his face. This is the reason he stayed quiet in the shower scene, because Ice finally laid everything out in simple words that he can understand without making it sound like a dick-measuring contest.

Thing is, the tension mellows out. At the beginning, you could see the tension and cut it with a knife. By the middle you can see them getting used to each other without jumping to constantly trade jabs (namely: the volleyball scene, it's just a bunch of guys being dudes, and the scene where Charlie says that Mav flew recklessly in front of the whole class, Ice doesn't comment on it in any way). Over time, they've settled down into their tension without needing to address it all the time.

Then Goose dies.

And the tension between them is still there.

Just because Goose isn't there anymore, doesn't mean their whole dynamic vanishes all of a sudden. You can see their hesitation towards each other (especially Ice), and that's great! It demonstrates that Goose dying doesn't magically resolve their problems with each other in solidarity.

Ice tried to give his consolations to Mav, and is awfully awkward about it. You can see on his face that he wants to say more, but doesn't because he knows it's not his place given their history. And not much is said, but a lot it communicated. (Val Kilmer is a killer actor for this, OH MY FUCKING GOD BLESS THAT MAN)

Even in the graduation scene you can see how out of their depts they really are with each other. A stilted congratulations, that was it. But they're trying, and that's what matters.

A scene I think gets overlooked a lot is the scene right before the Layton, where Ice expressed his worries about Mav to Stinger, and Mav heard him. Because I feel like that was a shift that was more drastic than the Layton itself for them.

What Ice was doing in that scene wasn't doubting Maverick's flying abilities, it was his mental health. Sure, he passed the psych eval, but that means next to jack shit when in a real combat situation so close after his backseater dying. And Ice might be worried that he's gonna be left hanging, but with the way he was speaking I'm more inclined to believe he was more worried about Maverick's wellbeing than himself. Ice almost looked resigned. He knew it was gonna get dismissed because that's the military for you, but he still wanted to try to vouch for Mav to stay groundside, if only to keep his mind at bay.

But Maverick heard him, and as usual, he read it as an insult. He wasn't wrong to assume Ice didn't believe him capable of flying the mission, which wouldn't be a lie, but failed to realize that he had more than one reason to want Maverick on the ground rather than in the air. And for the first time, Maverick believes him.

Up until this point, Mav dismissed all of Ice's so called 'insults' because he was certain in and of himself. But now he isn't anymore.

And it affects his performance in the air. I'm not saying he was as shitty as he was at the start of that combat because of what he overheard, but I am saying that it certainly didn't help matters in the slightest.

So their weird 'stepping-on-eggshells' situation is all over the place by that point. Because they started to care about each other despite not being what one would call proper friends yet. It's establishing a potential friendship by implying that 1. Ice cares about Mav's wellbeing and 2. Mav cares about what Ice thinks.

On the ground, they have the wingman exchange, and their suddenly buddy buddy. Thing is, it wasn't sudden at all.

They've been setting this up the entire fucking movie.

Going back to what I said at the beginning: Ice thinks Mav is dangerous and Mav thinks Ice is stuck-up and controlling. After the Layton, they still think those things because they weren't wrong to begin with. What changed was that instead of seeing it as something that pitted them against each other, it was seen as something that simply was about the other, and that there was no changing it. It could be good.

Mav being dangerous could be good and Ice being stuck-up and controlling could be good, because those were just traits of who they were. By the end of the movie they didn't change how they saw each other, just how they interpreted each other.

And it was built up during the entire fucking movie.

There was a reason to why they acted the way they did with each other because of the stilted interpretation they had of each other. From rivalry to friendship (and perhaps more later down the line), it's glaringly obvious throughout that it wasn't a sudden shift, it was exponential.

That's why I think it was so well developed, because you could see it coming.

[lanadelreyscokewhor3]

THE DRIVE- L. HOWLETT

Pairing- Older! Logan x Mutant! Fem! Reader (Enemies to Lovers)

Word Count: 2.6k (an introduction to the series)

Summary: After being put on the goverments watchlist for being an "unsafe" mutant, Logan 'jumps' (tackles) to the rescue, taking you to the X-Mansion. However, you and Logan do not get along... at all.

Warnings: mentions of violence and guns, swearing, logan and y/n not getting along, crying, reader kinda thristing over logan (as one does)

**authors note/ things to note: this may not be lore accurate/ canon because i haven't watched the x-men movies since i was younger, so its roughly based off what i can kinda remember hehe. y/n has jean greys powers, and jean does not exist in this universe, this is nemies to lovers- but a slowww burn :)

"all this sympathy is just a knife, why I can't even grit my teeth and lie? ifeel all these feelings i can't control..."- sympathy is a knife, charli xcx

“I don’t like you.” you stated plainly, crossing your arms with a huff. This was the most blunt you had been with anyone, ever. But you couldn’t help it.

You had known Logan Howlett now for an hour, and it was an hour you would never get back.

“You’re not s’possed to like me kid. You’re supposed to listen to me, which you’re failing miserably at.” the older man growled, barely looking over at you from the driver's seat. His hands tightened on the steering wheel, knuckles turning white as he slammed down on the gas.

You were thankful in that moment seatbelts were invented.

You bet ten dollars Logan was around when they came up with the idea.

He was an asshole.

He was tasked with the mission to get you to safety- as you were a “rogue” quote on quote mutant as the public called your kind. It made your head spin, not only from Logan’s driving but the sheer weight of it all.

One morning you were pouring your orange juice, the next the national guard was surrounding your house, and a man who happened to have claws shoot out of his knuckles had dived and tackled you as the gunfire started.

Now you were here, in an old rusty truck- speeding down a back road through the woods with an old man who seemed to hate everything. On the run, on your way to the mutant academy- to start over, and to learn how to control your powers.

Or so you hoped.

Logan wasn’t making the trip there very pleasant though.

“I’m listening to you. And even if I wasn’t- do you blame me?! After what just happened I don’t know- maybe an hour ago?!” you rolled your eyes, glaring at him hard enough to leave laser beams through his skin.

“You’re a mutant. Get used to it.”

“Get used to it?!”

He shrugged. “That’s what I said, ain’t it bub? I was tasked to take care of you and get you to safety, so I’m doing that. Doesn’t mean you have to like me.”

You huffed, staring out the window at the trees that blurred together, dark leaves falling on the ground as you whipped by. “I don’t like you.”

“Yeah, I picked up on that kid.”

“I’m not a kid, you know.”

He snorted, running a hand through his tousled hair. “Sure.” It was silent in the car for a few minutes, minus the crackly radio, the station starting to cut out as you ventured deeper into the woods.

You leaned forward, turning it off. Silence.

“So… are you actually two hundred?” you asked meekly, darting your eyes over to stare at him. Even if he was a dick, he was handsome as hell. You couldn’t even deny that.

“Don’t you know it’s rude to ask someone their age?” he mocked.

“Sorry, I forgot elders were sensitive to that kind of thing. Let me know if you need help getting your walker from the back.” you snapped back, as he showed teeth at you- growling.

Good. Piss him off as much as you could, so when you got to the academy he would leave you alone.

He muttered something under his breath, something about how kids these days have no respect (despite you very much not being a child), and you tuned out.

With a sigh, you leaned your head against the window, the events of today taking a toll on your body. You looked up at the clouds rolling by, until they faded away to black.

------------------------------------------------------

Strong arms carried you, and you curled into the warmth they provided, hands clinging to a rock hard chest. You yawned, savouring the rocking motion, until it stopped.

Your eyes fluttered open, blinking quickly as you adjusted to the dimming light. It was dark out, stars replacing the clouds from earlier- and two dark orbs stared at you intensely.

You squeaked, stumbling down to your feet, backing away from Logan quickly.

“Good morning.” he smirked at your sudden reaction, your frown lines deeply etched in your forehead compared to how they were a few seconds previous.

“What are you doing?!”

“Walking you to our room.”

Your eyes nearly popped out of your head.

“Our room?! And I can walk by myself, thank you very much.” He snorted, jangling the keys in his pocket. “Really? I didn’t know you could sleep walk.”

“Don’t be a dick.”

“Can’t. Already tried.” he said, unlocking the door with a click. 106 was scrawled across the wooden door, and the strong smell of lemon cleaning supplies nearly suffocated you as he stepped inside.

He must have stopped at a motel somewhere along the route- in the middle of nowhere. It was older, not as old as him- but aged. It must have been quiet, you assumed- because Logan didn’t seem like the type of guy to willingly choose to be around people, especially not when on the run.

As shitty as the situation was, you were thankful for a place to sleep, and for a proper bed. The car seatbelt and window was not very comfortable, your neck aching from it rolling down during your nap.

You stepped inside, noting the very obvious couples room, a large bed in the middle of the room, with no pull out couch. You gulped.

“I’ll take the floor.” you stated, as he closed and locked the door behind you. Unease lingered in your stomach.

Please god, do not make me sleep with the Wolverine. I do not have the strength, nor patience today.

“Don’t be stupid girl.” And that was that. He shrugged off his jacket, tossing it on a little table, flickering on a little side lamp.

You were stunned into silence. You tried so hard not to look.

So. Damn. Hard.

But his muscles were on display, so much so they might as well be their own art exhibit.

His white tank top clinged to his tan skin tightly, and you watched his muscles flex, dog tags jangling on his chest as he snagged a pillow from the bed and tossed it on the floor.

You quickly looked away before he caught you staring, and taunted you for it.

“I’m going to shower.”

No reply. You bit your lip, turning around quietly and tugged your skirt down as you walked in the bathroom and shut the door.

No amount of scrubbing of the shit hotel loofa could get the grime of the day off your skin- soap foaming as quickly as it sputtered down the drain. You tried to stay in the shower as long as you could- dreading the awkwardness that the night would entail- but soon the water turned ice cold.

Shivering, you rinsed off your hair, cranking the taps until water dripped faintly. Wiping the mirror, you stared at yourself in the reflection.

A long scratch darted up your neck, little ones dotting across your arm. You wished you had Logan’s healing abilities. They were ugly, harsh and jagged- standing out like a sore thumb.

You hoped your pjs covered it, you thought, as you wrapped a thin towel across your body, acting as a corset the way it caused your breasts to pop.

Then it hit you. You didn’t have pjs. You didn’t have anything but the clothes on your back (bathroom floor).

Fuck. Could this get any worse?

Not only did you have to sleep in the same room as Logan, you had to ask him for clothes?! Taking a deep breath, you opened the door a sliver, its loud creak echoing throughout the entire room.

“Uh… Logan?”

“Mhgm.”

You poked your head out, eyes darting to survey the space- seeing your bed untouched, long legs poking out from the other end on the floor.

“I- uh.. kinda forgot pjs.”

Nothing, and then a loud laugh emerged from him, his body shaking from the sheer sound of it. “Course you did kid. Here.” he tossed a black t-shirt your way, and it landed on the carpet with a plop.

It would be massive on you, you could already tell- but it was something. Usually you had to go on a few dates and sleep with a guy a few times before you got to this stage. Not an option this time.

You quickly stepped out and grabbed it before he could look up at your (barely) covered body, shrugging it on in the bathroom.

It smelt like him, like whisky and smoke, cider and fresh cut grass. It was comforting, in this moment of chaos. You breathed in the fabric, resting your head against the wall.

Your lip wobbled, hot, salty tears slipping down your cheeks as you gasped for air.

