#I have been getting more communication with husk though

[cybergothvox]

Good luck with that! He does seem very silly

Thank you! I am hoping he will come back to front some time soon and maybe we can leave each other notes or something, but I have been hosting for like three-four weeks now which feels very long even though I know it isn't really haha

[6esiree]

A Jealousy-Fueled Makeup Session

Imagine Alastor and Lucifer leave you after you jokingly break up with them, but they immediately regret it when they watch somebody else get close to you?

Notes: Not proofread, I think I have brain fog </3

Alastor:

Alastor watched Husk console you from the shadows, his eye twitching and his sharp nose crinkling in displeasure as a clawed-hand delicately swept down your spine, your back arching at the sensation and consequently bringing your sides flush together. The scene that unfolded before him was too intimate for his liking, the relieved sighs the bartender was unrighteously eliciting from you driving him mad.

But how could Alastor intervene when he had been the one to initiate your separation, ignoring the desperate, apologetic pleas that seeped past your quivering lips that fateful night you broke up with him in jest? It was only natural you yearned for comfort in his absence, even though you’d found it in somebody that made his stomach churn with jealousy and an inkling of betrayal, the grip on his cane unfathomably tight.

“S’alright, babydoll, I’m here for ya,” Husk’s low, baritone voice alleviated the pain in your aching heart, his cold nose gently bumping against your temple. “Don’t ya stain that pretty little face with ya tears no more, alright?”

Alastor’s claws irritably flexed at that, eager to summon the invisible chain Husk was tethered to under his contract; however, that wasn’t a side of him he liked to display in your presence.

But oh, was he asking for it, especially as he spared him a knowing glance over his fuzzy shoulder, pursing his lips and placing a tender kiss on your tear-stained cheek. Your body stiffened, instilling some hope in him—until you relaxed once more.

“Husker, may I have a word with you?” Alastor’s static-like voice suddenly penetrated the parlor, the crackling and the popping assaulting your ears, but it wasn’t until he said “Now,” in a demanding tone that you pulled away from Husk.

You watched him get up from the couch, staring at him in a way that would hopefully communicate how apologetic you were for seemingly getting him into trouble, but all he did was wink at you. Your brows scrunched together, confused, your eyes following his receding form. You only made sense of his response when you manifested on Alastor’s bed not even a few seconds after their short-lived conversation ended.

“Out of all the residents in this God forsaken hotel,” Alastor hissed against your cheek, forcing half of your face into the pillow, your wrists held hostage above your head as he menacingly loomed over you. “Why did you choose Husker?”

“What? I didn’t choose anybody,” You whimpered, your eyes clenched shut as two of his fingers pumped vigorously into your cunt, his thumb circulating your swollen clit. “He was just trying to make me feel better.”

Your words hardly repelled the jealousy in Alastor’s gut, however, the memory of Husk’s filthy lips kissing you still fresh in his mind. At least the breathless moan that graced his ears reminded him that only he could have you like this, his cock painfully straining in his slacks, eager to replace the fingers hitting up into that spot within your warm, wet gummy walls that had you writhing and squirming underneath him.

“And what about the kiss?” Alastor asked you as he picked up the pace, the sound of his knuckles wetly smacking against your cunt enveloping the room. “I didn’t know he was going to do that!” You said, “But you didn’t pull away,” he bit back.

Alastor’s eyes narrowed and the corners of his mouth twitched downwards when you didn’t have a response for that. He pulled his hand out of you, a trail of your slick draping down his fingers and staining his slacks as they worked away at his belt, the sound of it hitting the carpet snapping you out of your shock. ‘I’m sorry, I just felt so lonely,’ You eventually admitted, but there was nothing you could say at this point to comfort Alastor.

He suddenly snapped his hips forwards, a loud cry escaping your throat as your hole pulsated around his thick cock, desperately trying to accommodate him. He sighed against your cheek, the hand that had been pleasuring you only a few moments ago holding onto one of your legs, spreading your cunt apart. It was then that you finally turned your head to look at him, your lips brushing against his in the process.

In Alastor’s jealous-addled mind, you deserved the painful intrusion. But as he finally took in the full extent of the prominent rings encircling your usually lively eyes, your clumped lashes, and your tear-stained cheeks, he realized that he couldn’t punish you for accepting Husk’s gesture. Evidently, you had spent much of your time lamenting over him, only seeking out comfort when your loneliness drove you to do so.

“Oh, my darling,” Alastor’s lips glided against yours as he spoke, the hand once holding your wrists hostage now tenderly cradling your jaw. While you were confused over the sudden shift in behavior, you didn’t dare question him.

You missed him, and you made that clear through your actions, carding your fingers into his hair despite your aching wrists to bring him in for a slow, passionate kiss. And oh, would Alastor be lying if he said he hadn’t missed you too, his pelvis rubbing against your clit as he leaned in to indulge you. A pleasured gasp seeped into his mouth, his cock instinctively throbbing inside of your cunt, making you jut your hips forward.

“I’m so sorry, Al, truly. I love you and I never meant to hurt you,” You said after you pulled away from him, your eyes nervously darting across his face. “You don’t need to forgive me, I just wanted to let you know that—“ But he interrupted you.

“Enough,” Alastor demanded, pulling out of you as he leaned back, hastily removing his clothes, yours soon following afterwards. “We can speak of that later—this moment is reserved for us and us only, understood?”

Your breath hitched as Alastor pushed you towards the center of the bed, his clawed-hands pushing your legs back until they were on either side of your head in a mating press, his exposed chest heaving at the way your hole excitedly fluttered. ‘I love you too,’ He murmured—and with no static behind his voice. You clutched onto his back, kissing at his neck while the head of his weeping cock leisurely parted your folds.

It wasn’t often that the two of you had sex, so when you did, you made sure to enjoy every second of it. But his hard, even-paced thrusts and the barely audible huffs and puffs that tumbled past his lips as you unashamedly moaned into his ear about how good he was making you feel was just different. You raked your nails down his back, eliciting a proper groan from him, but he quickly muffled it by dipping his head into your shoulder.

“No, no, don’t do that,” You whined in a mixture of disappointment and pleasure, your words almost drowned out by the sound of skin on skin. “Do what, hm?” Alastor shakily asked, feigning innocence. “I want to hear you too, Al.”

Alastor chuckled before revealing to you that you had the rest of the night to procure all sorts of lovely noises out of him, his mouth latching onto your shoulder, sucking a generous bruise that would surely be present for days. You grabbed his hands and placed them over your breasts, his thumbs pressing against your hardened buds as you locked your legs around his gyrating hips. ‘Eager, aren’t we?’ He teased you.

You reached up and tugged Alastor’s ears back, his eyes widening and his mouth falling open with a bleat, burying himself to the hilt as his cock spasmed inside of you. You arched up into him at the feeling of his thick, hot cum painting your walls; and to make matters worse, you rubbed your clit underneath him, quickly bringing yourself over the edge so he could feel your cunt clenching around him, overwhelming him.

What a dirty move you had pulled—but Alastor flipped you onto your stomach, entering your cunt once more. He was set on fucking you till you couldn’t form a single coherent sentence and his cum was trickling down your thighs in a heaping, squelching mess. Why? Because he was secretly broadcasting your lovemaking on Husk’s radio in revenge, his shadow making sure he didn’t touch himself as he restlessly tossed and turned in bed.

Lucifer:

Lucifer never anticipated that a separation would result in Alastor befriending you, regret immediately sinking into the depths of his stomach as his wretched, clawed-hand slowly familiarized itself with you in the span of two weeks. He always seemed to be touching your shoulder, the small of your back, but mostly your face, his knuckles kissing your cheekbone whenever he happened to walk into the room.

But what right did Lucifer have to intervene when he had left you? None—or at least that’s what he tried to remind himself as he stole longing glances at you from the bar, the glass in his hand threatening to shatter with Alastor gallantly twirling you around, the elated gasps he elicited from you almost drowning out the soft jazz music playing in the background. All of this had to be purposeful, the timing too convenient.

“Oh, isn’t this just fun, my dear?” Alastor asked, pulling you into his arms, your back flush against his chest. You stared up at him through your lashes, offering him a shy nod. “I told you! You younger folks are, hm, what is the term again?”

You let out a laugh that had Lucifer’s heart aching. He used to make you laugh like that, he bitterly recalled, taking a generous gulp of his whiskey.

But as you answered Alastor’s question, he rolled his eyes. ‘Lame?’ It was such a common term, and yet the old-fashioned bastard refused to utilize it for whatever reason. Lucifer cringed at the way he repeated it.

“Ha! Yes, lame indeed,” Your breath audibly hitched as he grabbed your jaw to meet his face, his breath caressing your lips. “Well, except for you, of course,” He hummed, his smile too genuine for Lucifer’s liking, “You’re quite alright.”

Lucifer quickly downed whatever was left of his drink without even grimacing once, sliding the empty glass towards Husk before addressing the creases in his hat and his coat. He couldn’t stand seeing you in Alastor’s arms for a second longer, the suggestion that tumbled past his lips to head out to Mimzy’s club encouraging him to ask you to dance—well, that and the alcohol churning in his bloodstream, of course.

“Oh, hello there! Uhh, you two seem to be having a lot of fun,” Lucifer snapped his fingers, the friendliness in his voice forced as Alastor glanced down at him from over his shoulder. “I’d love to join in. Perhaps I could have this next dance?”

“It’s hilarious that you think I’d want to dance with the likes of you, ha-ha!” Alastor tossed his head back, well aware that he was referring to you, but he couldn’t help but poke at him. “I meant the lovely lady here,” Lucifer deadpanned.

The tension hung heavily in the air as Alastor effortlessly turned you around to face Lucifer, his clawed-hands gripping onto your waist in a possessive manner. ‘Tell me, dear, do you want to dance with this buffoon?’ He leaned down, his lips moving against your temple as he spoke, the sensation naturally sending a shiver down your spine. Lucifer narrowed his eyes at that, silently seething at the effect he was having on you.

Your fingers anxiously twitched towards Lucifer’s direction, your body yearning to touch him. But with Alastor practically breathing down your neck, you couldn’t help but hesitate. The two of them didn’t like each other—that was a known fact—however, you only opened yourself up to the man holding you because he had been the first one to offer you some sort of comfort, alleviating your loneliness with his charming nature.

“I think I’m going to call it a night,” You eventually said, pulling away from Alastor. He shot Lucifer a displeased look before nodding, ‘Very well, then,’ grabbing your hand and bidding you a goodnight, his lips tenderly pressing against your knuckles.

Your face flushed, flattered by the gesture; but at the same time, you couldn’t help but feel embarrassed that Lucifer had to see that. You hardly spared him a glance as you promptly turned on your heel, leaving him feeling hurt and somewhat betrayed. Still, that didn’t stop him from following after you with a silent precision, only becoming aware of his presence when his shoe stopped your door from shutting closed.

“Lucifer? What are you—?” You tried to ask, but he slammed the door behind him with his tail, tackling you with a searing kiss. “I’m sorry,” He shakily spoke against your lips, his hands hastily undoing your pants.

“About leaving you—about coming back to you because I couldn’t handle seeing that asshole touch you,” Lucifer continued, eliciting a gasp from you as he suddenly pushed you back into your dresser. “I’m so fucking sorry, honey.”

