#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

[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'."

[campgender]

still a practitioner of bibliomancy some days, & my god am i grateful for every voice that reaches back, every fem(me) of the past who senses my openness & honors it.

will be transcribing the passage that’s holding my heart rn asap but for the moment have some more details on the situation i referenced yesterday under the cut. obv expecting to continue to feel a lot of different shit about this but rn i feel impossibly, spiritually held & comforted & i’m just so grateful 😭💓

cw rape culture, violations of consent, nazism, transmisogyny

hello lovers haters & miscellaneous spectators. welcome to another rant about mac’s sex life.

so.

girl i’ve been hooking up with for like 10 months reblogs a “your body my choice” meme.

it’s someone’s tits.

once i calm down enough to deal with it i check the op’s blog. of course it’s a stolen image.

op is a “““pagan traditionalist””” who posts for her future husband, believes women are in general ‘naturally’ submissive to men, in describing her body manages to refer to all women as having uteruses, & encourages people who’ve read to the end of her bio to dm her “Wingardium Leviosa”

if op isn’t making nazi propaganda idk why not bc apparently she’s really good at it.

so i was already triggered as shit,

esp bc i’d just learned that morning i think about that phrase being deployed against middle school kids in peer abuse

which was obv so triggering for my cocsa shit in addition to it being almost my birthday which always makes me a raw nerve

& then asserting a boundary is agonizing, my brain in self-defense attempts to make it impossible

& there’s that little voice of “is that gonna be my tits some day”

& i’m blaming myself for having fucked her past the first issue we had or maybe at all

so i’ve just been like. a mess of “maybe it’s fine maybe everything’s fine maybe i couldn’t have gotten over it on an embodied level but i shouldn’t have said anything” etc etc

i start reading my scan of the first half of with a rough tongue: femmes write porn

amber dawn writes that she is exhausted navigating the tensions between feminism & sex radicalism, these two parts of herself & two communities she moves in.

my god, amber, i am exhausted.

she says she was inspired to create this pornography collection because she came across a shot from her own sex work on the internet

over which someone had added a caption

that wasn’t me, she said, so she built a collection that was

& i fucking wept. like obviously it is so horrific that that happened to her, that this happens to so many people, but it was such a profound validation that it is okay to take this sort of shit seriously, that if i’m a pedant & a buzzkill & a killjoy i’m not the only one, that we are exhausted.

that we keep making porn anyway. because it’s important to our lives, because we love it

[im-a-regular-joe]

My Katie Killjoy Theory

Fun Fact - The term maneater refers to extermely promiscuious woman and her design resembles a spider or a praying mantis the OG maneater because they are know to eat there male counter parts.

SO .... maybye she also killed her husband(s) or partner(s)

BUT HEY YE KNOW TELL EM JERRY

[peachdues]

Peachie I’m depressed and overtired and would love to hear more peach lore to lift my spirits

I’m also depressed bestie let’s be depressed together!

I’m not allowed to watch any legal show with my dad and husband because apparently I make it “not fun” (specifically, Daredevil and She-Hulk).

Making fun of really dramatic tense scenes by pointing out how the characters would Not Be Allowed To Do That or how Matt Murdoc would’ve been disbarred several times over is me being a killjoy smh

But fr pls take care of yourself bestie 🤍🤍

[aftmostreaper]

Morning Memories (Cypher x Male Reader)

Memories of what had happened swim across his mind as he makes breakfast

its been some time since i written somethin, but i still hope you like it

Fluffy and stuff:)

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

The morning sun shone through the curtained windows, seeping into the small kitchen where a man stood in front of the stove, humming to himself as the sun kissed his shirtless torso, the scars from his previous occupation littering across the surface. 

He smiles as he pours the pancake batter onto the heated stove, turning around to look at the clock as he waits for the side to cook. He taps his fingers on the countertop to the beat of a song lost in time, fond memories of his past as an agent working along with his crew swimming across his mind.

“So tell me, what made you want to join this protocol?”