It hurt. Everything hurts.

You were exhausted, hungry and more anxious and overwhelmed than anything. The shock had started to fade, your hands had started to shake and you couldn’t help but break down.

You didn’t care if Logan heard you. The tears continued to fall, body heaving as sobs tore through your body. How was life so unfair? So cruel? Things had changed so fast- and you hadn’t asked for your abilities. You didn’t even know how to control them yet.

But that was what made you dangerous to the government. You thought, growing even more angry with yourself. But how was it your fault?

It made you sick. You just wanted to go home, lay in your own bed and eat your own food, to see your friends and go to work. You never thought those words would leave your lips- but it was true. It was routine, and it was normal.

You felt normal, when you were filing paperwork, talking on the phone to clients. As boring as it could be at times, it was steady.

And now?

You were bouncing around like a ping-pong ball. A coin had been flipped, your fate plastered on either side- and you had lost the draw. Taking a shaky breath, you attempted to regain your composure before facing the judgemental beast outside.

Your eyes were puffy, cheeks sticky and warm with drying tears. Wiping your face, you found the courage to slink back into the main room, flicking off the side lamp Logan had left on. If he had to shower, he could find his way in the dark.

You were sure he could see in the dark- all wolves could- couldn’t they?

Slouching into bed, you gripped the thin sheets tightly- cocooning yourself to try and stay warm. The air was on full blast, despite it being chill outside- and you assumed you had Logan to thank for that.

Great. I’m going to get hypothermia before I even get to the fucking school.

“Do you have to have the air on full blast?” you asked, looking over the side of the bed, watching as Logan crankly peered an eye open.

“Yes.”

“Well could you I don’t know, survey the scene and see it’s cold outside already?”

He huffed.

“I’m warm. I’m always warm.”

“Well that’s not my problem. Be considerate wolf.” you rolled your eyes, hugging the sheets tighter to your body.

“Deal with it kid. It’s staying on- if you don’t like it, sleep outside.”

Well that made you sit up.

“You’re such a dick.”

“Yeah getting a motel room and letting you have the bed- real dick move eh?”

You huffed, gritting your teeth together. This man was pushing your buttons more than they had ever been pushed before. You hated how much he got under your skin. It was like you had your own set of claws, that only he could set off.

“Well I shouldn’t even be in this situation.”

“Yeah we all think that. Shut up and sleep.” he growled, rolling over to face away from the bed.

“You could at least have some respect.”

That was all you asked for, anyways. You had shown him it even when you were in deaths way, thankful for him for saving you. He didn’t show an ounce of it back.

“I’m not giving you any sympathy, if that’s what your asking.”

It felt like a knife had stabbed you in the back, twisting your insides. You whipped up again, throwing a pillow at his face.

“I’m not asking for your fucking sympathy you old piece of shit!” you yelled, earning nothing but silence in return.

He was over you.

Fine. You could do the exact same thing- but better.

Turning your back to him (a dangerous thing to do, you thought), you squeezed your eyes shut and listened to the hum of the air conditioning unit.

Not long after, the weight of the day pulled you back under the waves of sleep again.

--------------------------------------------------

“Wake up kid.” a gruff voice called out to you, a firm hand shaking you. You awoke with a start, blinking until the room came into focus.

Two beaded eyes stared at you narrowly from above you, rolling as you mumbled. It was still dark out, as no light showed through the thin curtains.

The clock read 5:00 and you sighed.

“Breakfast on the table. Get dressed and we’re leaving.”

“Good morning to you too.” you grumbled, rubbing sleep out of your eye. A very stale looking muffin sat on the table, next to Logan’s black coffee.

“Why are you feeding me?” you asked, walking over to take a dry bite. You were famished. Eating anything completely slipped your mind.

“Because Charles would kill me if I didn’t. I said I’d look after you. You can’t starve.”

“Jeez I thought that was the plan all along.”

It tasted like sand in your mouth as you took a bite. You were grateful for it, nonetheless. “I never said I wanted you to starve.” he grumbled to himself, taking a long sip from his mug.

“It was heavily implied.” you spat, turning over the mini coffee bar, finding a kettle and a bag of earl grey. You waited for the water to come to a boil, the kettle screaming at you while you poured it.

You were ready for this day to be over and it hadn’t even begun yet. You had a feeling you would have to get used to it- or else it would eat you alive.

Just like how Logan looked right now- like he’d tear your limbs from you and chew them. You wouldn’t put it past him.

“When you finish that we’re leaving. You got five minutes.” he said, grabbing the truck keys from the table. “Five minutes? I haven’t even had a chance to wake up yet!”

“Too bad. We gotta go kid.” He slammed the door hard behind him, rattling the frame as he unlocked the vehicle.

“Don’t let the door hit you on the way out, asshole.” you mumbled under your breath, chugging down the rest of your tea as fast as you could. If you were back home you would have the morning to lounge around in a bathrobe, sipping your tea slowly with a book and some fresh fruit.

The odd time you would use your powers to move the toast to the toaster, or to move your slippers to your feet. But that was no longer the case.

The tea tasted bitter as you chugged it, burning your throat. You shrugged on yesterday's clothes, running into the bathroom to splash cold water on your face.

The front door swung open and before Logan could protest- you bolted out the room. “I’m out, I’m out. Jesus.” Scrambling to the front seat, you watched as Logan glared over his shoulder, slamming the door.

It was going to be an extremely long drive.

[signedkoko]

MMM OKAY OKAY OKAY the brainrot is getting to me and I adore you’re writing, so forgive me if this a bit all over the place!!

Might I order some headcanons (or a full oneshot, if you want ofc) for Alastor and Vox (separate) with a gn partner who is a martial art fiend and seems mostly powerless, but is sort of like a siren? As in, not only can they put subtle amount of power into their voice when talking to persuade or disorient someone, but they can also do a Banshee type scream!

Thank you so much and have a wonderful day/night!

Alastor | Vox X Reader [Romantic]

In which your powers aren't all that obvious to the naked eye, and is hidden in your voice. Reader is genderneutral.

You were just another face at the Hazbin Hotel

You helped with anything Charlie, asked, much like an assistant, and focused plenty on the decoration of the hotel

From what he saw, you really weren't much to be cornered about

That in itself concerned him

Every demon had their abilities, but according to you and the others, you were just a normal sinner

But no normal sinner would end up in a place like this for no reason

Alastor always pushed, joked, and teased you about being powerless, almost as if he were taunting you to reveal the truth—to reveal that all along you'd been lying

But you never broke

Not like he minded all that much; you were still lovely to be around, and you weren't as much of a mess as everyone else that wandered the dreary hotel

Even as the two of you grew closer than close, you never gave so much as a hint

He could tell you had something hidden, but at this point he was convinced it was your past or something else beyond your abilities

Until the day a group of demons attacked, looking for him

You'd never been overly protective of the overlord; Alastor could handle himself and hundreds of others at once if he needed to

But they were threatening the hotel, your friends, and your lover

So you stopped Alastor in his tracks, opening a window by the front door and shoving your front half out

The sound that ensued was nothing short of horrifying

Like thousands of layers of screaming voices begging to be released became unchained, and each individual in front of you collapsed

Some had bleeding ears; others were running in desperation as the chorus of voices continued to echo in their minds

Thankfully, you were a great target, because when you turned around, everyone in the hotel was fine

Well, fine in terms of hearing, but they did not look mentally well

Alastor laughs it off and claps, citing how he obviously knew all along that you were so powerful

You'll be in for a long night of explaining to him everything you were hiding

You didn't like to show off your ability that much

It was horrifying and could damage a lot of people if you didn't consider your words carefully enough

So you only sang; it held a bit of power behind it, but at the very least it didn't harm anyone

It just caught attention and helped you get through another day in hell

Singing is what led to you meeting Vox, who frequented the club where you sang on some evenings

He hired you to sing at the club the Vees owned, which meant you ran into him a lot more often and got along extremely well

You revealed your ability to him, but swore off ever using it against people unless necessary

What did he care? Ability or not, you did a great job on stage, and that was all he asked of you as a friend and partner

One evening, during one of your performances which he attended, someone broke into the club

They had guns, and they looked ready to shoot

What else could you have done when they beelined towards Vox?

" Die. "

Your voice came through the mic crystal clear, and in a moment everyone holding guns dropped straight to the floor

There was no pulse, and that evening Vox learned a lot more about you than he had previously

When you are finally private and he has the chance to say anything

" Listen, dear, light of my life—that was hot as fuck, but my patrons are scared shitless right now. "

Author's Note - I love these two, they are too cocky to have an s/o with cool powers but thats okay... Thank you so much for requesting, Damien!!! Love seeing you around 🖤

[libraryraccoon]

I was wondering how a Dazai!Reader from BSD (preferably 15 year old Dazai) would interact with the HH crew

Btw, I love your stuff sm, have a lovely day if you see this!

Gender : GN

Pronouns : None

Info : I haven't watched BSD for a long time, so it's probably wrong/inaccurate, sorry. Reader have 15 years old.

Message fom Raccoon : What ? Dad!Lucifer ? Dad!Alastor ? Okay, take that Dad!Husk !

TW : Suicide (mentionned); SH (mentionned)

General Headcanon

Finally.

After all this years of trying, after all this attempts, you were finally dead !

And what do we do when we have achieved such a feat ? We drink until the morning !

As you drank, you recounted your feat of finally dying to the bartender, some sort of cat-bird demon.

He gave you a judgmental look when you told him you were 15 and died of suicide.

But you were used to it, people often judge you while you were alive and was trying every second to die.

After a few hours, you were drunk and followed the bartender back to his place, a small apartment in a quiet corner of Hell.

You shouldn't follow someone to their home, you know that, but for your defense, you were drunk and he was a cat. And you have a weakness for cats.

Two things making it impossible to refuse his invitation.

And, if anything ever went wrong, you always had your gun with you, which had appeared at the same time as you in Hell.

The bartender's name was Husk and he kind of adopted you ? You weren't even sure if one sinner could adopt another sinner.

Life was calm with Husk, and you somehow helped him with his work.

By that I mean you were stopping the powers of other demons with your power, so you used it to kick out all the assholes who attacked him from the bar.

You and Husk had this dynamic of "Father who will kill for his child & Child who will sacrifice themselves for their father."

And then, one day you had to move to the Hazbin Hotel because Husk find a work there.

Alastor was surprised to see that Husk now had a kid–he didn't think it was possible for an alcoholic like him to have a child.

And he learned that Husk had cut down on his drinking, so he could be a better father.

*very kindly and not at all suspiciously notes this fact in the back of his mind.*

The hotel was quite shocked to know that you were a child from a fucking mafia and that you had died of suicide at 15 years old. If Husk hadn't informed them about that, they never would have suspected it.

Your humor worries them more than anything else.

Charlie is worry every time you make jokes about suicide while your dad rolls his eyes at it.

Husk was used to your jokes after a few months of living together.

The hotel wasn't.

Charlie is like your older sister, optimistic and a little naive at times.

She always tries to make you see the bright side of things and to make you forget this idea of double death.

Spoiler : it doesn't work.

Lucifer sees you like one of his children.

He spoils you like he spoiled Charlie when she was just a child.

Husk often makes side eyes at him, accusing him of trying to steal his child.

And that was true.

Lucifer, Charlie, Husk and Angel Dust are the ones who are the most concerned about your mental health.

