#Ornery Angels

[my2phetaliaheadcanons]

It's Weird It Happened Twice Part 2

A few days had passed since the incident and Maisy went about playing as only a 5-year-old can. Her imagination taking her Barbies on a dangerous spy mission. Stuck on the leather ottoman island, struggling to defuse the toilet paper roll bomb.

“Raqulle!” Squeaked Maisy in her attempt at an adult’s voice. As she made two of the dolls square up in a mock fight. “You don’t have the power to stop a bomb this big!”

The black-haired Barbie squawked back that she could. That she will as long as Barbie has faith in her then-

“Maisy are you ready to go?” Her mother’s voice coming from the kitchen.

Raising her head and dropping the Barbies, Maisy jumped to her feet. Yelling, “No! I don’t have my shoes or my toys!”

Her mother called back for her to just worry about her shoes, her cousin will have plenty of toys to play with. Hinting that maybe there would be some games she and Lily could play since it was Lily’s 6th birthday party.

Maisy huffed at the mention of her orange-headed cousin. Again, she yelled for her mother as she attempted to put on her pink, light-up shoes. “That’s why I want to bring my toys! Lily doesn’t share!”

Sighing her mother walked into the warm front room with a purple gift under her arm. Kneeling to help her small child with the tricky laces. “I know that she can be difficult, but it would mean the world to me if you could try.”

With tied shoes, Maisy hopped to her feet. Letting the blue and red lights blink before answering her mother with an unconfident, “I’ll try.”

“That’s all I can ask for.” Her mother smiled as she took Maisy’s tiny hand in hers and walked out to their car with the gift in the other.

Their drive was short and filled with bad singing. As their final notes rang out so did the brakes squeak as the car stopped on the grey driveway. With a few quick clicks belts were unbuckled and doors were opened and closed. Once again hand and hand, mother, and daughter followed the symmetrical, stone path up to the white brick house.

As Maisy’s mother knocked on the navy door, she moved to hide herself. Clutching her mother’s larger hand tightly as her face was squished against the plush thighs of her mother.

The opening of the door brought the cheerfully ditzy voice of her Aunt Merced. The blonde woman welcomed them in with a warm hello and guided them to where to place their gift.

As the box hit the table, Aunt Merced turned to Maisy. Her smile was full of too-white teeth as she told Maisy that Lily and the other kids were outside, playing ‘fun’ party games.

Maisy’s wide eyes turned to her mother. Who simply nodded before pushing her child toward the clean, glass door. Maisy stumbled a couple of steps before looking back. A large pout on her lips as her mother chuckled. Another gesture and a reassuring smile caused Maisy to sigh dramatically before following the wishes of the all-mighty adults.

As she stepped out into the large backyard Maisy’s ears rang from the shrill screams of her cousins. Their footsteps crunched the cut grass like a herd of drunk elephants as they chased each other in large random patterns that come from the chaotic game of tag.

As her small muscles tensed, ready for the childish pandemonium when a shrill whistle halted all the kids like a spontaneous car accident. From those who fell to the dirt with now scrapped knees to the few who were unscathed, all had their eyes on the rotund, balding man with cherubic cheeks who was carrying a large, wrapped box.

“Alright kids,” The man’s voice rang through the air like a school bell. “We need y’all to get in one large circle to pass the parcel. We’re playing by Luke’s Dad’s rules.”

A loud mix of groans and cheers exploded from the kids as they moved to form a large circle. Some ran to slide into a seat, while others dragged their feet before sitting with a pout.

Maisy followed the crowd with a small smile before it soured at the realization that to her right sat the orange-haired monster named Lily. She watched as Lily’s yellow, plaque-covered teeth were revealed from a prideful sneer.

“Don’t you have something to say, Lazy?”

Scrunching her nose, Maisy growled out a simple ‘Happy birthday’ like there were sharp rocks stuck in her throat before turning away from her wicked cousin.

“Aw, tanks Lazy.” Maisy felt herself relax at that, maybe this party wouldn’t be so bad. Until Lily finished her thought. “I’m gonna destroy you, rub the huge prize in your face, and make you cry.” Or not.

Maisy’s mouth was open. Teeth bared with the worst insult a 5-year-old could slander on her tongue. When the old, bald cherub spoke up again from the middle of the group.

“Alrighty kids, the rules of this game are simple. One is when the music plays past the box. When it stops you can unwrap one layer. I’m gonna repeat that, ONE LAYER. Two, we aren’t raising a nation of squibs so no crying to your parents. If you can’t handle not getting a prize then don’t play. Lastly,” He placed the purple gift in front of Lily. “Have fun!”

His sentence ended and the game began with generic party music like a starter’s gun. Each kid was stiff and moved like they were coated in drying molasses. Fingers creased the paper as they hoped to be the one to unwrap the box.

The first pause gave Maisy’s cousin, Max, the chance to unwrap which he tore into like a voracious dog. When no small toy was found in the remains of the once pretty, purple, paper he pouted and rudely shoved the box into the next child’s hands.

Thus, the pattern of music and ripping paper was set. Some kids just shrugged before handing it over, while others followed Max’s lead and pouted with tears in their eyes. Round and round the party played until Lily tore her layer a little too hard and revealed the shinnying plastic of a new toy.

The circle of children went from the speed of flowing molasses in winter to that of an impatient lion cub waiting for its cue to enter its first hunt. Slowly but steadily the box moved around until the music stopped and so did the box.

The purple box was now prey to Maisy.

With no hesitation, she wrenched off the last layer of paper showing off a color-changing, silicon, light-up, chibi shark.

A loud chorus of wows echoed off the fences as everyone looked with envy upon Maisy’s new toy. However, none felt sweeter to Maisy than the bitter glare that Lily gave.

With a turn, Maisy looked into the eyes of the birthday girl. A wide smile split her face in glee. “What was that you were saying about winning, Lily?”

Lily huffed and lifted her nose high as she stomped away. Slamming the sliding door open and shut like the spoiled teenager she would be in 10 years.

Maisy only giggled as she watched her cousin disappear. Her new toy tucked tightly against her chest with a happier smile on her face. She practically bounced her way to show her mother the amazing shark she won.

As mother and daughter reunited in the modern-style living room, Maisy began to regal her mother with what felt like an old Western standoff at high noon, instead of the twelve kids in a circle that matched reality. Her mother could only chuckle in return as Maisy held up the prize like it was Simba in the Lion King once her tale was told. Excited for her mother to closely inspect the squishy shark.

Nodding, her mother handed the lamp back when a call for the children to gather around Lily rang out like a shrill, fire alarm.

Everyone gathered around Lily as she began to open her mountain of gifts, though Maisy paid no mind. Instead, she sat with her shark, squeezing its soft material while smiling at its big grin.