The masked man in front of me asked as he moved his pawn forward, his gloved fingers dragging the piece across the board, his ‘eyes’ never leaving mine

I chuckled and moved my horse, raising the piece up before placing it down.

“I got a phone call from an old friend”

“Brimstone? Well, that isn't a surprise, but why did you agree in the first place?” 

He leaned in closer. Eyes still burning into mine. As he moved another piece.

I casually shrugged, countering his advance with a rook

“I have my reasons”

It was times like this that the man remembered fondly, the small times when he and his husband met and interacted and talked like normal people, calm and enjoying each other’s presence.

But not all memories are always positive. And in their line of work, there were not many.

The symphony of gunfire rang across the dry and sandy air. The sun blazing down along with the bullets. Radiant abilities were thrown and radiant tech was scattered along the site.

He held his gun close to his chest, ignoring the searing pain in his leg, he pressed the earpiece.

“Enemy Jett B site, got nicked in the leg. Hearing 2 more footsteps” he said through gritted teeth before pulling out a flash grenade “Flashing” he yelled and threw it into the air, the blinding light giving him cover to back away into Hall

“Need backup” but he was met with static “Fuck” he cursed and ran up to elbow. Catching jett off guard as she dashed up to the air and into site. It didn't take long before a bullet was shot into her head.

Ducking behind cover, he didn't have time to catch his breath before the screech of a hawk echoed into the air and a blinding light filled his vision. He gasped and tried to recover as more footsteps approached the site.

He held his breath, listening to the sandy footsteps, as he held his gun close to his chest.

That was when the familiar sound of the spike being planted pounded across the sand.

He was under the pressure of time.

“Coming up behind them through window”

The voice of his comrade echoed silently in his earpiece. Momentary relief filled his head as he threw another flash grenade outside the opening, a shot rang in the air.

“Skye down”

The beeping of the spike rang faster.

“You should run”

The enemy Killjoy placed her device, a sea of lights dancing across the walls as the neon dome formed above them.

“She is behind the radianite boxes, spike is in front of site”

Cypher’s voice once again echoed.

I nodded, pushing up to elbow, shooting at the nanoswarms littering around the spike. The beeping became faster as the lights pulsed quicker. 

I ran towards the radianite boxes, cypher ran towards the spike the diffuser in his hand. I pulled out my gun and swung. Crosshair pointed at Killjoy’s head, and hers pointed to mine. A second didn't last before 2 shots rang with the lights and beeps.

Blood splattered the sand as two bodies fell to the ground. The lights went dark, the beeping stopped and a loud shout echoed with the dry winds.

He was at the medical bay for a few weeks after that. The damage to his head was quite severe and Sage needed multiple sessions and healing orbs to try to heal his brain and head together.

And the person who stood beside him through the weeks and more months of recovery was no other than Cypher. His scarred hand is always there to guide his comrade back to full health.

The details were after a lot. Fighting, misunderstandings, and therapy for both of them and their pasts. But in the end, they still got together.

The man’s smile got softer as he added another pancake to the pile, His gaze drifting to the ring on his finger. The memories of the starry night bring a sparkle to his eyes.

“Amir” I looked up at him as I got down on one knee, my heart beating loudly in my chest as I fished out the red box from my pocket, opening it to reveal the ring glistening under the starry moonlight “Will you marry me?”

I hopefully looked up to his shocked eyes, realization quickly setting in as he tackled me to the ground, burying his head into my shoulder and muttering “I do” repeatedly before bending back to look at me.

The kiss we shared that night was nothing short of passionate and full of love. Eyes twinkling in adoration as we settled under the moonlight.

The wedding was small and sweet, the guests only being that of the members of the protocol and a few close friends and family members.

The honeymoon was….

The man chuckled to himself, touching the nape of his neck as he remembered the events that night. 

It had been years since they became a couple. Time passed by as they soon retired, having enough money to comfortably live on a peaceful farm in the countryside until death came knocking at their door.

But before he could dwell on those thoughts and memories. The door to their shared bedroom opened and a set of footsteps soon stopped at the doorway behind him.