Within a matter of seconds, your pants and your underwear were pooled around your ankles, the cool air causing goosebumps to litter your flesh. You braced yourself on the dresser, your nails threatening to splinter the wood as Lucifer shoved his face into your cunt, his forked tongue parting your folds. A part of you wanted to be upset at him for barging into your room, taking you like you belonged to him, but oh, had you missed him.

While Alastor distracted you from your sorrow, comforting you with his gentle caresses and his kind words—that’s all he had been to you, a meager distraction. Every night you cried yourself to sleep, hoping, praying even, that Lucifer would spare you a simple glance. And now he had his arms wrapped around your legs, moan after moan tumbling from your lips as his tongue relentlessly kissed, flicked, and sucked at your swollen clit.

“Fuck, Luci, I’m the one who should be sorry,” You said, burying a hand into his soft hair and affectionately scratching at his scalp. He shook his head as he focused on your clit, the action making your thighs tremble. “Yes!”

Lucifer couldn’t tell whether your ‘Yes’ was directed at him or simply a product of his ministrations; either way, he refused to let up on you. He dropped one of yours legs, using his free hand to collect your slick. Your gummy walls welcomed his fingers with a warm, wet, tight embrace despite the two weeks you had spent apart, his cock stirring in his pants. But he had to focus on you first.

The pads of his fingers curiously felt around your walls, the spongey spot inside of you that usually had you crying out in ecstasy in the forefront of his mind. ‘Oh, fuck!’ You cried out, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards. ‘Right there—yes!’ He had found it. Lucifer stared up into your heavy-lidded gaze, the sight of your furrowed brows and your flushed cheeks spurring on his passionate assault on your fluttering cunt.

“Oh, thank you,” Lucifer groaned when you finally came, immediately replacing his fingers with his forked tongue, your thighs clenching around his head at the feeling of him lapping at your walls. “Thank you so fucking much, honey.”

You pulled him back by his hair when you began to feel overstimulated, a blush creeping up your neck as you observed the dazed look on his face, his chin glistening and his cock painfully straining against his pants. He looked absolutely fuckable like that, sinking down onto your knees to join him on the ground. A strangled groan escaped his throat as you pushed him back onto the carpet, capturing his slick-stained lips.

You straddled his hips, your fingers fixing to undo his pants, but he quickly snapped his fingers and had you pinned underneath him on the bed, nude. It was a surprise, but a welcome one nonetheless, clutching onto his back as he parted your legs and leisurely pushed past your folds with his weeping cock. Your eyes fluttered shut at the feeling of him buried deep inside of your cunt, his pelvis soothingly rubbing against your swollen clit.

Lucifer’s mouth latched onto your skin as he pulled out entirely, slamming his cock back into your hole, a loud whine gracing his ears. He etched your shoulders, your throat, and your jaw with his teeth—every part that would grant him a scolding. It was an attempt to ward off Alastor, but he would find out the next morning that that would do nothing to deter his efforts, his wretched lips kissing at your supposed injuries.

Taglist:

@cosmiiwrites @pumppkinlynn @spookieroz @gxstiess @polyo-nym-y @vvzhyxx @shinynewboots @freakyfrye @leonotlara @angelicribbons @megumibbg

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hey I was wondering if you could do like Wednesday x fem yn but like Wednesday trying to tell mortica and gomez she has a gf and not knowing how they'd react and edin trys to help her and in the end they find out somehow you can pick if they take it good or bad but yea

A/n: I’ve seen this get asked to another person but I’m too proud of what I had already written to throw it away.

The crystal ball upon Wednesday’s desk taunted her with the impending call from her parents. Wednesday was something she hadn’t been in a long time; worried. The last time she had spoken with her parents, a lot had changed and one of the most recent and most prominent changes was that she had found herself a girlfriend.

How you met was the typical run of the mill meet cute, Wednesday was caught doing something she wasn’t meant to and she threatened to take your tongue, vocal chords and hands should you ever rat her out. Your response? “You’re beautiful.” Ever since then you had been constantly drawn to the chaos that was Wednesday Addams and not once has the thought of ever letting you go crossed her wicked mind. She was happy, a word she never thought she’d use in a lifetime but truly, for the first time in a long time she was happy. You made the insides of her hollow husk of a human vessel warm.

You lit a match and threw it upon her coal heart, setting it ablaze with the very foundations of life as the fires reflected in her dark eyes. You were her cara mia as she was your mon cher. For you Wednesday would die for you, kill for you, even live for you should you command it of her. It was moments like those that she began to see how alike she was to her father; Unhealthy obsessed with the object of their eternal attraction. So unhealthy in fact the pair might possibly be clinically insane with their love. However not even a highly facilitated psychiatric ward would be able to prevent Wednesday from coming back to you.

For she would have it burnt to the ground in your name as though she were a crazed religious fanatic, pleading her love to the only form of higher power that ever truly existed; You. If she had it her way, you’d both would’ve carved out and calcified your beating hearts for the other, to have and to hold until you were both cold and dead within the ground that would make up your grave. You would now and forever more belong to Wednesday as she would belong to you until the dark forces swelled you both whole; snuffing out your mortal flame for good.

So as Wednesday clamped down on her finger nails, bitting them right down to the nub and then some, Enid couldn’t help but feel concerned for her friend as she stared vehemently at her -seemingly- only form of communication with a look in her eyes. “What’s chomping you at the bit.” Enid asked, begrudging to know the answer but knew that Wednesday was in a situation where a friend was something that she could use right now. “My parents will be calling soon.” Wednesday merely said, not taking her eyes off of the crystal ball as though she was awaiting for it to go off.

“That’s great! Unless your relationship with them is questionable at best then that’s…not great.” Enid trails off when she began to notice that she wasn’t helping in making the situation any better even in the slightest. However the blonde wasn’t one to give up even in the face of adversity, Enid presses onward and upward. “My parents only sent me here to mold me in their image, to forge a carbon copy of themselves out of me by the time inn through with this place,” Enid stayed silent, “I get sent to the same dormitory my mother once resided, I have premonitions like she does.” Wednesday falls silent as her fists clenched in silent anguish.

“However I am not my mother, nor will I ever be like her because unlike her I have a heart to give and I gave it to y/n upon a moonlight night; the same night where the crows dropped dead before us and black dahlias bloomed by our feet.” Enid smiled warmly, remembering the twinkle in Wednesday’s eyes when she came back to the dome after her first official date with you down by the greenhouse. It was a dangerous twinkle but a twinkle none the less, Wednesday could’ve told her that you had a sparing match that ended with the tips of your blades poised at the others throat and the werewolf would’ve still somehow find it romantic.

“Now I am seemingly at an impasse with the illogical concerns of how my parents would react to me engaging in romantic circumstances with another girl, despite being well aware of their stances on societal demands.” Wednesday admitted, not use to feeling this vulnerable in front of another person but at this point in their relationship, Wednesday trusted Enid -despite how much of a gossip she could be- a smidge more then she did the rest of the student body that made up Nevermore. So if anything, this was Wednesday’s silent cry for Enid’s help and luckily she wasn’t overly dense to not notice.

“Wednesday,” Enid began as she moved over to stand by her friends’ side, “what your parents think shouldn’t reflect upon your relationship with y/n. You love her and she loves you, so why ruin a perfectly good thing by listening to what you parents think.” She places her hands on Wednesday’s shoulders and made sure that they were meeting eye to eye. “Never, not once, since I’ve came to know you had you given a shit about what others thought of you. So why give a shit now?” Wednesday has to admit, Enid was right. Why should she all of a sudden care when all she’s ever done thus far was deflect other peoples opinion on her. It made no logical sense but she guessed that now that you were in the picture with her; Wednesday worries about her parents perception of you.

Just as Enid was about to continue with her speech, the crystal ball went off and within the clear cut glass could the image of Gomez’ stout figure and Morticia’s taller frame could be seen as though they were actually trapped within the crystal itself. Upon seeing their daughter, Gomez and Morticia sat up straighter and smiled at Wednesday who only stared blankly at them, blinking slowly like a cat does when trying to convey their emotions to their owners. “There’s my little death moth, how’s Nevermore been treating you?” Gomez started as Morticia only took in her daughter’s expressions with a curious furrow in her brow but she didn’t speak upon it. Yet.

“Same as usual, however-“ “however you have found love, with a girl perhaps?” Wednesday straightened at her mother’s words. “How did you-“ “call it a mother’s intuition my dear death blossom.” Morticia’s unnerving voice cut her off as she looked to Gomez who was already looking at her, love sick. “Our daughter has found love Gomez, the ancestors must’ve blessed her already.” Gomez only grasped Morticia’s hand that rested on the chair arm tightly. “That’s amazing ‘tish, our little cope has found her forever mouse to play with until she too becomes a viper, until she becomes an Addams.” Wednesday perks up at this, her parents were indirectly giving you their blessing to marry her, to join your soul with hers as one until the end of your shared days.

Enid, still in the room, was trying her hardest not to squeal in excitement. Sure this event wouldn’t be until later down the line but she hopes she becomes your guys maid of honour.

[lolbital]

My hazbin hotel ship opinions!

• staticradio: my favorite, my obsession, my life. It is very obvious in the show that Vox is obsessed with Alastor. The most common opinion in the community is that it’s one-sided, but I like to think Alastor pulled away because he was afraid of his reciprocated feelings towards Vox.

•radiorose: This is my second favorite Alastor ship. They are super cute and they’re quite perfect for eachother. I just enjoy their friendship too much to actively ship them.

•radioapple: I only understand this ship because it seems like they have existing tension, but otherwise I don’t enjoy it. Alastor and Lucifer’s relationship was never expanded on beyond their immediate rivalry. Maybe if season 2 gives them more interactions or a backstory I will be able to get behind this ship a little more, but I really can’t see this as anything more than a boring rivals to lovers trope.

•staticmoth: It’s okay, but I don’t see them as much more than a sexual relationship. I don’t think Valentino is capable of genuine love.

•polyvees: I see Velvette as more of a younger sister to the other vees. To me the idea of her having two boomer older brothers is just funny. I don’t think this ship is necessarily bad it’s just not my thing.

•bombsnake: I think they’re cute. Unfortunately I don’t think Cherri really has returned feelings for Pentious. Based on their interactions she just seems interested in experimenting sexually with him because of his anatomy. I could be wrong though, so I’m very open to this ship!

•Charlastor: I see Alastor as a father figure or older brother to Charlie. Especially after the Hell’s greatest dad song, I just can’t ever see them in a romantic situation. I am not against the ship, but I personally don’t like it.

•Chaggie: I have nothing bad to say about them! Their relationship is healthy and I think they’re perfect for eachother. I particularly enjoy the fact that Vaggie was an ex-exterminator because it truly promotes Charlie’s idea of redemption. I am going to be extremely upset if Vaggie gets redeemed and gets seperated from her gf.

•radiodust: most people who ship this probably still have the pilot in mind. They don’t interact a whole lot in the show, and I see this as more of a crackship than anything.

•huskerdust: It looks like they’re going to be getting a slow burn relationship and I’m so happy about that. I like to think that Husk is refusing Angel’s advances because he knows he’s only doing it because of hypersexuality at first. I’m 99% sure that is what is canon too. I want to see their relationship grow.

•radiohusk: I am sorry but I can’t get behind this whatsoever. Husk absolutely hates Al, and Al owns him. There is no equality in this relationship, and it would get toxic very quickly.