Soon the papers were piled high and many of the parents and children were released from the circle by the promise of cake in twenty minutes.

The chatter grew again like the coming of high tide, and all the children began to frolic about.

As many of the little ones were playing tag, Maisy moved to a dark corner of the yard. Giggling to herself as her chubby shark changed colors. It lit up the small cove with a brilliant rainbow of colors.

The sound of crunching took her attention away from the shark.

It was Lily, and she was stomping over. A look of fire in her eyes as she stopped before Maisy.

“That’s” Lily’s small hand swiped the shark away before sprinting away. “MINE!”

Maisy stared for a moment; her mouth stuck open in shock as the birthday girl ran off with HER Sharkie.

As her mind began to piece together the traumatic events of shark napping, a voice whispered.

“Aren’t you gonna fight for it, eh?”

With the speed of a lightning strike, Maisy turned to look over her shoulder. A gasp left her throat at the sight of the demon behind her.

“You look like the piss head man.”

His lilac eyes blinked owlishly at the young child as his pale, bat wings fluttered nervously behind him.

“W-where did you hear that word?”

“From the bird man!” She chirped.

The new demon brought a clawed hand to his mouth, chewing on his long, black nail as he mumbled the phrase to himself.

As Maisy watched, his eyes flashed with recognition, and flicked his sharp, white antlers instead of the typical snap of excitement.

“You mean, Allen, right?”

She hummed a simple yes as she nodded.

His smile quirked with hidden laughter as introduced himself as Matthew. The brother to the previously known piss head and someone that can help her get Sharkie back. Forever.

The child tilted her head to the side. “How?”

“It’s easy. Just punch her in the face.”

Now it was Maisy’s turn to blink. “But wouldn’t I get in trouble?”

“Not if you’re smart about it. After all it's how I kept my brother away from all my stuff.” He leaned down to her level, a large smile on his face. “Isn’t that what you want to do with Lily?”

Looking hesitant, Maisy looked side to side before nodding.

“Then go get her.” He used his long, alabaster tail to turn her around, the spade tip nudged her back pushing her forward.

Just like a couple of days ago, she was only a few steps into starting the story that would be retold at reunions when she ran into a pair of legs.

As her butt hit the ground, she looked upwards. Another bird man, or angel as he would be preferred to be called. Just like the last pair, he looked like his fair-toned counterpart. He differed with red and white owl wings and a silver halo instead of the white antlers. Though the new man wore red flannel with jeans while Matthew was dressed in a dark, thick, short winter coat with a furred collar.

He glanced down at Maisy before glaring at Matthew. “What are you telling this kid, hoser.”

“Nothing that won’t get her cousin off her back.” He snarked.

With a deep breath, the angel kneeled before Maisy. His intense purple eyes calmed her somehow.

“Hey, kido.” He rumbled. “Name’s Matt and that hoser behind ya is gonna get you into a lot of trouble.”

“But he said-“

Matt put his hand up. “Listen, kid, let me explain exactly what will happen.”

Maisy’s eyes widened as Matt elaborated his own version of the lost pencil metaphor. First, she would get her cousin off her back and win Sharkie back, but then Lily would cry to her mother. This would lead to her being in trouble with two adults. Being in trouble with two adults means a harsh punishment, one that would stay with her for a long time. Then she would go to school and being angry would fight another kid. Once again in trouble, thus getting a worse punishment. This cycle would repeat, getting worse each time until she would end up in jail and die alone.

She stared at Matt as he patted her shoulder. “This is why you listen to the angels,” He pointed to Matthew. “And not to the demons.”

Matthew just smiled at them both before pointing behind the duo. “At least you will have your shark through it all if you follow me.”

Maisy and Matt followed his finger. There in the distance, Lily was showing off sharkie. Loudly proclaiming it was Her’s and that she won it fair and square.

“Go get it.”

That simple phrase was like the starter’s gun as she bolted away from the angel and pounced on Lily. Punching the bigger child in the face as fought for her shark.

Through the screams, Maisy could hear both the supernatural creatures calling for her. Matt was yelling for her to stop, while Matthew was cheering her on.

As fast as her attack started, it ended.

The bald man had ripped her away from Lily. Hollering for her mother to calm the savage Maisy.

Both Aunt Merced and Maisy’s mother appeared. Each ran to their respective child and consoled them.

Lily was quick to accuse Maisy of being the aggressive one. She claimed that Maisy gave her the shark and promised ‘no takebacks’ but didn��t want to follow through.

Maisy tried to defend herself through hiccups-filled tears. Mentioning that Matthew, the monster man, told her to do it. But now she was scared that Matt’s, the bird man’s, prophecy would come true.

Her mother sighed and picked up Maisy. Holding close she rubbed the sore spots. “I think it's time we left. Can you hand me the shark, please?”

Aunt Merced scowled at Maisy’s mother. “Why would I do that? Obviously, your daughter gave up the toy.”

“No,” growled her mother. “Your daughter took the toy. Otherwise, my child would not have fought so hard to get it back.”

“Well, is she going to be punished?”

Her mother’s growl became a snarl. “Yes, but how I do so is none of your business. Now hand me THE TOY.”

Her aunt tchhed. A look of disgust on her face as she held the toy by its fin. “And if I don’t?”

“Then your child won’t be the only one crying.”

The shark was tossed as Aunt Merced carried Lily away. Muttering how all her other gifts are better than that stupid shark.

With a simple shake of her head, Maisy’s mom collected the toy and carried Maisy away from the party.

Quickly she clipped Maisy into her seat in the van and unknowingly let the creatures into their van as she followed with her own safety belt in the driver’s seat.

The drive started in silence. Before both entities turned to the child.

Matt spoke up first. “If you apologize, explain yourself, and try to do better then you may not end up alone in jail.”

“Don’t do that, Maisy.” Matthew countered. “You’ve got Lily off your back; you should be proud of that.”

Maisy sniffled before looking at Matthew. The betrayal created the perfect kicked look as she accused Matthew. “You got me in trouble. So, I’m gonna listen to Matt cuz I don’t wanna go to jail.”

The demon sighed heavily as he muttered a simple fine before fading out.

Matt chuckled and leaned over to ruffle Maisy’s hair. “Good job kid, just for the future we angels are looking out for you.”

He too, then disappeared.

As the van came to a stop, Maisy’s mother stepped out and retrieved her child.

Together they walked up to their house. As her mother began unlocking the door, Maisy followed Matt’s advice. She apologized, explained herself, and then promised to be better.

Her mother sighed and kneeled to her level. “I understand why you did it. But next time please come and get me. I want to make you into the wonderful adult I know you can be.”

“Does that mean I’m still in trouble?”

“Yes, Sharkie is going to be mine for the night.” Her mother smiled. “But you can have him back tomorrow morning.”

Maisy smiled at her mother and together they walked hand and hand into their cozy home.

