#My husband is a killjoy

[dismaldonut]

As I'm working in my office with the day winding down, my husband decides to go to bed early, but beforehand makes the effort to kindly remind me to NOT be up too late, and, "No gay British men," aka Good Omens fanfiction.

...Because I'd be up for hours writing or scrolling. Yeah, thanks, husband. Sleep is vital, I intend on passing out in an hour, but why call me out there? I feel so exposed lol

[v0idhaert]

scott smajor with number 7 for your spotify asks?

omg anon sorry it took me so long to get to this, but here: Scott smajor with number 7, Ghost of You by My Chemical Romance!

textless and bgless under cut, as well as really long ramble caption vvvvvvv

I hope this is alright! If nothing else, I’m so so proud of drawing hair braiding, that took. So. Long. lol, anyway yeah I also really like how Scott’s hair came out, and I’ve never made a third life Jimmy design before so I came up with this on the fly and I really like how it looks. But yeah, I saw which song it was and thought of them immediately, Scott was so distraught at Jimmy’s death in third life, (prepare for ramble that is mildly unintelligible if you are not really geeky about MCR lore lol. The main stuff you need to understand is that mcr has four albums, I Brought You My Bullets You Brought Me Your Love, Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge, The Black Parade, and Danger Days: The True Lives of The Fabulous Killjoys, and all of them have a lot of lore) like they are so demolition lovers coded, especially because of the whole back from the dead thing where Jimmy is alive and well in later seasons but Scott is still grieving him and the memory thing with winners remembering which means Scott remembers third life and Jimmy doesn’t, reminds me of like (from my understanding of the story, which is different from other peoples because MCR lore is very vague) the inner turmoil of the lover from the three cheers lore who went to hell, and his lover is in heaven and on one hand he wants to reunite but on the other he knows his lover doesn’t even know he’s alive (-ish. Not sure how much his situation qualifies as “living”) and feels guilty, thinking that she probably won’t even want to see him again, because he’s killed so many people and he doesn’t want to ruin her paradise (I mean she misses him too and wants to see him again but he doesn’t know that, and also he rightly recognizes that he is an actual sociopath. I’m not saying c!Scott is crazy (well, as not-crazy as you can be in life series death games. Everyone is at least a little bit off their rocker. Woah, parentheses within parentheses, what is this!?), but I am saying the guy demolition lover absolutely is. I am also saying that c!Scott has self worth issues. At least in my headcannons. I also have a similar headcannon for Joel. Maybe that’s why they hate each other, their mad that they can’t sacrifice themselves for each other and then decided a murderous rivalry was the only option/j ) but yeah so the torturing themselves over a lover who is both dead for them and also at the same time alive and well but unreachable and in a better place than them and wanting to be with them but holding back for fear of hurting them which ends up hurting them anyway (which is also a theme in the black parade, so ig you could also kinda compare Scott to The Patient, but patient always felt more Joel or Pearl coded to me. Also yes I know I already made a post about smalletho demo lovers au, but idk I can have both smalletho and flower husbands demo lovers I just like projecting my interests onto,,,,also my interests ig lol) is something Scott and the sinner demolition lover have in common. Also this song makes me cry. So much. Could barely even draw this through the tears lol/silly, and I’m exaggerating but less than you’d think. Unfortunately I am a crier. I also cry at Summertime from danger days, pretty much all of three cheers but especially I never told you what I do for a living, demolition lovers from bullets (btw for non MCR fans these are album and song names. Also the demo lover’s story starts in bullets with the song titled for them, and then is continued in three cheers for sweet revenge) as well as I don’t love you, wttbp, the end, mama, and famous last words from black parade. And those are just the MCR songs, not counting all the other sad songs from other bands. I am a CRIER lol. But yeah, thank you sm for the ask anon I really enjoyed drawing this!

[safination]

Partners in Death...and Life

Part 8: The Calm Before the Fall

|Part 7: Me and You In Eternity| |Part 9: The Vows That Bind Me [Finale]| |Masterlist| Ao3| Taglist| Series Summary: After a seven-year absence, you find the man you were married to in life, not only back in town, but also helping... *checks notes*... the Princess of Hell run a hotel aimed at rehabilitating sinners who were sent to the bad place for a reason. Pairings: Alastor x wife!Reader Tags: fem!Reader, AFAB, Established Relationship, Asexual! Alastor, Alastor is in hell for a reason, Reader is in hell for a reason, dishes, being a simp for your partner, Asexual! Alastor, husband! Alastor. demon!Alastor School is killing me. I have like an exam tomorrow that I should be prepping for. Somehow, this was more important

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Morning of The Extermination

The bustling of preparation echoes around the hotel, crowding the once empty halls. There’s a cannibal fortifying some stray windows. Every bang of her hammer rings your ears. Boxes are being dropped and discarded all around you.

The bomb thrown from Angel Dust’s friend doesn’t help soothe the pain in your ears, nor does his gunfire. They’ve been practicing some ‘special takedown moves’ since the crack of dawn. It was the same routine yesterday, and the day before that as well. It’s a small consolation that they’re practicing outside, muffled by the hotel walls.

Another booming explosion makes you wince, and it jostles some feathers right out your scalp. With a sigh, you pocket the strays.

Lys and Heme startle, bumping into each other as they follow behind. Lys glances around, taking a step closer to the group. Heme doesn’t seem too bothered by the sound. Their eyes filter around the tacky décor of the hotel.

Heme leans closer to you, whispering. “At least there isn’t much pink here.”

You snicker into your shoulder, and wave Charlie and Vaggie over when they round the corner. Charlie grabs Vaggie’s hand, dragging her closer.

“Come meet my interns,” you say and gesture to Lys and Heme. “They’ve agreed to participate in today’s extermination. There’s quite a number of cannibals fighting, so I thought I would call for some assistance.”

“That makes sense,” Vaggie nods, shaking their hands with a firm handshake. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Charlie smoothens the skirt of her dress, waving at them. “You guys all work together?”

“I was a paramedic back up top,” Heme says, waving back at Charlie. “Your cannibals will be in good hands.”

“And I was an ER nurse!” Lys gives them a thumbs up. “I never expected to become a doctor here in hell. The tuition fees are so much cheaper. I thought the fees would be ridiculously impossible to afford, but it’s practically free! A bit surprising since we are in hell—probably some kind of off-brand humor.”

“Neither did I,” you say, humming. 

Alastor insisted on paying for your education. It’s one of the very rare times when he refused to accept a ‘no’ from you. The tuition fees were being paid by him, and that was final. It’s good that the tuition fees barely dented his fortune, considering Alastor didn’t bother checking how much money exited his pocket every term.

“Shall we do names?” Charlie smiles at them. “This is Vaggie and I’m—"

“Charlie Morningstar,” Lys finishes for her. “I saw you on the TV.”

“From the commercial, hopefully.”

“From the news with Katie Killjoy,” Lys says. “You put up quite the entertaining display.”

Charlie laughs awkwardly.

You clear your throat a little. “This is Heme, and that’s Lys but we call her K sometimes.”

“You could also just go AAA as well.” Heme snorts into the air. “I certainly do when I see her in the morning. Her hair just puffs up like some kind of eldritch horror.”

“Absolutely not!” Lys elbows them. “K or Lys will do.”

“I really hope that isn’t your actual government name.”

Lys rolls her eyes, huffing. “And why would it be?”

“So…,” Heme begins, cringing a bit. “You willingly choose that name?”

“As if ‘Heme’ is any better.”

Another loud explosion jostles more feathers right off your scalp. Those go into your pocket as well. If Angel Dust and his friend survive the extermination, you will shove a bomb down their throat and smile as their blood streaks the fucking pink of your office walls.

You place a hand on Lys’ shoulders. “Yes, yes, you are both raging nerds—we get it,” you say, swatting your hand in the air. “Now be polite and say hello to Charlie and Vaggie.”

Lys and Heme both say their hellos.

Vaggie tilts her head, and some strands of her hair shift to her eyes. Charlie brushes some strands away. “K?” Vaggie echoes. “How do you get K from Lys?”

You smile at Vaggie. “If you don’t know why, then you don’t know why.”

“Well, either way, I’m so glad you’re willing to help.” Charlie’s eyes shine as she rocks on the balls of her fist. “I really appreciate how willing you are about helping out.”

Heme raises their hands in surrender. “Don’t thank us just yet.”

Lys shakes her head, rolling her eyes. “What Heme means to say is that we were offered extra points to be here.”

“It’s going to be dangerous,” Vaggie tells them, placing a hand on her hip. “Are you sure you want to be here? I mean…for extra points…?”

Lys laughs.

Heme laughs.

You laugh.

Lys grabs Vaggie by the shoulder, clutching it as she bores her eyes into Vaggie, pulling her closer. “I would do anything for extra points.”

Charlie’s smile stiffens as she peels Lys' fingers off Vaggie. She takes Vaggie’s hand pulling her closer, and turns to Lys with a smile that shows off her teeth. “I wish you luck, then.”

Somehow, you doubt if Charlie actually means that. Vaggie doesn’t seem to notice as her smile becomes a bit dopey.

Heme brings out their arm to separate Lys from Charlie, showing off their own smile. “We really appreciate that,” they say. “Thank you, your highness.”

Charlie places a hand on her chest, bringing out her hand to offer Lys a handshake. Heme takes it for her, smiling with a gentleness that would be foolish to believe. Alastor would love to witness such a sight. It seems he has trained the princess well, but your own pupil isn’t keen on losing either.

“We shouldn’t take too much of your time. I’ll let you guys go back to work,” you say, clearing your throat. “I’ll be here preparing the station inside the hotel. Lys and Heme will be smoothening the secondary site. If you need anything, we’ll be around.”

The group disperses and so does the tension. Vaggie pulls Charlie by the hand, and the filter off. She has to use the tips of her toes to steal a kiss from Charlie. Goodness! Not even you and Alastor are so unrefined to show off such cheesy displays. (Right…Right?)

You pick up a small crate of vials, hauling it off to its appropriate shelf. It’s quite heavy. Everything needs to be organized. It’s going to be chaotic once the extermination begins. Things need to be in order for quick and easy access.

The shadows below you flicker for a second. Alastor slithers out of your shadow. He doesn’t need to specifically slither out of your shadow. It could be any other shadow, but for some reason, Alastor chooses to pop out under yours anyway.

Alastor snatches the crate from you, inching ever so closer. “We wouldn’t want you breaking such a brittle back, would we?”

You roll your eyes, bumping your shoulder. The vials in the crate clink. “Thank you for bringing me here, Al,” you say. “I like this place. It’s a shame that I’ll have to leave soon.”

Alastor slots the crate when you point to the empty slot on the shelf. He summons his microphone with an annoying type of flare, using it to lean closer. “I doubt you actually think that.”

“It’s only because of the trees in your room.”

Alastor gives you a pointed look.

“Don’t look at me like that. It’s your room until the trees are present,” you say, crossing your arms as you lean on the shelf. “I feel like there are animals that watch me sleep at night.”

Another loud boom has you jostling into the shelf behind you. It ruffles the feather right off your scalp. Alastor inches closer, placing a hand on your ears to muffle yet another boom.

“If you step inside, and actually take a look, then there would be no reason to be frightened,” Alastor tells you, presenting the fallen feathers with a smile that shows off the yellow in his teeth. “It’s quite a nice place for a picnic. You would know that if you got over such ridiculousness, and allow me to take you.”

“Are you going to watch television with me?”

Alastor squints at you with annoyance but still, he places his hands on your ears to muffle another boom. “Absolutely not.”

You show Alastor the most innocent smile you can produce. “Then I’m not bringing a single feather into your forest that’s in your room. Although…I am eager to go to our home where there are no trees.”

Alastor shakes his head at you.

The halls are strangely silent. If you strain your hearing, the cluster of Sinners loitering outside catch your ears. How lovely. It seems the bomb assault on your ears have ceased as well.

Alastor leans forward until his bowtie reaches your vision. It’s crooked. You reach out for it, straightening it for him. The pads of your fingers smoothen the creases of his bowtie. Your hand trails down his chest until your fingers hook on his lapels, and adjust the fit of his coat. It’s all so solid.

He pushes his fingers on your cheek to force a smile. “What’s on your mind that’s got you frowning so deeply?”

“There’s much to frown about. I’m worried about you, deerest.” You fix his bowtie once more. It’s already straightened. “Scared, if I’m to be honest, and confused as to why you would volunteer to fight Adam alone.”

“Would you join me then?”

“I would.”

Alastor’s claws dig into the wood until a portion snaps away. “Don’t you dare.”

He pushes your cheeks once more, and doesn’t stop until you show him a smile. A reward comes in the form of a cheek kiss. His lips linger on the skin of your cheek, nudging his nose closer.

“Either way, what an absolutely silly thought. This is nothing I can’t handle.”

“Silly and stupid, maybe,” you say, turning to the shelf behind to arrange a box of vials that’s already been re-arranged. “Even if it makes me a fool, I am… unfortunately …a fool who happens to be serious. A silly, silly, foolish wife.”

“I only said it was a silly thought. There’s nothing foolish about you.” Alastor places a hand on your head, patting some feather down. “I would leave if you asked me to.”

You lean into his touch, humming as you take in the truth that’s being presented to you. “And what would you do if I did ask?”

“I would take you.” Alastor’s smile softens for a moment. It’s in the way he hides his teeth, and how his smile reaches all the way up his cheeks.

“Just me?”

Alastor glances around before placing a kiss on the very edges of your lips. It causes you to bump into the shelf. A hand shoots out to press back whatever that threatened to tumble off the ledge. “Only you.”

“What else?” you say, playing with the tips of his fingers.