The man turned around and looked at his husband, his mature features being kissed by the morning sun. A smile quickly grew on his face as he set the second stack of pancakes down at the table. 

“Good morning, Love” he greeted, Turning around to grab their morning drinks and setting them at the table.

He was met with a small and sweet “Good Morning” before the other approached and gave him a peck on the lips. They looked at each other’s sparkling eyes before kissing once again and sitting down at the table.

They ate their breakfast in relative peace, talking about what they were going to do the day and the days after. And that was when a notification popped up in the man’s phone, his smile quickly growing wider.

“What is it?” Amir asked as he took a bite from his pancake

“The adoption agency said that we could adopt her”

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Hope you liked it, i just started playing valo again so yah:3

[strawberryonfire]

Hazbin Hotel Sin Headcanons

This is basically what I think the sins of the Hazbin characters were (for now) and what made them go to Hell

TW: Mentions of murder drugs, s**ual assault, and homiphobic people (Katie Killjoy)

Before this starts, (you can skip this if you want) in s1 ep4 of Helluva Boss, it was estaished that the Cherubs couldn't go back to Heavan because their mission ended up with the death of a human, even if they didn't actually kill him. So, like many other people theorize, it's probably much harder to get into Heavan than hell, and if you kill someone, directly, indirectly, or by acident, you might go to Hell or just have to prove yourself to be worthy of going to hevan. I think some of the characters probably killed someone and that's part of the reason they were dammed.

...

Vaggie: I have two theories for her. The first one is that she went to Hell for her anger; maybe she killed someone in a rage? My second theory, and the one I like the most, is that she accidentally killed someone, most likely a man, while defending herself. Vaggie was walking alone at night and some man tried to have his way with her, and she fought back. She probably stabbed him or something and ran away, and accidentally killed him. I like the idea of Vaggie losing her eye after she came into Hell.

Angel Dust: I do think lust and drugs were a reason he went to Hell, but not the main reasons. He was an Italian mobster when alive, and probably killed quite a few people in his time. So I think his actions in the mob is a large reason why he's in Hell.

Alastor: I'm pretty sure it's canon that Alastor was a cannibal and still is, and I also think he was a serial killer who ate his victim's.

Niffty: I feel like Niffty was a bit boy-obsessed when she was a human, and probably got her heart broken by one. Maybe she was dumped or a guy she liked had a girlfriend, so she killed him. I also kind of like the idea of her being a bit of a pyromaniac.

Husk: He was probably an alcoholic and most definitely a gambler, so that's two factors. A lot of people think Husk was a soldier in the Vietnam War, but I'm pretty sure he was an old ass man when he died, so he would have been a bit too old to serve in that war. If he was a soldier at one point in his life, I think he would have served in WW2, and he probably did kill people while serving. Husk probably got PTSD from the war, and to cope, he turned to alcohol and became an alcoholic.

Sir Pentious: I don’t have too many thoughts about what landed Pentious in Hell, but I have a feeling child labor was involved.

Baxter: I also don't have too many thought on Baxter either, but I feel like he was a mad scientist or something like that, and one of his experiments ended the life of someone, or he did messed up experiments on people or maybe animals.

Cherri Bomb: I feel like Cherri probably made/sold bombs or fireworks, or anything illigal like that, for money, or she was a protester of some kind. She was probably a violent one too, in my mind.

Valentino: I think Val was a pimp who mistreated his workers and possibly s**ually abused them in some way. Soft of like what he does with Angel.

Vox: I feel like Vox was a greedy and unfair T.V salesman, but that's all I have for him right now.

Velvette: She was probably a social media influencer and did some illegal stuff on the side.

Katie Kljoy: Katie is obviously homiphobic, but I have another thought in mind for her. In the pilot, after Charlie calls her a bitch, she turns into a more demonic form, which reminds me of a prey mantis. If you don't know, female prey mantisis eat the male (after mating I think) so this got me thinking that Katie might have killed her husband (if she had one).