Alastor wanted to make you sign a contract "I become powerful and Alastor releases my father from his contract in exchange of stopping trying to kill myself."

You didn't sign it.

Alastor tried to use you to spy on Vox and the Vees because he was bored and wanted some entertainment.

It worked.

Alastor do radio shows with you sometimes, you two are called "The RadioDuo".

His audience LOVES you.

You gained Alastor some listeners btw.

You help Niffty with her work at the Hotel.

Even if Charlie said you didn't have to do it, you do it anyway.

Vaggie take all your guns because you apparently “didn’t need” them.

You managed to recover them with a little manipulation.

Angel Dust could see himself in you.

You reminded him of his little human self, Anthony, broken by the world and wanting to end it. A family running the Mafia and forcing him to join it.

You're a bit like him, but compared to him, who fought to survive, had a reason to survive, you had nothing, no reason to fight, and you gave up.

When Angel Dust isn't working, he usually stays with you and Husk.

He doesn't want to abandon you, leave you alone in such a rotten world. He wants you to be protected and to be the child you never could be.

He will never let anyone touch you, never.

Husk and Angel Dust are usually the ones who bandage you after SH, Angel Dust doesn't say anything as he does it, because he understands. Husk doesn't speak as well, but you can see that by doing so he's blaming himself, making you instantly regret it.

Don't try to kill yourself in front of them, please. They're already worried enough, don't add more.

Hotel Hazbin was, in a way, your family.

And you would kill everyone in this room before killing yourself before anything happened to them.

[chaoxfix]

okay so according to the prequel comic where angel dust first meets vaggie and charlie, we KNOW that angel was trying to change the terms of his contract and at least occasionally get a break from SA and abuse by selling drugs and maybe being a hitman as well. this didn’t work out for him and he was given a pretty fuckin rough punishment instead — but it DOES show that angel already was trying to make changes. that’s part of why, imo, he was more willing than most to take charlie up on her idea. and partially because the terms and free rent were fuckin ideal for someone whose soul is only under total control when he’s actually physically in the studio. giving him a different place to live, for free, immediately gave him breathing room and more opportunity to heal and improve than almost anything else could have. but again — he was already looking for a change.

i know there’s a million overlord husk AUs and some are goddamn gorgeous, but i always think they lean really far into the pretty woman trope. which, again, yeah angel seems like he was damn near written for. but usually they don’t let us see just how ruthless husk could be as an overlord. i think a fun twist would be, (if as per the usual au, husk wins angels soul in a game of poker) husk lets angel revise his contract to be a drug runner or hitman instead. again — the thing he was already trying to do with valentino. maybe angel would argue for a mix of his usual schtick too, whatever, but imo i think he’d had his fill of sex work by then bc he’d spent decades with it being abusive and soulcrushing.

anyway, if you want to give angel back his agency and remove him from the more direct source of trauma, i’ve never seen anyone do an overlord husk au like that but i think it could be a fun twist on the idea. more importantly PLEASE give that twink a gun. he loves them.

[lightofthemoonglow]

kinktober day seven and eight

Virginity | Waxplay | Stuck in Wall

Breeding | Gore | Master & Slave

third person reader because that is how it turned out oops

Sequel here

Thomas Hewitt

The day had finally come.

The wedding dress is older than the bride. The bride is considered an adult in every part of the world, in basically every sense. And yet she still wears a dress that Luda Mae had brought for herself a long time ago, back when she had hopes for a whole other life that had never come to pass. It’s obvious why she’s doing this, but it’s harmless in comparison to everything else about the situation.

One interaction had been all it had taken for this deal to be worked out. The bride had come from a family of carnival workers that had passed through Travis County that had decided to stick around, her mother becoming friendly with Luda Mae despite the two of them living seemingly very different lives. All the girl had done was shyly ask Tommy about his job at the slaughterhouse as she offered him a bowl of the chili she had brought over. This was some good meat. I bet you had something to do with it. And Luda Mae had noticed the shift in her son’s body language, how he wasn’t as on guard as he normally was for a moment.

It had started as joke between the two mothers. And then they had started seriously discussing it. It made sense. The pool of candidates was already small and neither of their children were exactly…popular. The bride had struggled to finish school after fighting tooth and nail to get in. Thomas had dropped out. Their families were already close. And then, the tornado happened, killing the bride’s father. It was as good a time as any, they had figured. The town was dying slowly, the writing was on the wall. They needed to make it happen before the bride left town for good.

And so, they had wound up in the backyard of the house, the town preacher pronouncing the young couple man and wife, on edge due to the gun that Charlie had aimed at him, ready to pull the trigger if this marriage wound up not being true in the eyes of the lord. While he didn’t believe in that shit, Luda Mae did and his sister’s word was law in their home. The bride was a vision in antique white, her voice trembling as she said ‘I do’. Thomas only grunted in response, Charlie snapping ‘the boy damn well does!’ when the preacher tried to get the larger man to speak.

“I’m glad it’s you,” Luda Mae says to the bride after the cake has been cut and everyone is milling about the yard, the preacher nowhere to be seen. He would never be seen again, but no one would notice or care. “You always had a kind word for my boy.”

And for the first time since her hesitantly uttered vows, the bride speaks. “Of course. He’s a good boy. This was all just a little fast, Mrs. Luda Mae.” But that was intentional, something she would realize later. The mother of the bride had all but dragged her down the aisle. The woman had cried, wailed as she told her daughter that she need to do this, so she could be taken care of, implying that it wouldn’t be long until the bride’s parents were reunited.

After the party, the happy couple was led upstairs, where they were to stay all night. “I want a grandbaby by next spring,” Luda Mae instructed. It wasn’t the wistful dreaming of a woman who yearned to more little ones to spoil. Well, it was, but her tone was that of an order. They were going to grow the family, one way or another.

The room was dim, the sun peeking through the curtains. Thomas makes no move to take off his mask, choosing to just stare at his new wife as she walked towards the bed. The dress is pulled off, revealing a white slip covering her everyday undergarments. She folds it up, so it can be put away in the morning. Maybe it will even be used again one day. The sun shines down on her as she lays on the bed, waiting for him to join her.

“It’s alright. If you…want to.” She speaks softly, not approach him too closely. “I know your mama said that we have to, but I can wait.” Thomas is staring at her, watching her legs twitch slightly, fascinated by the dark peaks on her chest. Her breathing is steady, she’s not looking for an escape. Her eyes are meeting his whenever he allows it. Thomas knows what to do. He’s seen farm animals do it and Charlie had shown him a movie once, short and filthy. Luda Mae had found out about it and been cross for weeks.

The real thing is different. Thomas feels almost cornered as he tentatively touches the hem of the slip. His fingers graze her bare skin and he flinches, which makes her sit up and grab his hand.

“It’s alright, it’s alright,” she coos, stroking his hand with her thumb. “Tommy…I know neither of us exactly wanted this to happen. But if it had to be anyone, I’m glad it was you. I’ve always liked you.” His face didn’t matter to her, she didn’t care that he had to hide what had been eaten away by the sickness inside of him. He wasn’t going to kiss her, he couldn’t get to that point. Not yet.

They needed to do what was expected of them first.

It takes a while, the sun is almost gone when Thomas is finally ready to get on top of her, still mostly dress, only his nice trousers unzipped. She’s naked, comfortable with allowing him to see, to explore. Her body is warm, soft, and he’s so hard it hurts until he pulls it out of his trousers. But he doesn’t put it in, not yet. He can’t quite manage that last little bit of movement, not yet.

“It could happen, Tommy. Us havin’ a baby because of tonight.” She strokes his arm, not touching his face, not until he’s ready. And maybe that won’t be tonight. “I like the idea. Go on and feel how much, darlin’.” She spreads her legs slightly to let him know he could touch her. His prodding fingers found something warm and wet, and when he pushes, a finger slips inside. “It’s good when it’s wet like that. Means I’m excited. Like you are now.”

Another fingers joins the first and she gasps, but she doesn’t stop him. “We could make a baby tonight. You and me…” The images start coming to Thomas as he fingers explore her. His wife’s belly swollen with their child, her tits full of milk, everyone knowing that she belonged to him and only him-

He’s inside of her before he can stop himself. She gasps, grabbing onto his shoulders as his cock fills her up. Her breasts bounce as he thrusts, slow and experimental at first. “Good boy, good boy,” she whispers, her body suddenly filles with sensations she’s never felt before. Thomas is equally overwhelmed, she’s so warm and wet and good and hot and everything he’s ever wanted. She’s gripping onto him tightly, he’s in awe of the sight of himself inside of her.

Thick fingers stuff his seed back inside of her after he’s done, and he prays for the first time in years that it worked.

[sweetcocopowder]

Hello would it be ok to have a destiel fanfic with prompts "Just like we promised" and "I've missed your touch" i love ur work <3

Prompt 1 | Destiel

Synopsis: Dean has been out on a hunt for over a month and hasn't called Cas at all. He's still getting use to this whole fucking an angel thing.

Word Count: 2.9K

Pairing: Dean Winchester / Castiel

Warnings: Angst. Sappy. Smutty.

Notes: It's more than okay to want this. This was a pleasure to write and I hope you enjoy what i created! Enjoy!

The pacing became a constant thing on the fourth week. On the fifth, the nail biting had started. A bad habit he’s picked up from Sam out of all people, a nasty human habit. But the satisfaction behind it to relieve stress almost calms Cas’s nerves. He had paced from the main foyer to the kitchen to Dean’s room. Dean’s room is one of the main places that Castiel had resided.

When the sixth week came around, Cas’s nails were all chewed off and he had began picking at the skin around them. Dean was meant to call an entire week ago. No SMS either. No even a single prayer. Complete radio silence.

Sam had given Castiel Charlie’s number in case he got bored. Dean had made a comment about Charlie’s Angels. Something Cas didn’t understand until he had looked it up on his own phone later that day. But Sam had insisted yet Castiel declined saying he would be perfectly fine, for angel’s cannot feel human depths of boredom, just passing time.

One thousand and eight hours and six minutes to be exact. So, the angel isn’t bored per say, just very, deathly worried about Dean. And Sam.

The fourth day of the sixth week, the chunk and click of the bunker door snaps Castiel out of his trance in the main foyer. He stands up from where he sits at the table as laughter and voices burst into the bunker. By God is it good to hear their voices but at the same time it brings out so many bad emotions that vibrate his being and make him grind his teeth.

Sam is first to walk down the stairs, a duffle bag slung over his shoulder and a grin upon his face. When he spots the angel, his smile faulters. He tries his best to play it off but Cas sees the uncertainty.

“Oh, Castiel!” Sam says more surprised than anything, “I didn’t expect you to still be here!” He speaks as if the conversation they had over a month ago never happened. Which only -what’s that word Dean uses- pisses him off even more.

“I’ve been here this entire time,” Cas grumbles.

Which is below an angel of the lord like himself but the frustration flickering around inside of him is something that he hasn’t felt in a good while. Probably since apocalypse days.

“Cas!”

All eyes go to the older brother making his way down the stairs. Unlike Sam, Dean isn’t unscathed. His lip is busted, and his entire right eye is blackened. His eyebrow is split, and three gauze strips hold it together.