•radiomaid: I love their dynamic but only as friends. I know Nifty is an adult, but she acts so childish and Alastor still owns her. I don’t like the power imbalance and maturity gap.

•alastor/lilith: if the theory that Lilith owns Alastor is true, then I am interested to see if we get a backstory about them, or what they might’ve been doing for 7 years. As of now I am neutral.

•guitarspear: these two menaces belong together. It seems like Lute really cares about Adam too which is an added bonus.

•Adamsapple: definitely a crackship. I don’t know what to say other than I find it amusing.

•valdust: I despise this ship. There is a very abusive power imbalance and it is proven that Anthony is nothing more than an object in Val’s eyes. There is no love here, just manipulation.

•royalhalo: cute, but even better if It’s poly with Vaggie. If emily becomes a fallen angel, Charlie could have two gfs and I stand behind that.

•lucilith: I hope they get back together. Lilith better have a good reason for leaving.

•Vaggie/Angeldust: most probably ship this because they were likely a longtime viv follower. I’m not against this ship necessarily, but I could never get behind it. Maybe I just adore chaggie and huskerdust too much.

[redfoxwritesstuff]

For Eternity, Chapter 12 of 13 (Alastor x angel!Wife!OC)

Alastor x Angel!Wife Oc (Isabel) Rated: Adult Chapter Warnings: Alastor's a bit unstable. If you're not interested in smut, you can call this the end, chapter 13 is smut heavy and wraps things up a little neater though.

Join us at VoxTek for a Vox themed Hazbin Discord. And my friend runs a Hazbin Fic Community

Masterlist AO3 KoFi

“You too, Isabel.” Sera smile was small and sadistic in a way Isabel couldn’t explain as she held her arm out. 

“Maybe we could use some explanation?” Husk seemed to be the voice of reason, “So that the Princess can repeat this success.”

“Yeah, how the fuck did I get redeemed suddenly?” Angel Dust made a show of taking a long drink out of a bottle he snagged from Husk. 

Sera rubbed the space between her two eyebrows as she collected herself. After a few deep breaths, she set off on the story of redemption. 

“You were tested of your character, Isabel of her faith and you have been deemed pure.” 

“Ain’t nothing pure about me,” Angel Dust countered, only to be ignored. 

“You were offered a chance to violate one of the most divine beings in the universe. Resisting gained you nothing and yet, you worked to free her, putting your own life at risk.” 

“I’m going to tell you something, right now,” Angel Dust finished his drink, “If that’s what you’re basing this on- Ol Tall Dark and Murdery over there would have never let me have a moment without more pain than I can imagine if I didn’t. He scares the piss outta me more than Val any day of the week. Self preservation, baby.” 

Isabel knew the lie of that. Angel Dust was horrified from the moment they had met with the task he had been given. That was true before he had known who her husband was. 

“It matters not how you wish to deflect it. Your heart has been judged pure.” 

“Isabel- they decided that you can come home too!” Emily’s eagerness died as emotions warred across Isabel’s face. “Adam’s gone, so he won’t be bothering you anymore. You know what happened to your late husband-” 

“Current.” Alastor’s voice cut through the space. 

“You’re not married,” Sera challenged. “You haven’t been since the day she died. A marriage is until death.”

“Our vows were rather unique,” Alastor’s grip on her waist was growing painful but she welcomed it, letting it ground her as her mind seemed to spin out of control. 

“You don’t have to stay in a realm of violence and death,” Sera ignored Alastor, instead speaking directly to Isabel again. “You do not have to remain with a bloodthirsty murderer.” 

She was tense in his arms. He could feel the way her body trembled under his hands. He could lose her. Because of what he had done, his little hobby, he could lose her again. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. They had vowed for eternity. 

“We modified our vows,” Alastor insisted, “We changed ‘till death do us part’ to instead be a promise for all eternity. I have remained faithful, as has she. We are still wed.” 

“You are not.” Sera's smile reminded Isabel of the way Vox smiled at her when he realized he had her caught.

“Why?” Isabel felt like she was spinning, as if the floor was falling out from under her. She didn’t know if she was asking why her marriage was considered void or why she was being called to return to heaven’s gates.

“While you vows may be been spoken for and intended to be for eternity, though you’ve remained faithful- since death you’ve not lain together as man and wife nor have you spoken your vows again. You will return to Heaven today and you will move on.” 

“Wait, now-” Angel Dust was the first to speak up but was quickly cut off by Emily.

“Sera, that’s not exactly-”

“And if those conditions are met?” Alastor’s voice was thick with the filter. Static felt like it was crawling over Isabel’s skin. Shadows danced in a way that reminded her too much of the night prior, when Alastor had let blood fly through the air of the studio hidden in shadows. 

“If she were to accept laying with a man such as you, a man who takes pleasure in the ending of human lives, she would damn her soul.” Emily was quick to speak, wanting to be factual before Sera could do whatever she had planned. “It doesn’t have to be right-” 

“But she hasn’t. She will return with us. They both will. We will be leaving momentarily.”

“And if I don’t want to go?” Angel Dust asked, downing another drink. “And if I want to say fuck you to your offer, come get me next time I die, maybe?” 

“For you, that would be agreeable.” Emily again spoke quickly, feeling the situation spiraling out of her control. “We simply wanted to offer you passage now. You don’t have to risk losing redemption while waiting to die.” 

“Or, I can earn redemption through this stupid ass hotel the way Charlie intends and not from being a pawn in some fucked up God’s game.” Angel Dust slammed down his bottle. 

“You’d be free of Valentino if you left now,” Husk pointed out. 

“Fuck it, I can take Val. I’m not done here.” 

“He can choose to stay but I cannot?” Isabel asked, wrapping her fingers around the strong forearm that had creeped up her front as Alastor gripped her shoulder tightly. 

“Regrettably,” Sera didn’t sound like she regretted it at all, “let’s go.” 

“Is Heaven not merciful enough to allow a hus-” Alastor’s smile twitched as he cut off his title in order to humor the seraphim whom he’d rather be ripping the wings off of, “a man a moment with the woman he loves to say goodbye?”

“Alastor!” Charlie’s outrage was clear on her face, “Wait, we can discuss this, find a solution. Maybe you can be redeemed too?!”

“There will be no discussion.” 

Alastor’s smile simply twitched as the shadows violently came to life, dancing with his power rather than simply deepening as they had been. Inky shadows came off the floor, spilling and plashing up on their feet as Alastor’s shadow itself pulled free from the wall. 

Fright filled Isabel’s eyes as her head whipped around. The seraphim were likewise uncomfortable with the display over power, pulling on their own wells of power to push back shadows that strayed too close. 

Cold black arms wrapped around both Isabel and Alastor. An icy chin rested on her shoulder as it curled in over its master and its love. Fingers as dark as the void hooked her chin and pulled her to look at its face. 

The face of the other Alastor looked back at her. The face of darkness and unhidden emotion that somehow spoke more than Alastor’s schooled face ever did frowned for a moment, sharp mouth pulled down at the corners before it began to smile again. Fingers that shouldn’t have been real caressed her skin as the floor became soft under her feet. A black shadow heart flew up above the black head of the shadow man as its shadows swallowed them.

“Where is he taking her?” Sera demanded, her voice lost to the roaring static in Isabel’s ears.

The shadows pushed them up from again. He held her as she regained her balance, her heels clicking against the cracked tile floors. The room was dark, lit only by the dim red daylight that spilled over the landscape from some unseen or light source. 

Though the windows were large, overlooking the vast city below them. In the far distance, she could see the gleaming tech district that had been her prison for a few days. 

Alastor’s arms fell from around her as she stepped forward, taking in the broadcasting room decorated with deer skulls, rich wood and puddles of the bayou. It smelled like home in every way she couldn’t have been able to explain. It smelled like his workspace and their home mixed together. 

In a way, she guessed that’s exactly what he intended. 

“Where are we?” She turned to face the man she had always considered herself married to, shadows still dancing around him. His shadow twin still loomed, as agitated as the rest of the shadows. 

“The hotel still,” Alastor stalked up to her, looking very much like a predator. Was that how his victims had seen him in their final moments? “My broadcasting tower. I fear those meddlesome angels will not give us much time.” 

“Alastor, I-”

“I have honored your memory. I have honored your love, never once thinking I’d get to hold you again. Yet now you’re here, with me and you know- HA! You know everything now! But they dare come here and disrespect our marriage based on what?” His fingers dug into her arms as he bent down to be at eye level with her. “You must decide now, ma chérie. I need you like I’ve needed nothing in life or death. Do you accept me? Do you want me? Will you have me?” 

“I’ve always loved you,” 

That wasn’t the answer he needed to hear. Love wasn’t enough for those damned demons in angel’s wings. They cared not for their love. They spat on the face of their sacred vows. 

“It’s not enough.” Her lower back hit the hard edge of his workstation as he drove her back. “They don’t care that you love me. They don’t care. As long as they see you as unwed and pure, they’ll take you from me. Is that what you want? Do you want them to take you back? Do you regret finding me?” 

Alastor’s hand wrapped around her neck, grip soft as she looked timidly at the madness behind his eyes. She was sacred. No, that didn’t give enough weight to what she was feeling at that moment. She was terrified, but she didn’t want to run from him. 

“I said our vows again and again over these years,” she whispered. “Alastor? I don’t- I’m scared. You’re scaring me, but I don’t want to go with them.”

His lips crashed against hers, greedy to taste her lips again. They had decades to make up for, but unless he claimed her, they wouldn’t have the chance to make up for so much missed time. Tilting her head with the hand around her throat, he enjoyed the feeling of her gasp race down her trachea under his palm when he bit down on her lip.

Sweet blood filled his mouth as he drank her up. Not a lot, no- he never wanted to cause her any serious harm, but he needed to taste her. A lifetime of wondering what her blood tasted like. He finally had his answer. 

It was the sweetest wine. 

His lips left hers, tongue dragging along her jaw as he clutched her, thumb caressing her waist as he continued to taste her skin. He nipped and sucked at the exposed skin as he reached behind her, undoing one button above her wing. 

“I want to stay with you, Al.” Tears gathered in her eyes as she ran her hands along his shoulders. It took all the focus she had to unbutton his coat and send it off his shoulders. “Please, I don’t want to go.” 

“You’ll let me defile you?” He whispered as his hand left her neck so he could toss his coat absently toward his coatrack. 

It fell in a heap, unnoticed, while his large hands gripped her waist. He pushed her to sit up on the control panel as if it was nothing, setting her between dials and not sparing a thought to what buttons she could be pressing.

“You’ll let me dirty you? Let me rub the very sins of my soul off on you? Stain your soul dark with the darkness in mine?” His words were coming hot and heavy as he gripped her knees, just under the hem of the front of her dress, and pulled them apart while he ran his hand up her legs. 

“Yes,” she whimpered, craving the feeling of him. 

His firm chest under her hands left her wanting more. She pulled at the collar of his shirt, battling with his bow tie. 

“Please, Alastor-” 

He looked up at her as his fingers traced the line of her underwear, another garment he had materialized out of nothing by his raw power for her. Another demonstration of the world he could give her. 

“There will be no going back. No changing your mind. No turning your back on me. No divorce. No leaving me. There will be no heaven. There will only be eternity, with me.”

“Without you, it was never Heaven.”