As the door shut, Maisy glanced outside one more time. She noticed two things, the shadow of a tail and the glow of what could have been a halo.

In her young mind that meant one thing, another weird experience with monsters and birdmen was in her future.

But that could wait for another day.

[shallowseeker]

Cas being impervious to Jack dating whatever gender (and even some monsters, demons, etc)

but transforms into a 90s sitcom dad the minute there's the possibility of jack dating ANGELS

[damn-these-eyes]

S’up?

[angie-long-legs]

The old woman's inability to determine Angel's name or gender was hardly insulting to him. Being mistaken for a woman was a daily occurrence for the cross-dressing spider, and it wasn't like he expected this grandma to be familiar with his repertoire. Besides, her snide jab at Val immediately raised his opinion of the old hag.

"In the flesh, baby," he grinned, sticking a hand out confidently to greet the woman, who he had a strong feeling was the infamous Susan he had heard a myriad of tales about from Alastor and Husk (although their opinions of the woman were vastly opposing).

"The name's Angel Dust. Pleasure ta be meetin' ya. Now, you ain't Susan, by any chance, are ya?"

@angie-long-legs

Susan was trying to put a face to a name but it was evading her. "Ain't you that disaster butterfly's and The Princess' resident show g-"

Girl? Boy? Now that she thought of it she had seen Angel Dust in a number of outfits and she never allocated any time to look up this porn star, but knew they did good work.

"Showdemon? I think I also once saw you in a brawl with old man Pentious once on the Telly"

[radioisntdead]

This is my first time requesting anything from you so I hope this idea is okay but would you be willing to write something where the reader is Alastor's child (I live for Dad Alastor) and they meet Susan? Maybe they get really attached to her so every time they visit Cannibal Town Alastor has to reluctantly take his kid to see 'Grandma Susan' and be civil around her?

Only if you're up for it though! I love your blog so MUCH and I live for both the platonic Alastor and Susan content you do

-TheAmberFist ♡

Good evening my dear! I did headcanons I hope that's alright, I adore your blog's content as well! I reread your "leave it all on the dance floor" series often! I positively adore how you write Alastor's and the readers friendship! Also thank you so much for requesting this because that gives me an excuse to bring back this header!

Papa Alastor doesn't like Grandma Susan.

Alastor & child reader, Susan & adopted against Alastor's will grandchild reader.

Warnings: Cannibalism also reader is a fawn because deers.

HEADCANON TIMEEEEE

Much like my other Papa Alastor fics, he either picked you up off the streets, or you just straight up followed him home like a stray puppy.

He unwillingly became a father.

I imagine he was talking with your Auntie Rosie and You wandered off to explore Cannibal town!

Despite being in hell, it seems safe enough for children considering there were other children around.

Anywho you stumbled upon a cranky Susan and just immediately started going

"I like your dead rodent scarf!"

"It's a fox, what are you blind?"

Long story short she unwillingly became a grandmother that day because you would NOT LEAVE HER ALONE not that she minded

Alastor has to deal with you whining that you want to see Grandma Susan, dude does NOT want to call her your grandmother, in his eyes you only have one grandmother above that you will unfortunately never meet.

"I wanna see Grandma Susan!"

"She's not your grandmother, why in the devil's name would you want to see her?"

"Because she's my grandma,"

"No she's not."

"yes she is!"

"No."

"Yes!"

Que a repeat of no's and yes until he eventually relents because you are NOT TAKING NO FOR AN ANSWER.

I imagine Susan enjoys your company but also uses you to peeve off the embodiment of red-40 that is your parent.

Like Alastor leaves you with her for whatever reason and is just like

"Don't give them any candy, no more then two juice boxes anymore and they get rowdy."

Guess who got a little goodie bag of candies and had a whole box of CapriSuns?

Also I imagine you as a fawn, specifically one of these [no this totally isn't an excuse to show the deer pictures I have saved noooooo]

Susan puts either a bow or bow tie on you, I imagine she breaks into the hotel sometimes when Alastor is out and is just like "I'm taking my grandchild out, fuck off!"

Vaggie tried to stop her once and nearly lost an arm, so far the only ones that are successful in getting Susan to not kidnap you is Angel dust [aka your favorite babysitter] ,Rosie, Alastor himself, for everyone else they have to risk losing limbs, Charlie could probably coax you away from Susan.

They banned her from the hotel, set up security measures.

She keeps getting in they don't know how, they're terrified.

Nothing stops Susan.

Alastor keeps cordial with Susan because he can't do anything to Susan because of Rosie and also because much to his displeasure you are attached to the ornery old bitch.

Alastor wants to take you on a father-child day? Torturing sinners, getting cannibal ice cream, getting souls,

He can't BECAUSE Susan snuck into the hotel and snatched you up!

On the flip side, Susan wants to take you shopping because the modern [1920's-1930's] clothing Alastor dresses you in is horrendous, Her words not mine

But no Alastor literally just picked you up and teleported away, how rude! How dare he keep her from her grandchild?? Ungrateful brat who raised him? [She's lucky Alastor did NOT HEAR THAT, just because he's dead and his ma is in heaven does NOT MEAN HE'S NOT STILL A MAMA'S BOY the good version ]

I imagine as a consequence Susan starts acting like Alastor's parent, like threatening to ground him, telling him to go in the corner and think about what he's done, chastising him for his awful haircut, then grabbing a bowl and scissors.

Alastor hid behind Rosie while Susan and you looked for him because she was definitely planning on giving him a bowl cut.

Good evening folks! Oh how I've missed writing for Susan! I missed our grumpy grandma, I hope you enjoyed this! As per usual thank you for tuning in I hope to see you again soon!

[itsclydebitches]

Hazbin Hotel: Let's Talk About Cursing!

Trigger warning for lots of cursing in this post (obviously) and discussion of canon abuse scenes

As I delve further into the Hazbin Hotel fandom, I’ve inevitably come across a variety of people who dislike the show for an equal variety of reasons. One criticism I’ve seen with some consistency is in regards to the cursing and yeah, I get it. That’s not going to be everyone’s cup of tea. However, the repeated claim that the cursing is only there as a—failed—attempt at bad, lazy humor got me thinking about why I personally liked the cursing, and why I think it serves a greater purpose in the show.

Now yes, some of the cursing does function as an arguably simplistic joke. The most common setup I’ve noticed is one that leans into a contrast in tone/personalities. We see this a lot with the polite, comparatively timid Charlie as she navigates her distinctly vulgar domain.

Charlie: “Hi, mister!” Demon: “Go fuck yourself!”