As soon as Dean comes down the last set of stairs, Cas is already across the room pushing past Sam to press two fingers to his forehead. The hunter straightens up at the sudden wellness that comes over him. His bruising disappears and fades into yellow and the cuts and scrapes heal without a scar. He goes to thank the angel but all he sees is a very frustrated one in front of him.

“You were suppose to contact me,” Castiel speaks firmly. Like angel of the lord firm. “But I received none of the sort.”

Sam goes deathly quiet behind them. He places his duffle bag of guns and knives on the table which make a louder noise than he originally intended. As if the sound is cutting through the thick tension in the room.  

Dean sucks in air through teeth as he tries to avoid eye contact with the angel. But it doesn’t matter where he looks because Cas is only a few inches from him. So those deep blue eyes is all he sees.

“The hunt got very busy, Cas you know how it gets,” Dean argues poorly as he shrugs his shoulders. “We didn’t have time.”

“We had plenty of time,” Sam comments from the table.

Castiel slowly turns his attention towards Sam with a frown. All while Dean looks to his brother with a look of betrayal mixed with disgust. Sam swallows thickly and picks up his duffle bag.

“I’ll go put these away in the stash,” Sam grins sheepishly as he scoots himself across the room.

Blue returns back to green who looks more like a hurt child than anything. And all that anger and frustration is slow to wash away as Cas brings a hand to Dean’s cheek. The hunter flinches away slightly at first but stays in the warm touch of the angel.

“I still don’t know what I’m doing, Cas,” Dean murmurs.

The angel lets out a deep sigh that has his shoulders drooping. Oh Dean.

“I’m…” The hunter clears his throat, readjusting his tone to something more manlier. “I’m still very new to this. To us.”

Cas holds Dean’s face in both his hands, almost engulfing his face but the hunter stays so still. Why still keep up this façade that doesn’t work on the angel? He’s seen him break and cry and become soft so many times. Why still keep up daddy’s good lil soldier in front of him?

A soft kiss is planted on Dean’s forehead over his once black eye. Then, like all the other times Cas has kissed Dean, he kisses the hunter gently and warmly. The heat that the angel radiates is like a furnace yet so inviting.

Dean grabs onto Castiel’s trench coat as he leans forward, deepening the kiss a little. In this moment, Cas can put his own irritation aside for this. He holds Dean, taste the hint of jerky on his mouth from the trip here. It isn’t the most pleasant of tastes, but Dean has kissed him with worst. Much worse.

Calloused hands make their way under Cas’s coat to his waist. This, this is something the angel has missed. Even if it has been a month and two weeks. Too long for his own good.

Unlike Cas, Dean pulls away to inhale a breath of air. The hunter smiles something wicked and Cas’s eyes slightly widen. Dean’s fingers loop into Cas’s belt and flips the buckle open a little too swiftly and a little too eagerly. A soft grip latches onto his wrist, stopping him in his movements. Dean raises a brow at the angel.

“I don’t think Sam will be too impressed if he catches us out here,” Castiel points out sternly, “Like last time.”

Dean barks out a fit of laughter, the memory coming to mind of Sam’s horrified face at the sight of the two. Dean splayed out on the table with the angel over him, his blue eyes as wide as saucepans. Both stark ass naked with the angel’s white butt out on full display.

“Why not?” Dean chuckles out.

Cas can’t help but roll his eyes. With his grip still on Dean’s wrist he begins backing up slowly across the foyer, dragging Dean along.

“You worry too much,” Dean grins.

“I don’t think I worry enough,” Cas bites back playfully.

Dean stops the angel and draws him into for another deep kiss. One that has him gripping the back of Cas’s hair and looping his fingers back into his belt. Dean pulls away but only mere millimetres, not wanting to stay away for too long.

Those green eyes lock onto the angel and Cas won’t lie, he’s missed those emeralds. He runs a thumb over Dean’s freckled cheek and smiles softly when he sees that everything is the same. No more bruises or cuts. Dean follows the notion with a side eye, almost wanting to pull away but staying still and stiffens under the touch.

It takes both of them a good while to get back to Dean’s room. Having to push the hunter there rather than drag him along since he kept stopping Cas. He isn’t vocal about it but he can tell that the hunter can’t keep his hands off of Cas.

Clothes come off a little too easily and Cas can’t help but frown when he spots more cuts and bruises on Dean’s frame. With soft touches, Cas heals them without a second thought. Dean shivers under the touch, his eyes tracking every movement. With a warm glow, Cas heals a deep purple bruise on Dean’s chest that has the hunter breathing a little easier. But with that he pushes Dean back onto the bed. The springs creak under his weight and he disrupts the perfectly made blankets. Cas’s work.

Dean tries to sit up on the bed but is pushed down again when Cas straddles his lap. He runs his hands over Dean’s body once more, making sure that he hasn’t missed any nicks and cuts. He could heal Dean in one go, but where’s the fun in that?

“I’ve…” Dean hesitates, adverting his gaze downwards to the angel’s hands. “I’ve missed your touch.”

“Hmm,” Cas hums at that with a smile.

“I wish I had called,” Dean continues. “Or sent a text. But I’m scared alright. As stupid as that sounds.”

The angel’s smile falls at that. To respond to that, he clasps the hunter’s face in his hands and kisses him softly unlike before. He moves his hips down on Dean as well, making the hunter squirm under his weight. Maybe he can forgive Dean after all.

In between the kisses, the angel mumbles out, “It’s not stupid at all.”

The result of watching Dean’s face go beet red is a reward in it’s own. Cas kisses him again, humming into his mouth with satisfaction. Such a human thing to do. How much he’s changed since being around Dean. He’s changed him so much. Does Dean realize just how much he’s done for the angel? Or is he blind to that fact? Maybe he might have to ask him one day. But not now.

Not when he feels Dean’s grip tighten on his hips, wanting him to grind down harder into him. The friction is something that the hunter craves at this moment. He grows hard and his dick rubs in between the angel’s cheeks. Precum leaks from Dean’s dick, making the glide easier.

Cas sits up slowly and as if out of nowhere, he holds Dean’s bottle of lube in hand. Dean’s stares at it bug eyed for a moment but doesn’t question it because he knows he left that in the bottom draw of his dresser. Where it normally stays. Either Cas miraculously brought the bottle to his hand or it was always on the bed and he just didn’t see it. Either either, both make sense for the angel.

“Let me,” Dean says as he takes the bottle from him.

Lathering his fingers up generously, Dean a little too eagerly brings his hand around Cas’s ass and inserts two fingers. The angel grunts at the sudden penetration, his eyes fluttering shut. With Dean’s other hand as he sets a quick pace to open up Cas, he kneads his thumb into the angel’s hips. Holding on as if he’s going to fly away with those wings of his.

Cas towers over Dean, scrunching up the blankets into his fists next to the hunter’s head. More lube is added and then a third finger is fitted right to the next others. Cas’s breathing becomes heavy, every nerve in his body buzzing and every inch of his grace humming. He can feel everything a little too well for his own good. The stretch of the three fingers, the way his hard cock rubs up against Dean’s, the way that he’s been wanting to feel Dean’s touch once more. Too much.

Deeming the angel ready, Dean brings his lubed fingers to slick his own dick up. He exhales shakily, holding himself together by a thread. The entire hunt, the Angel of Thursday was on his mind yet he was too coward to send a simple prayer. Next time. Next time we won’t be so stupid.

Cas exhales shakily, opening his eyes to meet a lustful green graze. The angel looks into those eyes fondly with a smile coming upon his reddened lips. He kisses Dean again, this time deepening it and grinding down on the hunter again. Dean grunts under him and digs that thumb into his hip a little more.

Dean guides the head of his dick to Cas’s ass, rubbing himself between his cheeks a few times. He pushes the tip of his dick in, humming in the kiss at the warmth he feels. He pushes in a little deeper and breaks the kiss, his face scrunching up into something needy. Cas continues lining Dean’s exposed neck though with small kisses, sucking and biting lightly. Dean groans as he grabs onto the angel’s hips with both hands to help guide him down.

Cas winces but moans something whiny into the hunter’s skin. He still smells like the hunt. Gun powder, cheap pharmacy cologne and musk. Dean grunts with every push. He fucks into Cas eagerly, but the angel isn’t going to stop him. He’s enjoying this too much. He’s missed Dean too much to let this pass. His body buzzes and constricts with pleasure that he can’t help the noises that comes his mouth. He can feel himself shaking in the hunter’s hold, his grace vibrating within.

Dean pushes Cas down onto him until he’s flush against his hips. The angel groans and breathes heavily as Dean only gives him a few seconds of adjustment before he begins a quick pace again. Each time he thrusts into Cas, he brings the angel down just as hard that gets a satisfying grunt from him.

The hunter sits up suddenly, still holding onto Cas so that they’re flush against each other. With each movement, Cas’s dick rubs up against their stomachs. The angel holds onto him as he lets the hunter fucks out everything from the hunt. Dean groans deep within his throat as he keeps moving at a constant pace, thrusting into Cas on his lap. It’s more of an awkward bob at this point, both being too desperate to do much more. But both are satisfied right now.

But Dean wants more.  Suddenly, he flips and throws Cas onto the bed with little effort. He grabs onto the back of the angel’s knees and pushes his legs up so that he’s almost folded in half. He lines himself up again, this time slipping in easier than the last.  

The new angle has Cas shivering and grunting with each thrust into him. He digs his fingernails into Dean’s shoulder, unable to gain control of the delicious noises coming from his throat.

Through shaky pants, Dean is able to grumble out a deep, “I’ve missed you.”

Another shiver runs down Cas’s back, earning a whimper like sound from him. The hunter’s cock passes by that sweet bundle of nerves inside of Cas that has him grunting with each movement. Cas wraps his legs around Dean, holding him close as the hunter’s thrust become short and shallow. Dean comes down for a sloppy kiss, mostly broken by breaths of shaky inhales.

“I’ve-“ Dean pecks Cas on the mouth, cutting him off. “missed you-“ another kiss, “…too.”

Dean brings a hand down to wrap about the angel’s leaking cock, flicking a thumb over his tip with every stroke. Cas arches his back the best he can in the position he’s in and startles out a cry. By God, he can feel himself getting close. His body buzzes and feels like tv static with just a simple touch. He doesn’t want this to be over already, but with Dean abusing that sweet part inside of him he can’t hold on at all.

Cas chokes out a strangled cry as his whole body and grace feels like it’s going to explode. He releases hot strips into Dean’s hand as he digs his bitten nails deeper into the hunter’s shoulders. He heals the bruising before it even comes about, even in his stare of high. Dean keeps fucking through his orgasm, making it ten times more intense.

“Dean,” Cas grits out.

With a few couple of more hard thrusts, Dean drives his cock deeper into Cas as he reaches his own orgasm. Dean stiffens up, unmoving as he cums hot and deep within the angel. Who would have thought. Fucking an angel of the lord.

Cas shivers at the new sensation of the warmth inside of him. He grits his teeth, holding Dean in place. He doesn’t think he can handle the hunter moving at this given moment. Both stay still for a good few minutes, a panting and sweaty mess. Cas can’t help but shake faintly, his breathing ragged and uneven. He can feel his grace is all over the place and he tries his best to collect himself.

But it’s very hard when Dean lands on top of the angel with an audible, “Oof,” slipping out of the angel in the process. Cas places a hand on his back and gives him a light pat on the shoulder. But Dean doesn’t move and inch, his face flat against the nape of his neck.