“We would go to our home, and I would sit on the piano, playing while you do your stitching.” Alastor traces the ring on your finger. “Later, the news will play from the radio and we’ll hear all about how the hotel toppled and everyone died.”

“Why—because you weren’t here?”

“It’s because you would be with me, eating breakfast,” Alastor says, smiling. “Then we’d have our coffee. In the evening, I would come home to you and this cycle would repeat beyond eternity.”

The pads of your thumb go up and down as you caress his face, accepting whatever truth Alastor displays for you to see. “But something tells me you can’t.”

“Yes…but I can’t,” Alastor affirms, placing a hand over your hand to nuzzle further into your palm.

“Just like you can’t tell me about whatever mess that caused you to disappear on me for several years,” you say, trying to show him a smile. It doesn’t work. “You could have at least taken me. I would have followed you to the edges of this world.”

Alastor closes his eyes and connects his forehead with yours. His lips open and close as if there are words he wants you to hear. Whatever they are, he doesn’t say them.

Did you make a mistake? The question roars through your mind. Are you saying too much? Are you displaying too much of your soul for him to see?

“My, most precious, Al,” you call out to him, forcing a light chuckle and a smile as you swat him playfully. “I think I would have even settled for a goodbye or some assurance that you were to return to me. Look at me now. Ha! Oh, how you have absolutely ruined me.”

Alastor summons his microphone. It lands with a harsh ‘thunk’ as he it to place a glaring distance between.

Oh…oh…

There’s a proud and dismissive smile on his lip—it almost hurts to see such a sight. He uses the microphone like a cane, leaning on it as he divides the space between you and him.

You reach out to touch him, trying to shorten the gap he’s forcing.

Alastor inches backwards, ever so slightly. It’s the smallest of movements, but it hits you with the gentleness of a crashing wave.

There’s nothing you can do to hide your frown. Once more, you turn your back to him, rearranging a perfectly organized set of glassware on the shelf. The glass clinks together as you move it. What did you say? Did you say too much?

Alastor studies you for a moment. His eyes flicker to you. Somehow, you’re able to give him a small and dismissive smile before turning away to rearrange another box. The cracks are beginning to show again. Not in front of him. Anywhere, but in front of Alastor.

He inches his own hand closer, tapping your fingers with the very tips of his nails.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Three taps in quick succession.

Once more, you reach out to touch him. Alastor meets you halfway, leaning into the hand that holds him. You swipe your thumb on his cheek.

“Will you trust me?” Alastor asks you.

“Not when you smile at me like this.” Both hands go to his cheek, smoothing his face with the pads of your thumb until there’s only a tightlipped smile. It’s better than whatever dismissive smile he thought to give you. “But you tell me—should I trust the Radio Demon?”

“It would be unwise to do such a thing,” Alastor tells you. “But you can trust me, and I need you to know that.”

The cheeky part of you wants to be annoying, and ask who ‘me’ is. There’s no need to question it, not when you already know. It’s the Alastor when you are with him and when he is with you.

“Why the sudden question?” you ask. “I trust you…I always know that I can trust you, deerest.”

Alastor takes both your hands, holding it in his. He presses his lips on your ring, kissing the smooth metal. “Because there is a difference,” he says. “There’s a reason why I will not explain myself to you. Not when it’s much safer if I don’t.”

He pulls you into a hug, clutching your head to press you deeper into his chest. Questions swirl around your mind but the way Alastor cradles your head, brushing your feathers ceases all questions and heeds into Alastor’s silent request. 

You snake your arm around his back, clutching the fabric of his coat to pull him tighter. Alastor leans his head on your shoulder, bending his back to fully curl into your arms.

Alastor pulls you closer to the shadows, shifting you so his back faces whatever Sinners that could walk in. He pulls you even closer, arching his back to press even closer.

You lean your cheek on his head, and the base of his ears flicker. “While the thought is deeply appreciated, I still don’t like it.”

“I never expected you to.” Alastor pulls away to pick a feather off your scalp.

There’s a box in your pocket. It would probably be safer to leave the thing in your room, but you couldn’t part with it. No…not that. Instead, you slip the ring off your finger. “I want you to keep this for me.”

Alastor’s smile wobbles, and his ears flicker for just a moment. “Ha! Is this your way of asking for divorce, dearest?”

You reach up and plant a kiss on the edge of his mouth. “As if I can ever bear to get rid of you, my love,” you say, taking his hand in yours. “It would be hazardous to wear it later, and I can’t have it falling out of my pocket. You’re the only one I trust to hold it for me.”

The ring slips into Alastor’s fingers easily. There are two rings on his finger now.

Alastor inches closer, and your back hits the shelf. “Is that all?”

You play with the edges of his fingers before intertwining your hand togethers. “I want to keep existing with you, deerest,” you say. “I want to keep doing the dishes for as long as you keep cooking for me—”

Alastor places a finger on your lips, hushing you into silence.

The feathers on your scalp bristles as he shushes you. Part of you wants to chomp off his finger for such an audacity.

“I don’t want to hear another word from you.”

Your lips twist as you take in his words. Once more, you look away and rearrange some syringes that have already been rearranged thrice.

“You speak as if I won’t return to you, and even when I do, I won’t.” Alastor presses a kiss on your forehead. “But I shall keep the ring for now if it proves to you that it will be returned. How ridiculous you are.”

“Is that a deal, my deerest, darling, husband?”

Alastor boops your nose. “What is the worth of a deal when we have our vows?”

“Then I will hold you to it,” you say. “Afterall, it would be troubling to have to find myself a third husband.”

Alastor raises his eyebrows, trapping you between the shelf and his body. “That implies you’ve already had a second.”

“Oh darling,” you say, placing a hand on his cheek. “You are the second.”

“Am I now?” he says, inching closer. “How come I’ve never heard of this supposedly first husband of yours?”

“He was the most handsome radio start!” you tell him, flaring your hands as you smile. “But I prefer you much better. What is five years compared to decades of existing with you?”

Alastor’s smile widens to show off his teeth. “I happened to enjoy those five years with my first wife.”

You laugh, and Alastor’s eyes flicker all over your face. “Those five years were everything to me.”

“You’re doing it again—speaking as if you’re trying to convince me to stay,” Alastor says, softly. “I will return to you.”

“And I trust that you will.”

“My, most, dearest, your eyes crinkle when you smile,” he tells you. “Have I…Have I ever mentioned that to you?”

You show him your widest smile. “Does it?”

“It always has.”

Everything will be alright. The extermination will pass, and soon you’ll have that ring returned to you.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

The full force of the extermination shakes the building. Every boom shakes the walls. The chandelier jerks with every shoot of the canon. Angels fly above the glass ceiling, their swords raised with flared wings.

They’re ethereal.

What makes them fly? Birds have hollow bones to lighten their bodies for flight. Do angels have similar physiologies? Do their insides bleed the same way humans bleed? The things you would do to have their bodies splayed on your table, ready for your scalpel. And those wings…Alastor would love those wings.

You place a hand on your heated cheeks, sighing with delight.

What kind of smile would Alastor show if you presented angel wings to him? Would he be delighted with your gift? Part of you hopes he will. The base of their wings should cut off easily enough. They would look grand displayed out in the living-room of your home.

The shouting and clanks of steel jostle you out of your day-dream. Cannons mixing with the bombs and gunfire are downright excruciating.

The door slams open.

Someone barges in, clutching their arm. Their forearm is missing. The cannibal strides towards you, straddling what’s left of his arm. Blood drips down and pools on the carpeted floor. The bones that stick out are jagged, as if it’s been blown off rather than sliced.

You wave him over as Lys and Heme rush to your side, and ignore their own patients.

The cannibal takes a pensive sit on the cot, showing off what’s left of his arm. Strings of muscle and skin dangle from his elbow, revealing the long-jagged bone of his ulna. Holy energy corrupts the tissues of the skin and patches of his skin droop and fall off by the second.

Right then and there, you knew that there was no saving this arm.

If the holy magic isn’t removed from his body soon, then the death of his tissue would continue to creep up his arm, and corrode the healthy tissues that remains. That is if the blood loss alone isn’t going to take him first.

How absolutely lovely! This cannibal isn’t screaming.

“Oh…goodness,” you say, trying to fight off a smile. “This is the sixth one already, and it hasn’t even been an hour yet!”

Groaning and wailing echo around the hotel. Their desperate pleas for reprieve are ignored in favor of the cannibal with the corroding arm. Holy light consumes what’s left and burns his arm like acid. The cannibal’s face contorted with pain, biting the inside of his cheek to drown the scream.

“Deep breaths,” you tell him. “Once we remove the holy light, your body should heal right on his own. That’s quite lucky, right? Had you been human, I would have needed to clip some blood vessels and cut off your nerves.”

There’s a polite smile on Lys. “Do we remove the holiness?”

The blood on his arm pools on your gloves as you take it in your hold. “That would take too much time and resources, unfortunately.”

“Then…can we cut it off?” Lys asks, and her smile turns downright sinister.

You bite your lips, letting it quiver as you hold your smile. It doesn’t work. “I believe we can.”

The cannibal gulps as Lys and Heme crowd around him. Heme takes his intact arm, pinning it down to buckle the shackles around his wrist. They move on to his head. Lys makes quick work to chain his legs, and buckle his torso with the straps.

Heme takes a deep breath and sighs with bliss. “Shall I grab the morphine?”

“There’s no time,” you say, giving the cannibal a small and reassuring thumbs up. “If we wait, there will be nothing left to cut off...just a tourniquet, please.”

“Of course.”

You turn to the cannibal, pointing to your opened mouth for him to mimic. “Say, ‘Ahhhhhhh’. Can you do that for me? Ahhhh. Don’t worry, it’s just for your safety. Ahhhhh.”

The cannibal opens his mouth, obeying the request. A cloth gets shoved down his throat as Heme tightens the strap of the tourniquet.

“Hello there!” you say, smiling brightly as you lean down to meet his eyes. “Thank you for keeping silent so far. Try and keep it up! Don’t worry, I promise to be extra gentle.”

Lys hands you the bone saw. It’s surprisingly light as you take it from her. This saw is battery operated, and every bit automatic. One press of a button, and the saw revs, its sound reverberating around the busy room.

Modern technology is so useful! Back when you were alive, amputation was done using the strength of the person.

The cannibal begins to trash around to resist, but the straps hold him down too tightly. The saw goes through the tissues of his skin and muscles. He’s screaming now, his whole body taut as you press the saw deeper into him. The bone takes a second longer to cut through, but the force of the saw eventually wins over.

The cannibal passes out.

Lys inserts a morphine drop while Heme wraps his arm with bandages. They filter off right after, the thrill on the amputation obvious in their steps.

Someone barges into the room, cutting the line of Sinners waiting to be treated. It’s a female cannibal this time. She drags another cannibal in her arms, letting the legs drag limply on the floor. The weight of the body collapses her to the ground.

You walk up to her, placing a hand on her shoulders and kneel to meet her eyes. “Hello.”

“Please,” she chokes out, clutching the body tighter. The squish of blood squirts on your coat. How disgusting. “He…Help him.”

There’s a hole where his lungs should be. It’s as if someone punches a cavity straight into his chest. This Sinner is dead, and his entrails are slipping out this very moment.

“Do you know him?” You brush stray hair behind her ear. “Come on, now. Talk to me—Do you know him?”

“Y-yes,” she says, tears spilling from her eyes. “This is my husband.”

A stray tear drips down her cheek. You brush the next one away. “Are you hurt?”

“What does that have to do with him? I’m not here for me!” She clutches your coat, wrapping her fingers around the fabric.  “Please, you have to help. The princess said you were here to help. So, help him.”

The blood staining her palms transfers to the fabric of your coat. How revolting. You peel her fingers off.

“I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” you say with a bright smile. “You’re free to leave your husband in the deceased pile and pick up his body later. The next room is open if you can’t fight anymore. You could always pick up a stray weapon. Do whatever pleases you, but you can’t stay here.”

“…What?” Her teeth sharpen as cracks appear on her pearly white skin.

Interesting.

Had Rosie and Alastor not been on such friendly terms, you would have opened a cannibal’s insides a long time ago. It’s a shame the deceased pile will be used as food. Should you ask Alastor to negotiate a deal for one of their bodies?

Alastor … Alastor…Oh, how he would enjoy some angel wings.

“Toss her out.” You stand up and brush away the flakes of dried blood. “Tag the husband, then toss him on the pile. I wouldn’t want eyes to start appearing here. They’re rather creepy.”

You give the cannibal a small wave as inky shadow puppets drags her out the door, kicking and screaming.

Lys walks up to you, ignoring the growling wails around. There’s so much work to do—a break is taken when a break is found. “Wow,” she says, whistling. “That was harsh.”

Heme appears next. It seems they too tired of their patients. “It comes with the job.”

“Of course, I know it comes with the job. You don’t care for those you don’t care about.” Lys turns to you, smiling. “Hey doc, would you cry if we were here?”

“Probably from the loss of such amazing talent!” you tell them as if you would. Not a single tear would leave your eyes if they died. It would be deluded to think you would, but it’s quite a lovely fantasy. “I see you’ve been practicing—”

The glass ceiling shatters, and glass rains down.

You shield your eyes as Vaggie and some other angel crash to the ground on a dragon. It’s quite sad to see such a majestic creature go to waste. Should you preserve some of its bones after the extermination? Surely, Alastor would love some dragon bones…or perhaps its whole head.

Metal clinks as angelic steel crash against one another. Vaggie swipes her spear, but the angel dodges it easily.

This place is no longer safe.

“Evacuate the secondary site!” you exclaim. “Grab who you can, and…eh… just leave anyone who can’t stand on their own. Forget about the body pile. Just go!”