The entirety of “Happy Day in Hell” plays with this contrast, setting up Charlie’s slightly skewed, but significantly optimistic perspective of Hell. We are shown again and again how her lyrics are contradicted or twisted into something less innocent through the visuals: a “revealing” street where it’s “hard not to stare” has BDSM going on in a nearby window, Charlie will “open the door” for her people and then literally does so... for a guy who’s already dead. (Or, you know, temporarily out of commission until he heals, or whatever demons do when they’re ‘killed’ by things other than angelic steel.) The entire point here is to contrast the happy, skipping girl claiming that there’s a “warm, fuzzy feeling” in the air with the actual environment of unchecked fires and decaying limbs. And yes, that can be amusing. Not necessarily for everyone as humor is highly subjective and dependent on context, but distilling this contrast down to the shock of a polite greeting getting a “Go fuck yourself!” in response is a kind of entertainment. Especially when Charlie’s reaction adds another layer: for me that’s a very funny—and currently relatable—expression.

We can potentially make the case that this humor format overstays its welcome, but I personally think the show does a good job of keeping Charlie’s cursing both simple and comparatively rare, so that when she is put into these contrast situations the humor lands better. The best example I can think of in the latter half of the show is Susan. There we get the whiplash of polite, trying-to-get-these-people-to-like-her Charlie reaching a breaking point to become “FUCK YOU, YOU OLD BITCH” Charlie. It’s a moment that builds off of the earlier surprise of the courteous Alastor calling someone an “Ornery old bitch”—while Rosie is trying (and failing) to find a nicer way to phrase this.

However, as stated above I think the cursing serves more of a purpose than to just be funny for (some) viewers. Beyond those who simply find cursing distasteful, I’ve seen a fair bit of, “This is so stupid. No one even talks like that!” going around.

Except... I do? I talk like that.

See, I like cursing. I was born to former hippie parents and grew up playing MMOs, so cursing was something I became pretty acclimated to. Personally, I’m glad I was because I’m fascinated by language and cursing—for better or worse—is an integral way that many people communicate. I was taught to see cursing not as the Bad Forbidden Thing You Must Never Ever Do, but rather as just another form of expression, something to be used in moderation and under specific circumstances. Once I became an adult I already understood how I wanted to curse and when it was appropriate to do so. People at work are often shocked when I tell them I curse a lot because no, of course I’m not doing that at my job. That isn't considered professional in this space. Among my friends though?

We can sound a lot like the Hazbin crew.

Undoubtedly the most common curse in the show is “fuck” and its variations, which very much tracks with my personal experience among other people who curse. In fact, it’s so ubiquitous that it barely counts as a curse at all in some groups. It’s more of an easy, accepted way to add emphasis. Vaggie’s “What the fuck was that?” about Alastor’s commercial is a perfect example. She’s pissed and simply saying “What was that?” doesn’t carry the same weight, no matter how angry she may sound when she says it. Vox’s long “Fuuuuuuuck” at the end of “Stayed Gone” conveys an emotion you just can’t capture any other way. No dialogue at all would create a fundamentally different experience of Vox’s feelings and another non-cursing response is just gonna hit different. Not necessarily bad, just different.

“I don’t want to go to the party!” “I don’t want to go to the freaking party!” “I don’t want to go to the fucking party!”

The above represents three distinct characters to me and I think Hazbin Hotel gets that. Cursing isn’t thrown around randomly because something something cursing supposedly sells; it’s all linguistically logical. Characters curse when something surprising or bad happens, or when something unexpectedly good happens, when they’re angry, trying to be sexy, or they want to add that emphasis. That’s a lot of different situations where cursing can be useful and when you use “fuck” in your daily life a lot you become pretty desensitized to it. As said, for many it’s barely a curse at all. Which means that when you really want to curse you’ve got to up the ante. It doesn’t surprise me one bit that the two uses of “cunt” I can recall—a word that is generally considered far worse than “fuck” and makes a lot of people understandably uncomfortable—is used by two of the worst characters in moments that are meant to horrify the viewer:

Adam: “Can’t wait a whole year to slaughter those little cunts / I know it’s just been a week, but we’ll be back in six months!” Valentino: “When I say you’d better get that fucking cunt out of my studio, you say...?”

This horror is especially emphasized in Valentino’s scene. The creators know this word is coming up and deliberately build towards it. Angel is currently being abused and has been reminded that Valentino “owns” him. The above question is a part of a trio that Valentino asks (a standard structure in writing), wherein the third option is the outlier/most shocking of the three. The animation leans into that shock, with the music building and Valentino grabbing Angel to pull him close right on the word “cunt.” Perez even puts emphasis there because he knows that this is a significant word that will change our understanding of Valentino.

Despite having hit Angel multiple times and taunting him with the contract, this is the moment Valentino stops playing the ‘nice’ employer. This is the real him. No more fake compliments and endearments aimed at Charlie, no more fake comfort/intimacy aimed at Angel. That “cunt” conveys a hell of a lot about how Valentino really sees them and when you have a cast of characters who are already cursing on the regular, it takes a word on that level to do that kind of work. If Valentino had said, “get that fucking bitch out of my studio” it wouldn’t have had nearly the same impact because he’s the kind of guy who uses "bitch" even when playing ‘nice.’

Adam’s line from “Hell is Forever” does very similar work. The scene needs a word to align with the horrific reveal that another extermination is just six months away, that conveys Adam’s deep disgust for Charlie’s people, and that still catches the viewer’s attention even though he’s the character (I believe) who curses the most. Here the music drops and Adam is a little closer to speaking than singing; there's this shift because, like with Valentino, our perception of him is shifting. This isn’t just some egotistical idiot who wants to be called “Dick Master,” he’s the leader of an army coming to gleefully kill them. Framing a whole world of people—people Charlie loves—as “cunts” while treating their murder as a holiday that can’t come soon enough creates an, 'Oh shit. This guy is actually a threat' understanding that you can’t quite get with anything else.

On a smaller scale, cursing does other character work throughout the whole show. I watched a number of cursing compilation vids for this meta (that was a trip lol) and again, cursing is not thrown in randomly. Each character has a unique way of cursing that aligns with their personality and motivations:

As said, Adam curses the most in the show which helps sell his truly over-the-top, irreverent personality. Linguistically, the amount he curses also allows for some fun grammatical play. Lines like, “Fucking love putting my name on shit, shit’s the best!” help convey the versatility of cursing.

Also as said, Charlie curses a fair bit but she’s comparatively polite and her cursing tends to be a result of genuinely big emotions—like saying “Crap” when she’s shocked and falls, or “Shit!” when Adam locks her out of the room—rather than sprinkled into her conversations as a modifier. That leaves space to create those moments of amused surprise when Charlie really let’s loose.

Sr Pentious curses even less than Charlie which fits his secretly gooey center. He talks a big game at the start of the show, but he’s actually quite bad at being, well, bad (especially the Amazon version compared to pilot!Pentious). His idea of getting one over on Alastor is ripping a bit of his coat. He loves his Egg Bois and “doesn’t want to live” without them. He has no desire to go into battle without minions/a big machine to hide behind and, of course, he’s the first to be redeemed. He's too much of a secret sweetheart to curse a lot.