“I’m coming with you next time,” Cas grumbles out.

Whatever Dean says next, it’s lost into a mumble and jumble of words in the angel’s neck. This earns a short chuff from the angel, knowing full well that the hunter can’t stop him in doing so. What he says goes. But right now, he’s fully content in laying in for a few minutes. He’s fine in letting time pass by when it’s with Dean Winchester.

-

Have an amazing day/night ;)

[1anxiousbeancrying]

Ok I never see anyone talking about the fight between vaggie and lute so I'm gonna break it down. It's such a quick fight but it's so brutal. The first part of this fight happens within 20 SECONDS.

As the fight starts lute grabs vaggie and flies up to get more power as she slams vaggie into the floor. And the speed of it gives vaggie little time to counter it.

Next lute has vaggie pined under her, vaggie picks up a glass shard to try and stab lute with, which she redirects back towards vaggies eye. For the entire first part of this fight lute was only going for vaggies eye/face for attacks rather than just simply defeat her.

Then vaggie manages to semi knock lute off of her only for lute to throw/kick her into a glass pot.

Lute aims her sword higher again, which vaggie blocks with her arm, and in the next shot you can see it actually cut her.

She shoves lute off to try and make some distance between them.

Lute charges once again aiming for vaggies eye, vaggie dogged and lute hits the wall instead.

Lute tackles vaggie to the floor, they both get up then lute slams her head against the counter twice.

Vaggie then picks up one of Alastors radios and smacks lute in the face with it. (I don't think Alastor would appreciate you breaking his things vaggie)

It cuts back to Charlie then back to vaggie so we don't really know what happened next, vaggie falls to the floor, lute then picks up vaggies spear and stabs her through the hand with it.(ow) We could also assume that lute had narrowly missed slicing vaggies face in the part of the fight we didn't see because she has two small cuts on her face that weren't there when she was slammed into the table.(We see this quite obviously in the show so I'm not putting the image.)

Vaggie then rips her spear from her hand, flips her body round to knock lute of balance and uses her spear to fling lute across the room and into a table.

(there is an animation error here as she's missing all the blood she had on her in the other frames but it looks cool so I'm using it) she then rips the back of her shirt to let her wings out, then fly's up and destroys the metal bars holding mass amounts of rubble, causing it to slam down and trap lute.

Then as we all know vaggie lets lute live, it kinda feels like a call back to episode one when lute says Charlie is unworthy of an exorcist blade and that she didn't matter. Vaggie not killing lute when she had the chance to could make lute feel unworthy.

Lute then rips her arm of to continue her fight with vaggie on the roof or to at least stop her from helping Charlie.

This is such a cool fight so much happens in so little time. It would make an interesting au if lute did manage to land any of her hits and blinded vaggie though.

I hope they have a rematch though because this is the one of the only if not the only close combat fights in the series,(without guns or powers)

[al1fers-haven]

I KNOW YOU

Part one - Part two (You're here!) Alastor wrapped his arms around you, his smile twitching slightly as he squeezed you as tight as he could. His eyes closed as he buried his face into the crook of your neck. Hands gripping the fabric of your dress as you gently cried in his grasp. So happy to see him again. "Oh!" Alastor picked you up and twirled your around a bit, your laughter filling up the room as you cupped his face.

He had spent so many days in his radio tower waiting to wake up to your lovely voice, hoping that this was all some sort of sick and twisted dream. Ready to wake up from it and look over to see your sleeping body. Or your voice calling him out for breakfast. Spent so many sleepless nights hearing your voice on repeat on his radio. And now, he could hear it again. "My love, you remembered!" You sniffled, kissing his cheek, and then his forehead, and then his other cheek. "Oh how could I ever forget you Puddin!" He laughed a little, putting you down and just leaning into the warmth of your hand. "You're as handsome as the day i lost you..." His eyes snapped open, staring at you as you just smiled at him. Tears quickly welled up in your eyes again as he looked at you as if you were an angel fallen from heaven

Oh wait, you were. "How- how did you even?" You wiped your face, still smiling as you grabbed his hands. "They found out somethings i did...it was a complete fluke that it happened. But once you get to heaven you don't remember any of those parts, so when they put me to trial...they thought i lied." He nodded slowly, not understanding. "--but you were practically perfect...you once cried because i refused to give a child back it's lollipop it dropped!" You laughed loudly, holding a hand over your mouth. "Oh Alastor, i was far from perfect...it's just that being around you made me perfect. I did my fair share of bad deeds darlin." He sighed, pulling you into another hug and not letting go of you, actually refusing to as you asked repeatedly. His lips peppered your whole face as you laughed and tried to push him off.

"Let go of her!" Husk slammed the door open, gun in hand as he stared at the scene. His eyes widening as he dropped his gun at the intimate situation he interrupted. "What...did you do?" Alastor's ears pinned to the back of his head as he pulled away. "Oh husk! I'm his-" '

"YOU'RE HIS WHAT!?" Angel, husk, cherri, and charlie yelled. Lucifer just blinking wildly at the both of you as you sat down across from them, face red as you sat next to alastor. "I'm his wife! Or I was...we said til death do us part- does that mean we aren't?" Alastor shook his head no, chuckling. "No I never really believed in those vows dear." You hummed, nodding with a smile. "How- how did this even happen! How did you bag a broad like her smiles?" Alastors ears twitched a little and you patted his leg. "Are you... okay?" The young man leaned down, looking at the woman with a small frown, trying to attempt to wrap his head around what he was seeing. The woman just stared at him, a forced smile fading onto her face as she cried. "Oh- oh no Puddin, I'm fine...Just a small mishap in the kitchen." He helped you up, wiping the tears that were falling from your face before looking around. "Who did this?" You gently pushed away from the man, frowning as he asked that. "I don't even know you, why would i tell someone i don't know?" Alastor frowned even more, heart squeezing at how scared you got. "I- I can help you, me and my mother. We help women like this all of the time-" You sniffled, grabbing your grocery bag and straightening your posture. "I'm sorry sir-" "Alastor, my names Alastor." You blinked at him, squinting a little bit and putting the bags down on the little seat again. "You're the fella Mimzy keeps talking bout, bachelor boy?" He chuckled, nodding a bit. "Yes, i believe that's a name i go by..." You giggled, holding your hands in front of your dress. "Y/n- It's a pleasure to meet you Alastor."

Your expression quickly turned sad, looking at the ground and away from him. "You....you said you can help? How do you even know my situation just by looking at me?" Alastor wrung his hands, attempting to make sense of what he was about to say. "I seem to have an eye for these types of things ma'am...is it-" "My father, not husband. " You nodded carefully, his eyes narrowing in on the bruise around your neck and wrist. "Oh.." "I'm only 18...and I've yet to wed- so my parents are making me help them out around the house while I work enough to get a flat.." Alastor nodded, pulling on his collar. "Then- let me help you. I can get you out of there y/n-" You shook your head, pushing a finger to his lips. "My father is a very smart man.. i wouldn't be able to-" "I will, I can outsmart him. Ma'am, I cannot sit around and see you in this position.." You looked at him, eyes softening at the pleading man next to you. "Would you like to go get some tea, Alastor?" His eyes sparkled a bit, quickly nodding.

"Alastor here helped me out of a truly horrible situation when I was 18..." You looked towards him with a sweet smile, making his heart squeeze as he looked at it once more. "My father was an abusive drunk, he and his buddies were quite the group..." Angeldust flinched a bit, sounding all to familiar to him. "My mother was horribly sick, so i stayed for her since i wasn't wedded quite yet...one day after a particularly harsh couple of hits from father, i ran into alastor." Everyone was on the edge of their seats, watching as the red haired male just stared at you. "He begged and begged for me to listen to him, said he could get me out of the situation....after a couple minutes of listening and talking. I finally agreed to hear him out and he took me to a little tea shop down in new orleans. Oh it was wonderful!" You clapped your hands together, smiling as you looked to charlie. "That's....an interesting choice to outsmart your father. Y/n" The darker-skinned boy blushed a bit, looking towards you with a flattered look. "it doesn't have to happen outside of what I'm asking you- my father wishes for me to stay until I am wedded, or close to being wedded. .. The only way to effectively get me out is to.." "Pretend- You want me to pretend to court you?" He tilted his head a bit, confused about why you would ask him of such a thing. "I know it's weird but it's all I can think of at this moment... we don't have to do it if it's not something in your area." Alastor puffed out his chest a bit, taking in a deep breath. "I'll do it-" You looked at him for a second before he continued. "Just...it'll have to be fake on both sides. Meaning that i won't tell my mother it's fake...she's been on my ass recently about finding a woman? I'm sure this is a good moment to...help that?" You nodded, giggling at his explanation and listening to a deep breath leave his frame.

"He was so worried about me and my health, oh it was sweet..." You pinched his cheek a little bit. husk watching in bewilderment. "So we pretended, and pretended. Took so long for him to gain my fathers trust. After awhile tho it wasn't so fake." Alastor stared at you, laughing a bit as you twirled around in the rain, taking off your shoes before going into the street and opening your arms. Breathing in the fresh air. "Y/n! You're going to get sick mon cher!" You looked over and waved your hand dismissively, a loud laugh leaving you as you ran over and pulled him into the rain as well, managing to pull him into the street with ease. "Now I'm soaked!" You smiled at him and bowed, looking at Alastor who was smirking at you. Laughing as he took your hand and twirled you.

Laughter filled the streets as the two of you danced, a couple of men and women watching with smiles as you two had fun. His hand is either always on your hand or on your middle back. Dancing with you like he was taught to. Politely. The two of you stood there in the rain for a moment, laughing and catching your breath as the rain fell around you. So many different emotions filled your mind as you stared at the man in front of you. His hands quickly pulled away from your hips as he cleared his throat. "Your father is going to kill me- we should get home-" You shook your head and cupped his face, kissing him like there was no one watching.

Alastors arms soon found their way around your waist, pulling you in as you deepen the kiss. Smiles on both of your faces.

"Sooner or later we did end up getting married, whether that was the plan or not. And only a week later my father fell to the hands of the Bayou butcher. A murderous man who lives in me and Alastors neighborhood. Or in better words, Alastor had killed my father. And plenty of other men who abused women and children in our town." Charlie smiled, a bright smile on her face at hearing that he did have reasoning for being here. "You knew?" Alastors static cracked a little bit, a guilt smile now on your face. "Oh honey I knew they weren't all hunting trips..." He nodded carefully. Squinting at you.

"ma'am...? Are you Mrs.Altruis?" You opened the door for the detective. Frowning gently. "Yes? Is something the matter dear?" He chuckled and shook his head, taking off his had. "May I come in?" You poured the man a tea, sighing slightly as he waited patiently for you to stop. "I'm here today to ask where your husband was last Thursday...we have reason to suspect he may have killed a man...and that he might be the Bayou butcher." Your eyes widened a little bit, your heartbeat picking up as you stood up. Covering your mouth. "I-" "Miss, please just go calm down so we can continue this conversation..." You nodded, running to your kitchen and looking around for anything. You took the knife into your hands and looked toward the living room, quietly making your way there as you stopped behind him. "ma'am?"

You panicked, you didn't know what to do. What if they had figured out your husband? They were going to take him- take a man who was just helping out the women and children of this world- You stared down at the couch, scrubbing out the red stains quickly as you kept thinking. "Love?" Your head snapped over to the door, eyes wide as Alastor looked at you with a worried expression. "Are you alright?" "Yes, dear. I'm fine...just spilled some wine it all."