Tag list in comments

[hiemaldesirae]

LOOL YES!! That's what you get Alastor!! Cursed cat!Alastor adores Vox and would never hurt him. Honestly it'd be hilarious if Vox does an interview that night and the entire hotel (plus Lucifer) catches it and Cursed cat!Alastor is on Vox's shoulders just purring away and happily nuzzling Vox's screen and being happily petted and Alastor is gripping his fixed staff, grinding his fangs, jealousy leaking from him.

Charlie is pleased: "Alastor, I knew you could find that cat a good home! Thank you! =D"

Everyone else is fucking shocked. They know Alastor threw that cat at the Vees for entertainment and hell raising purposes (and in Husk's case, a way to try and get Vox to come back to him. Most of Alastor's schemes involving the Vees always, always revolve about getting Vox back.)

The interview is about a new product of Voxtech, but at the end of it, they ask about Vox's new pet and Vox just puffs up, proud as can be:

Vox: "This little demon just charged into the lobby, brutally attacking my staff! 2 or 3 died, I think 4 or 5 were maimed so I of course had to keep him! Isn't that right, Venom? (Cause Vox thought he had rabies....and he foams at the mouth when he attacks...so...and the V theme.) Isn't he precious?"

*sir is fine, for future reference. but YEAH, alastor would definitely be seething with rage- like whole fucking cartoon ass face too, he's NOT having the time of his life rn. why the FUCK was vox petting that hellspawn???? that should've been HIM ???????????

also venom is a perfect name for that little shit, honestly, though ill be fr i can only think of the. You know. Venom.

anyway whatever here's another writing snip. (vv short because i have morning classes tmw and im going to freak if im late again) you guys are greedy asf but whatever ill provide like any good father would

"Oh, dear... and he *kept* it, is that right?" Rosie gasps as she watches Alastor grip his hair tightly, head cradled in his hands. She giggles as she continues teasing the poor demon, "My, Alastor, isn't he quite the catch? Compassionate and caring to boot, not to mention that he seems to be *quite* popular among the denizens of Hell!"

"Rosie, my dear, please. Stop talking. For the love of God, stop talking," Alastor's ears flatten more as he begs his friend, Rosie merely laughing softly in delight as she watches.

"You can hardly blame me for being curious, Alastor! I mean, you always refused to take your sweet little picture box to Cannibal Town when the two of you were still talking... why, I had to learn of your dalliance through Mimzy! And, not to devalue my beloved's qualities, of course, but she's *hardly* the greatest source of information one can find-- I married her out of love, not for her communication skills."

"That *thing* probably has rabies," Alastor spits out, looking as if he'd just swallowed a particularly bitter pill. "I don't *understand* what he sees in it!"

"Well, it does look quite like you," Rosie points out leisurely. She takes a sip out of her teacup before continuing, "Perhaps he's treating it as a substitute for you? You know, in the way that some would treat their plushs like pets, he's treating his pet as... well, you."

Alastor narrows his eyes at her. "Vox *knows* that if he wanted to talk to me, he could easily just go over and tune into our shared frequencies. He's *replacing* me with it, Rosie, I just know it!"

"Hm... well, in that case, why don't you just go and make it clear to him that you aren't replacable?" Rosie taps the edge of her cup with a knowing glint in her abyssal black eyes, holding her good friend's gaze steadily. "You've never shyed away from confrontation before, have you, Alastor? Why be hesitant now?"

Alastor licked his lips, staring down in his lap before he picked up his own teacup and downed the liquid inside like a shot.

"Thank you for hosting me today, Rosie. I think... I've reached a conclusion."

A knowing smirk crosses the Cannibal Overlord's face. "Of course you have. I expect to be formally introduced to your lovely little muse soon, you understand?"

"Yes, my fair lady," Alastor rolls his eyes with amusement. "But you had better not try and take a bite of him."

"Who, little old me? I'd never, dear!"

"You had better not," Alastor frowns. Though his tone is joking, his expression falls flat.

Elsewhere, in the Entertainment District, Vox sneezes into Venom's fur as he cradles the fluffball of red fur. The freaky kitten turns to look up at him with a questioning look, but he only ruffles Venom's ears apologetically.

"Sorry, Ven. I don't know what came over me just now- oh, look at this! Should we get you this collar, or that one...?"

[prince-liest]

I've been thinking about your Lucifer/Angel fics (re: fantasizing, general daydreaming, and finding myself NOT doing whatever task I was supposed to be doing) and I'm very curious: What, if anything, does Angel get out of their escapades (aside from boinking the Top Dog of hell). Like, Lucifer is very much attracted to Angel, and on top of that he's getting some top-tier emotional care from our favorite spider too. Platonic and community support even, what with the wing-grooming fic! (Dunno if that's all in 1 continuity or not but either way lol). So is there anything outside of the sex parts Angel is enjoying? :3

Ahahaha, glad they've been living on amidst the plethora of radiostatic! >:D I've had another Lucifer-centric fic percolating recently, actually, though it's a gen fic.

HAVE A LIST. Not all of these are "outside of the sex parts" and some of them are, like, smeared across both. All of my Lucifer fics, fwiw, are not actively intended to be written in the same universe/continuity, but folks are free to headcanon them as such if they feel like they fit! HOWEVER:

I write Angel Dust as someone who does in fact just enjoy sex, including sex with a variety of people, and Lucifer is objectively pretty fucking cute.

And also into some kinks that Angel might not get to explore elsewhere, especially since the professional Angel Dust persona is a more submissive one.

Lucifer is also Lucifer. Angel Dust is not immune to the stardom factor!

Lucifer is very eager-to-please and for all that he's largely the one getting taken care of in the NSFW fic, it's still an incredibly endearing attitude for Angel "my job that I'm not allowed to quit is to please everyone at my own expense" Dust to be faced with!

Seeing that someone as powerful as the king of hell can be as much of a self-destructive, anxious disaster as the lowliest of sinners is relatable and also vaguely reassuring! (Husk, on the other hand, finds this kind of horrifying, lol. C'mon, man, what happened to "we're all losers"?)

A lot of it isn't very deep, but I also am not writing any of my appledust as a set-up to a particularly deep relationship. I think they work well as genuine friends-with-benefits!

[acatnamedkitten]

RadioHusk: I missed this

Look, I know I'm a day behind 😭 but here's my Monday contribution RadioHuskWeek Prompt: Communication Reverse Trope Prompt: Too Much Communication 850words

Alastor had a habit of always saying what was on his mind.

Good. Bad. Disturbing. It didn’t matter. The man would talk until your ears fell off.

As it was, the bar cat had perfected the art of half-listening to Alastor as he rambled on. Most of the time, Husk didn’t want to know what the overlord had spent his days doing, so tuning in and out had become a necessity. 

Husk didn’t mind. If Alastor was talking, it meant he was staying out of trouble. It was usually only when the deer fell silent that you had to worry for your safety. 

And so, when Alastor fell silent one night while sitting at the hotel bar, every alarm bell the cat possessed went off. Husk mentally went through the story Alastor had been telling, searching for the cause of his sudden silence, but he came up empty.

“Husker?”

It took everything in him not to shudder, but Alastor’s tone wasn’t angry. It was… Frustrated? Uncertain?

“Yeah, Boss?” Husk cocked his head, studying the way Alastor was swirling the dregs of his whisky, staring into the glass like it held all the answers in the universe.

The deer didn’t say anything for a long moment, which just made Husk more and more tense. Just when the feline thought he would explode, Alastor looked up at him.

“Would you… like to have a nightcap with me?”

Husk visibly sighed with relief. Not at all what he had been expecting, though he had been wondering if/when Alastor would ask. “Yeah, Al, sure. Just let me close up quick.”

Looking much more at ease himself, Alastor nodded, throwing back the last of his drink and sliding it over. 

Husk took it, washing and drying it quickly, before turning off the lights and locking up the good liquor. He came around the bar and stood beside Alastor as the deer got up from his barstool and straightened his jacket. 

It had always been hard for Alastor to ask for things, which is why they had come up with the code in the first place. Granted, it had been over seven years since they had last done this, but Husk was surprised at Alastor’s hesitancy.

Then again, if he had demanded Husk come up with him, or acted like no time had passed, Husk would have refused outright. It was only because the deer had asked nicely, not assuming he already knew the answer, that the bar-cat accepted. 

The walk was long, but it passed in seconds. Alastor opened his door for Husk, letting the cat enter first. 

As always, Husk went straight to the bathroom to get ready. Opening the medicine cabinet, he found Alastor had put his things right where they’d always been. 

Smiling to himself, Husk went through his routine. Though he was always more thorough on these nights, he still came out in only a few minutes. 

Alastor, already changed, was sitting on the bed, fiddling with the brush. He looked up as Husk came over, clearly waiting for him to back out. 

But he didn’t. The bar-cat just crawled onto the bed, stole a pillow, and laid down. Spreading his wings out, Husk got comfy and gave a content sigh. 

Alastor didn’t move for a long moment. 

Husk was just about to turn and raise an eyebrow at the deer when he finally felt the bed shift. 

Cautiously, Alastor shifted around, gently maneuvering Husk’s wing. Finally, he set to work brushing the feathers.

Husk started purring immediately. 

Despite hating everything about his sinner form, the cat couldn’t deny how good it felt to have Alastor’s claws scritching through his feathers. 

Between brushing, preening, and oiling, the whole process took over an hour. Both of them were silent throughout, leaving the soft music coming from the radio on the nightstand and the crackling of the fire in the hearth to fill the room. And the purring and radio static, of course.

When Alastor finally set the brush and oil down, Husk rolled onto his side. While he rearranged the pillow, Alastor came over to lay in front of him, facing away, just as he always did.

Unlike usual, Alastor left a good foot of space between them. Grunting with annoyance, Husk wrapped his arm around the deer’s middle and pulled him close. Alastor squeaked in surprise but didn’t pull away, even when Husk started licking his ears. 

Alastor would never admit it, but this was what he really wanted. To be cuddled and groomed and safe. And if Alastor needed to preen Husk’s wings before he allowed himself that comfort, that was fine by Husk. 

After a few minutes, Alastor’s voice carried through the dark room, “Husker?”

Husk stopped grooming his ears to nuzzle between his antlers. “Yeah, Al?” 

Sounding like he was already asleep, “I missed this.” 

I missed you

Husk almost couldn’t believe his ears. His old, battered heart tripped over itself as he buried his face in Alastor’s hair. 

Eventually, he managed to mumble, “I missed you too, Bambi.”

Alastor gave a happy hum and promptly fell asleep.

[sleazysquid]

For the requests: Do you think Dabi is into any sort of piss marking? Like internal urination/golden showers, just filthy stuff that marks you as his? I've been thinking about this a lot and always kinda waver.

Smh putting me tf out with this one I’m in adoration omg. So many approaches to this it’s hard to choose one… but I really wanna fixate on the watersports, power aspect, I feel like there isn’t a lot of love out there for that sort of fetish so.. I might have gotten a little carried away with this ask…

This Is What The Devil Does (Dabi x Reader):

Word Count: 1.1k

Tags/warnings: female reader, HEAVY watersports action, a little bit of some power play happening here, scent marking, public humiliation (f receiving), established relationship, dubcon kinkplay, a little bit of dumbification and noncon pic taking at the end.

I’m definitely leaning towards Dabi being the one to bring it up at some point or finding out on accident that the both of you have a kink for it. Maybe via… starting out as a joke and peeing on you in the shower? When he’s in the comfort of your home, he’s usually kind and loving behind closed doors. In public though? He loves to treat you lower than dirt at times.