Interestingly, Niffty doesn’t seem to curse at all. At least, not enough for me to think of examples off the top of my head. Right now I’m inclined to read that as an extension of her lived experiences/design—the cute 1950’s housewife archetype who is obsessed with keeping things clean doesn’t [gasp!] curse—as well as a way to maintain her legitimate creep factor. As said, cursing is common among the hotel residents and is a way for them to linguistically fit in. Niffty, however, is positioned more as an outsider (despite how much they all obviously love her): she’s actually scary in a way most demons aren’t and despite how weird this whole world is, she stands out as someone no one else can make sense of (even Alastor). If cursing is normal, Niffty is a character who is decidedly positioned as not normal.

Angel curses a fair bit, though his irreverence is conveyed more through innuendos. Angel is great at verbally twisting others’ words (especially Husk’s) to give himself a conversational advantage:

Husk: “Go fuck yourself” Angel: “Only if you watch me~”

Husk: “You’ve come—” Angel: [very loud orgasm noise] Husk: “...to the right place.”

Meanwhile, Husk uses “fuck” plenty, but he’s also one of the few characters who use “bullshit" too. I wouldn’t say there’s anything particularly revealing about that choice, but just giving him a go-to curse that’s otherwise used infrequently helps make his character distinct in a cast of other cursing characters.

Vaggie occasionally curses in Spanish, showing us her heritage if she used to be human, or a distinct knowledge/verbal preference if she’s always been an angel.

Heaven, as the ‘good’ side, doesn’t curse as a general rule, which leaves room for cursing to do more of that silent character work. We’re reminded of the stuffy, overly critical beings she’s dealing with when Charlie receives the combined judgement of the court for saying, “Fuck yeah!” In contrast, we understand just how shocked St. Peter is to see a Morningstar when he lets out an unintentional “Fuck!” The angry vindication of Charlie’s “That’s what the fuck I’ve been saying!” lands harder after multiple scenes of very little cursing, and Lute’s “Some crack-whore who fucked up already? / He blew his shot like the cocks in his mouth—” helps set her apart as an exorcist + Adam's second in command: her shocking violence comes through in her word choice too; words that supposedly don't belong in Heaven.

In what’s arguably the funniest line in the whole show, Lucifer undermines his dramatic standoff with Adam by going, “You mess with my daughter and now I’m going to fuck you.” Beyond just cutting the tension, that fits his bumbling, oblivious personality perfectly. Lucifer is crazy powerful and can absolutely wreck Adam. He also has none of the classy intimidation that, say, Alastor displays when he tries to convey that. This is a depressed himbo who makes ducks in his free time and settles on, “Hey, bitch!” when greeting his estranged daughter. Of course he’s going to accidentally turn a threat into a promise of sex.

Which finally brings me to Alastor, someone whose cursing is already understood well by the fandom. He’s characterized as manipulatively courteous, using manners to both hide his true nature and draw attention to his power—’You’re so beneath me I’ll just calmly sip my coffee and politely ask who you are, despite the fact that we've fought multiple times.’ This is a guy who calls people “My dear” and unironically insults them with the phrase “wacky nonsense.” So when he curses you can BET it’s gonna have an impact. It sure did for me. I had to pause the episode after Alastor’s first “Fuck you” because it was so shocking to hear that language from him. And that’s the point! The scene wants that reaction from the audience. The "Fuck you"s visceral anger contrasting the fake laughs he and Lucifer have been giving, the quick-fire exchange that’s suddenly cut short by Alastor’s choice of a direct insult, the fact that he’s officially dropping the polite veneer they’ve both been indulging in and raising the stakes before Charlie intervenes, the loss of the radio filter that otherwise demonstrates his control over a situation... all of it screams, ‘THIS IS AN IMPORTANT CHARACTER MOMENT.’

"Fuck you” reveals that, for the first time in the show, Alastor is legitimately threatened by someone. Which makes sense given that, you know, Lucifer is the King of Hell. Cursing for Alastor isn’t normal, so when he does curse it’s going to reveal something about a guy who otherwise is obsessed with being unknowable. Having the King of Hell dismiss him is actually infuriating in a way Sir Pentious’ threats could never be and the exchange kicks off a rivalry that rattles Alastor in ways Vox’s never has. (Side note: is it any wonder people ship them? Character A making control freak Character B feel vulnerable is classic!) It’s no surprise to me than that the one other true curse we get from Alastor is, “I’m about to end your fucking life,” delivered to Adam who, like Lucifer, poses a legitimate threat and does end up beating him. I say “true” curse because calling Susan a “bitch” does similar work for him, but the takeaway is humorous rather than dramatic. It’s funny that the only people who can piss Alastor off enough to curse are the First Man/a powerful exorcist angel threatening his life, the literal King of Hell... and Susan.

So there’s a lot going on here, more than what many viewers might assume if they approach the show as just “stupid,” needlessly vulgar entertainment. As shown above, I don’t think the cursing is needless, especially given that, well... they’re in Hell. They’re sinners, supposedly the worst that humanity has to offer, so of course they're going to curse a lot. Does cursing mean you’re a bad person? No. Can you craft a hellish world that doesn't rely on cursing to convey a group's immoral nature? Sure.

Does it make sense that a writer would equate a sinful, irreverent cast with linguistic rebellion and would want to convey a certain vibe that, frankly, you just can’t get without dropping an F bomb?

Yeah, I think so. No one has to like that kind of creative decision, but it’s worth acknowledging it as a deliberate choice.

That’s all! Thanks for reading this fucking long post ✌️

[anonymousewrites]

Nature of the Human Soul (Book 1) Chapter Eleven

Platonic! Hazbin Hotel x Teen! Reader

Father Figure! Alastor x Teen! Reader

Chapter Eleven: Convincing through Son

Summary: Charlie attempts to convince Cannibal Town to follow her into battle.

            Rosie lifted a megaphone and marched right outside to give Cannibal Town her announcement. She had Charlie and (Y/N) under her arms and was quite pleased to be bringing her guests around her territory. Alastor walked behind, pleased with how his plans were turning out.

            “Cannibals and cannibettes!” called Rosie. “Assemble in the square!” She looked at Charlie. “Now, darling, you know I would do anything, anything for my clients, but I can’t exactly command all of Cannibal Town to follow someone else into battle.”

            At least she’s respectful, thought (Y/N).

            “Now, don’t get me wrong, they love carnage and bloodshed, but to get this group in line, you got to win ‘em over.” She spoke through her megaphone again as they arrived at the square. “Settle in!” The crowd had gathered. “Settle in! Important meeting.”