Heme nods and brushes stray glass out of Lys’ hair.

You grab your things, keeping an eye out as Vaggie and the angel exchange blows. Should you help her? Vaggie’s part of Alastor’s little pet project.... It’s not your fight and thus, not your problem. It seems you wouldn’t need to help. Vaggie’s wings burst forth, and uses her spear to dislodge some concrete to drop on the angel. 

A chain reaction of falling debris ensues.

It has you pressing backwards to narrowly dodge being crushed, and traps you into a corner.

Great! Lucky you. Love that.

Now, you have to climb your way out. Of course, this happens to you. The secondary site should already be prepared if it hasn’t already been run over by angels. The screams of Sinners grate your ears as you step on stray debris.

An angel bursts from the broken ceiling. She swoops down, plunging her sword through the neck of a stray Sinner. Ugh, what a waste of resources. If the cannibal was going to die in the end, then he should have just died the first time. How irritating.

You climb the rocks, dropping to the ground.

The angel turns towards you with her sword. You raise your hand in surrender.

“Are you a doctor?” The angel asks you, taking a step closer.

Fuck…

You take a step back. “Do you angels not have a rule against targeting medical personnel?”

The light reflects off the angel’s sword as she raises it higher. That’s a really sharp sword. A proper sharp sword. A sword with a very, very, sharp edge.

You’re running.

The muscles of your leg aches, and every breath you take burns your lungs. There’s something to live for. It’s not a waste of energy if there’s something to live for.

The building lights glitches sporadically. A buzz grows into the air, and tingles up the nerves of your spine. Your shadow spreads as if darkness itself urges it to grow. It climbs up the wall, and paints the whole space darker. 

The angel looks confused, taking a step back to assess what’s happening. A bright green hue streaks the edges of the shadow. Static builds. It starts off as a soft crackle until it’s all you can hear.

The symbols that carve itself in the air bring out your laughter. “Oh, just you wait until my husband arrives.”

An arm creeps out of the shadows below you. The bones are bent and the claws attached to the arm scratch the floor. A second arm joins the first one, pressing on the ground to haul itself upwards. Alastor climbs out of your shadows, and the air glitches with a sharp static. His antlers are growing, increasing like tree branches.

Blood drips out of his smile, and pools on the floor. Stitches appear on the edges of Alastor’s lips as his snarl widens to bare his teeth. Radio dials replace his usual red pupils.

Alastor presses a kiss on your cheek, the blood on his mouth transferring to your skin. A blissful sight escapes you. “Hi, honey,” Alastor says, a thick radio filter glazing his voice. “I hope I’m not too late.”

Green tendrils snake up the leg of the angel, wrapping around tightly. With a harsh tug, the angel crashes on the ground, trashing against her restraints.

“Not at all!” you say as Alastor’s bone snaps back into place. Gone are the proud antlers and the radio dials that strike your core. What a shame. “Dinner’s being pesky. Can I trouble you with some help?”

“Tell me you’re alright.”

Tiny voodoo dolls creep out of the shadows. They turn their heads, and their bones creak and snap as they turn towards the angels, crawling towards her.

Alastor grabs your shoulder, spinning you to face him instead of the angel. You try to turn, but he pokes your cheek then brushes the back of his fingers down.

His gaze harshen as he looks at the angel, a cold look in his eyes. “I’d appreciate an answer, my love.”

“Just went for a slight jog,” you say and take a deep breath to calm your beating heart. You’re so out of shape that it’s not even funny. “See? Not a feather out of place thanks to you. I just need a minute to calm down.”

Alastor turns to you, and it’s funny to see how fast his gaze turns from cold and harsh to warm and soft.“I thought it was a waste to run.”

“Well, it’s not a waste if you’re running because you have something to live for,” you say as screaming replaces the radio static. It’s loud and shrill, grating your ears. A woosh of the sword, but nothing seems to connect. “Aren’t you supposed to be on the roof?”

Vaguely, Adam and Lucifer exchange blows as they duel across the sky.

Alastor smiles at you, and there’s still blood dripping down his smile. You reach out for him, swiping the blood on his lips with your thumb. It leaves a streak. “I was.”

“Help me…” The angel reaches out. Its wings and part of its legs have been bitten off. “Please… Mercy … mercy.”

“Hush now, darling,” you say, placing a finger on your mouth. There’s a smile on your lips as you bare your teeth. “Mommy and Daddy are talking.”

The angel screams louder. She reaches out as the voodoo dolls chomp their teeth into her skin.

Alastor grabs your shoulders once more, forcing you to meet his eyes. “What happened to Adam?” you ask.

He inches closer. “He isn’t important.”

The angel ceases her screaming, but the sound of squelches doesn’t stop. What a truly gruesome sight.

“You could have saved the body for me,” you tell him, pouting. “I’ve never seen the insides of an angel before…and I wanted to gift you wings. I think you would have liked it.”

Alastor presses his lips on the edges of your mouth and more of his blood transfers on you. He brushes the dirt that sticks on your skin. “This one isn’t worth your time,” he tells you. “I’ll find you someone better. One with less intestines sticking out their guts.”

Somehow, your smile becomes dopey as the taste of iron fills your senses. “Oh, I love it when you flirt with me.”

“You have a very ridiculous notion of flirting.”

There’s a loud and sharp ringing that forces you to clutch your ears.

It’s like a build-up of power. The sound grows, echoing in your eardrums. The pain forces you to your knees, and you clutch your feather to muffle more of the sounds.

It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. Ḯ̶̝͝t̵͇͝h̸͚̲̐̄ũ̵̺r̵̰͎̈́̀ṱ̷͈̉̓s̸͈͕͋̅ í̷̠͎͠t̸͚̥͋h̴̖͌û̷̧r̸̜̉ͅẗ̵͕̯́͐ŝ̴̨ ǐ̵͈̀ṱ̴̻̂̐h̷̻̄͜ǜ̵͈r̶͕̣̈́t̴͇̝̅̕s̷͇̖̈́ ḭ̷̡̈́ţ̵̔h̸͕̱̿ú̸͙̂r̴̯̈t̶͇̖̄s̴̹̆ ḭ̷͗t̸̨͑h̵̭͗̄û̵̞͓͝r̸̭͚̐͌t̸͓̬̃s̵̤̎̂ͅ

Vaguely, you feel Alastor’s hand on top of yours. He presses into your palm to help muffle the sound. His lips are moving. It’s too loud to hear him. Tears prickle your eyes as you clutch your head tighter. He pulls you closer to him, bringing you into his chest as he cradles your head.

With a deafening boom, the building explodes in half.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

The dust settles eventually.

Light bulbs shatter to the ground, and the brightness of the morning streams into the broken building, illuminating the ruined hall.

The building cut in half. One large beam, and destruction surrounds Alastor everywhere. So much destruction, and loss of Sinner life that eyes begin to carve themselves on the very foundations of the walls.

Power drums through Alastor’s veins, but it would take more than one haphazardly shot beam to destroy the entirety of the Hazbin Hotel.

His wounded pride isn’t important. Not right now. Not at this very moment.

Alastor brings his hand up and down the feathers of your head, smoothening the ones that sticks out. Your shoulders tremble as he presses you into his chest, and he feels every shake under his palm.

The way he holds you, cradling your head with a tightened grip around your body, flares the wound sliced into his chest.

Every single fiber of him hopes you don’t notice. Alastor will take care of that later, and only when you’re safe and far, far, away the crumbling building. Not a second before that.

Alastor pulls you closer to him, even if the pain burns his chest. “Tell me you’re alright,” he says. “You need to tell me nothing hurts.”

It’s more of a plea than an actual demand.

He looks down at where he holds you, tightly pressed against his chest and crumpled between his legs. You’re both crouched on the ground.

Alastor pulls away, just enough to meet your eyes and not any more or any less.

Your hands press into your ears. There’s a blank look on your dusty face. He’ll clean you later. Safety first—you’re safety first, always and forever.

He trails his fingers until they hook on your chin. Alastor tilts it to force you to meet his eyes. “Come on, now,” he says. “This is not the time to be foolish. Tell me if anything hurts.”

There’s a strange look on your face as you bring your palms out in front of you. Blood stains your palms. The light that streams illuminate the space just enough for Alastor to notice the blood on your feathers as well.

It’s weird—strange, almost—how Alastor can hear the way his heart thumps.

“Alastor… oh god …Alastor,” you call out for him, voice an octave higher than usual. “I can’t hear anything. Alastor, I can’t hear. It hurts. I can’t … Alastor … Alastor—”

“I’m right here.” He holds your face in the palm of his hands, careful not to pierce you with his claws. Always careful. Forever careful. Always and forever careful.

You shake your head, trembling between his legs. “I can’t hear, Alastor,” you say with desperation. “I don’t like this.”

Alastor brushes a feather away, reveling in the way you call out for his name. “I’ll take care of that later.”

He pulls you back into his chest, pressing you deeper into him with tight arms. Even if the pain of you propped directly above his wound forces him to bite down on his lips, Alastor still holds you until you stop shaking.

He brushes his hand along your bake. It takes about ten minutes of sharp pain, and carefully labored breaths until you ease into his hold. Alastor would endure another ten minutes because he is your husband, and this is something he can handle. Even if he couldn’t, he’d still endure it for you.

You pull away, looking straight into him with eyes that shine brighter than the sun itself, and give him a bright smile. “Much better?”

A bright smile? Your smiles are rarely bright. They’re soft or gentle or wide or innocent or annoyed, and Alastor can keep on listing. They are bright, sometimes, but this is the wrong type of bright. This one barely reaches your cheeks, and your eyes aren’t crinkling.

It’s a smile for the sake of showing him a smile. It’s controlled and meant to hold your emotions.

Alastor steals a kiss from you, pressing kiss after kiss until your eyes crinkle. That’s better.

“Tell me if anything hurts,” he says, pressing one last kiss. “Come on. Tell me.”

“I’m assuming you’re asking if I can hear,” you say, and Alastor nods like he did. “The ringing stopped, but it’s all still muffled.”

Alastor brings you to your feet, clutching your hand.  The pads of his thumb go up and down. It’s a habit he doesn’t fully notice. “We’re leaving.”

You’re patting your pockets.

The shadows spread around you and his own clutches your hand, pulling it possessively.

It’s easier to travel alone, harder when there’s another person. It takes a significant portion of his magic to bring another person with him. Alastor doesn’t care, not when it’s you he’s bringing.

The shadows snake up, ready to transpo—

You push him away, stepping out of his grasp. “It’s gone! I can’t find it,” you mumble, whipping your head around. “It was right here. It should be right here.”

There’s panic in your eyes as you dash to a pile of rocks. It’s in the way your eyes open wider and your mouth hangs slightly open. Alastor sees every little detail on your face, even in the dark. Anyone who wasn’t looking would miss it, but he’s always looking.

“It was just in my pocket.” You’re in a frenzy now, digging your nails into whatever debris you find.

There’s a loud snap that echoes, but you don’t hear it.

Things were crumbling around you, but you didn't seem to notice. Or was it that you didn't care?

Alastor grips your arm, pulling you away. He narrowly saves you from a light fixture crashing right on your head.

You push on his chest, right above his hidden wound. Pain flares just enough for Alastor to ease his grip, and you pull away.

There are debris that escapes your notice. You trip on them, landing on your ass with a wince.

Alastor should laugh at you. He can’t find it in himself to do so. Not when it hurts in a different way to witness your push him away so… so effortlessly. The base of his ear flickers downwards at the sight of such apathy. Alastor forces them up.

He offers his hand to you. Still, you shake your head.

“No, no. nononono,” you tell him, pushing back. “Later. It should be right here. It was just in my pocket. Where is it?”

Your nails scratch the ground as you push away whatever’s in your sight to keep digging. The feathers on your scalp sharpen as you allow your emotion to take over.

Alastor grabs your arm once more, and he doesn’t care that your frown deepens. “We are leaving, now.”

Just as easily as before, you push him away.

“Stop being foolish!” he snarls at you, even when he knows you hardly hear him. “Whatever it is, I’ll get you another one.”

“It’s important, and I lost it,” you say, still entrapped into a frenzied daze. “I can’t lose it as well. Don’t leave me…Alastor, don’t leave me. Where are you?”

There’s a sharp edge on the concrete you’re trying to push away. It slices your palm open when you push it away. Somehow, you don’t pay any mind to it.

Alastor takes your hand, and kneels on the ground with you. “I’m right here,” he says, and shows the two rings around his finger. “I’m not leaving until you are.”

You pull on his hand, but Alastor grips it tighter. “I have to look for it,” you say, weakly. “It’s important.”

There’s a handkerchief in his pocket that has his name on it. Alastor takes it out, studying the stitches. It’s one of hundreds that you’ve gifted him. Actual hundreds. He counted each and every one.

“Nothing is more important than you.” Alastor wraps the handkerchief around your hand, holding it tightly. “Late me take you, and I promise I will turn every stone in this pathetic building to find whatever it is you’re looking for. It’s not worth your life. Not to me.”

Alastor presses his forehead on your shoulder, curling into you. Shadows pool around, and it grows with his command.

You’re pushing on his shoulders, trying to squeeze out of his hold. “Alastor…no, no. Please!”

He doesn’t listen to a single word. The shadows grow higher. Alastor tightens his grip on your waist, even as you push him away.

“Alastor, no,” you beg him, still pushing on his shoulders. “It’s right there. I found it. It’s right there. Please, let me get it. Let me get it, and we can leave. Please!”

The shadows stop. They recede back into him. It heeds into your demand because your lips were not meant to beg.

Alastor peels himself off your shoulders, swiping your cheek with his thumb. “Tell me where it is.”