You’ve learned that at any point if you’re walking down the streets he can just pull you into an alleyway to use you as his personal, and quite beautiful, urinal. Depending on his mood he may or may not actually aim for your mouth. Not a day goes by where you’re not swallowing a few warm (sour) gulps of his urine, opting to wipe the tip clean on your hair. It’s safe to say most of his bodily fluids have been either consumed or worn as a fashion accessory now. You nearly die of embarrassment showing up to a league meeting knowing you fucking reek of his piss. It gets him off when someone asks, “god what’s that smell?” Knowing it’s you, and watching you slowly back away from group. Even through all the precautions you take, having fresh clothes to change into in your backpack, he finds out pretty quickly and snags the clothes when you’re occupied with something else before going out.

“How else are people supposed to know you’re mine? You said you were game for anything, so. I don’t see why you’re making such a sour face when I’m just doing what you asked. Besides, your tits look great when they’re in a piss soaked shirt.” He quips while tucking himself back in, lightly slapping your face before offering the same hand to help you off your knees.

Over time, Dabi’s grown confident in himself and this newfound power dynamic. You’re his and his alone. He may let the other men in the group make their snide comments towards you, but at the end of the day you’re the one covered in his scent at all times. But of course, it’s not just the power, or the embarrassment, but most of all the act itself. He gets creative, searching for more ways to incorporate piss play more and more.

What would be the ultimate conquest than to go inside? He’s contemplated back and forth about this idea— the health consequences perhaps… he does care to a degree, but how good it’ll feel to possibly both of you (but especially him). His communication isn’t the best in your relationship. Most of these bursts of kink occur spontaneously. On a normal night, he’s got you in a mating press. Your legs are a little achy from staying like that for so long. The heat from his hands inadvertently climbing up in temperature from how rough he’s fucking you. That familiar sinister smirk peaks up from the corners of his mouth.

“ ‘want me to fill you up, baby?” He questions in a low husk. The vague wording skirting around your thoroughly fucked mind.

You nod, begging him with your voice breaking with each jolt of his hips, “please fucking fill me up, I need it so bad!”

“Hah.. you asked for it..”

A sudden warmth surges through your entire body. His mouth falls open, a long sigh drawls out from the depths of his scarred chest. Eyes flittering ever so slightly from the feeling of relief, losing focus but trying to maintain contact with you. You begin squirming beneath him. This isn’t right, this shouldn’t be happening— it’s taken too far, you’ve been pretty open to everything he’s asked to try, but this is something way out of your comfort zone, something that hadn’t ever been discussed before. Clammy palms hold you down and force you to be even more of just a warm receptacle. His other hand snakes its way to your clit, forcing involuntary spurts of your orgasm follow suit; and coupled with the hot constant stream, it forces you to cum harder around his pissing cock. You feel so full from the ridiculous amount he’s letting into you. It overflows and dampens the sheets beneath you, dripping in every possible nook and fold while soiling his legs.

“It feels… so warm. I feel… so full.” You breathe out as the initial shock wears off and twists into dumbed down euphoria. You’re already so warm to him, so inviting. A personal slut who loves milking his cock for his cum, and now his piss. It’s such a strange sensation but you’re instantly fixated on it, on him, him, only him, and everything about him. You cry out his name as he empties his bladder inside your throbbing pussy, singing praises and begging him to start moving again.

“You really like it that much, huh?” Dabi’s face lights up.

“Fuck yes! Please… fuck yes!! Please start moving, I wanna feel it more, please Dabi??” Your dumbed down brain can’t even fully form sentences anymore, just little begs like a lost puppy.

You’re both in such a vulnerable state even with him having the upper hand, he can’t help but give in to your cute little pleas. His hips snap against you at a harsh tempo; creating disgusting, sopping wet noises that compete with the volume of your moans as his piss sloshes around inside you to a disgusting degree. Dabi’s not sure how long he can even last in this state anymore as you’re now fully intentionally sucking his cock in and out, creating a tight silky friction that makes him feel like he could cum at any second now. Arms outreach to him—inviting to become even closer to your body more than ever; you grip the fluffy black locks as he fixes open mouth kisses around the corners of your lips. With hands now on either side of your head, gently caressing, he chokes out beautiful breathy moans that fan over the shell of your ear as he spills hot spurts of his seed inside your spent cunt.

When he pulls out, a mixture of piss and cum flow out of your abused pussy. The filthy sight of it nearly hardens him back up. He’s tempted to try and coax another round or two out of you, but right now you look thoroughly exhausted and completely drenched in sweat. So he does what all great boyfriends do, gently lifts you up and gets you to the tub to help clean you up of course, but not before pulling out his phone to take a couple pictures. You just look too delicious and ruined to not memorialize such a feat.

3am: Dabi sent a photo to the groupchat

“I told you I’m keeping this one all to myself, you fucking creeps.”

[doe-eyed-fool]

Fallen {Chapter Five}

Alastor x (fem)Reader

Finally I turn to face Alastor, his eyes seemed to be focused on Husk's. There was an intimidating aura radiating off of him, as if he dared Husk to question things any more than he already has. After another second, Husk huffed and turned his back to Alastor, his attention on the various liquors on the shelf.

"Whatever you say." He shrugs. Alastor seemed to be satisfied with that answer and then looked at me. "Y/n dear, Charlie wants to have a word with you." He tells me. "

About what?" I asked, standing from the bar seat. "Something about your rehabilitation plan." I nod my head before Alastor began to lead me off. As we left, Husk turned his head to glance at me, shaking his head before getting back to work.

The walk to Charlie's office was quiet, I stole a few glances Alastor's way. He kept his gaze forwards, his grin ever present. Though he was a infamously feared demon, he carried himself with the grace of a proper gentleman.

His posture straight, arms folded behind his back, and head held high. I had half a expected someone with his reputation, to be a brute. A feral beast. And yet, he here he was, behaving like a normal person.

Well, sorta. I could tell there was nothing but malicious intent in those eyes of his. He was a demon after all.

"Do I catch your eye?" Alastor's voice snapped me back to reality. I had been staring for a while. I quickly look away and ahead. "Uh. Well, I've never seen a demon before." I answer honestly. "And you have dear ears. And the antlers too...And you're tall too." I mutter.

Alastor chuckled. "Would you believe it if I said I was shorter in my living days?" I glance at him. "Yes, I was around hm...five foot six before I awoke in hell. And now, I'm a strapping six and a half feet tall!" He says, a bit of smugness in his tone.

I hummed. "How long have you been in hell?" I asked. His staticky voice, and ways of talking made me believe that he was from the "old days". But I didn't want to assume, so why not ask? "Ninety years or so, give or take. Took my last breath in nineteen thirty three." He explains.

"Oh, and by the way." Alastor starts. "I haven't said anything to Charlie about your "sins" that caused you to end up here. She did ask, however, I held my tongue. I'm sure you wouldn't have liked what I would have came up with anyway."

I couldn't disagree with that. "Well, I've already made up my mind about it." I tell him. "Husk asked me and I just came up with theft." A huffed laugh escaped Alastor. "Much tamer than what I would have said. But it will do." I roll my eyes. Finally we reached Charlie's office, Alastor knocked on the door. Within a few seconds the door opened, revealing the princess.

She smiled upon seeing me. "Hey Y/n! Ready for your recovery plan?" I nod my head and put on a false smile. I was the last of the select few in the hotel that needed a recovery plan, but it wasn't like I had any say in it.

Charlie let us both inside, I took a seat in front of her desk, while Alastor chose to stand next to me. Charlie sits down at the chair of her desk, pen in hand and ready to write. "Alright. Now, what sin did you commit while you were alive?" She asks. "Theft." I answer, choosing to ignore the slight shake of the head from Alastor.

"What did you primarily steal?" She asks me. "Uh, money. That was what I was mostly after." I lie. "Is there any particular reason why you felt the need to steal money?" Charlie questions.

"Well, I grew up poor so I guess I just got tired of having no money." Charlie nods, taking in my words. "Did you buy any materialistic things with it?" I just nod my head. Charlie moves the pen up to her chin and bummed as she thought.

After a moment she began to write something down on a clipboard. "Ok, I recommend starting with giving back instead of taking from others. Perhaps you can provide a little community service or volunteer work."

She continues. "You don't have to do anything major right away. Maybe just start with the little things. Say someone drops their wallet, pick it up and give it back to them. Or, donate some old clothes to those who are in need of them. Then, maybe you can steadily work your way up to cleaning up parks and donating a bit of money to charity. Fairly earned money that is. Nothing stolen."

All I could do was nod along. I still couldn't believe the princess of hell was so caring and nice. Recommending I do little things to better hell. It sounded unheard of, but her enthusiasm and infectious good attitude made it seem possible.

I glance over to Alastor, he didn't seem to being paying attention. "And of course, this optional but. Promoting the hotel in a positive light would really help a lot. The more people we can get to try redemption, the better." She says with a bright smile.

"I believe in you Y/n. Before you know it, you're gonna be in heaven with all the angels!" I was in heaven with all the angels, until I was forced down here with no explanation as to why. Charlie gave me a few more pointers before she excuse me and Alastor. We walked out of the office and down the hall.

Along the way, I gave more thought to Charlie's advice. Maybe this recovery plan would help me in the end after all. I mean, doing good in the worst place imaginable could prove to be beneficial. Maybe this was my ticket back into heaven.

But then again, the more I thought about it, it seemed ultimately pointless. I haven't committed a sin to need redemption. At least, I hope I didn't. My memory was blank to what happen before I woke up in hell.

One minute I was in heaven, the next I was here. It just didn't make any sense. However, I'm not in much of a position to be picking and choosing how I return to heaven.

I was willing to do just about anything to go back, even if it meant pretending to be someone I'm not. I sighed softly before speaking. "Guess I should get out there and spread some joy." I mutter. "You're really going to do that?" Alastor asks me.

I shrug. "Might as well. If it'll get me into heaven, I'll do it." The demon chuckled. "You trying to help out the sinners of hell, is sure to be quite entertaining." He says with a grin. I roll my eyes. Right, that part of the deal still stands.

My struggle is sure to bring him much delight. We made our way to the lobby, I walk to the front door, only noticing Alastor wasn't following me as I stepped outside. I turn my head towards him expectantly. "I thought you were coming with me?"

"Oh I can't just walk out there with you, I'm an overlord dear. One look at me and those fools will be sent running for the hills with their tails tucked between their legs." He takes a step next to me, leaning down to whisper in my ear.

"But make no mistake, I will be watching you." A shiver ran down my spine, I quickly step away from him. I clear my throat before turning away from him.

"S-Suit yourself." I say before walking down the stairs of the hotel. When I got to the bottom of the few stairs, I look up at the blood red sky. Then I gaze ahead at the streets, filled with sinners passing by. A shaky sigh left me. "Let's get this over with."

[bleaksqueak]

Man.