"That's why I'm here!" Alastor stared at you a little bit, eyes practically hearts as everyone looked at you with their mouths wide open. "Oh, it was such a thrill! Doing it on the couch was the only thing I regret!" You giggled. Yeah, they can see why you two were so perfect for each other now.

[puppy-phum]

Pit Babe Characters x Cartomancy ➣ Part 5: Winner & Dean

Jack of Clubs: Reckless and a little too sure of himself. Gets in trouble a lot because of his bad temper. Seven of Spades: A card of bad luck and loss. Making hasty decisions out of frustration.

for @pitbabeanniversary week 5 prompts: winner & dean

(more thoughts under the cut!)

disclaimer: i am not an expert in either cartomancy or tarot reading. i did a lot of research on these two sites to come up with these cards for the characters. some of the meanings associated with the cards are still only my own interpretation, so they might not be completely accurate.

when i started this series, i was sure of only two pairs and their colors: babe and charlie would be blue, and winner and dean would be red, just like the team colors. so here we are, the only pair to have only black suits for their cards, ironically depicted in blood red.

winner: i was a little disappointed that there isn't "the biggest asshole" card in the deck, but i guess it makes sense that each card has good and bad sides, just like us humans and our lives have good and bad in them. so, winner gets the "winner card" (i am endlessly amused by winner's nickname when he's such a loser (affectionate) in the series). he gets the card that always reaches for the first place, for the biggest prize.

jack of clubs is the card that approaches everything with great passion and enthusiasm. they have endless energy, so they often participate in some kind of competitive sport. they're confident, courageous, and charming. but they're also arrogant, quick tempered, shallow, and thoughtless. which i think summarizes winner perfectly bc he's almost always insufferable and hard to handle, has a loud mouth, and begs to get punched. also please for the love of god, someone take the gun away from him.

dean: obviously a spade which as a suit is often linked to challenges and obstacles as well as failures and losses. overall, i don't think dean is a bad guy; i know he's trying his best and cares for his pack. he's like a son to alan, and a little brother to north and sonic etc. he just has a lot of ambition and big dreams, and i understand his frustration when it seems that he will be kept from accomplishing anything. he wants to be a star, and it must suck to notice that your efforts don't matter. especially when someone like charlie takes your place from right under your nose seemingly without any effort.

the most fitting thing about the seven of spades for dean is the experience of lacking progress. dean isn't moving forward the way he wanted which eventually leads him into making bad choices and big mistakes. he accepts kenta's offer that dooms him, sets him up for failure and abandonment. i believe him when he says he never meant for charlie to actually die (which he doesn't but dean never gets to know that) bc dean is not evil. he's just a human who feels like he's been treated unfairly and no one seems to recognize that, no one else but tony. it's painful how such things can be so easily used. that's probably why his betrayal completely blindsides the rest of the pack, never realizing how deep dean's disappointment is.

as a pair, i find it most amusing that winner and dean ended up with a ton of parallels linked to the other pairs and their cards. they're a pair of jack and seven just like kenta and kim. winner even has the same suit, clubs, as kim which you can interpret in multiple ways (they're not the same person, but they somehow occupy a similar place in the story, yet approach it differently). meanwhile, dean has the same suit as charlie and they're only two numbers apart. interestingly enough, six of spades that falls between them, is the card of completion and healing. it's the card that represents a quiet, almost stale period in life after something big has happened. it promises better things in the future, but first you need to center yourself again.

none of these parallels were intentional, but i find it fitting that they happened anyway. i can't really see winner and dean as a proper pair bc they don't actually even meet much in the series, but they are tightly connected to the others and all the big events that transpire. maybe it's meant to be then that they connect to the others rather than to each other. they are puzzle pieces and without them, the picture wouldn't be completed.

[persevereforahappyending]

Luck Runs Out |Debt Paid|

Pairing: Mabel x Reader

Summary: When your luck runs out you unknowingly drag Mabel back into the life, she's so desperate to escape.

Warnings: Beating, Threats, Violence, Guns

Word Count: 2.1k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Epilogue

You slipped into your apartment under the cover of darkness. You didn’t think your boss had any of his men watching the place, after all it seemed he thought you were dead, but you weren’t taking chances. You could easily slip out of town, steal a car, and ditch it on the road somewhere, you could be free. You couldn’t do that to Mabel though, you couldn’t do that to Charlie and his friends, they had no reason to and yet they saved your life, you owed them.

You quickly grabbed your empty duffel bag out of your closet and tossed it onto your bed. You kicked the rug in front of your bed out of the way and dropped to your knees. You slid your finger into the little slot and pulled up the floorboard, then the next one. You stared down at the stacks of cash you had been saving for years. You let out a shaky breath before you began grabbing the stacks, tossing each of them up onto your bed.

When you had all the cash from under those floorboards you moved to the front of the bathroom. You dropped to your knees again, quickly prying up the next floorboard and began pulling out the stacks of cash, tossing them onto the bed with the others. When that one was cleared you moved to the next one, then the next one.

You stared at your bed, it was now covered in stacks of cash and the duffel bag after you had thoroughly gone through all of your hiding places. You swallowed nervously before grabbing the bag, you got it fully opened and began stacking the cash inside. You silently counted each stack as you put it in the bag, even though you knew exactly how much you had saved over the years. By the time you were done you had a duffel bag filled with just over fifty grand. Your entire life savings, the money that was supposed to get you out of this life and allow you to live your dream, was all contained to a simple duffel bag.

You grabbed a gun from your nightstand, then hoisted the bag up, giving your apartment one last look before making your way out the front door. You didn’t have much, but you were going to miss the place, you made good money from the whole drug smuggling thing but you went with a cheap apartment so you could save more for a sailboat. You check your phone, seeing a notification telling you your Uber was waiting, then you closed the door and made your way down the steps.

You kept the duffel in your lap the entire car ride. The driver gave you a look when he saw the duffel bag mixed with the fact that he was taking you to the hospital. You didn’t say anything the entire way, besides a simple thank you when he pulled up to the hospital.

You walked into the hospital, duffel flung over your shoulders and made your way down the hall. It was late, there was a nurse hunched over the front desk as she scribbled something down, no one paid you any mind. As you walked through the halls, reading the signs as you went to make sure you were headed to the right place, you saw other doctors and nurses helping patients and doing paperwork.

You leaned back in the elevator, staring emptily at the doors as you rode it to the correct floor. Mabel would never approve of what you were about to do, she might have appreciated it and wouldn’t mind this happening to the good doctor, but she definitely wouldn’t have approved of you doing it. You weren’t about to let this asshole to take advantage of Mabel because he saved your life. You weren’t the most upstanding citizen by any means, and you truly didn’t care what others did, but he was a doctor, he took an oath, and he was trying to take advantage of people who needed his help. He used his position and status to get people what they needed but he made sure it cost them.

You exited the elevator, walking down the long hallway with a determined look. The floor was filled with mostly offices, there was hardly anyone in there, seemed most were home or were on the other floors with their patients. You turned down what should have been the last corner when you quickly retreated back down the hall, pressing yourself up against the wall and gripping your duffel a bit tighter. You peeked around the corner, making sure to stay as out of sight as possible.

“Are you sure?” A nurse asked, standing in the doorway of the only office with a light still on.

“Yes,” the doctor’s voice came. You stepped back, fully hiding yourself behind the wall again when you saw him appear in the doorway as well. “I just have to finish up some paperwork.”

The nurse nodded. “Try not to make it too late of a night this time.”

The Doctor chuckled, saying his final goodbyes to the nurse. You held your breath hoping the nurse wouldn’t walk down the hall you were down. When she never appeared, you peeked around the corner again, seeing she was nowhere in sight. The doctor's office still had the light on, and the door was now just barely cracked open.

You darted across the hall, slipping through the open door before anyone else could potentially see you. “I’m sorry I think you-” the doctors words died in his mouth when he looked up from his desk. As soon as you made eye contact you whipped out the gun you had tucked away.

You glanced out the window when you heard someone walking across the floor. You made sure to press your body as close to the little bit of wall between the door and window, silently thanking whatever higher being there was that the blinds were dark, and the desk lamp didn’t light the room enough for you to be spotted unless someone was trying to see into the room. You kept your gun on the doctor, raising a finger to your mouth.

“Have a good night doctor,” the nurse called out. Your eyes tracked the nurse’s movements through the window.

“You as well,” the doctor called out, his voice calmer than one should be when they had a gun pointed at them.

Your eyes continued to follow the nurse as she passed the door, walking down the hall you had come. You kept your gun on the doctor, not wanting him to get any smart ideas. You didn’t push off the wall and move to the middle of the office until you could no longer hear the nurse’s footsteps.

“This is the thanks I get for saving your life?” the doctor asked, folding his hands together over his desk as if he was the one in control.

“I appreciate you doing that,” you admitted. You didn’t want to kill the dude, he did save your life, without him you surely would have bled out on Mabel’s bed, then she really would have hated you. “But I’m going to need you to leave Mabel alone.”

The doctor let out a tired sigh, rolling his eyes as he leaned back in his chair. “Me and Mabel go way back,” he smirked. You were seriously reconsidering shooting him. “My business with her doesn’t concern you.”

“It does when that ‘business’ is saving my life.” You stepped forwards, slinging the duffel bag off your shoulder, and dropped it onto the doctor’s desk.

“What’s this?”

You rolled your eyes and gestured with the gun for him to open it. The doctor let out another sigh as he pushed back his chair and stood up. He stepped forward, his eyes flicking back up to you as he put his fingers on the zipper. You waited as he slowly began to open the bag, from the way his eyes moved along with the zipper it seemed like he expected for there to be a bomb or body parts in the bag, probably anything but loads of cash.

When the bag was fully open, and the cash stuffed inside was visible, the doctor stepped back. “What-” he gestured to the bag, then looked back up at you.

“Payment,” you said, staring the doctor straight in the eye. “For saving my life. Mabel owes you nothing now.”

The doctor chuckled as he walked around his desk to stand directly in front of you. “That’s not the way this,” he pointed back to the bag. “Works,” he looked back at you with that same condescending smirk he seemed to always give Mabel.

You brought up your hand, whipping the gun across the side of his head. You sighed as he let out a small scream. He didn’t seem to think you were actually going to hurt him, you would have to change that.

“What the hell,” the doctor groaned out.

Before the doctor could fully recover you brought your knee up, hearing his nose crunch on impact. The doctor let out another yell, much more nasally as he brought his hand up, falling back and bumping his head on his desk. You crouched down, staring at his face as his nose continued to gush blood, all of it seeping through his fingers.

“You’re insane,” he said as he brought his hand away, blood still streaming out of his nose.

You bobbed your head back and forth. “Maybe a little,” you said softly, before punching him in the face again. The force from your punch made his head snap back against the desk.

You delivered a few more punches to his face, he most definitely had a broken nose, would probably end up with two black eyes, and a busted lip. When you were finally done punching him, he was left slumped against his desk, a string of blood dripping out of his mouth and bruising already starting to form around his eyes.

You stood up, looking over your work. You let out a little hum as you saw the doctors’ hands laying limply at his side. The doctor was an arrogant prideful man, he didn’t fear for his life when there was a gun pointed at his head, but you knew exactly what his type did fear. You stepped forward, hovering your boot over his right hand, his dominant hand, the hand that made him everything he was.