You point towards a flipped couch, near the edge of where the building cuts in half. Alastor places a hand on your shoulder when you try to stand.

“Stay here, it’s safer,” he tells you, and your eyes scrunch as he brushes more dust off your face. “If I get it for you, will you finally stop being ridiculous by pushing me away?”

Your head tilts as you lean into his palm, but you nod. It seems you still can’t fully hear him. Alastor goes to get it for you. It’s propped up right at the edge. It’s good that he went. You could have tripped and fell right over.

The box is smooth against his fingers, and the paint has long faded away. All this fuss for such a simple box? Alastor doesn’t understand why you treasure such an item.

He tosses it, and the box lands on your lap.

There’s relief in your eyes as you grab it, and a smile forms on your lips when you check what’s inside. You look around, eyes fluttering until it lands on him.

Alastor’s smile widens into a snarl before he controls himself. Not you—never you. He offers a hand. “We’re leaving, now,” he says. “I don’t appreciate having to repeat myself.”

A crack echoes across the walls.

You take a step towards him, reaching your hands to try and meet him halfway. Alastor will take you out of here. Somewhere safer. Somewhere that doesn’t threaten the life of his very reason for existing.

The Hazbin Hotel.

The war with heaven.

Freedom from his deal.

None of it will matter if you weren’t safe. Everything he’s done so far will become useless.

Another loud crack.

The tips of your fingers are so close. If he can just reach it, Alastor can take you out of here. He can bring you to solid ground where you will be safe. Just one step, and you will be safe.

One last sickening crack, and the floor crumbles beneath you. There’s a soft smile on your lips as the shadows claim what belongs to him.

Beautiful.

You are beautiful.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Some of you really wanted Alastor to fuck around and find out. So this is him fucking around and finding out. I have the ability to do the funniest thing ever and just…end the series here <3. Reader fell and that’s it. The end. Gosh, I really hope at least one of you know how K and AAA are taken from Lys. T___T Id be such a nerd if at least one of you didn’t huhuhuhuhu Writing for Alastor is like, just so fun. He’s such a meticulous character so everything he says and the way he says it has a double meaning. Taglist: @mybrainsautocorrect @ray-rook @valentique @qardasngan @valentique @teavibesaf @tobyisher3 @amoraneuro @okay-babe @alastorssimp @aestheticgals-blog @reikamasama @slaggylemon @lyralibra @holymusicalmothman @amoraneuro @littledolly2345 @b-o-n-e-daddy @infinitefox @ayyyyyy-vase @kny-kween @thehiddenvase @stclen-sweethearts @obessivlyonline

[winepresswrath]

if she does to "but daddy i love him" what she did to romeo, juliet, and my girl hester i will not forgive her.

im sorry i like taylor swift but must she come for but daddy i love him? doesn't she have enough.

[lilac-5ky]

The one where he carries you home after a fight (Toji xFem!Reader)

A/N: My 7AM sleepless demons wrote this, not me.

warning: mentions of alcohol

Series Masterlist

“Thanks for coming, Toji. She wanted us to hit Roppongi next.”

“No problem.” Toji mutters as he lifts your limp body over his shoulders—arms thrown over his neck and knees buckled around his torso.

He nearly winces at the overwhelming stench of tequila emanating from your breath, praying that the wetness seeping through his shirt is drool and not vomit, though that’s more like wishful thinking. You are wasted. Completely and utterly drunk out of your mind to the point where you can’t differentiate the setting or those around him.

“Mistah, drop me off at the next station,” you slur with your eyes closed, pointing somewhere on the horizon before nodding off again. This was the third time you repeated that motion.

“How much did ya make her drink?” Toji doesn’t ask so much as accuse the two women, who are quick to shut him down with the dirtiest of looks. Nothing new. Your friends never liked him, and the feeling’s mutual.

“Make her?” Utahime huffs, rolling her sleeves over her elbows. “She’s the one who dragged us out on a Tuesday night. If anything, you’re the one to blame—you pushed her to it!”

“Senpai, calm down already.” Shoko lowers her friend’s fists. Out of the two, she’s the better one at acting like she tolerates him. “What did you fight over, anyway?”

“She didn’t tell you?”

With the way you stormed out the door in your finest high-heel shoe, black party dress, and red lipstick combo, he’d expect your lovers quarrel to make headlines by midnight.

However, they both shake their heads negatively.

“Who knows?” Toji flashes an oblivious smile before he gets you going. You were so angry at him earlier, and in all honesty, he did cross a line or two, but it doesn’t feel all that important now. Come tomorrow, this will become just another entry in your record of petty arguments to look back on and laugh at.

You’ve made it halfway up the slope that leads to your crappy apartment building when he catches you flailing around on his back like a fish fresh out of water. He slots his hands into the crevices beneath your thighs, applying enough pressure so that you won’t fall.

“Rise and shine, sleepy-head.”

Your slow blinks turn rapid the second you realize your feet aren’t touching the ground and you’re piggybacking on a stranger. “W-Who are you?”

“Ya don’t remember?” Toji rolls his eyes with a loud tsk. “What was it again? Mister Taxi? Mister Killjoy? Or Mister Buzzkill?” He goes through the different names you bestowed on him in your sleep.

“Mister… Buzzkill?” Your jaw drops slack on his shoulder, only for your palms to clap at his chest in excitement a minute later. “Mister Buzzkill, I remember! You kidapped me from my friends and spoiled our fun!”

“More like your friends got sick of your ass and called me to pick up the pieces.” He argues. “Hold on tight if ya don’t wanna fall. Climb’s steep from now on.”

Strength returns to your arms as they cage his neck. “Where are you taking me, Mister Buzzkill? Are we going to party?”

“Don’tcha think you’ve had enough partying for one night, princess?” He grunts. “We’re goin’ home.”

“Home? Whose home?”

Toji’s starting to miss the you that nags him about not soaking his dirty dishes. Alcohol always chips away at your mental capacity, and while he wants to be understanding, he can’t understand that which he’s never experienced for himself. “Our home, dummy.”

The epithet doesn’t faze you in the slightest. “Are you going to exploit me?”

“Prospect makes you happy?” You hum in return. “Fine. You can pay for the ride once we make it home.”

“But…” And you sound so sad that he cocks his head to peer at your face, glassy, puppy eyes welling up with fat tears that make him wonder whether he said something hurtful again. “I don’t have any money. My husband said we’re out of money ‘cause he—he gambled it away.”

The cogs in his brain are put in reverse, reminding him of the cash he snatched from your open wallet with the intention of waging it on a guaranteed victory and the little white lie you took at face value. You didn’t even give him the chance to explain that the bills were still in his pocket because the race was called off, and he let you run off to your friends without offering a single apology.

“I’m sure we’ll work something out.” Toji squeezes your thighs reassuringly. “Ya can pay me back in kind, too.”

“But my husband—”

“Your husband is a shithead.” He spits out, hoping that his remorse registers without leaving behind any actual trace of his words.

“You are so kind, Mister Buzzkill. Unlike him—my Toji.” The fingers of your one hand pull on your wedding band until it comes off. “Wanna marry me again, Mister…Toji?”

Shaking his head in disbelief, Toji catches the wedding band right before it slips from your fingers to the street. Part of him wants to scold you for being a scatterbrained nuisance, but the part of him that finds even your plastered form endearing comes out on top.

He slides the ring around the ring finger of his ring-less hand and pieces your hands together, holding onto them until you finally reach the front door and you’re sober enough to call him by his name.

“A’right, we’re here.” Toji declares once the key’s inside the hole.

He calls out your name and shakes you softly, but there’s no answer coming from you other than a single embarrassingly loud snore. He lets go of your legs and slowly puts your feet on the floor before hoisting them up in the air again, shifting to carrying you into bridal position. Your hands reach around his neck on their own volition, and he swears your lips curl into the softest smile when your nose pressed against his shirt.

He sighs, parting the hair that’s fallen inside your agape mouth.

“What am I gonna do with you?”

[chaoticace2005]

Charlie Morningstar’s list of people to be aggressively kind to:

-Nobody, it’s so mean!

-Valentino. (Sorry Angel!)

-Adam, make him understand what I’m trying to do. Or at least stop being a dick.

-Lute, similar reasons at Adam. Maybe she just needs to hear me out!

-Alastor, so he opens up more!

-Vox? Try to work out what his issues with Alastor so he stops harassing the hotel. And stops telling Pentious to KILL HIMSELF.

-Katie Killjoy.

-Sera.

-People of Heaven.

-Susan.

-Angel’s brother, see if we can work out their differences!

-Angel’s father, maybe? Boundaries but also sometimes it takes that push like with me and dad? See what Angel thinks though.

-Person who made the Alastor body pillow, just… why?

-People who make them uncomfortable. Tell them it’s wrong and try to get them to stop.

-Vaggie said I should add people who make ME uncomfortable.

-People who say ducks suck. It really makes my dad sad. Inform them of the myriad of reasons why ducks do not, in fact, suck.

-People who try to interrupt my friends’ dates. Try to get them to leave.

Vaggie was right, being aggressively kind doesn’t work all the time. And while hurting people is bad, I may have to resort to different tactics if they continue to hurt people I can about. If this hotel has taught me anything it’s that morality is complicated, and nothing is worth my loved ones getting hurt.

Charlie’s would like to hit list:

-Exorcists (not ex-exorcists like Vaggie or those that feel remorse)

-ADAM AND LUTE. THEY HURT VAGGIE.

-VALENTINO.

-Anyone who uses Angel or tries to tell him all he’s good for is sex or touches him in any way he doesn’t consent to.

-People in Heaven who know about the genocide and continue to allow this to happen.

-Angel’s dad.

-Niffty’s ABUSIVE ex husband.

-Husk’s dad. (Why do all my friends have shitty dads?)

-Vox and Velvette for knowing about and contributing to Angel’s abuse.

-Anyone who hurts Fat Nuggets, Kee Kee, or Razzle. Why would anyone do that?!

-Anyone who hurts my family.

-Really anyone on the other list that continues to knowingly hurt others.

-Alastor for hurting and betraying us. I trusted you.

-WHOEVER is hurting Alastor.

-Mom

-Mom?

-Mom.

That’s all! :) If someone happens to find this list know that this is not with intent to hurt anyone! Just people I should really talk to…

But if talking doesn’t work…

[myunghology]

NOWAY SO UM, i was thinking of a prompt and then i remembered i haven’t seen this theme on ritsu so…

maybe a fic of knight!ritsu and reader being a princess/prince :3?

i have like two ideas for the fic, you can choose the one you like; the first time they meet or being in a secret relationship

Or maybe mix both 👀… ( /j but if you want oke :3 )

and em that’s all, i like your fics and smau, I’m your biggest fan wuuuu :3

✦ — REWRITE, IGNITE, RESTART.

summary a normal day in a royal highschool, you find yourself seeking warmth of a young knight, despite meeting him for the „first” time.

pairings ritsu sakuma x gender neutral! reader, ft knights <3, prince/ss x knight au!

warnings none!! wee bit of an ever after high au but i just stole the 'royal and rebel' group things for inspo HAHHA

a/n if only.

Right. How cliché. A school that seperates students from their origins.. You would complain, but it's not like you could do anything about it. You've made friends here, anyways.

Students separated into two groups— one's with direct Royal status, and one's far from it— or one's who usually served for them. This sounds scandalous, but it really isn't.

Take your friends for example! Tsukasa Suou, the next heir to his family. Of course he was bound to be famous for it. You were also included in that group— the only child of a queen! Obviously, you were close with Suou.

Hmm, yes. Him and his friend group of Knights. And one princess. You'd be lying if you said you didn't have a small girl crush on Arashi.

— "I have never said that! What on earth are you babbling about?!" You snap out if your thoughts as you hear the young heirs voice from across the school's halls, he seems to be arguing with one of his friends again, your eye twitching from the sudden noise.

You approach the noise, seeing the short ex-king, now bound to be a knight. And the up and coming king, Ah. What an old sight. Tsukasa Suou and Leo Tsukinaga, as always.

"Suo~ I was just kidding! You always take jokes seriously.. You're such a killjoy!" Leo growls at him as Tsukasa closes his eyes, as if bracing for impact. My God, don't they get tired from bickering all day?

You feel fingers hands tap you on your shoulder, you turn around and see Arashi standing in front of you. And thus— you can't hold in your complaint anymore.

"Don't they get tired from arguing all day? I feel like I want to shit myself from how much they do it. It's the fifth time this week and it's Wednesday!" You whine, making the young princess in front of you giggle.

"You'll get used to it soon enough," She teases playfully, as the sight unfolds, Sena ironically joining the argument. You sigh, whilst Arashi shakes her head and changes the topic.

"Anyway, love, have you seen Ritsu?" She asks, as you try to hide the visible blush on your face. "No.. Didn't see him in alchemy classes today, actually." You answer, pouting.

"You miss your husband, don't you?" She laughs at your pout, but somehow still managing to tease you. "Don't even... My own parents don't even know that me and Ritsu know each other." You complain internally.

The princess tilts her head, "Seriously?" She asks in pity, your pout slowly getting more visible, as she takes that as a 'yes'.

The day passes by quickly, you find yourself seeking for the young Knight. As a response— you end up going to his favorite sleeping places.

Haaa..~ the young Sakuma. Always wandering around. No wonder why this guy was distantly related to the Cheshire Cat. He was almost exactly like him.

The sun is almost about to set, the school's yard still looking as beautiful as it's always been. You've usually found Ritsu here when he wasn't in classes, I mean.. Who wouldn't? It's gorgeous.

You feel a hand cover your eyes, a frown plastering your face before a voice perks up. "Guess who?"

What a familiar voice. Wow, who could it be?