So, of course, the rampant theft and disregard for artists has never been ideal, but Pinterest has always been an invaluable tool despite that since it's a paradise for reference and discovery (so you know, always tag your art.. .in multiple places. I started tagging mine with more subtle watermarks in the dead center since uploaders were cropping my tag out, even though like, with the elias respite image, it ruins the composition by ruining the card look and frame... Why do you want to crop my sig out so bad to ruin the composition lmao) Anyway Point being, I have gotten more use out of pinterest as a reference archive than any annoyance it has ever brought me. I've found some artists I absolutely adore using it, too, especially when people use it as its (mostly. sort of) original intended purpose, being a huge communal bookmark/pinboard... those that leave the links directly to the art/artist are saints. However, I really, really hate seeing it being over run by generated Aye-Eye shit. Especially since, apparently, no one ever told the Aye-Eye bros the common sense of "DON'T make the exact same picture 500 times with only an ever so slight difference, are you stupid?" (rhetorical question, ofc.) But it's getting harder and harder to keep the search feeds tailored because these morons cannot understand the value of quality > quantity, so I love being flooded with the slightest variant on the same gd picture over and over. I really hope this bubble bursts or the world gets its act together and outlaws it/heavily regulates it soon. I've said before I wasn't even completely against it as a potential for a fun tool back when it made actually cool dream-like collages of really wacked out whimsical shit, but even then it was like "... but you shouldn't have free reign to just steal to make this stuff. At least it looks nothing like the source, I guess?" but the "Better" it gets, the more uselessly souless and obnoxious it gets, and the more "well that's just straight up obvious theft" it gets. I see so ,so so so many recognizable styles , sort of just hollowed out husks, in these awful things... but hilariously, the more over saturated they get, the more they seem to just feed off of each other, and they start looking like the most homogenized, soulless ero-game style art I've ever seen. Anyway, I just needed some reference for a specific cut of dress pants, and somehow *that* started turning into a feed of nothing but the same soulless pseudo-anime twunk generated over and over and over with bulbous buttocks stuffed into passable pantsuit pantaloons. so I guess i'll just get my ref the old fashioned way - going to specific websites/blogs with actual photos. I'm just glad that for the most part tumblr and bluesky both are strongly anti-aye-eye, they're the only two places where I rarely have to see the shit.

[rnelodyy]

I cannot get over how Obsessed Belos is with Caleb. It’s SO wild, and the deeper you dig the sadder and more disturbing it becomes.

Like,,, Caleb was literally all he had growing up. Their parents were gone, they were (presumably) homeless, they were two street rats trying their best to make it on their own. Caleb was the older sibling, so the weight of caring for Philip fell on his shoulders, even though he was just a kid himself.

And considering the motif of coping through stories (Luz finding comfort in Azura after her dad’s death, Hunter finding comfort in Cosmic Frontier while trying to cope with the fact that he’s a clone), I wouldn’t be surprised if Caleb tried to do something similar for Philip. From Belos’s memories, we can see they used to play pretend a LOT. It’s a lot less scary for a young child if they believe they’re going on wild and wacky adventures than to know the truth – that they’re homeless orphans, moving into a community that regularly hangs people for witchcraft, with Caleb having to do hard labor to afford food and housing and sending his brother to school, while having to sacrifice his own education and skip meals so Philip doesn’t need to go hungry.

Caleb used stories to shield Philip from the worst of their life, which blinded Philip to just how bad his brother was suffering. To Philip, life in Gravesfield was good, but it was only good because of how much Caleb was sacrificing for him.

So when Caleb met Evelyn, of course he took the chance to escape his shitty life. It may have even been a situation like Luz, where he only expected to be gone for a short time, and either returned to find Philip gone, or ended up being trapped on the Isles for longer than he’d anticipated.

Philip, meanwhile, is fucking Losing It. Caleb was his whole world, and now he's just gone, spirited away by an evil witch just like those stories they’d been playing out their whole lives. It may even be a situation like King, where Caleb knew he wasn’t being truthful with the witch hunter stories, but Philip genuinely believed them all.

So Philip goes into the Demon Realm, determined to rescue his brother. He’s practiced this, he’s trained for this, he just needs to find Caleb, save him from whatever tortures that witch has been inflicting on him, open up a portal back to Gravesfield, and everything will go back to normal. So he travels, he meets witches, he kills them, he either gets cursed or discovers that eating Palismen gives him funny powers, so he keeps doing that.

And then, after years of searching, he finds Caleb. Not chained up in a dungeon, or turned into a frog, or a shambling husk of his former self, but free. Happier and healthier than Philip has ever seen him. 

Philip tries to grab Caleb and leave with him, but Caleb refuses. The witch who lured him away is his wife now. He’s got a house and a job and a kid on the way. He’s got a Palisman, this stupid fucking red bird that follows him everywhere. Caleb’s good here. He’s not leaving.

And I think Philip just fucking loses it at that point. What do you MEAN you’re not leaving?! We were adventurers! We were gonna be witch hunters together! We were going to do everything together! Did she do something to you? Did you just hate me that much? 

Caleb tries to de-escalate, but eventually loses his temper himself. We weren’t adventurers, we were street rats! I was working so YOU could go to school, I was starving myself so YOU wouldn’t have to, I sacrificed EVERYTHING so you’d have a chance at life! You’re old enough to handle yourself now, it’s time to grow up and let me live my own life!

Phil’s not having it. There’s a fight, someone draws a knife, and… we all know how that one ends.

Fast-forward a bit. Philip, now alone and stranded on the Isles, has latched onto the stories he and Caleb used to play pretend with. He’s going to make them come true. He’s going to kill every witch in one fell swoop, become Witch Hunter General, and he’s going to do all of it with his brother by his side.

So he asks for the Collector’s help, and together, they make a Grimwalker.

Philip decides that this is his chance. He can raise this new Caleb properly, make sure that his brother isn’t swayed by the evils of witchcraft again. The new Caleb doesn’t look exactly the same but it’s fine. Having him back is good enough.

And then the new Caleb betrays him too.

Maybe he befriended some witches, maybe he tried to learn magic, maybe he had some reservations about the whole genocide plan. Either way, this Caleb has gone the same way as the first. 

So Philip kills him, and starts over with a new Grimwalker. This time he’s gonna get it right. This Caleb is gonna be the one.

But he’s not. He betrays Philip again. So Philip starts over again, tightening the leash this time. New-new-new Caleb can’t leave his sight, isn’t allowed to talk to people without Philip there, because it’s dangerous. But strict parents make sneaky children, and Philip catches new-new-new Caleb making out with a secret witch partner behind his back.

Philip realizes he needs to change his approach. Caleb isn’t listening to him? Well, he’ll make him listen. He makes the next one younger, establishes himself as an authority figure (dad feels too personal, so uncle it is), and makes himself the focal point of this new Caleb’s life. Continuing to call him Caleb feels weird, especially since there’s such a significant age difference between them now, so he gives this one a new name.

They’re going to be witch hunters, so he names the new one Hunter. It’s hilarious when you think about it.

And so the cycle continues. Hunter is born, grows up, rebels, and is killed. Over and over and over again. Philip grows numb to it at this point – he’s already killed dozens of them, and he doesn’t see them as individuals anyway. To him, it’s like a game, resetting and starting over from the last checkpoint to really, really get everything right this time.

He adopts his new identity as Belos, and lets Hunter believe it too. He preaches to towns, pulls more and more power towards himself, with Hunter by his side, his Golden Guard, the most perfect version of Caleb he can make.

They keep betraying him though, so with each iteration, the leash gets tighter. The Hunters become more and more isolated, Belos’s power over them greater and greater. Step out of line and be beaten, show disrespect and be verbally abused, betray him (which can be anything from actively trying to stop his plans to making a friend he didn’t approve of) and be killed, replaced with another Grimwalker.

Belos becomes Emperor of the Isles, and his Grimwalkers become his right hand men, answering only to him. Caleb by his side, just like he’d always wanted. Never mind that the Grimwalkers are nothing like Caleb now – they’re submissive, desperate for affection and attention. They’re afraid of Belos, but cling to him all the same, because he’s all they have. He’s made sure of that.

A few years before the Day of Unity, the culmination of his life's work, Hunter betrays him again. Belos got too lenient, allowed him to take on a student, and now he’s got all sorts of weird ideas in his head again. So he starts over, and this time, he makes sure that Hunter will stay pure and obedient until the Day of Unity.

No contact with the other scouts. No scroll, no crystal ball, no leaving the castle unless it’s for a mission. Keep the number of missions to a minimum, make him associate getting missions with good behavior. Monitor his training, monitor what he studies, keep him safe under lock and key. Make him desperate to please, never quite give him what he needs so he keeps clinging to you for more.

And it works. For a while. At least, until literally a week before the Day of Unity, Hunter shows up in Philip’s mind. And I mean, Philip doesn’t necessarily want to ruin this one, but he’s always liked testing loyalty. He can make another Grimwalker after the Day of Unity if this one fails.

And fail Hunter does, except… he doesn’t die. He escapes. Goes on the run.

Philip tries to get him back, sends out search parties and everything, but Hunter doesn’t turn up, and he’s got other priorities now. It’s fine, Hunter’s got a sigil. He’ll die during the Day of Unity anyway.

And then he fucking shows up to stop him! Him, a gaggle of witch kids, and Luz the Human, and they nearly fight Philip to a standstill! They nearly get the better of him! Philip tries to guilt trip Hunter back to his side – surely he doesn’t want to hurt his beloved uncle – but then what does he see? That Fucking Bird. Caleb’s bird. This one’s DEFINITELY gone too far now, murder mode it is.

But then oops, the Collector gets freed, Philip gets splattered against a wall, and the Draining Spell ends. 

However, Phil’s not dead, somehow. He manages to shift his consciousness to one glob of goop that lands on Hunter, and rides along to the human realm, determined to salvage the dumpster fire this whole thing has become.

He gains back strength, spies on the kids, watches as Hunter does boring child stuff that’s absolutely nothing like how Caleb acted, until… Hunter finds a bit of his goop, and like a dumbass, sticks his finger into it. And Philip, who by now has gotten the hang of this whole Venom-stuff, crawls inside a wound, and into Hunter’s bloodstream.

And as he grows in strength, he realizes. This is it. This is the culmination of everything. Hunter isn’t Caleb, but dammit, he’s close enough. Philip can save him now, save him from these witches who have been a terrible influence on him, he can finally, finally complete his great work, with his brother by his side.

So when he gets strong enough, he takes over. Consumes whatever energy Hunter had stored in fat cells and his magic heart and uses it to power himself, growing himself throughout the kid’s whole body. Taking him over. 

He’s finally united with Caleb again, he can finally finish what he started. Never mind that Hunter doesn’t want this. Never mind that Hunter fucking hates him for what he did. Never mind that Hunter isn’t Caleb, never mind that Caleb would never, ever have wanted this, never mind that Philip is now the corrupting force, it does. Not. Matter. 

And then “Caleb” betrays him again. Because of fucking course he does. Philip literally fucking invaded his body like a parasite and made him kill his own Palisman with his bare hands, and he expected Hunter to just fucking lie down and take it? To let him do whatever? He robbed Hunter of his childhood, of his autonomy, of his personhood, and he expected the kid to not just accept it, but be grateful for it?

Well... Yeah. That’s how far gone he is. That’s how far removed from reality Philip has become. “Caleb” isn’t even a person to him anymore, “Caleb” is some kind of personification of his childhood nostalgia that he keeps trying to bring back into the flesh. And it’s not gonna work, because nobody could ever fill that role. Even the original Caleb wouldn’t be able to fill that role – in fact, that’s why Philip stuck a knife in his chest in the first place!

He’s lost EVERYTHING. He’s killed his own brother, he’s reduced himself to a parasitic goop monster that’s no longer living yet unable to die, the plan he’s spent 400 years working on blew up in his face, the realm he spent so long fighting for has moved on without him, and his latest attempt to create a new Caleb to comfort him not only rejected him, but actively despises him now. No fucking wonder he’s gone even more batshit insane.