            Charlie cringed. “But how do I—”

            “With sparkle! Razzmatazz!” declared Rosie, and (Y/N) decided they liked her even more now. “And that oh-so-appealing moxie of yours.”

            “Shouldn’t be a problem!” said Alastor. He grinned at Charlie. “It’s not like you’ve ever failed to inspire before.”

            “You can do it, Charlie,” said (Y/N) encouragingly as they walked onto the dais.

            Charlie groaned anxiously.

            “But fair warning, this group sticks together,” said Rosie. “So in order to convince any of them, you’ll have to convince all of them.”

            “Yikes,” said (Y/N).

            Rosie huffed. “And there’s one in particular—”

            “Ugh, Susan,” said Alastor, rolling his eyes.

            “Susan,” agreed Rosie. “Who’s a bit of an, uh…” She considered.

            “Ornery old bitch?” suggested Alastor cheerfully.

            “That!” said Rosie. She leaned down to Charlie. “She’s tough, but win her over and the rest will be easy as pie.”

            “You’ve got this,” said (Y/N), giving Charlie a thumbs-up.

            “Ready?” said Rosie.

            “I guess…” said Charlie.

            “Everyone, we have a very special, very royal guest this evening!” announced Rosie. “Please put your bloody hands together for Princess Charlie!”

            She waved awkwardly from the microphone.

            Instantly, a cranky voice rang out. “Boo! Bring Rosie back!” The crowd parted to reveal an old cannibal in furs waving a walking stick around.

            “Susan?” said (Y/N), looking at Alastor and Rosie.

            “Susan,” they said simultaneously.

            Charlie coughed and accidentally hit the microphone. The feedback squealed, and the crowd cringed.

            “Sorry! Uh, okay,” said Charlie, stumbling over her words. “Uh, my name’s Charlie, and—”

            “Boo!” heckled Susan.

            “Well, I run this hotel with my partn—”

            “Get off the stage you blue-blood bitch!”

            “—well, someone, and—”

            “Boo!”

            “Wait, let me start over.”

            “We don’t give a shit about some hotel.”

            “Angels are coming to kill us all, and we need help defending our realm.”

            “Leave before I eat those big-ass eyes of yours!”

            “So, we, uh, we need your help—”

            “Boo! Get off.”

            This really isn’t going well, thought (Y/N), wincing at how awkward the situation was.

            “With your assistance, we can make a stand for—” tried Charlie.

            “Where’s the showmanship?” sneered Susan.

            “I…I have a dream!” Charlie tried to sing.

            “Where all the finesse? Fucking mediocre.”

            “Fuck you! You old bitch!” Charlie snapped and gave Susan the finger.

            The crowd gasped.

            “Okay!” Rosie rushed up to salvage the situation. She took Charlie by the shoulders and guided her away. “We’ll be back after a brief intermission.”

            “Well, I think that went well,” said Alastor, grinning.

            “For you, yeah, because you got entertainment,” said (Y/N), smiling.

            “Precisely!” said Alastor.

            “Do you think Charlie can convince them all to follow her?” said (Y/N), looking out over the crowd of cannibals.

            “If she can entertain them enough,” said Alastor. “And Charlie is always quite amusing.”

            “I hope it works. I think if we have numbers, we have a chance against the angels.” (Y/N) narrowed their eyes. “And I really want a chance to fight the angels. I don’t like them.”

            “I’m sure you’ll get plenty of chances to kill them to your hearts content,” said Alastor, grinning widely. “Just make sure to practice defense techniques with your magic. We can’t have you getting killed, can we?”

            “I’d rather not,” laughed (Y/N), and Alastor smiled. (Y/N) looked at him. “And make sure to take care of yourself, too.”

            Alastor laughed. “I am the Radio Demon. It will take more than some angels to harm me.”

            “You’re strong, yeah,” said (Y/N). “But, still, I don’t want you to die.”

            Alastor’s smile froze, and he cocked his head. Instead of getting a reply, though, Rosie and Charlie returned to the square before more could be said.

            “You can do this,” said Rosie gently.

            Charlie looked at her nervously. Alastor held out his microphone, and Charlie’s eyes widened. (Y/N) nodded encouragingly, and Charlie squared her shoulders, holding the staff in front of her. She took a deep breath and began to sing.

(Charlie) “Have you ever wanted something that was so clear in your mind that you could taste it?

            “You mean like human flesh?” piped up Susan.

            “Eugh, sort of,” said Charlie, smiling awkwardly.

(Charlie) “It’s a feeling like a rumbling in your gut that you could finally be faced with a billion needy faces, I guess what I mean to say is For the first time in my life, I might have to be ready for this.”

            She glanced at the others. Rosie clapped and smiled, Alastor gave a thumbs-up, and (Y/N) nodded and grinned. Charlie’s confidence surged.

(Charlie) “Ready to be the one who’s leading from the front, Gotta come into my own, Gotta come into my throne~ Gotta take charge and defend my only home, And although I kinda feel unsteady, Now I need to be ready for this.”

            She stepped down from the dais and walked among the people of Cannibal Town.

(Charlie) “Have you ever felt like you’re willing to die to save the people of your city?”

            “By ‘die to do’ you mean use my teeth to rip flesh apart?” asked Susan.

            “That’s a start!” said Charlie, deciding to let Susan have her fun.

(Charlie) “’Cause right now we need a leader, And it seems to me that Destiny has picked me to be that, If you’ll permit me. So who’s with me?”

            She spun around and grinned.

(Charlie) “Wouldn’t it be super to see more of Hell? Join up now if you like travel, Come on boys hope in the saddle, Lotta sights to see en route to my hotel, Not to mention the camaraderie, Yes, siree, you’ll form life-changing friendships With folks along the way!” (Alastor) “And feast on all the angels you can eat!” (Charlie) “Okay…”

            However, the incentive of food instantly piqued the attention of the crowd. The cannibals were excited, eager to get a taste of the exorcists that had plagued them for so long.

(Cannibals) “It’s time now to act, They’re on the attack! When they move to strike, We will fight biting back!”

            Charlie had done it. Alastor took back his microphone, and Rosie placed her own staff with a skull-head in Charlie’s hand to lead the cannibals.

(Cannibals) “We’ll follow your lead, We’re eager to feed, We’ll sharpen our teeth for the heavenly feast, From this moment on, you can count on us, To be resolute and ravenous! Our appetites are whet, and we’re set to seize the day, So I say, ‘Oh, hey!’ come join the flesh buffet!” (Charlie) “Well, that’s a little violent, Can we tone it down?” (Rosie) “Oh, don’t be put off by their snarlin’ That’s enthusiasm, darlin’!”

            Charlie looked out over the ravenous cannibals as they retrieved weapons and grinned widely.