"Ritsu. I'll kill you." You scowl at him as the male scoff, removing his hand. "Language," Ritsu warned, before ruffling your hair, messing it up slightly.

"I'm sorry, my prince/ss. Do you want me to give you my lap for your royal nap needs? Want a pillow? A blanket, too?"

Ritsu could not be more sarcastic and teasing if he tried.

"What do you mean, 'Language'? I didn't even swear." A tired groan comes out of your lips as you say that, making him laugh. "What's up? You wanted to find me, no?"

". . . . Nuh uh."

"Hah."

"I'm gonna go back home for summer break. You coming with me?" You ask, raising an eyebrow slightly. Ah. That's what it was.

"So.. To put it in words, you're leaving me?" Ritsu asks, cocking his head to the side, replicating your eyebrow raise. "I literally just asked you if you wanted to stay with me." You huff, turning away from him.

"Nah, nah, nah, nah, nah..." He whined, tugging on your hand before you got too far away. As if he already knew you were about to walk away.

"You'll get lost without me. And you'll get into trouble. Don't do that. You're mine, remember?" If anything, Ritsu couldn't stand boredom. He would rather spend his time with his prince/ss than lay around alone and have nothing to do.

"You're usually the one who gets me into trouble." You retort, trying to pull away from his grip, but it was already inevitable.

"... True... true..." He muses, a smirk spreading across his face as he kept his grip on you. "But you love me, remember?"

Ah yes. How could one forget Ritsu's insufferable teasing?

"Unfortunately." A pout plastered on your face, the knight letting out another scoff, shaking his head.

Ritsu gave you a teasing, slightly mocking gasp as he pretended to be offended at such a dry response. "You wound me. Here I am, trying to be a loving, supportive boyfriend, and you're giving me a unfortunately? Where's the 'I love you too?' or the I love you more?'" He groaned dramatically, putting his hand to his forehead.

"You aren't answering my question." Deadpanning, glaring at him as he sighs and caves in. "I can't.." He mutters unexpectedly, making your eyes widen.

That was a rare answer.

The male offers to take you back to your palace, a pout placed on your face the whole way there. Seeing this chance— Ritsu obviously teased you the whole way home.

The sun sets quickly and you're already back, your eye twitching once you hear from your mother to get changed into something proper, as something important came up.

You were now standing, right in the middle of the great hall with your parents, head tilted in confusion.

Until—

"Ah, yes! [Name], my darling," Your mother calls out, before continuing. "We've hired someone new for you— to keep you safe. After what happened before.. I wouldn't even dare to let you out our sight!" She exaggerates, making your head tilt.

"So.. Who's gonna be following me around this time?" You ask, sucking in a sharp breath through your teeth before a smooth voice interrupts you— your eyes widening.

"I'm sorry I'm late. Wouldn't be so much of a knight if I was late to meeting you, now would I?" You freeze as a familiar voice comes from behind you as you quickly turn around, seeing the same black haired male you once saw earlier.

Your dad smiles unknowingly, "Ritsu Sakuma, he's gonna be by your side 24/7, from now on!" You laugh sheepishly, before retorting. "Not in my sleep too, right?"

"Do you want me to?" He hums right next to your ear, making you shiver. "No- I just.."

"Relax, [Name]. Me and your mother will go out for just a short amount of time, so he'll be here to keep you safe for the time being." Your father says— in a rather calm voice. "I can take care of myself.."

"Sure you can."

myunghology: part 2 when hahahah idk bro

[fatigue-d]

CHARLOS!!! The kind of trope that screams i miss my husband , or he wouldve done this if he was still here since they pretty much are divorced now

"I miss you "

Word : around 1 K

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

Charles moved gently under his sheets, his skin shivering from the cold. After almost four years with a certain Spaniard, he had forgotten how lonely it could be to sleep alone in a bed three times his size. He had got used to his husband's light snores, Spanish words whispered in the night. The memory of a vanished warmth engulfing his body, he had tried to hold on to it as best he could, trying to rediscover the softness and comfort that had lulled him through the nights, but nothing had helped, Carlos was no longer there, and everything in their house was a reminder of that.

His old toothbrush was still in the bathroom, sitting next to the Monegasque's, the two objects forming a pair so inescapable that Charles was obliged to abandon his own to buy a new one, unable to throw both away.

The kitchen cupboards were always full of products straight from Spain, sauces, pastes, spices, all used by Carlos, most of the time to reproduce the recipes of his beloved mother, which Charles was delighted to taste, although he didn't know how the dark-haired man managed to make these recipes so delicious.

If you looked at the entrance to the flat, as Charles sometimes did when he was bored, you could see a bag full of golf clubs. They had been put there after Carlos had the unfortunate tendency to drop things in his haste after being told about a round of golf by his friends. So, whenever the Spaniard wanted to go out, he had his clubs close to him. An ingenious decision by a more carefree Charles, a bitter reminder of his companion's absence for a mature Charles, but one that Carlos would surely have called a killjoy.

The previously bright flat seemed far more macabre, part of it being shamelessly ripped away, the place now haunted by a soul in perpetual search of the one who had once completed it.

Even Leo seemed less enthusiastic, the young puppy only chewing on what was up to him, his master becoming his only interesting toy, the cushions, clothes and duvets finally living without the fear of being torn apart by the mutt's jaws.

However....

Carlos had only been gone for 2 months.

2 short months.

Which seemed interminable to the younger man, they were still a couple, sending each other frequent messages. But Carlos was no longer physically at his side and Charles felt it.

And while Carlos was no longer living with the Monegasque.

Charles had no time for the Spaniard.

The man was constantly busy with the Italian team, being invited to the most sumptuous dinners as well as the most pointless meetings, always there to put on a good show, to represent the 'soul' of Ferrari.

And there was nothing Carlos could do about it. Already, when they were team-mates Charles was overwhelmed, the luxury brand asking much more of the younger than the older, after all Ferrari fans had become addicted to his smile and his eyes, much more than any physical or mental trait of the Spaniard, who had accepted his position as Side-kick.

But since he'd left for William, everything had speeded up, and he no longer even had the chance to call Charles, only being able to send him messages that he hoped the chestnut would have time to read. Perhaps where he lived was warmer, and traces of his loved ones could be seen everywhere. The fact remained that he no longer had any of Charles's possessions, not an accessory, not a piece of clothing, not even a gift, everything had remained in Monaco, their home.

He only glimpsed the Monegasque's life through social networks and the media, a bitter taste spilling into his mouth as soon as he remembered that not so long ago, he was the man behind the camera. The Monegasque loved having "artistic" images of himself or his dog, and Carlos in turn enjoyed taking photos of them, freezing this shared happiness so that he could savour it a little more later.

A promise had kept them going for a while, a simple promise but one that was so important to them, both of them knowing that if he broke it.....

Their relationship would be over.

It was entitled:

"If one of us calls at 16:55, the other is obliged to answer"

Quick, easy, concise.

And as the winter chill consumed his body, Charles thought about it, his eyes glued to the time on his phone. Should he do it or not? He had missed several of Carlos's calls unintentionally and the Spaniard had never complained, so it was his turn to make the first move, wasn't it? And then.... He missed the dark-haired man's voice, his slight accent warming the younger man's body, imagining the tired smile on his partner's face after a tiring, tedious but fortunately victorious race.

The minutes passed like drops falling one by one on a pane of glass, creating a trickle of water like a torrent. Charles counted them, the wait being both too short and too long, the hope of calling but the fear of having no one at the other end of the line growing inside him.

16:53

Charles hastily put his phone under his pillow, short of breath, there was no point in calling Carlos at this hour, he was bound to disturb him. Wouldn't he?

16:54

He fumbled around in bed, almost dropping his phone and breaking it. The screen of the device reflected on his pupil, where it read "Chili 🌶️❤️". His heart skipped a beat at the nickname, it had been a long time since he'd called his husband that. More affectionate nicknames replaced it, the sensation of them still beneath Charles's lips, waiting to be uttered once more....

16 : 55

Time did not stand still as the Monegasque expected, he was not after all in a romance a l'eau de rose, no important moment came, his fingers trembling in front of the icon to call.

And just as he was about to go back to sleep, his eyes darting around and the thought that had been haunting him for a week now finally seeming to come true, he heard a hum. It was short, quick, almost inaudible, but it was there and its mere existence was a breath of fresh air after weeks of swimming in doubt.

"Amor? asked the voice over the phone, a silly grin forming on Charles's face.

-Oui chéri ? replied the Monegasque, slowly catching his breath.

- I.... I mi-Wait! Are you still buying Leo the kibble I recommended?

- The ones that cost more than a gourmet meal?

- Hey! He deserves luxury, he's our prince after all.

- Yeah.... Our prince.... Charles replied, a melancholy smile forming on his lips as he remembered Carlos's love for his dog, their dog, and how jealous he had been of it.

-....

- You only called me to talk about this?

- Why would I call you about anything else? The Spaniard replied point-blank.

The answer was like a dagger to the heart. The Monegasque wasn't sure he could get over it.

- No reason.... I was just imagining things.

- See you in Australia? Promise?

- Promise!"

The call then ended, Charles curling up in his bed, while Carlos insulted himself because of his stupidity. It was the only time the Monegasque had answered him and he hadn't even managed to talk about what he wanted, the feeling of being too much growing inside him as the conversation progressed.

He did, however, write one last little message, hoping that the younger man hadn't fallen asleep yet:

"I miss you"

A little heart being sent in reply, breaking the brunet's heart even more.

Bloody hell!

Why wasn't he in Charles' arms!

He could have comforted him all he wanted, cooking pancakes until he was obese, singing the cheesy French music that the Monegasque loved.

He would have loved to be by her side so much....

So much that it consumed him.

The memories of this shared life were the best fuel for the fire that was destroying him little by little.

But hey...

They were going to meet again, or so he hoped.

The stolen kisses between each race, hidden from everyone's eyes, were surely the best way to stop this destructive fire.

But in the meantime, as it grew day by day, perhaps it would be unstoppable? The damage it would have caused was too deep, incapable of even being cured with any kind of treatment.

This....

Only time will tell.

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

I hesitated whether to make the ending happy or sad and I ended up with the open ending, I'm not sure if I'm 100% on theme but all in all I enjoyed writing this little story, I hope you enjoyed reading it 🤗

If someone had a request too

[eadanga]

The Boy Next Door Part 2

Summary: Sarah an aspiring writer has her life crashing down when her husband leaves her for his co worker. What happens when Chris her college crush moves in next door?

After her jog Sarah head back into the house she pulls out her phone and calls her best friend Kendra

“Hey what’s up girl?”

“Just did some exercise you?”

“Taking a break from wedding planning it’s so stressful you know”

“I can understand that but I got some news”

“Omg! You finally killed the bitch who stole your husband! Don’t worry I can help you Lucas can help you”

Lucas calls out “I’m not helping any of our friends cover up a crime!”

Sarah laughs as Kendra sighs “You’re such a killjoy!”

Sarah giggles “Can I tell you my news now?”

“Yes let’s hear it”

“Ok so you remember Chris?”

“Yes that guy you told me you had a major crush on and he had feelings for you too right?”

“Yeah I just ran into him he moved in across the street from me”

“Really?” Kendra squeals “How far did you and him go?”

“Well we made out a couple of times then he was dating this awful girl”

“Annnnnnd?”

Sarah sighs “Ok we had sex one time and we were both drinking”

Kendra giggles “Wow girl did his girlfriend find out?”

“Yeah he was kissing her then he called her my name”

“He did what?!” Kendra burst out laughing “I bet the bitch had a meltdown”

“Oh yeah came over to my dorm to fight me good thing my roommates were there we all kicked her ass”

Kendra laughs harder “Oh God you’re killing me here what happened after that”

“It was just drama she and her friends started harassing me Chris broke up with her it didn’t stop filed a report with the school she had to back off or get expelled she listen that time”

“Good and you and Chris”

Sarah sighs “We talked about it but I could still see he blamed himself for what happened he really didn’t want to date after that so we remained friends”

“He wasn’t responsible for what that hoe did!”

“Tried to tell him that but he still felt guilty”

“Well the universe has given you a second chance with this guy! Just don’t rush things take it slow show that you still have feelings for him”

“You really think it’ll work?”

“Girl if he was in love with you back in college I guarantee you he still has feelings for you now”

Sarah smirks “Well he did sort of ask if I was married”

“See! Signs girl!”

Sarah giggles “Ok I’ll gonna give it a shot I won’t force anything but I’ll try”

“I’m rooting for you!”

Sarah laughs as she hangs up then stares out his window watch Chris move boxes into his house Well can’t hurt to give it a shot

****

Chris wipes the sweat off his forehead This is exhausting but a good workout As he goes to get the next box he notices something out the corner of his eye Is that Sarah? Is she staring at me while I do this? He smirks Well better give her something to stare at He pulls off his shirt then heads to get the next box as he lifts it he catches Sarah’s expression That blushing face I love it hasn’t changed since college

He pulls out his phone oh damn gotta go enroll Jack in the school He puts his shirt back on as he drives to the school he quickly heads to the principal office

The principal looks up “You must be Mr. Powell”

“Yes I am sorry I’m late”

“It’s not a problem here are the paperwork to sign your son up just sign these”

Chris quickly signs the papers and hands them back “Thank you Mr. Powell your son can start tomorrow here’s his schedule”

“Thank you” Chris walks out the off and towards his truck

“Hey it’s you!”

Chris turns around and sees a little girl running up to him he smiles “Oh hi you must be the girl I saw with her mom”

“Yup I’m Emma I wanted to meet you but mommy said afterschool”

Chris chuckles “Well she’s right school comes first”

“Look there’s mommy now!”