I don’t know where the story is gonna go from here. Philip is still obviously trying to carry out his genocide, and Hunter is on the fucking war path now, so I have zero doubt that there’s going to be some sort of clash between those two. Hunter now also presumably has access to Flapjack’s memories, so him gaining memories of Caleb is also not out of the question. 

Either way, Philip’s just gonna become Even More Not Normal about his brother, and I for one cannot wait.

[threwedaway]

TW: SA, ABUSE

Someone said some victim blamer shit in my reblogs and that's an automatic no, but I needed to share... Because what the hell, man?

I got this reblog and I'm trying to keep my composure. This is probably going to be a rambling mess. I was just trying to make a fun little post about HuskerDust, but here we go!

I crossed out the name, because I don't know how old this person is and I don't know what their experiences are.

This will kind of go back and forth between Angel's situation and general information/experience. I think from what I've seen it won't resonate with everyone, but it is definitely within the realm of possibility and makes sense given his circumstances.

I also use the terms victim and survivor interchangeably as a fair warning.

I know there's been a lot of talk around victim blaming and this is blatant.

I'm aware this is a fictional character. I have, however, worked at multiple non-profits that focus on helping survivors of abuse and SA as well as being a victim myself. So, I am pissed beyond belief.

No one lets themselves be abused. Even in situations where someone resigns themselves to abuse, it is for their survival and safety. It is under duress and it is not someone letting themselves be abused. This person says Angel is doing an awful job saving himself, but in all reality he is attempting to keep himself as safe as he can in the environment he's in.

Husk isn't doing everything right and a relationship with the foundation of it being we both suck and we're both stuck in shitty situations isn't going to be stable, but as I said in my original post, he's telling Angel he's not alone. He's not doing that perfectly, but he's saying even if we can't fix everything I'll be here. He says we're in this together, respects that Angel doesn't want to be saved, and he takes the pressure off. He makes himself a safe place for Angel to vent and makes it clear that he enjoys being around him no matter what.

Trying to force someone can push them towards their abuser and isolate them further or put you and the victim in a lot of danger if you're untrained. Which is what happens in the episode when Charlie comes to the studio. Someone tried to help when he didn't ask for it and it ended badly, which just reaffirms that he cannot accept or ask for help without repercussion.

If you have someone close to you who is in an abusive situation and they don't want to leave for whatever reason, applying too much pressure can be counterproductive. If it is safe to do so (mentally and physically), be there for them. Try and keep the line of communication open so they have a life line if or when they're ready.

Angel is under contract, there has been a pattern of abuse for at least a decade, his self worth is extremely low, there are threats of violence against him and people he cares about and Valentino seemingly provided everything before Charlie and is still providing for his drug habits. That's not even getting into the intricacies of the fact he was trafficked, which makes things more complicated.

Aside from the magic piece of paper, these are real reasons people stay in abusive relationships.

My point is, this is uninformed and victim blaming. The amount of times I've heard from survivors all the reasons they didn't ask for help even though it was awful is too many to count. So many people come out of these situations after years and years and blame themselves for not getting help. It is never the fault of the person being hurt, it is always the fault of the person hurting them.

Angel is trying to save himself and is making steps forward. He's going to the hotel, distancing himself from Valentino and he's also trying to 'break himself' or make himself less appealing to his abuser. While that last one isn't good, he's not doing nothing. He is trying to use the resources he knows to stop the abuse.

Autonomy is very important in situations like this. Of course someone in this situation should ask for help, but if someone isn't ready it's not our place to decide that for them.

This struck a nerve obviously!

No one is a bad victim. We do not judge victims choices to ask for help or not ask for help. We do not imply any survivor of abuse lets it happen somehow.

Keep anything close to victim blaming off my blog. All and all, don't put these words in that order! Ever!

[yandere-fics]

♡ Dark AU Sawyer ♡

Sawyer, that was your mates name though you weren't sure how you had came to know that considering you had only met her once when you had been younger. You'd just received your first and to this day only soulmate dream, something that grated your parents immensely, they loved you but they couldn't allow you to drag a supernatural into their town, the possibility of a supernatural coming was too dangerous to allow, at least that had been what they said but it didn't feel like they had cared about you even an ounce as their hands wrapped around your neck and squeezed tightly. As your eyes rolled back into your head, preparing to accept your fate, she had swept through town, the sounds of bones crunching and screams of agony heard everywhere in your small community, then nothing and when you'd opened your eyes she had looked down on you with a smile, her face scaly and fangs huge, the hint of a long reptilian tail behind her, before vanishing. She'd left just as quickly as she had appeared, you almost believe meeting her had just been part of your dream and yet you had known it wasn't when you looked around and saw the corpses around you, your parents mangled bodies and the towns peoples dazed eyes, like they weren't people anymore, just walking husks.

You didn't have dreams anymore, there was no need considering you had already met your soulmate, she knew where you were, you would however occasionally hear her voice, you weren't sure if it was actually her talking to you directly or if you had just gone mad like the other townsfolk had. Her voice echoed in your head any time you did anything she didn't approve of and nowadays that seemed to be a lot of things, just being near the forest boundary made her displeased, the villagers around you dropping to their knees in agony for failing to keep you away from this area, crying out about how their ears were ringing until you walked away from the boundary and they collapsed to the ground, relieved at it finally being over. You were never punished directly, she liked to punish the people around you, isolating you further from the town because they knew if they were in pain, it had been your fault for not listening to the voice and though they were too under her control to ever harm you or be mean to you, they didn't like you one bit, it was your fault they were like this, if only you had died that day. You could see their feelings on their faces sometimes before their eyes reverted back to their usual blurry color with happy smile on their faces.

"Dearest, I sincerely hope you are not heading where I think you are heading." You rolled your eyes and huffed, she always assumed you were going to the forest despite you never stepping foot in their once in your entire life, you couldn't really understand why she despised the thought of you going towards the forest so much, monsters didn't even come within miles of your village anymore, not since she had set up camp somewhere near the forest, a big dragon within the vicinity being too off putting for them to dare approach you. Dragon had been what you'd called her though you weren't sure if that was entirely true, she seemed somewhat too monstrous to be fully dragon, neither monster nor dragon entirely, a mix of both and what you referred to her as really reflected more on your mood that anything else, anytime you were mad at her, it was monster, but when you were scared and wanted to reassure yourself, you preferred dragon.

Today however you actually were in fact heading into the forest, you couldn't deal with the villagers surrounding you all the time, completely obnoxious and terrified you were going to get them hurt despite all the pain they had inflicted on those with soulmates in the past and Sawyer had never done anything against you in the past so you were sure you would be okay, it's not like the villagers would be able to stop you, they were to afraid that touching you would cause them to drop dead, they could tolerate ringing in their ears for a few hours, you were sure of it and so you set off into the woods, ignoring her voice as she demanded you head back right that moment. Despite your hoping everything would be okay though, the moment you actually walked into the woods you'd been tackled to the ground by a raving villager, their hands around your throat, tears streaming down their eyes and blood dripping from their ears, most likely due to the ringing. You tried to push them off but they seemed bent on killing you, perhaps thy figured if you were in the forest then she wouldn't be able to see them as well and thus they'd get away with it, they were wrong because in a single second they were flicked off of you, your mate snapping their neck and glaring down at you.

"Dearest, I do believe I told you to stay out of the forest. Whatever am I supposed to do with you when you won't listen to what's good for you?" She crouched down in front of you as you gasped for air. Definitely monster you realized as you saw all her teeth were fangs, her mouth stretching wider than it should have, her giant tail coiling around your legs, keeping you from scrambling away as she lectured you. "I had wanted to wait to take you until you'd warmed up to me, and had stopped calling me... a monster... but it seems you leave me no choice dearest. From now one, I'll have to have you glued to my side to keep incidents like this from occurring."

[shithowdy]

Please tell us more about fallout Oliver (falliver?) did you like the show by the way?

You could say it made me... falliver in love....

That sucked, I'll workshop that one.

I loved the show!! I even did some fanart for it, I never do that! Like a lot of people it was my impetus to actually Play A Game, despite people insisting for years it would be up my alley and getting the old 'I'll add it to my list'. Seeing Cooper run around like a yeehaw maniac had me continuously thinking "oh he and Oliver would be such good friends" and once you start imagining an OC within a setting it's all over for you.

Considering they are both prewar ghouls who served in Alaska as power armor operatives there's a significant chance they do know each other (in WoW, he was a Silver Hand paladin before becoming a DK-- how could I resist the parallels). Maybe one day I'll draw them getting trashed on coke together.

Unlike in WoW, where he deserted on conscience in the middle of the Stratholme culling, he stayed with the military right up until he met an abrupt "retirement" in 2070 after a psycho-induced heart attack inside his armor, an incident that left him deeply traumatized and mistrustful of any sort of organization where you can't say 'no' to a command, which is why he refuses to fully affiliate with the NCR. The "good boy" payout he got for the incident allowed him to retire and purchase his dream ranch in the Jemez Mountains, which he and some fellow hands maintained for seven years until the bombs dropped.

My headcanon is that northern NM didn't get that cooked in the blasts (Alamogordo is presumably a barren field of trinitite, though), but his area was so remote that when communities tried reforming into city-states and pooling their resources, no one could justify the back-and-forth with limited transport options. So he released his small livestock and they all packed up and attempted a cattle drive toward Taos with other ranchers. But winter was setting in, and an irradiated storm from the north blew through in what would be the event that began his ghoulification. Most died, the cattle scattered or also died, and as an absolute husk of an individual he decided "fuck it" and went west with his horse to find the hidden vault that is his son's tomb instead.

And for 200 years he's chased that delusion, not knowing he's been looking in the wrong city the entire time. 👎 He did meet and fall in love with a woman (hi, Senkha!) about 150 years before this RP; they spent decades together and through her he gained experience with psykers and how to wall them out of your surface thoughts with constant music, but he also gained experience with the eventual understanding that most humans grow old and he doesn't. When she passed, he began distancing himself from people.

When he's not scouring the old LA metro haystack for a nonexistant needle, he does mercenary work to support his hobby as a scavenger for prewar memorabilia and civilian tech. His prized possession is a turntable he repaired (and the vinyls he's scavenged for it), and he also has a truck he's completely restored save for the fact that he has no power core for it. So he just sits in it and pretends.

Some mercenary work he did close to their formation put him immediately on the Legion's shit-list, a status in which he takes pride and now goes out of the way to cultivate to the point that he's earned the nickname "Matador" within the NCR. Now that he is traveling with the deserter son of a high-ranking individual in the Legion, life is about to get spicy!

So yeah, I'm having fun. I've joked that this is actually the setting he's supposed to be from and WoW was actually the AU, because my boy was made for this.

[oliolioxenfreewrites]

OC Intro Interview with Raelin & Garrick

thank you @the-golden-comet for the tag! this is the one that was robbed from us last night, by faulty electronics (not my fault for not periodically saving... 👀💀) this was so so so much fun to write! these two are adisa's backbone. they show her that even though the darkness consumes her, she still has a bunch of light in her life...

This is a bit of a long one, but pls let me know any thoughts or reactions! Feedback is always appreciated as well 🫶🏾

Today, we have Garrick Bramwell and Raelin Vespera with us. Rick is a loyal warrior and protector, and Raelin is a fierce and guarded fighter. Both have been through immense hardship, yet they stand resilient and strong. Let’s dive into their thoughts and experiences.