(Charlie) “Eh, they just seem a little murder-y right now.” (Rosie) “Don’t worry, honey, that’s their thing, Keep singing.” (Charlie and Rosie) “We’re super-duper grateful to have you aboard!” (Cannibals) “We can’t wait to taste an angel’s wings!” (Charlie) “Oh, lord.”

            The crowd grabbed her and supported her above their shoulders, and Charlie looked out proudly, hands on her hips.

(Charlie) “For the first time in my life, Maybe I can be ready for this, I can be the marshal leading the parade, I can come into my own, And I think I’ve always known, My destiny could never be postponed! When Adam brings the battle here, I must appear Like I’m ready for this!”

            Rosie, Alastor, and (Y/N) grinned as they watched.

(Rosie) “They’re dancing along, They’re singing her song!”

            She spun (Y/N) around.

(Alastor) “Surprised, why, I knew she could do it all along!”

            He spun (Y/N) around, and they laughed.

((Y/N)) “She’s bound to pass the test as Princess of Hell!” ((Y/N), Alastor, Rosie) “Like her daddy, she is madly power-fell!”

            Alastor spun Rosie around, and she grinned and held (Y/N)’s hands, swinging them up.

(Alastor) “She’s filled with potential that I could guide!”

            Rosie grabbed him and (Y/N) and pulled them close.

(Rosie) “I concur!” (Rosie, Alastor, (Y/N)) “Stick with her, You’ll be on the winning side!” (All) “For the first time in our lives, We know that we are ready for this!” (Rosie) “We’ll show Heaven a fight they won’t forget!” (All) “It’s to take a stand!” (Charlie) “It’s time to lend a hand!”

            “Huzzah!” shouted the crowd.

(All) “Against all the angels and their deadly threat! We cannot take it anymore, The time has come to go to war, Prepare to fight, we’re ready for thiiiiis!” (Charlie) “I really hope that I’m ready for this.”

Taglist:

@kyalov

@pandaquick

@boredwithlifeatthispoint

@jaytheaceenby

@paastaboi

@bettybabys

@gxdoesstuff

@grippleback-galaxy

@just-here-reading

@dmitrytherat

@a-small-tyrant

@marxo5

@rory-cakes

@andsoigotabutterfly

@theblueslytherin

@romyoia

@ray-rook

@thereeallink

@pandaquick

@funkyexistence

@theyaremorethanjustfictional

@lanxianschoenheit

@justyourfriendlyneighbourhood1

@ringsofpersonti

@futureittomainn

@enderpearltv

@oo0lady-mad0oo

@falsemain

@a-huge-bi-nerd

@lost-in-the-hellaverse

@tagthetrekkie

@amberforest08

[hazelfoureyes]

The most important question of all: What type of drunk is everyone in the hotel?

Deeply held personal beliefs here lmao

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹ Alastor

𖦹Alastor loves being the center of attention and he drops his need for an air of mystery when he’s a few fingers deep into the rye. He grabs unwilling participants by the wrists and swing dances with them, despite their clear lack of understanding on how to swing.

𖦹He hums and sings under his breath while sitting in a comfy chair.

𖦹Loqacious! Vaggie would like him to shut the fuck up, Charlie is alarmed because he always reminisces about his real life murders like discussing a loving partner long gone. He is a talkative drunk through and through.

𖦹 Next day: No shame the next morning. Everyone’s annoyed and he might be a little sheepish, but ultimately he doesn’t care.

𖦹Smutty: Never lets you top, but once he’s had a few and has relaxed, will happily lie back and let you take care of yourself with his body while he watches you. Rarely vocal during sex, he’s suddenly talkative and showering you in groans and moans.

Lucifer 𖦹Lucifer doesn’t drink. He really doesn’t. Oh geez, okay well if Charlie is asking so sweetly and everyone else is what’s the harm in-

𖦹Shirt unbuttoned halfway, everything he says sounds like a double entendre even if it isn’t. Cannot stop flirting, even accidentally. The flirty drunk has arrived.

𖦹He stays put, picks a chair or stool and just hunkers down, watching happily over the gathering.

𖦹Pet names for everyone. CharChar, Magpie, Legs, Whiskers, Bambi… Niffty is just Niffty. Even drunk he is a little scared of her.

𖦹Next day: No hangover, excitedly and nervously listening to all the stories of things he did. “Yeah that sounds like me hahaha”

𖦹Smutty: Slow love making, takes his time and moves over you like molasses. Doesn’t care about finishing, just likes the feeling of being close to you and hearing the sounds you make. 50/50 you fall asleep together with him still in you.

Angel Dust

𖦹Angel handles his liquor like he’s handles his men; with an open throat and a smile. It’s genuinely hard to tell if he’s drunk unless he’s so gone his pitch of voice has changed. 𖦹With a little inebriation, he’s leaning into his friends and talking really openly about his feelings and problems in life. 𖦹Drunk? Like— drunk drunk? He’s loud and hanging on everyone for stability. Every grin borders on sleazy, but if the wrong person made a move they’d get four hands to the face pushing them away. Alastor thinks he is the life of the party; Angel is the party.

𖦹Next day: Angel has no memory of what happened the night before and even if he does he will just pull his sunglasses down and pretend he doesn’t.

𖦹Smutty: Angel likes drunk sex, because he can feel his body disconnect from his mind. His eyes would be unfocused, and no matter the lover his gaze would always be at the ceiling. His attention purely on the sensations his body was offering him. He’d be quiet, just enjoying himself.

Husker

𖦹Husk is usually ornery, but when drunk he becomes the wise old man who wont stop talking to you like a kid. Husk, I’m a grown ass adult? Ha, in my day you would still be in diapers. That doesn’t make any sense Husk. Sense? Your lot don’t know shit about sense.

𖦹When he isn’t pretending to be everyone’s drunk Gandalf, compliments flow like booze from a tipped bottle. You’re real pretty when you smile. Wish I saw more of it. — That’s what I like about you, you always get back up.

𖦹Husk is always topping up everyone’s glass, and even when drunk he’s the one who registers when someone’s had enough. On many occasions he has replaced Angel’s drink with just orange juice and soda water when he wasnt looking, too drunk to notice.

𖦹Next day: Yesterday didn’t happen, order a drink or get the fuck out of the bar.

𖦹Smutty: Husk doesn’t like sex when he’s drunk, he doesn’t like the implication anyone may not be fully aware of what’s happening. He’ll cuddle, caress, kiss, but no sex unless you’re relatively sober or you had explicitly made plans to enjoy a drunken romp. In which case, he relishes in changing positions often to find new ways to make you gasp out his name. Tipsy or not, his hands are always steady.

Charlie

𖦹Charlie is the happiest drunk to exist. Her confidence sores with a little liquid courage. She’ll clamor onto the bar and declare she is going to redeem all of Hell, making the Pride ring a glorified bus stop between death and the pearly gates.