Chris turns and sees Sarah running towards them

“So sorry I’m late sweetie”

“It’s fine mommy”

Sarah turns to Chris “I see you’ve met my little one”

Chris grins “She was very adamant about meeting me”

“What do you do Mr”

“Chris just call me Chris”

“Ok what do you do Chris?”

“Well I was a football player”

Emma’s eyes go wide “Really? Coooool”

Chris laughs “Yes now I’m teaching other kids to play”

“Can you teach me how to play?”

“Football is a dangerous sport”

“Boo I wanted to play”

Sarah pulls her close “Maybe when you taller and have more muscle”

Emma blows a raspberry as Chris and Sarah laugh

Sarah smiles “Come on sweetie I have to take you to dad’s”

“Ok bye Chris!”

“Bye bye”

“She loves you”

“Well I try have my way with kids”

Sarah giggles “I’ll see you later and we can get coffee”

“Absolutely”  Chris smiles as he watches them walk away Exact replica of her mom

****

Emma walks through the front door of her dad’s house he smiles as he greets her “Hi did you have a good day?”

“Yeah it was” Emma looks around “She’s not here”

“She is but”

Tiffany comes out of the next room she has a grin on face “Hi there Emma!”

Emma frowns “Hi”

Tiffany sits next to Josh “Did you tell her yet”

“Not yet she just came in”

“Tell me what?”

Josh turns to her “Well you’re gonna have a sibling and”

“And a new mommy! We’re gonna be a family together!”

Josh turns to her “Tiff don’t”

“New mommy? I have a mommy”

“Yes I know you do sweetie but you can call me mommy too”

“I’m not gonna call you that I have a mommy!” Emma grabs her bag and runs to her room

“Em wait!” The door slams Josh whirls on Tiffany “Why the hell would you tell her that?!”

“I was just being honest and it’s true we’re getting married”

“You can’t force her to call you mom! What else have you been telling my daughter?!”

“Nothing! Why are you getting so upset with me?! I’m just trying to bond with her”

“Well that is not bonding with her!” Josh runs his hands through his hair in frustration “I gotta go check on her I wasn’t sure but now I know that you don’t think before you talk”

“Josh wait!” He runs to the room as Tiffany sits on the coach huffing in frustration

Tags: @indiacater @choicesgodfanatic @jared2612 @the-soot-sprite @darley1101

[starrclown]

Random things in my Hazbin Hotel rewrite that I added for lore, character, or because I think it's cool

(I might do this for my Helluva Boss rewrite because these take up alot of brain space and I wanna infodump so Tumblr is my bitc-)

Triggerwarning: Talks of death, suicide, murder, other nasty stuff.

Angel has a daughter named Isabella. (This is Angel Dust. I took the Dust out of his name because in my rewrite Angel is ashamed of his drug addiction. I wanna clarify incase someone gets confused.)

Angel and Husk were born in the same year, 1891. Angel died at 56 while Husk died at 86.

Husk and Valerie (Vaggie)are probably the most innocent at the Hotel.

Angel, Alastor, and Nifty have all killed people. Nifty has only killed one person, her husband.

Both Angel and Nifty were married when they were alive.

Sir Pentious is now a girl. She is now Madame Pentious.

Husk is Transgender.

Husk has a Russian background. He also knows Russian.

Angel and his family are not from America. His family are immigrants from Italy. They came to America when he was about 7.

Alastor is black. He's not mixed anymore.

Cherrie is almost deaf. She can hear somewhat but she is almost excessively deaf from being around explosions all her life.

Angel is blind in his right eye. Things... happened to it.

Since Cherrie is hard hearing and Angel has only one eye, they help each other alot. Angel learned sign language to talk to Cherrie if she's having a hard hearing day. Cherrie usually walks around with Angel if he's in a unfamiliar area.

Both Alastor and Angel are overlords. (I'm gonna have to work out what makes a overlord a overlord )

Charlie is a doll. Litteraly. Her parents made her with demonic magic. (More like a puppet but you get it.)

Charlie has a bad relationship with Lucifer. Lilith on the other hand is a loving an attentive mother.

Valerie even though she doesn't look like it, is very good with certain weapons. Not good with hands on though.

Mimzy and Angel are good friends.

Vox and Velvette don't like Valentino. They stick it out with him because their territories are objectively smaller than Valentinos. They are both weaker than Valentino.

Vox and Valerie have the biggest inferiority complex out if the main cast.

Tom Trench has had a crush on Katie Killjoy for about 20 years now. Katie is aware of it. She toys him along all the time.

Valerie can't speak.

Vox and Angel have a brother like relationship. Velvette shares the same thing with Angel. Only Velvette likes it.

Nifty was the youngest to die. She's 18.

Husk was the oldest to die.

Considering Nifty died so young she often can revert to a teenage life mindset. When someone (Mostly Angel) treats her like a child because that's what she is, she gets upset. Really upset. She doesn't understand why everyone treats her diffrently.

Nifty also tries to argue that she's grown up because she not only had a husband, she has to be bad like a adult because she's in hell.

Alastor shows blantent favoritism when it comes to the treatment of Husk and Nifty. (Hint: Husk ain't the favorite.)

Alastor is actually pretty nice. Despite how evil his is he is genuinely kind to most people. He was raised to be a gentlemen so he never really let that go as a adult.

When you die, after a significant amount of time, you can recive objects from your human life. There is two ways you can obtain objects from your human life. You either have it on you when you die or someone gives it to you as you die. Like being buried with a object or a object being set on your grave. This is how Angel has some memories of his family, someone set a scrap book on his grave. He has his necklace cause he was wearing it when he died.

Angel killed himself. He intentionally overdosed.

Charlie has biased when it comes to sinners. She's unaware of it but it's there. Charlie shows favoritism to younger sinners and to sinners who died from unnatural causes or to wronged sinners. This is demonstrated in the main cast. Charlie treats Nifty, Valerie, and Alastor better than Angel and Husk. She doesn't treat them hostility by any means but she gives alot more leeway to those three then Angel and Husk. She treats Angel objectively worse. If something bad happens and Angel has a part in it, then Angel will most likely take blame. She treats them worse for diffrent reasons. Angel because he killed himself and Husk because of how long he lived.

While Charlie doesn't like killing sinners, she will if pushed far enough.

Angel hides what he actually looks like. He didn't come down to hell looking as he does currently.

Valerie will do almost anything to get validation. Her self hatred is that big.

I have more but this is getting long.

Ask questions if you want. If your curious.

- ⭐️StarClown⭐️

[hazbinsponsoredbyvee]

And because I can't pick faves between my two favorite characters, Vox, it's ur turn to rate these ships:

1. Charlie × Vox

2. Vaggie × Vox

3. Angel Dust × Vox

4. Husk × Vox

5. Niffty × Vox

6. Alastor × Vox

7. Lucifer × Vox

8. Valentino × Vox

9. Velvette × Vox

10. Adam × Vox

11. Rosie × Vox

12. Lilith × Vox

13. Zestial × Vox

14. Zeezi × Vox

15. Carmilla × Vox

16. Peppermint (is that how you spell it? Idfk my dyslexia sucks) × Vox

17. Kitty × Vox

18. Baxter × Vox

19. SpongeBob × Vox

20. Vassago × Vox

21. Mammon × Vox (I'm not kidding there is actual fanart for this ship)

22. Vox × Valentino × Velvette

23. Vox × Valentino × Alastor

24. Alastor × Valentino

25. Lucifer × Valentino

26. Sir Pentios × Vox

27. Stella × Vox

28. Vox's screens and Cameras × Vox

29. Cherry Bomb × Vox

30. Katie Killjoy × Vox

"You know, I thought I was pretty open about the idea of me being shipped with people, but this list is making me reconsider. Anyway...

Alastor × Vox - Obviously my number one choice. Though I am offended you don't have me with Alastor and Lucifer on this list.

Lucifer × Vox - The only reason Alastor is higher is cause of our history. I love them both equally.

Vox × Valentino × Alastor - Fuck, I don't like Valentino being in the mix, and I don't want him anywhere near Alastor, but I can't rank anything with Alastor in it low.

Mammon × Vox - Honestly, none of these appeal to me, but I do look up to the guy.

Cherri Bomb × Vox - She's hot, I guess.

Rosie × Vox - That's weird, and I think she ate her last husband, but we get along alright.

Vassago × Vox - I vaguely recognize that name - pretty sure he's one of the Ars Goetia. So, at least it'd be a powerful pairing.

Stella × Vox - Same as above. I know nothing about either of them, though.

Zeezi × Vox - Literally only know her in passing, but sure, let's put her here.

Zestial × Vox - Yeah, sure, I'll trade one old-timey prick for another.

Carmilla × Vox - Can't stand the bitch, but this would get me better access to her weapons.

Husk × Vox - We got along fine when he was an Overlord. Not enough to fuck, but whatever.

Katie Killjoy × Vox - She's a bitch, but she does good work.

Niffty × Vox - Kind of just weird to think about.

Adam × Vox - I have some dating overlap with his exes, so he has that going for him.

Lilith × Vox - Oh yeah, my boyfriend's ex, nothing weird about that.

Charlie × Vox - And my boyfriend's daughter - almost equally weird.

Valentino × Vox - The guy tried to drug me to get me to stay with him, and thoroughly ruined any chance of me wanting him ever again.

Papermint × Vox - My assistant? Kind of weird, honestly.

Baxter × Vox - I'm not Val, I don't hook up with my employees.

Kitty × Vox - A fucking robot? Seriously?

Sir Pentious × Vox - As if I would ever be with someone so pathetic.

Vox's screens and Cameras × Vox - What is this even supposed to mean?

SpongeBob × Vox - Why?

Vaggie × Vox - She's a lesbian.

Angel Dust × Vox - Absolutely not.

Velvette × Vox - She's like my fucking sister!

Vox × Valentino × Velvette - Honestly don't know if throwing Valentino in the mix makes it better or worse.

Lucifer × Valentino - Valentino can stay away from both of my men.

Alastor × Valentino - It'd definitely be even worse for Alastor.

Well, that was... surprisingly disturbing."

[princesspastel8]

Chapter 7: "You know what you did!"

Dipper POV

There he is. My whole reason for breathing......fuck he looks just how I imagine. His skin is dark and tan, his hair golden with a mixture of brown, his body...tone and shaped, God his lips...and his one eye. I chuckle at the eye patch over his left eye. I begin walking towards Bill but stop mid step.

"Dipper no! Stay away from him!" I hear grunkle Ford shout.

I roll my eyes, turning around to meet his disapproving glare. I chuckle. "Of course, my joy has to be ruined by Mr. Killjoy himself." I joke.

Bill laughs and holds a thumbs up while spinning his cane with his free hand. "Good one, pinetree!"

I glance at Bill, smiling brightly for once. "Thank you, Bill. I learn from the best." I wink.

"D-Dipper....how could you?...D-Did you really kill Pacifica?"

"And Robbie?! Dipper, why would you kill my husband?!"

Bill and I both burst into fits of laughter. "Wow, redhead, you're more stupid than I thought! But what can you expect from a meatsack like you?"

My laughter calms as I look at the two hysterical women. "My my Wendy. Robbie must have fucked a few of your brain cells out. He was cheating on you. And with Tembry. I still have no idea how you miss that one." I chuckle.

Wendy shakes her head in disbelief. "Robbie would not cheat on me!"

I roll my eyes and look at Bill. "Mind showing her some proof then."

"Sure, pinetree!" Bill said as a hologram screen appears on the ground in front of everyone.

It showed Robbie making out with Tembry. I smirk, noticing myself behind the tree near them. "Ah yes... here's my favorite part." I said while watching myself kill them.

Mable and Wendy are sobbing messes while Stan and Ford stand in disbelief. I can't help but laugh at this beautiful sight of misery.

Mable starts walking towards me, but both Stan and Ford stop her. "Wh-why Dipper?! Why would you do something like this?! You're my brother! We're supposed to always be there for each other! How could you betray your family like this?! H-How could you betray me like this?!"

My bright smile quickly turns into a dark frown. Bill senses the anger rolling off of me in waves. He places a hand on my shoulder, trying to calm me down, but I shrug him off. Bill sighs, "You've done it now shooting star." He said while taking a few steps back from me.

"How could I? Supposed to always be there for each other?! That's rich coming from you, you know that?! Ever since we left gravity falls and gotten into high school, you completely changed! Your friends were more important! Boys that would always treat you like shit were more important! You would always get upset with me whenever I tried to protect you! And that day....oh God that day....I will never forgive you. You let him take me. Y-you let him do those things to me! You let him harass me! YOU KNOW WHAT YOU DID TO ME MABLE!" I place my hands on my face as my body begins to tremble. "I-If it wasn't for Bill....he would've raped me. Hehe...but its fine! It's all perfect! Because I killed him. Oooooooooooooh, the sound of his screams. The way he begged! You should've seen it, Mable! I bet you wouldn't want to be with him after knowing how much of a coward he was!" I laugh. "You've always been mom and dad's favorite, you know? I did everything I could to get them to notice how great of a son they had. Never failed a test. Passed all of my classes. Straight A's.....and yet...they couldn't look past the fact that their only son didn't like spots, never had a girlfriend, and to top it all off! -is gay. But it's whatever. I killed them, too."

Mable mouth dropped in shock. "Y-you....you what?" She whispers, barely audible to hear.

"Huh? What was that? You're normally loud and cheerful, Mable....I wonder where all of that went." I chuckle darkly. "Besides, you're useless to me. I don't need you, Mable. All I need is Bill... he's all I ever needed." I smile widely as I pull out my pistol and aim it at her. "I want you to deny everything I said... go ahead. Do it. Lie to them. Lie to the only friends and family you have left! Please do it...I've been dying to get your blood on my hands...."