“Wha-what are you-what are you doing?” he rasped out, his breathing much wheezier than it had been before.

You sighed, looking around his office, seeing all the certificates and awards in his name, seeing the photos of him shaking hands with rich and powerful people. “Making sure my message is clear,” you said.

You slowly pressed your boot down, crushing his hand and fingers at an agonizingly slow pace. Despite his screams, despite his other hand reaching over and trying to pull your foot off, you could hear it all, you heard his bones crunching, you could practically feel the way his fingers cracked beneath your boot. You ignored his weak grip on your ankle as he desperately tried to pull you off, as you bent down, getting only inches from his face.

“Mabel’s debt is paid,” you spoke slowly, your voice cold. “Do no contact her again.” The doctor was staring down at your boot over his hand, but he had stopped pulling at your leg, you knew he was listening. “If you do,” you pressed the gun to his head, making him lean his head up so he was looking you in the eye. “I’ll kill you.” You stared at him for a moment, you could see the anger and hatred in his eyes, but he didn’t move a muscle. “Understood?” you pressed the gun harder against his temple.

He furiously nodded his head. “Verbal response,” you snarked, “please.”

“Understood!” he said through gritted teeth. “Now, get off my fucking hand.”

You took the gun away from his head, you could hear him let out a shaky breath afterwards. “That wasn’t so hard now, was it?”

You stood up, shoving the gun in your waistband. You gave your boot one final twist on his hand, earning more crunches from his fingers and a muffled scream from him. Without another glance at him you turned and walked out of his office, making sure to slam the door closed on your way out. You wore a smirk on your lips as you strolled out of the hospital, you didn’t care that you were about to head off to your certain death, at least Mabel didn’t owe that douchebag anything, and once you were gone, she could finally have the life she deserved.

[vivwritesfics]

Jester Stole His Thorny Crown

Chapter Four

He never had a choice in his life. His dreams were nothing more that that. Dreams. But then he met a lounge singer at his brother club and everything changed.

Mafia!Au

1.4K

Warnings: drugs (not taken), gun violence, descriptions of piano playing even though i don't know how to play piano

Series Masterlist

It had been three lessons, and she was still terrified of him. That was clear. Every time he pulled up his sleeves, she flinched.

Charles noticed every single time. What had she heard to make her fear him so? More importantly, what had Arthur told her?

It made the piano lessons incredibly difficult. Charles could play one song and it was only ten seconds long (he had been a little surprised when she first taught him to play happy birthday, but he went along with it, at least slow progress was being made).

The three lessons happened in the span of a week. In that week Charles had met with the Gasly family, reunited with his old friend Pierre, had collected the money from the other clubs (since Arthur had taken the drugs out of the lounge) and had attended her performances almost every night.

It was amazing, she was amazing. Charles didn't care if he sat there with an empty drink, just watching her. He didn't notice his glass was lacking, not when he couldn't pull his eyes away.

Charles never had a chance to daydream. He was forced to grow up early, was never able to let his imagination run wild. At twenty-six years old, Charles understood why. He understood why he was never allowed to daydream.

As he sat in the meeting with Lorenzo and Esteban Ocon. Esteban Ocon was a mystery in the mafia world. He was a normal kid, hadn't grown up in a mafia family Charles, Arthur and Lorenzo. It was a mystery how he got to this point.

Somehow, as a teenager, Esteban ended up under the employment of the Gasly family. He and Pierre became good friends, but that friendship soon ended. Nobody but Pierre and Esteban knew what happened between them, but guns were pointed at each other and Esteban had to flee. He ended up in Monaco, under the protection of the Leclercs.

Charles was staring at Esteban, clearly making him uncomfortable. But Charles didn't notice. He was too busy daydreaming, imagining being sat at that piano with her, the crowd before them clapping as they finished their song.

"Charles," Lorenzo began, but Charles didn't respond. He was still staring, a stupid, dopey smile on his face. "Charles, Charlie," Lorenzo tried again. He knew just how much he hated being called Charlie, but even that wasn't getting him to respond.

Lorenzo turned his attention to Esteban. "Did he take something?"

But Esteban shrugged his shoulders and leaned across the table to snap his fingers in front of Charles's face. Charles flinched away from him, blinking rapidly as he sat up straighter. "What the fuck?"

"Are you concentrating now?"

Charles glared across the table. "Yes, I'm concentrating," he spat, crossing his arms over his chest.

But still, it was hard to concentrate as the meeting went on. Charles couldn't stop his mind from drifting back to her. He stopped imaging the crowd watching them. Just them, sat around the piano. enjoying each other.

"You know Verstappens boy, don't you?" Asked Lorenzo.

Charles nodded his head. He knew Max incredibly well. They were best friends when they were kids, before Jos became the head of the Verstappen Family. It had been a good few years since they had seen each other last, but Charles doubted anything would change.

"Stay on Max's good side and maybe Jos won't try and kill us," Lorenzo muttered. "Get ready to meet them tomorrow. Don't take guns, but be ready to fight if you have to. And take Arthur with you," he said, ready to dismiss them.

"Arthur? No way. He's still got a fucking gunshot wound in his arm," Charles threw back at his brother. He sat back in his chair, staring at Lorenzo. "Why can't Esteban come with me?"

"Because Max hates me," said Esteban.

"I'm not taking Arthur."

"You're taking Arthur. And that's final."

Lorenzo finally dismissed them. He sent them out of his office, turning his attention to the papers in front of him. Charles was the first out of the room. He stood up with such force that his chair fell back. Esteban followed him out of the office, falling into step behind him. "I can come if you want," he said. "I can sneak around and make sure that nothing bad happens to your brother," he offered.

Charles shook his head. "There's no sneaking around with Jos," he replied. "He'll kill you without hesitation."

He climbed into his car and quickly drove off. Esteban was one of the only friends he had in this world. It was lonely, but Esteban made it a little easier.

Charles didn't know where he was driving to. He was heading somewhere, his mind too consumed to know where. Thank God the people of Monaco knew to get out of his way.

When did he arrive at the lounge. He sat in the car for a minute, just staring at the building. He wasn't there for sanctuary, for comfort. He was there to confront her.

He was angry, but it wasn't at her. His anger was nothing to do with her, but he couldn't do anything to fix the reason why he was angry. He could do something about her.

He pushed the doors open, walking into the lounge. "Mr Leclerc," she called, standing from the piano stall.

That just fuelled Charles's anger. She watched as he stormed over to her, his jaw clenched. Her back was against the piano as he climbed the stairs and walked across the stage.

He stood so close until she was consumed by him. Every breath she took was him. And she was terrified. "I thought I told you to call me Charles," he said, his voice low.

How she wasn't shaking, she didn't know. "Mr Leclerc, please," she whispered, trying to get away.

Charles grabbed the piano lid, trapping her between his strong arms. "Why are you so scared of me?"

She opened her mouth, but no words left her lips.

His arms tensed and he pressed himself closer. "Tell me. Now."

"Please," she whispered, trying to get away from him. "Mr Leclerc, Charles, please." But she couldn't get away from him. It was too much, far too much, and she had to get away.

Charles hadn't expected her to push him. He didn't expect her to press her hands against his chest and push. But she did. She pushed him away and he stumbled back. "No way," he said, a grin crossing his face.

"I'm not scared of you," she said, standing strong (even if it was a lie).

And Charles knew it was a lie. He pulled his gun from his waistband, watched as her face fell, and put it on the floor. "I don't want to hurt you," he said. "I'm not going to hurt you."

Slowly, he walked toward her again, like she was a startled animal. This time, she didn't flatten herself against the piano. As he sat on the bench, she moved away from him, standing beside the piano as he pressed his fingers against the keys.

Charles had dreams like this. Her against the piano as he played. It wasn't something impressive, just happy birthday, but she sang along.

At the end of the ten second song, Charles stopped. "I don't want you to be afraid of me," he said. I know what I've done, I know what you've probably heard, but I promise, I'm not gonna hurt you."

"Because you need me to teach you piano?"

His hand touched hers, where it rested against the top of the piano. "Yeah," he answered and swallowed thickly. "Yeah, because I need you to teach me piano." At this part in his dream, she would reach for his tie and pull him close, kissing him.

But, in reality, she pulled her hand away from his. She quickly walked away from the piano and off the stage. She disappeared into one of the back rooms, and slammed the door shut behind her.

Charles fists slammed down onto the piano. It was a miracle it didn't break. "Fuck!" He shouted, his voice echoing around the lounge.

Permanent Taglist (CLOSED): @biancathecool @rewmuslupin@prettiest-at-the-party @hellowgoodbye @minkyungseokie @formulaal @hiireadstuff @urfavnoirette @goldenharrysworld @andydrysdalerogers @hrts4scarr @llando4norris @evlkking @lilymurphy03 @hollie911 @customsbyjcg-blog @honethatty12 @nikfigueiredo @darleneslane

TAGLIST (OPEN): @ninifee1802 @booksandflowrs @ashy-kit @weekendlusting @annispamz @watermelonworries @spideybv28 @janeholt3 @barcelonaloverf1life @ver-lec @shobaes

[raginglesbian2006]

Ne Me Quitte Pas

Alastor x angel!reader

Chapter 3: Some of these days

Chapter warnings: Vox being annoying

I feel so lonely

For you only

Cos you know, honey

You've always had your way

Masterlist

Alastor sighed as he walked through the halls of Carmilla Carmine’s mansion. Yet another meeting with the overlords that he could not care less about. However, he needed to keep up appearances, especially since he had disappeared for so long. Despite his return, there were still some who doubted his power.

He winced a bit, as he ran his clawed hand over his clothed chest, right over where the wound was. That bastard Adam, as much as he hated to admit it, had done quite a number on him. He’d broken his staff and rendered it useless and struck him across his chest, the wound having never been healed since then.

He guessed it was because of that angelic weapon that prevented him from recovering quickly. After all, he was a demon. A demon very susceptible to angelic powers. Well, at least the bleeding stopped after a few days. He would’ve been at a disadvantage if others, let alone the overlords, knew of his injury.

“Holy shit, this place is huge. How do you navigate through this every time?”

And of course, to make matters worse, he had to escort…the king of hell.

“You know, I never bothered attending these meetings cuz I was…uhh…busy,” Lucifer stated.

“Busy with your duck collection, you mean?” Alastor glanced at him from the corner of his eye, his smile ever prevalent.

Lucifer glared up at him, “You know I can banish you from hell, right? Or kill you, on the very spot you’re standing?”

Alastor let out a loud laugh, static echoing through the halls, “You wouldn’t do that. Our dear Charlie would not appreciate that sentiment.”

Lucifer grunted, “Motherfuck- ”

His words were cut off as the huge doors leading to where the meeting was being held, opened. Eyes were immediately on the duo, prompting Lucifer to break out his “get me out of this awkward situation” smile.

“Eyyyyy,” the demon king snapped out his finger guns, “How’s the gang doing?”

Alastor cringed, his face very visibly showing his distaste, despite his wide grin.

“Your majesty,” Carmilla bowed her head, “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance after all these years. Please, join us. Both of you.”

Alastor sat down at his usual spot beside Rosie as Lucifer was seated at the head of the long table. Said demoness, leaned towards him and whispered , “Vox has been awfully cocky today. Talked about how he’d take you down…permanently.”