The interview is a bit long, but so where the generations. I couldn't sums by

Interviewer: Welcome, Garrick and Raelin, you guys are from Syrithya, fraught with conflict and angering civilians against the tyrannical nobility. I’ll make sure to start with something light. What’s your favorite thing to do to avoid responsibility?

Rick: (smirking) Honestly, I like to disappear into the woods. It’s peaceful, and no one can find me there. There’s something about the solitude that helps me clear my mind and think about everything that’s been happening. It’s a way for me to escape the chaos, even if just for a little while.

Rae: For me, it’s a good sparring session. There’s nothing like the physical exertion to take my mind off things. Plus, it’s a productive way to avoid responsibility – I’m getting stronger and more prepared for whatever comes next. Sometimes, though, it’s just about finding a quiet spot and carving a piece of wood into something new.

Interviewer: If you could choose anyone in the world to be your sibling, who would it be?

Rick: (glancing at Rae) I think I’d choose someone like Rae. Tough, dependable. But Adisa is my sister in spirit, and that bond is stronger than anything blood could create. We’ve been through so much together, and that kind of history makes us inseparable.

Rae: I’d choose Rick, no question. He’s got your back, no matter what. But Adisa too, as weird as that would be considering… anyway, they both embody the kind of loyalty and strength I value. We’re a family forged by circumstances, and that’s sometimes stronger than anything else.

Interviewer: What is the most sublime thing you have ever eaten and why?

Rick: There was this roasted boar at a village feast once. Perfectly cooked, seasoned just right. I can still taste it. It wasn’t just the food, though; it was the sense of community, the laughter and stories shared around the fire. It’s those moments of peace that stick with you.

Rae: Freshly caught fish, grilled over an open fire. Simple but unforgettable. There’s something about the taste of food you’ve caught and prepared yourself. It’s honest and pure, a reminder of simpler times and the satisfaction of self-sufficiency.

Interviewer: What was the worst day of your life?

Rick: The night of the attack on Zyx. I lost everything. Seeing the village burn, hearing the screams, and feeling helpless I tried to save as many as I could. It was the night that changed everything, it took away my family and my sense of security.

Rae: The night my village was razed. Changed everything. I was only 15 dude, I had to grow up fast—too fast. (there's a brief pause as Raelin clears her throat) Learning to survive on my own. It was a baptism by fire, and it’s left scars that I carry with me to this day.

Interviewer: What’s your worst nightmare?

Rick: Losing those I care about and not being able to protect them. That feeling of helplessness is something I never want to experience again. It’s what drives me to keep fighting, to keep getting stronger.

Rae: I’d have to agree. But also, becoming like the people we fight against. I fear losing my humanity, bro. Like becoming a soulless husk, in the pursuit of frivolity. It’s a fine line, and it’s easy to cross without realizing it; Kirjani had no choice, she was put through a hellish experience. I don’t fault her in the slightest.

Interviewer: If a monster asked you your worst nightmare, what would you tell it and why?

Rick: I’d tell it the truth. Fear of losing loved ones. Monsters thrive on fear, and it’s best to face it head-on. Acknowledging your fears gives you power over them, rather than letting them control you.

Rae: I wouldn’t give it the satisfaction. I’d probably laugh and tell it to find someone else to scare. Giving a monster your fears is like giving it a weapon. I’d rather keep my fears to myself and use them to fuel my strength.

Interviewer: Would you give away secret information if tortured? Be honest.

Rick: (serious) I’d like to say no, but everyone has a breaking point. It’s about how long you can hold out and what you can do to protect those secrets as long as possible. I’d resist as much as I could, for as long as I could, especially if it meant protecting Adisa.

Rae: I feel the same, but I’d hold out as long as I could. Torture breaks everyone eventually, but the key is to hold out long enough to find another way out, to protect those you care about for as long as possible.

Interviewer: Who could you trust most with a secret?

Rick: Adisa. Always. We’ve been through too much together. There’s a bond there that’s unbreakable, and I know she’d protect any secret with her life.

Rae: Lena. Without a doubt. Her loyalty and friendship is unwavering, and I know she’d keep my secrets safe, just as I have always kept hers.

Interviewer: You have been caught somewhere you shouldn’t be! Quick, what is your excuse?

Rick: (laughing) I was just making sure everything was secure. Can’t be too careful. I’d try to make it seem like I was there for a reason, to avoid suspicion and buy myself some time.

Rae: I’d just say I was lost. People usually believe a lost traveler. It’s a simple excuse, but sometimes the simplest explanations are the most believable.

Interviewer: How good is your sleep schedule?

Rick: Not great. Nightmares don’t help. The past has a way of haunting you when you close your eyes, and there are always things to worry about, plans to make, and people to protect.

Rae: Nonexistent. Always on edge. Sleep is a luxury when you’re constantly on guard, but you learn to take rest when you can, even if it’s just a few minutes here and there.

Interviewer: Do you have any siblings? If so, is your relationship good?

Rick: Adisa is like a sister to me. Our bond is strong, even if it’s not by blood. We look out for each other and support each other. She’s my family.

Rae: No blood siblings, but Rick and Adisa are my chosen family. We’ve built a bond that’s just as strong, if not stronger, than any blood ties.

Interviewer: What’s the toughest time you had to endure growing up?

Rick: The transition from childhood to warrior. The training was brutal. But it was necessary. It taught me discipline, strength, and the importance of protecting those who can’t protect themselves.

Rae: Same. Learning to fend for myself after losing everything. It was a trial by fire, but it made me who I am today. Stronger, tougher, and ready for anything.

Interviewer: What’s your relationship with your family like?

Rick: My parents are gone, but the memories are good. Adisa and I are like family now. We support each other through everything, and that bond is unbreakable.

Rae: My family is gone. But Rick and Adisa fill that void. They’re my family now, and I’d do anything to protect them.

Interviewer: Do you have any hobbies? If so, what ones?

Rick: Woodworking. It’s calming. There’s something therapeutic about creating something with your hands, something tangible and lasting.

Rae: Hunting and carving wood figures. It’s a way to clear my mind and focus on something other than the battles we face. Plus, it’s practical.

Interviewer: Do you dream often? What do you dream about?

Rick: Too often. Mostly about the past. The things I’ve lost, the people I couldn’t save. But also about a better future, one where we’re free from fear and tyranny.

Rae: Same here. The past and what the future holds. Dreams can be a way to process what’s happened, but they can also be a source of hope.

Interviewer: Have you ever been in love?

Rick: (pausing, glances over at Rae without turning his head to avoid eye contact) Yes, once. But things changed. We grew apart, and now we’re just good friends. Adisa will always hold a special place in my heart, but Kirjani and I both knew it wasn’t meant to be.

Rae: (glaring at Rick) Yes. It’s complicated. Love isn’t always straightforward, and sometimes it’s about finding a balance between your feelings and your responsibilities.

Kirjani: (appearing out of the dark corner of the room where the ceiling lights casts shadow) Aww, how sweet! I didn’t know you two were such romantics. Lena is gonna be so mad at you two for holding back on her for so long? Rae, you didn't answer the question. Who's the lucky one?

Rae: (blushing slightly) Ani? This completely mysterious person; you must know... it’s someone who challenges me, who sees past my defenses. Someone who’s strong but has a gentle heart. Ani1, I mean it that’s all you’re getting out of me.

Kirjani: (smiling with all 101 torture hijinks in mind) Well, well, looks like we have a mystery on our hands. Don't worry, Rae, your secret is safe with us. For now. Her archetype is a hybrid sorceresses, lunatic and trickster. Explicitly on no

Rick: (chuckling) You know she isn't gonna let this go now, Rae.

Rae: (rolling her eyes but smiling) I know, but some things are worth keeping close to the chest.

Kirjani: (grinning) Oh, come on, Rae. We all have our secrets. But you know I’m here for you, no matter what.

Interviewer: Well, that certainly adds some intrigue... doesn't it? Let’s continue. What is your least favorite thing in the world?

Rick: Injustice. Can’t stand it. Seeing people suffer because of those in power infuriates me. It’s why I fight.

Rae: Cruelty. Especially towards the innocent. There’s no excuse for it, and it’s something I will never tolerate.

Interviewer: What is your biggest pet peeve?

Rick: People who don’t listen. When you’ve seen what we’ve seen, you know how important it is to pay attention to the details.

Rae: Hypocrisy. People who say one thing and do another. It’s infuriating.

Interviewer: Would you consider yourself different?

Rick: Definitely. My experiences have shaped me in ways I never expected. I’ve had to adapt, to become stronger, to survive. It’s made me different, but it’s also made me who I am.

Rae: Same here. Different, but stronger. My past has forged me into a fighter, someone who won’t back down.

Interviewer: How far would you go to save a loved one?

Rick: As far as it takes. No limits. I’d sacrifice anything to protect those I care about, especially Adisa.

Rae: All the way. No hesitation. Family, whether by blood or bond, is everything.

Interviewer: Would you team up with your worst enemy if it was your only option?

Rick: If it meant saving lives, yes. Sometimes you have to make tough choices for the greater good.

Rae: I would. But I’d be watching my back. Trust is hard to come by, but sometimes you don’t have a choice.

Interviewer: What is the worst insult you can give?

Rick: Calling someone a coward. It strikes at their core.

Rae: Traitor. Nothing worse than betrayal.

Interviewer: What is the nicest thing someone could say to you?

Rick: That I made a difference. Knowing that my actions had a positive impact means everything.

Rae: That I’m trusted. Trust is earned, and it’s the highest compliment.

Interviewer: Are you a jealous person?

Rick: Not really. I’ve learned that jealousy is a waste of energy.

Rae: I can be, dude! I try my best not to let it show. It’s a human emotion, but it’s better to focus on what you can control.

Interviewer: Have you ever committed a crime?

Rick: Depends on your definition of crime. I’ve broken laws to protect others, but I stand by my actions.

Rae: Same. In some eyes, yes. But it’s about survival and justice.

Interviewer: Are you neat or messy?

Rick: Neat. Can’t stand chaos. Order helps me think clearly.

Rae: A bit of both. Depends on the situation. Sometimes you need order, other times you need flexibility.

Interviewer: How do you feel about crying? Let it out or hold it in?

Rick: Hold it in. But sometimes it’s necessary. It’s a release, a way to process emotions.

Rae: Let it out. It’s healing. Holding it in only makes it worse.

Interviewer: Who do you live for? Why?

Rick: For those I care about. They’re my reason. Adisa, especially. She’s my anchor.

Rae: My chosen family. Lena is like a baby sister to me. Rick, the older brother I never wanted. (she playfully elbows him hard in the stomach causing him to wince). And of course, the beautiful and sometimes... disturbing, Kirjani Channing. They give me purpose and strength.

Interviewer: Who has betrayed you most?

Rick: The nobility. They took everything. Their betrayal is what fuels my fight.

Rae: Same. They’re the root of all my pain. Their actions have shaped my path.

Interviewer: What style of accessories do you wear? Is it willingly?

Rick: Practical stuff. Weapons, tools. It’s all about function.

Rae: I would have to agree again, practicality over fashion.

Interviewer: Thank you both for your time. This has been enlightening.

Rick: Anytime.

Rae: Thank you, this was fun. Glad to share.

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