Stan, Ford, and Wendy quickly stand in front of Mable protectively, and I laugh. "Oh, how could I almost forget?! You're their favorite, too! You've always been everyone's favorite! I'll kill you...I'll kill each and every one of you..."

Bill steps in between everyone with a smile. "now now as much as I'm enjoying this little show, these meatsacks could be of some use to us pinetree. Especially sixxter over there." He leans to whisper in my ear. "You forgot the rift pinetree. And the equation." He points out.

I look at him and sigh loudly. "Right....The two key components..." I put my pistol back inside my bag and pick it up. "Let's go, Bill." I said, turning my back to everyone.

"D-Dipper!....please I'm sorry!" Mable cries.

I turn my head. "I think you're a little late for that. Burn in hell with the rest of them." I said as Bill places a hand on my shoulder.

"Well, that was a great show, but it's time for us to go! Remember, reality is an illusion. The universe is a hologram. Buy gold, bye!!" And with that, the two of us disappear into my secret place within the forest.

I sigh heavily, walking towards the first tree I see. I drop my bag to the ground as I begin punching it. My knuckles are now bloody, but I don't care. Any physical pain is better than the storm inside my mind and heart. "Stupid... stupid stupid...STUPID-"

I'm interrupted by Bill. He grabs my hands and turns me around so that I'm facing him. "Whoa there! As much as I enjoy the sight of pain and suffering,...witnessing yours is a bit...dull??" He said as if questioning his own emotions.

I roll my eyes and pull away from him. "Jee, thanks for your kind words, Bill."

"Why are you mad at me? I can't help that I find your pain a little.... boring? What words do you meatsacks use?....uughhhh!" He groans in frustration.

"Since you're struggling with using words, use actions, Bill. You're a idiot sometimes." I said while staring down at my blood knuckles.

Bill frowns and gently grabs my hands. He pulls them up to his face and slowly licks the blood from my knuckles. "Enough action for you, pinetree?" He chuckles.

My face quickly heats up with blush as I open my mouth, trying to speak, but no words come out. I can't help but watch him....and get a little turned on.

Bill stops and snaps his fingers, making bandages appear around my wounds. He smiles wickedly and spins around on his cane. "So pinetree! Any plans on how we're going to get the rift?"

I shake my head to rid myself out of my daze. I cough to clear my throat, looking away from him. "Simple. We trick Mable again."

"Tricking shooting star for the second time? How are we going to do that?" He questions with a playful frown.

I smile, sitting down on the flower filled ground. I pull out my journal and point to the instructions. "Mable is completely heartbroken. She'll do anything to get her old life back. Simply offer Mable land again, but this time, offer her to see the loved ones I killed."

"Not bad, pinetree, not bad at all!" He cheers.

"Of course, it's not a bad plan. I thought of it. So once you take control over Mable's body, you use this code to get into Ford's lab. It's located on the far end to the right. It isn't hard to miss. We need to hurry. And if things go south, I have a backup plan."

"Which is my nerdy pinetree?"

"I remember when I almost got myself killed by clones of well... myself when I was twelve.....I rather not tell you why I-"

"It was for the red head, wasn't it?" He questions with shock in his tone, which he's faking.

I glare at him. "Shut it. I was stupid. Anyways, I could clone myself and create a distraction for Mable and everyone else. I'm sure Ford had left over unicorn hair from the first time. And if he already placed it around the shack, then you might not be able to go inside. Even with being inside Mable's body. The spell blocks out magic of any kind, so..." I said while reading over the plans I had set for years now.

Bill loses his balance from standing on top of his cane and falls on top of me. He looks at me with a devilish smirk, leaning to close to my face. "My bad pinetree. I'm still getting used to this form."

I blush heavily, looking away from me. "I-Its fine, just get off s-so we can discuss more plans....." I said harshly.

"Enough about these plans! We're going to get the rift, but not right now. Let's do something fun first."

I raise an eyebrow. You never know with Bill when it comes to his definition of 'fun'. "Uh....what kind of fun?"

He leans in closer to my lips. "I want to...try what Those meatsacks were doing in the woods, you know... before you killed them."

My eyes widen as I shake my head. "N-not now, Bill! As much as I want to...w-we can't. We have important th-things to do-....mmmm!.....mhhmmm~"

Bill cuts me off with his sweet, plum lips. He pulls away, still itches from my lips. "You think too much. Think a little less. I do it all the time, and I turned out fine!"

I look at him blankly. "I doubt that -....aahh~" I moan as Bill creases my half harden length over my clothes.

"Such sass...and a smart mouth." He hums, sliding his tongue into my mouth and sworls it around mine.

I whimper as I move my hips, wanting more friction with his hand. He bites my bottom lip, holding my waist in place. "I decided when you're allowed to move." He growls with his teeth tugging at my bottom lip.

I moan as a response, and he smiles, sliding his tongue back into my mouth. His taste is so sweet...for a murdering dream demon. I wrap my tongue around his, feeling him pin my arms above my head. He pulls away, giving me air to breathe.

"B-Bill...." I whine, wanting so badly to move my hips against his.

"Yes, pinetree?" He hums against my neck before biting down, sucking against my skin.

"Aaahhhh~ bill... I want you..." I beg, moaning at the feeling of his lips against my neck.

"You already have me." He whispers into my ear, using his free hand to rub against my newly formed hickey. "Now everyone will know that you belong to me. Understood?" He said before biting and fanning his breath into my ear.

I whimper, nodding my head. "Yes, Bill.."

He pulls away, jumping up to his feet with a smile. He holds his hand out, his cane floating to him. He grabs it, leaning forward with his hands. "Now.....what was that plan again?" He asks innocently with a playful smirk.

I sit up with a frown, blush covering my whole face. I glare at him, kicking his cane out of his hands, enjoying him falling flat on his face. I stand up and kick him over, placing my foot on his chest.

"Bill...if you ever tease me like that again, I swear I'll -"

"You'll what pinetree?" He mocks, his smirk taunting me.

I lean down, grabbing him by his tie and pulling him itches away from my face. "I'll make you regret placing that mark on me. I know everything about you Bill....do you seriously want to take my words lightly? I don't make threats. I deliver promises."

He yelps and quickly nods his head. "Ok, ok! No more teasing."

"Now that's a good little dream, demon." I said before kissing his forehead, letting go of his tie and throwing him back to the ground. "Enough time wasting. Let's go give our final goodbyes to 'the pines family'."

[sofmoth]

moth lore drop

thank you for the full pressure tag @strang3lov3 i’ll do my best because it’s been a long time and i have a terrible memory

LONG POST AHEAD BEWARE!!!

i first got into the idea of fandom around 2010 after reading every available maximum ride book (my fourth grade teacher read us the first one). after that i picked up TITHE off the $1 dono cart at the library and become fully obsessed with the fae (also beginning my spiritual witchcraft journey).

my first fandom that i was truly active in was … black veil fucking brides. by 2011 i was MEGA into BVB, and i still have the CD my friend burned for me. i got super into the fandom space on facebook and ended up getting my very first tumblr account shortly after at the behest of a dearly beloved friend (i miss u ziggy and i hope you’re well♡)

it’s a little different with MCR because i was first starting to get into them on the tail end of the black parade right before danger days came out, but when danger days came out i was HOOKED. i got super into the emo trinity fandom and i was a little fucking menace.

you want to know my first ship, do you???

FRERARD.

i was sooooo deep into it. fucking frerard. that’s the entire reason i started writing fic actually. i started with frerard and branched out into BVB and the other emo bands that the alleged “emos” i went to school with were afraid of like motionless in white and of mice & men also regrettably including falling in reverse but we don’t fucking talk about that anymore.

i stayed extremely active in various emo bandoms for several years, going on to write some absolutely awful smut on wattpad that i’m sure if you dug hard enough you would find. for a hot fucking minute i was super into doing danger days killjoy RP on instagram and i’m still proud as fuck of my killjoy you can pry her out of my cold dead hands.

around about 2014 i got EXTREMELY invested in homestuck. and i mean INVESTED. i was starting fights online over that shit, drawing up little trollsonas, i was going to WAR for taureans. shockingly, i never wrote homestuck fic, but i did read the hell out of it.

by 2018 i had sort of fallen out of fandom, i wasn’t reading much fic and i hadn’t written anything in about 2 years. fast forward, i drop out of college, blow through a few shitbag exes, and then in february of 2022, i met my husband.

hubbin is SUPER into horror, all of it. i casually enjoyed it, didn’t know much about it, but i had a few movies and characters i really liked. he took me to my first horrorhound weekend in march ‘22, five days after we started officially dating and i’ve only missed one since then.

god i don’t even look like myself in those pictures ANYWAY

you know what else hubbin enjoys? video games. especially horror video games. he got me WILDLY into resident evil, and that’s when i rejoined tumblr with a new name and vibes.

overall 2022 was a really horrible year for me, and i truly don’t think i would have survived it without all of the support and friendships i had already begun to form at that point. MOVING ON

i very very quickly got into the leon kennedy/resi fandom after finding such wonderful fic writers as @lipglossanon, @venomvalley, and of course mi amor @tulipsbymybed♡

i’m not sure exactly what the progression was, but after a while i ended up in the pedro fandom after finding a few truly wonderful fic authors who have since left this site and some even the fandom entirely. i will miss them literally forever.

i started engaging more and more with pedro fandom content (esp TLOU), and found even more wonderful authors like @toxicanonymity and @strang3lov3, both of whom i am so glad that i now have the privilege of calling my friends♡

hubbin and i got married on october 13th, 2023 (a friday the 13th in october like i’ve always wanted♡) at a fucking PUMPKIN PATCH COULD THAT BE ANY MORE PERFECT

sometime in 2024 after i went and saw the strangers chapter 1 with hubbin, tox and i got to talking about sackhead. you’ll never believe this, but my first completed fic in EIGHT YEARS was not only about sackhead, but it was also x reader, AND smut!!! i didn’t think i could do it. but god dammit i did it.

i was still more into the resi fandom than the pedro fandom at that point, so a few folks will know i have a couple of leon fics in the works that i am beginning to fear may never see the sunlight. but who knows maybe one day you too can fuck leon kennedy.

when i started writing for TLOU i was actually way more into tommy than joel, and if i’m being honest i think i might still be. that’s when i wrote good men die too, followed by do you think of me, too? and i promise i’m working on more for that series i just got hit in the writer’s balls with a baseball bat and lost inspo.

but now here we sit, in 2025, and i am actively writing a joel series. please check it out if you haven’t already, it’s called ritual and i should have a masterlist up soon. you can find it and me on AO3, @sofmoth. shameless plug.

YEAH I THINK THAT’S IT THAT’S MY LORE

i’ve absolutely forgotten so many things. just now i just remembered how deep i was into fucking gravity falls in high school, and i actually did read and write fic for that. anyway, i hope you enjoy this weird little window my life.

[comatosebunny09]

Finding out my husband has an ENFP personality type versus me having an ISTJ one makes perfect sense.

He’s really fun and always ensures no one has a worse time than him. Meanwhile, I tend to sit back and observe in social settings, and oftentimes, people assume I’m mute, standoffish, or shy because of this. Additionally, I tend to be the maternal figure in social settings, often being dubbed the “killjoy.” Contrastingly, hubby’s the life of the party.

He’s also big on spontaneity, but I tend to shut down if I don’t have a plan or framework to build off of. Lastly, I’m a lone wolf. I’m more comfortable in solitude than I am in the company of others while he can spend his entire day around me without a single complaint. It’s so interesting to see how our personalities clash and how they’ll affect our son. 😭😭😭

Sorry for being a nerd on your dash. Back to your regularly scheduled programming.

[evrywhre-evrythng]

!!INTRO POST!!

hiiii !! I’m kylee or ky !!

I’m 15😋

my pronouns are she/her

I am an infp

matching bios w @defenderoftomorrow

I mainly post about music and shows I like

dni: basic criteria (racists, homophobes, etc.), shippers of anything ending in cest (waycest, grimescest, wincest, etc.) or minor x adult

just please don’t be weird🙏🏻

my fav artists are:

taylor swift

fall out boy

my chemical romance

panic! at the disco

the young veins

z berg

twenty øne piløts

pocketwatch

5 seconds of summer

one direction

pierce the veil

cobra starship

gracie abrams

and many, many more (I love music a lot)

I also love to read !! my fav book is six of crows, and I absolutely LOVE the grishaverse. It’s my favorite series ever.

a few of my other favs are:

daisy jones and the six

the seven husbands of evelyn hugo

percy jackson and the olympians (anything by rick riordan really)

the song of achilles

the inheritance games

the true lives of the fabulous killjoys (obvi)

warrior cats

the hunger games (my baby)

I’m in a LOT of fandoms but here are some of the main ones (other than music and the previously mentioned books)

fnaf

marauders

arcane

life series

marvel

star wars

the vampire diaries

sam and colby

the last of us

life is strange

THE WALKING DEAD AKA THE BEST SHOW EVER

sorry I get excited about twd

I’ve always been a weird kid but recently I’ve started to embrace it more than I used too so I am here

the only irls that follow me here are the two people i’m most comfortable with and so I have no shame as to what I post🙂

[storydays]

Harvest Festival P1

(3rd POV)

A pleased sigh could be heard from Stolas as Blitz lit a cigar, leaning against the pillows behind him. "I'm sorry for having to move our little rendezvous early. I have an engagement this month on the full moon." Stolas explained, slightly gesturing at his hands that were currently tied up. 