Alastor chuckled, his eyes flitting over to Vox and his crew of misfits. It seems he’d somehow completely overlooked his presence. He was insignificant anyway.

“Rosie, dearest,” he widened his grin, “you know he is no threat to me.”

“I know,” she whispered, “but he seemed...oddly confident. Do be careful, dear.”

Alastor waved a hand at her, dismissively. Yet his brow furrowed very slightly, unnoticeably, when his red gaze met Vox’s and his maniacal grin. His giddy attitude irked Alastor, but he hid it well under his permanent grin.

His eyes drifted over to Carmilla as she went on about some unimportant stuff that Alastor did not care to listen to. Soon after, the meeting was adjourned. Alastor bid farewell to Rosie, promising to meet up for a cup and tea sometime later.

He looked over to where Lucifer was to find that poor excuse of a king chatting with Carmilla and Zestial, albeit quite uncomfortably. Alastor decided to leave him be and head back to the hotel to enjoy a quiet moment in his studio.

As soon as he stepped out the meeting room however, his plans were rudely interrupted by a familiar television static reaching his ears.

“Alastor! What a pleasure to see you here!” Vox exclaimed, his smile condescending.

“Ah, I was wondering where the cockroach I saw went. Here you are!” Alastor grinned.

Vox’s smile strained slightly, his eye twitching, “Careful now, Alastor. I would choose my words wisely if I were you.”

“Alright then, I’ll do as you say,” Alastor’s smile widened as he stepped closer to Vox, his eyes gleaming a bright red, “Get out of my way, pest.”

Vox did not move an inch. Instead, his digitized face relaxed.

“You talk big for someone who got their ass dished out by the first man.”

Tentacles popped out from behind Alastor and tightened around Vox’s neck, suffocating him. Alastor’s grin became maniacal.

“So, you were spying on us, hm?” he tightened his hold on Vox as he struggled to breathe, “Good golly, now I must make sure that does not happen again. It’s for safety purposes, I hope you do understand.”

Alastor wanted to pop out his head, rip out every piece of him till there was none left. He had let his antics go out for far too long. His thoughts were interrupted by a sharp pain that spread through his body. His hold on Vox loosened as the tentacles withdrew. The TV demon dropped to the ground, heaving and coughing. Then his smile grew even wider as he looked up to see Alastor struggling, his discomfort showing from the way he clutched his chest.

“Admit it, Radio bitch,” Vox laughed out, “You’re no longer at the top of the food chain.”

He slowly stood up, fixing his bow tie and turning around to find his friends, his eyes glancing at Alastor for the last time.

“The next time you see me, I won’t be so nice.”

With that, Vox left. His footsteps echoed through the halls, leaving Alastor beyond enraged. How dare he threaten him? He had a lot of nerve trying to seem tough with his empty words.

‘The next time you see me, pest,’ Alastor thought, ‘I won’t be so nice either.’

Taking a deep breath, he regained his composure. Lucifer popped out beside him, exhausted by the conversation he just had.

“Alright, I am never attending this shitshow ever again,” Lucifer exclaimed.

Alastor said nothing. The king of hell opened a portal for them to reach the hotel, and they both stepped through.

You stood cooly as the moth like fallen angel pointed her blade to your neck.

“What do you want from us?” she stated.

“Vaggie!” Charlie exclaimed, “You do not treat guests like that! They’re here to help!”

Charlie guided Vaggie’s hand to move her blade away from you. Vaggie seethed still. You cleared your throat, and snapped your fingers, bringing out a signed proclamation from Sera and guiding it towards them both.

The scroll landed in Vaggie’s hands, as she and Charlie read through its contents, their eyes widening with every second.

“As you can see,” you started, “I am not a threat. Heaven has sent me here to help your hotel.”

Vaggie lifted an eyebrow, “Why? Why so suddenly?”

“Let’s say we saw…potential,” you hummed, snapping your fingers once more to make the scroll vanish into thin air.

“I do not buy that.”

“Oh come on, Vaggie!” Charlie pleaded, “This is a wonderful opportunity for our hotel! We now have the acknowledgement we need!”

Vaggie looked towards you and then back to Charlie, “Hun, you don’t know what they might be up to. Trust me, Heaven is not something holier than thou even if it portrays itself to be. You saw it yourself!”

“I know, but this hotel is all about second chances!” she smiled brightly, “We would be just as hypocritical as Heaven if we don’t give them a chance to work with us.”

Vaggie sighed and glared at you, “Hurt Charlie or anyone in this hotel and I will cut you up into pieces.”

“I do not intend to hurt anyone,” you said, “I promise.”

You walked towards the lobby of the hotel, pushing past Vaggie. You looked at her from the corner of your eye, “And an angel, never lies.”

Vaggie muttered under her breath, “Bullshit.”

Charlie, sensing the obvious tension, tried to break it to the best of her ability.

“Sooooo,” she smiled at you excitedly, “Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel! A place where demons can seek redemption and reach the pearly gates of heaven!”

You looked around, impressed at how well built everything was. The lobby was quite elegantly decorated, meant to provide the best service to its individuals. You could only imagine how the rooms would be.

Your eyes wandered over to a particular part of the lobby. It was a painting, depicting the familiar snake you’d seen enter the gates of heaven. He was dressed in military garb, his face held nonchalant pride and he was surrounded by little egg creatures. He looked quite different here as compared to how he looked in heaven. No gold accents on his scales, no glowing halo atop his head. Although he looked harmless in this painting, he still looked…well…demonic. Understandably, of course.

“That’s our Sir Pentious,” Charlie said softly, appearing behind you, “He…he sacrificed his life for this hotel. I can only hope he’s in a better place.”

Her eyes held a certain sheen to them, as if she was seconds away from tearing up. You wished you could tell her that her hotel worked, that her dear friend had made it to the gates of heaven. You wished you could tell Vaggie that she was right, that angels could not be trusted, that you yourself could not be trusted.

But you said none of that.

“That was quite noble of him,” you put a hand on her shoulder, smiling softly, “I am sure he is in a better place.”

Charlie smiled wide, wiping her eyes a little. You could still feel Vaggie’s glare at the back of your head. It would be tough currying her favor.

“You’ve put a lot of effort in this place, that I admire,” you carried on walking around the place, “but you don’t seem to have a lot of residents, yes?”

Charlie chuckled uncomfortably, “Ah well…this is hell afterall. A lot of them are not very…down with the idea of redemption.”

She jumped over to where the bar was. You saw a cat demon slumped over the counter, lifting his head up every few seconds to have a drink from the beer bottle he was holding.

“This is the bar and this here is the bartender, Husk!” Charlie introduced.

“You have a bar…at a place of redemption?” you asked.

“That’s what I said,” you heard Vaggie say.

“A little drink doesn’t hurt! Every one needs a little relaxation sometimes, won’t you agree?” the demon princess look towards you, her eyes pleading for your approval.

You hummed and nodded, “I suppose that is acceptable.” You heard a grunt from the drunk demon and decided to leave him alone.

Suddenly you heard a lot of commotion from upstairs. A few more demons appeared, eager eyes peering down at you.

“Holy shit, you were right, Cherri!” an accented voice exclaimed, “There’s an actual fuckin’ angel here!!”

You could hear them hurriedly run downstairs to the lobby. Your eyes soon caught a little cyclops, dressed like a maid, another much taller cyclops who you recognized had first slammed the door in your face when you arrived at the hotel, and a much much taller arachnid, the very demon you’d seen during the trial. You tilted your head as you contemplated the similarities between him and Molly.

“Ok sooooo, this is the gang!” Charlie clapped her hands, excitedly, “And look, we already have someone new!”

She dragged the taller cyclops by the arm and hugged her close, cheek to cheek.

“Uhh…I’m just here for Angie-” her voice was interrupted by Charlie introducing her and everyone else.

“This new resident slash employee is Cherri Bomb! This little one here is Nifty and his name is Angel Dust!”

You watched as the tall arachnid slithered up close to you, taking your hand and kissing the back of it, winking at you, “Pleasure to meet you, sugar.”

Your brow furrowed as you withdrew your hand, your smile awkward, “Charmed.”

You rubbed the hand where he had kissed you absentmindedly, trying to get rid of that uncomfortable sensation.

“And as you already know, that’s Vaggie,” she pointed at the moth demon, “my girlfriend slash co founder!”

You didn’t need to see her to know she was already glaring at you…again. You were getting used to it.

“My dad and Alastor are supposed to be here too but they’re at a meeting so, it’ll be a while till you meet them!”

Your eyes looked at her questionably, “Lucifer Morningstar stays with you? At this hotel?”

“Uhh yeah! He’s the one who helped rebuild this place after…you know.” Charlie explained, “He does have to go back to the palace every now and then to take care of business but he’s been helping out at my hotel!”

“And,” you paused for a while, “What about this…umm…Alastor fellow?”

“He’s my business partner! The manager, if you will,” Charlie said, “He is umm…quite the character. You’ll know when you see him.”

You nodded your head in response.

“Soo…whatcha doin’ here?” Angel Dust asked, “Here to pick another fight?”

Before you could respond, Charlie interrupted, “They’re here to help with the hotel!”

All of them looked puzzled.

“Help? What changed their minds?” Angel asked. Charlie shrugged but reassured him that all was good.

This was quite the crowd you’d met. You couldn’t help but feel a certain warmth here, a warmth you’d only see in a family. As Charlie and Vaggie responded to their queries about the new arrival, i.e; you, you looked around. It’d take some time but you could get used to this. A small smile graced your features.

Alastor and Lucifer stepped through the portal, their ears already picking up the commotion.

“Huh, I wonder what’s going on,” Lucifer stated, walking into the lobby trying to find his daughter.

Alastor was still irked by his encounter with Vox. He could feel the wound ripping him from the inside out, his pain magnifying with every step he took. This was affecting his powers too. He could still conjure up things but the main source of his power, his staff, was broken and until and unless he could fix it, he couldn’t use his powers to the magnitude he used to.

He did not know what Vox has had planned. But he would rather kill himself than let that picture show of a freak defeat him.

Holding himself to his usual stature, he walked into the lobby to see Lucifer standing defensively in front of Charlie.

“I don’t know why you’re here,” he stated, his horns growing longer, “But I will not let you touch a hair on my daughter.”

Alastor could see the bright white wings and floating halo cloud his vision. An angel? Hm. That made things a bit more interesting.

“Dad, they’re just here to help!” Charlie whined from behind him. She caught sight of Alastor.

“Alastor! Please tell dad to calm down. Back me up on this!”

Alastor sighed, the ever present grin widening.

“Ofcourse, dear Charlie. Oh what would you do without me-”

He paused, his smile straining and his eyes widening.

That angel.

The angel turned their head to look at him. Even after all this time, their eyes had not changed one bit.

That was his beloved.

A/N: hiiii! It's been a while. Well, I am back now. I still cannot guarantee a regular posting but I'll try to keep ya'll updated when I can :) Hope you enjoy this one!

Taglist:

@yumiburrito , @candyladycry , @sleepykittycx,

@fairyv-ice , @sonatabee @preciousbabypeter,

@mo-0-o

@goddesslilithmoriarty, @cyannese-rose,

@readergirlstuff, @nealeart,

@dollsgate, @cherry-cola-100