Katie: Looks like they're fighting tooth and nail for that Hotspot!

Tom Trench: I've said this in my hazbin hotel death headcanons that Tom Trench probably died in the trenches In WW1, so he most likely killed others if he was a soldier. Also, based on some things he said during the pilot, I feel like he was a bit of a pervert when he was alive. ( an example down below if you wanna know)

...

Tom: And I'd sure Luke to nail her Hotspot! (referring to Cherri Bomb)

[anabdaniels]

Drinking mulled wine

Paring: Agent Whiskey x Female Reader

Word counting: 630

Rating: +18

Warning: Kinda dirty talk, nasophilia is in the room with us once more (I can't shut up about Jack's nose, I'm sorry), drunk reader trying to hook up with Jack.

Main Masterlist | Cowboycember Masterlist

Four cups of mulled wine probably wasn't a good idea, but who could blame you for it? Jack had decided to do his mother's recipe on that cold afternoon and somehow, he was even better than her on it.

“I can drink a full liter of this.” You said with a silly smile walking around the living room, starting to be touched by the alcohol.

“I can see it.” Jack answered after taking a sip of his wine, smirking slightly. You laughed and walked towards him, letting your empty cup on the coffee table and mounting on his lap, resting your forearms on his shoulders. “What's it?” Jack questioned holding your face between his hands, caressing your cheeks with his thumbs.

“I can't want my husband anymore?” You inquired in a slurred voice.

“Of course you can. Even though you're way too drunk for anything else.” He answered in a gentle tone, still caressing your cheeks.

“I still remember my SSN and the safe code of your bank card, so I ain't that drunk.” You did your best to sound convincing.

“I can argue on that.” Jack chuckled and kept caressing your face.

“You're such a killjoy sometimes.” You mumbled resting your hands on his face, taking a good look at him and smiling “You’re so gorgeous.” You sounded highly tipsy and leaned forward, kissing his forehead, then the space between his eyebrows and his nasal bridge. Realizing the thoughts going through your mind, you giggled and rested your forehead against his.

“What’s it?” Jack asked curious.

“I like your nose.” You admitted without a single crumb of shame thanks to the alcohol “Unquestionably your best feature.” You leaned slightly back, running your index finger down his nose.

“The best?” he raised one eyebrow, slightly doubtful.

“I mean, not that I ain’t a total sucker for the rest of you, especially your neck, and hands, and arms, and cock, but I have thoughts over your nose that I wouldn’t dare say out loud.” You chuckled while still caressing his nose.

“I’ll make you clarify this when you get sober because you can’t be for real.” Jack chuckled and shook his head, softly massaging your shoulders.

“I am.” You retorted promptly “If you only had an idea of the dirty thoughts I have every time I look at your side profile…”

“I suppose the girls in my high school times didn’t think the same.” Just after having said it Jack realized that he might have just put himself in trouble.

“What was it? Pinocchio, toucan, or oxygen thief?” you asked already laughing.

“All them.” He shrugged and laughed.

“My poor toucan cowboy.” You said with a fun tone, leaning forward and planting a kiss on the tip of his nose.

“Excuse me?” he raised his eyebrows, trying really hard to seem serious.

“Since you think I’m too drunk to fuck, I’ll disturb you for my entertainment.” You shrugged still caressing his nose.

“Don’t get me wrong, I just don’t feel comfortable with you being so tipsy, especially when I’m completely sober.” Jack admitted rubbing your arms.

“You’re the best husband in this world.” You said with a silly smile, leaning to kiss the space between his eyebrows “Your decline because I’m too drunk just turned me on even more. I mean, you got unfairly hot being responsible and serious.” Once more you admitted your thoughts with no shame left.

“My god, you’re a piece, honeybee.” He chuckled and kissed the tip of your nose.

“You’re the one to blame for all the alcohol I consumed today.” You raised your eyebrows and squeezed his cheeks

“Only fair that I deal with the consequences of it.” Jack smirked and leaned back on the sofa, more than happy to let you entertain yourself by squeezing and nudging him.