"So when this happens, it's not really something I fuss about," Blitz started, using his cigar to break the ropes apart, watching as Stolas massaged his wrists and removed the rest of the ropes, "But do you really need the book for this farm bullshit? I have, like 15, new clients waiting for heads to roll." Blitz passed the cigar and watched the tall owl take a long drag. 

"As shocking as it may seem, Blitzy, my Grimoire, is actually incredibly important," Stolas put the cigar out on Blitz's horn, " And it isn't supposed to lent out to itty-bitty imps like yourself." Stolas cooed, pinching Blitz's cheek before he was pushed away.

"The Harvest Moon is a very special occasion. It's been my annual duty to showcase it in the ring of Wrath," Stolas watched as the imp pulled a feather from his mouth in slight disgust, "It's celebrated with a lovely little festival with the locals." 

"Wrath, huh?" Blitz mused, "My employees are from there. I've never really been there. I heard it's full of inbred chucklefucks." 

Stolas perked up, "Why don't you all join me at the festival? I can guarantee  you all," the owl demon disappeared under the covers before reappearing in between Blitz's legs, face to face with his crotch with a devious giggle, "Special access." 

"Look, I told you we're not bodyguards, okay? That was a one time thing we did badly." Blitz protested. "I'm simply offering a work free day of fun." Stolas tilted his head cutely, "I feel quite safe at the Harvest Festival. It's the same every year."

"Well, if you promise this isn't some fuck-fest invite, it does sound like it could be a blast and a half. Plus it's not like we can do jack shit without your book anyway." Blitz thought aloud. "Aww, I'm sowwy your cwients will have to waut." Stolas cooed, baby talking his love interest. 

"Oh, fuck my clients!"

*Timeskip to M&M's apartment*

Moxxie and Millie were sleeping peacefully when a loud dramatic song played in the room, waking Moxxie up. Scrunching up his face in annoyance, he turned it off. 

It rang again. 

Scowling, Moxxie sat up in bed and answered the phone. "What do you want, sir?" he asked through gritted teeth. "Hey, hope I didn't wake you, Mox. How would you and Mills want  to visit the wrath ring for some  harvest bullshit this year?" Blitz's voice asked cheerfully. 

"Harvest Moon Festival? Yee fuckin' haw!" Millie cheered. Moxxie sighed deeply, "Well, Millie likes the idea....Wait, where are you calling from?" 

As soon as he asked, his boss fell from the ceiling on their bed, purring slightly. Millie smiled fondly while her husband deadpanned. "Mmhm, of course."

"Great, now we just gotta go get Loona and (Y/N)." Blitz declared. 

*Timeskip to (Y/N)'s apartment*

(Y/N) sat on the couch, cleaning his guns as he watched one Princess Charlie's interview with Katie Killjoy. "Jeez, Killjoy is such a bitch!" He muttered aloud, looking to the other side of the couch where Verosika scrolled through her phone, looking for a new outfit. 

"Yeah, but I mean, what else did the Princess expect? We're in hell by birth, but those sinners are  inhumane....." she paused, "Literally." she giggled at the joke, making (Y/N) roll his eyes fondly. His phone lit up with a picture of Blitz's face smushed against the camera.

"What, Blitz?" (Y/N) asked, muting the TV.

"Hey, nephew, wanna go on a fun company trip to Wrath?" "Uh, why?" " 'Cause why the fuck not? We can't do anything without the book anyway." Blitz said sarcastically. (Y/N) hummed in thought before shrugging.  "Eh, fine you've made a good point. And don't you dare try to break in through my window." 

Outside the apartment, the older imp froze from where he was attempting to unlock the window. Verosika looked over at said window with a creeped out expression before she and Blitz simultaneously sent each other the middle finger, as (Y/N) facepalmed. "I'll be ready in a few, Blitz." 

*20 minutes later*

"Ugh, babe, do you need to go to this country bullshit? We could have a few more fun days of fun before I go to the Lust ring for a few weeks." Verosika flipped her hair back as she watch (Y/N) put his bags into the van. "Don't worry, gorgeous, when we come back, I'll come down to Lust for a week and we can hang out when you're done recording for the day." The succubus seemed pleased with the answer before placing a cowboy hat on his head before kissing his cheek. 

"Definitely take pictures so you can show off those new outfits I got from Velvette." "But of course, dearheart." "Ah, this is too lovey dovey for me. Let's go, (Y/N)!" Blitz yelled, starting the engine, making the couple roll their eyes before saying their goodbyes and separating.

*Timeskip to Millie's parents farm*

After a short ride, the I.M.P. crew pulled up in front of a ranch with two older imps waiting for them. Millie giggled excitedly, before hopping out. "Mama! Daddy!" She cried, rushing into their arms. "Yee-haw! How's my deadly little pumpkin spice doing?" asked her father, ruffling her hair. "I'm good, pa! Thanks for letting us stay here for the harvest jamboree." 

"It's no trouble." Her mother spoke, waving her off. "We know you aren't making as much anymore since y'all went 'freelancing.'" "Freelance pays fine, Ma. We're doin' fine. It's fine." Millie deadpanned before bringing over Moxxie from where he was struggling with their luggage.

"Anyway, y'all remember my husband, Moxxie." Millie's parents looked at the imp with disapproving gazes. "Greetings, Lin, Joe. How have you been with all the flaming twisters and stuff around here?" Moxxie asked, nervously. "We lost our old farm hand to one of them tarots last week." Joe replied, gruffly. 

"Oh, oh, crumbs. My bad. I am so sorry, I didn't mean to reopen that wound, sir." replied Moxxie, rubbing the back of his head. 

"Hey, watch it, I'm the sir here, fucko." Blitz snapped from where he, Loona, and  (Y/N) were watching on the side, the younger two demons typing away on their phones. "Oh, yeah, y'all haven't met the rest of the team yet," Millie mused. "That's my boss, Blitz, his nephew (Y/N), and Blitz's hellhound." 

"She's way more than 'his hellhound', Mills." (Y/N) stopped typing on his phone to send Millie a look. " "Yeah, she's my daughter and (Y/N)'s sweet baby cousin." "Uh, I'm literally 6 months older than her. And she ain't that sweet. " (Y/N) deadpanned. "Only on paper am I his daughter." Loona protested. "Y'all don't deserve to know my name." 

"It's a pleasure to finally meet the sperm and egg factory that popped out this little gem of an assassin." Blitz greeted, proudly nodding to Millie as he pushed Moxxie out the way. "You two raised a sturdy bitch."

"Bruh, you called her a bitch to her parent's faces. What is wrong with you?" (Y/N) hissed from behind his uncle. Joe laughed, "That we did. So, (Y/N) and Blitz is it? Those are some fine names." "They remind me of love and war." Lin sighed dreamily. "Ah, nothing like a little war to make a strong man." Joe flexed his arm. "And love to make a family." Lin added. 

"I like you people." Blitz decided, (Y/N) nodding in agreement, shaking Lin's hand. "You know, more battles were won by technological advances in warfare," started Moxxie, "I've researched the history of weaponry extensively. It's inspiring how , for example, the progression of guns utilizing angelic technology has changed drastically the landscape of Hell's combative---" Moxxie stopped, seeing Millie and (Y/N)'s 'stop it' signals, Blitz's frog blink and Joe and Lin's confused and slightly annoyed looks.  "I mean, war fun." 

"Guns get the job done," Joe agreed, "But a man ain't nothing if he can't tear the head off a hellish beast with only his bare hands." "True, Joe, but  even some of the best battles have been won by using other techniques besides ripping their heads off." (Y/N) spoke confidently, as he and Joe started having their own conversation. 

"HA! He's right, Moxxie!" Blitz laughed, wiggling Moxxie's hand. "You've got little baby hands, just like your little baby dick." He moved forwards as if he was going to grab Moxxie's crotch when he was pushed away. "Refrain, sir." he hissed. 

"Speaking of strong hands, y'all should meet our newest help." Joe said, suddenly. "Hey! Striker!" He called. A black horse with a flaming mane ran up to them and turned to the side to reveal a grinning pale imp. 

"Damn, he's hot." (Y/N) said, snapping a picture and sending it to Verosika, she replying in affirmation. "Well, howdy!" greeted Striker, putting a stalk of hay in his mouth and walking over to shake Millie's hand. "You must be the famous Mildred. Heard some good things about you from your folks, little lady." "Oh.." Millie giggled shyly. "What are y'all doing so far way from IMP City? Heh, free lancin' finally slowin' down?" 

"Oh, no, freelance isn't---Never mind. We're just visiting for the festival. The prince is our boss's boyfriend." Millie squealed. "Millie, I am not above hitting a female in front of her daddy." Blitz reminded. 

"Boss, huh? Oh, so you're the bold imp to start his own killing biz?" Striker said. "Yeah, well, when you're good at something, you should probably capitalize on it." The boss said smugly. "Not many imps start businesses on their own." Striker commented. "Well, I couldn't have gotten far without my brainy ass nephew, (Y/N), here!" Blitz pulled (Y/N) down and gave him a gentle noogie, the two laughing.

"Well, you're both pretty impressive, sir." winked the farmhand. "Oh, yeah? I-I guess it is, isn't it?" Blitz said. "Are you asking or telling us?"(Y/N) teased as the two imps shook hands. 

"So you even conned that ditsy blue blood into getting you to the surface?" "Oh, it's long and complicated. But the short answer, is yes. But he's not like, you know, we're not like,  we're not doing a-we, what's between, it's a transactional fucking, you see?" Blitz stuttered, cheeks flushing as (Y/N), M&M and Striker snickered at his unusual nervousness. 

"Aw, it's okay to fall in love, Uncle." teased (Y/N). "Oh, shut the fuck up!" snapped Blitz. "Wow, such a tsundere!" laughed the younger. 

"Ya know, you boys should enter the Pain Games." Joe called. Blitz scurried over, "Games? I heard games. What games? I'm in." "Ooh, ooh, me too!" (Y/N) popped up behind his uncle as they both excitedly jumped up and down on their toes. 

"Every Harvest Festival, there's a competition to be the roughest, toughest, bastard in Wrath." Lin explained. "Yeah! Wish I could play." huffed Millie. "Now, Millie, you know you get too carried away. The last competition ended in 15 separate funerals." Lin chided, placing a hand on her daughter's back. 

"I'm aware, but I only caused 9 of them. How come Sallie Mae still gets to compete?" Millie pouted. "Your sister doesn't have a neighborhood head count." reminded Lin. "She so does!"

"It doesn't count if they don't find the bodyyyyy." A tall female imp, resembling Millie, sang happily as she walked away with a sack over her shoulder. "I mean, she's got  point, Millie." (Y/N) thought aloud. "Still, you get to root for her and your brothers. And now you can cheer on on your boss and coworker. " 

"You know, she can also cheer for me." Moxxie smiled, placing a hand on Lin's shoulder. Joe laughed loudly, "Wait, you?" "Yeah, I could compete, can't I?" Moxxie grunted as Lin elbowed him in his gut, to get his hand off her. "Sorry, boy, but I don't think  sensitive, thespian types would last very long in the games." 

Moxxie glared, "I was born here, too. " He suddenly adapted a southern accent, "I've got some fightin' in me."

"Heh, well, then little fella, why don't you help me wrangle one of them hogs for dinner?" Striker suggested. "Simple, watch me." Moxxie replied, taking his gun out. "Nah,with these." Striker dropped rope and a knife into the smaller's hands. "Bullets can't pierce the shell. You got to get the knife underneath them and pry yourself an opening."

"Oh, right, right, I knew that." "Just remember that your rep with the in-laws is on the line here,so no pressure at all. You totally will not make an ass of yourself of everyone important in your life." Blitz got into Moxxie's head, grunting when (Y/N) pushed him. "Don't listen to him, Mox. You gotta do this your way, dude, that's the only way anyone will respect a sensitive baby dick imp like yourself. Show them you've got some badassery under that bowtie."

"That was inspiring and hurtful at the same time." Moxxie muttered, walking over to Millie. "Mox, you don't need to do this." '"Oh,  he totally does. Take its ass, Moxxie, yeah!!!" Blitz cheered. "Alright, I'm switching you over to decaf." (Y/N) muttered to himself, eyeing his uncle.

Moxxie jumped the hellpig, attempted to stab it, only to meet hard shell. "Fuck yeah, Moxxie, make that bitch your bacon!" (Y/N) strained to hear what else Blitz was yelling when Loon spoke up next to him with a smirk.

"This is fucking beautiful." She snickered, recording. 

"Doing great, Moxxie! Send me that video later." Blitz grinned at Loona.

Seeing Moxxie was struggling, Striker jumped in and skillfully slaughtered the hellpig. "Ohh, my clavicle." groaned the smaller imp, rubbing his throat. 

"Don't worry, little one." The tall cowboy imp walked over, gold tooth glinting in the light, giving him a sinsiter look. "You never stood a chance." His tail rattled like a snake as he walked away. 

"Hey, bossman, nephew, wanna help the men skin this thing for dinner?"

"Oh, I am always down to skin the manly meat with the manly man." Blitz claimed proudly. "That's what she said." The cousins said in unison, both looking at their own phones and sharing a fist bump as they followed the others. 

"What who said? What bitch is talking shit about me?" "Um, everyone?" (Y/N) asked, making Loona laugh loudly. 

M&M watched as everyone else walked into the house, chattering away. 

"Aw, don't let them get to you and hey, you don't need my parents to respect you; they will eventually." Millie said, wrapping Moxxie's arm up. "No, they won't." Sallie May said, leaning on the fence, her older sister glaring at her. "What? I'm right, ain't I?"

"Oh, I'm entering in those games." Moxxie growled. Millie sighed while her sister spoke up again. "How pissed would you be if I bet on him dying?" 

*End*