𖦹Clumsy. She talks with her hands and spills her drink everywhere. Constantly running into things with her hips and feet. She will trip over nothing, and apologize to the air for the misstep.

𖦹Charlie oscillates between talking nonstop to being dead silent, big doe eyes watching intently as you speak. She’s hanging on every word.

𖦹Tells everyone she loves them, then cries about how much she loves them.

𖦹Next day: Hungover, doesn’t understand why people drink so often, this sucks. Slightly embarrassed about getting up on the bar but otherwise has no issues knowing she doted on everyone.

𖦹Smutty: The Morningstars are similar in that they take their time. They need to hear every little gasp, every held breath. Charlie would spend hours exploring the places she could make bring you pleasure. Little giggles from between your legs as she gives herself mental pats on the back.

Vaggie

𖦹Drunk Vaggie is similar to Sober Vaggie. Serious but caring, and relatively quiet. She wouldn’t become overly showy or loud. Your only indication she’s been drinking is the slight slur to her words and the way her hands tip her drink a little too much when talking.

𖦹Goes on full rants about heaven if the topic comes up. Just bashes the hypocrisy and curses her fellow angels.

𖦹Slips more into Spanish, her words dipping between the two languages.

𖦹Little more handsy, resting her chin on her darling’s shoulder and letting her hands come around their waist while they are talking to people.

𖦹Next day: Needs everyone to shut the fuck up and turn the lights off. She swears she’s never letting Angel mix her drinks again. Mortified to hear she was necking in the lobby.

𖦹Smutty: Drunk Vaggie just wants to kiss and hold you, enjoying the way the room spins a little around you both as you lose track of time. She’s down for more, but only if you’re taking the lead.

Niffty

𖦹Please stop handing her drinks.

𖦹Fuck, she’s drinking other people’s drinks when they aren’t looking.

𖦹She’s dusting the ceiling, she’s vacuuming the sofa, dear God she’s scrubbing Angel’s hands with pure bleach shrieking, “Diiiiirty.”

𖦹Unhinged. More so. Somehow. Makes everyone a crown of trash.

𖦹Next day: is she still drunk? No? This is just her natural state of being?!

𖦹Smutty: Bad boys welcome, everyone else can get shanked.

༻Masterlist༺

∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum , @alitaar , @maddiemouse-1226 , @christineblood , @zombiesnips-blog , @readergirlstuff

@ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1 , @simphornies , @alleystore , @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @fizzled-phoenix , @fjorjestertealeaf , @phobophobular , @surusurusuru , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @simplyonehellofanotaku , @xixflower , @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 , @watereddownmilk , @raynerrold , @crazii-saber-wolf , @valkyrie-expeditions , @bontensbabygirl , @sillyb0nez , @oo0lady-mad0oo , @jazzmasternot

[demonicchicken1121]

Alastor, Rosie, and Cannibal Town: an Analysis (I’m fucking at it (Alastor Posting) again)

Ok I know that a lot of people have already been talking about this, but I really want to analyze Alastors behavior in cannibal town and how it’s so much different than how he behaves literally anywhere else.

Alastors true motives, personality, opinions, etc are widely debated in the fandom. Does he actually care about Charlie or the hotel? What’s his beef with Lucifer? Why did he make a deal and who was it with? Al is such a mysterious and closed off character, and his demeanor changes so frequently that no one in or out of universe really knows much about him. I personally think that the closest we get to seeing Alastor in his truest and most authentic self is when he’s in cannibal town.

From the moment they arrive, Alastors demeanor changes dramatically, even from a few moments before, when Charlie was venting about her relationship issues. He seems genuinely excited to be there and see Rosie, to the point where he seems to forget he brought Charlie here for a reason (hell I think he forgets Charlie is even there at a few points.)

Al and Rosie HAVE seen each other since he returned to hell, at the overlord meeting, but they didn’t really have the time to interact. Even so, they are so in tune with each other. This man was gone for seven years and here they are gaslight gatekeep girlbossing like nothing happened.

But once they actually have the opportunity to interact outside of the overlord meeting they’re super excited to catch up. The only other time he shows this much enthusiasm to see someone is with Mimzy, but things quickly goes south when she puts the hotel is danger. Alastors friendship with mimzy feels very onesided, and it seems that she only shows up when she needs something. While Alastor and Rosie clearly ask each other for favors, it feels a lot more equal in a way where they each get an equal amount of benefit.

And while we haven’t seen much of them yet, I get the vibe that they hang out in their free time and respect each others boundaries and schedules. I think Al went through cannibal town hoping to see her in the prequel comic, but figured she was busy after the extermination and instead asked some of the residents to say hello on his behalf. But that’s just a theory, a gam-

Also just a little thing I noticed, when rosie is joking about Charlie being too young for Alastor, Charlie looks visibly annoyed, but Alastors body language and expression don’t change. He tends to react relatively strongly when anyone (Angel) makes a move on him or assumes he’s dating anyone, but I think he knows Rosie well enough to know she’s joking.

Alastor lets his guard down so much in this part of the episode. He’s really in his element and his behavior seems so natural and genuine.

I love how he’s so willing to just roast Susan. Every iconic duo has that one person they fucking hate and will not be subtle about how much they fucking hate them. It’s especially funny with alastor, who’s usually really pretentious and passive aggressive when he insults someone, but with Susan it’s just

“✨Ornery old bitch?✨” also this is the only time in the entire series that alastor swears in a genuinely humorous way. In almost every other example, he is trying to intimidate someone or piss them off, and also when his staff was broken.

And speaking of his staff, I think it was actually a big deal that Alastor let Charlie use it, even tho it was for a very short time. This does show that whether or not he actually cares about her, Alastor does have a certain amount of trust and respect for Charlie. Despite that, I don’t think he would have done this if he wasn’t in cannibal town and with Rosie. The staff is clearly very important to him and likely holds some amount of his power, given how he reacted when it was broken.

As weird as this sentence is out of context, I think Alastor feels very safe in cannibal down. Rosie and probably the other cannibals genuinely like and respect him. it speaks volumes that not only he let Charlie use his staff, but he put himself in the position that would leave him vulnerable to Rosie if Charlie were to turn on him. While he knows it’s highly unlikely that would happen, I think it’s still worth noting that he intentionally left himself in such a vulnerable position in cannibal town and nowhere else.

Something else interesting I noticed, is that “ready for this” is one of the only songs that Alastor is interacting with another character, and isn’t competing for the spotlight. He is walking all over Vox in “stayed gone”, and getting walked all over by Lucifer in “Hells greatest dad”, but here, he’s very in tune with everyone else. He and Rosie are on equal footing and he feels secure enough to fade into the background a bit, harmonizing with the cannibals and letting Charlie take the lead.

So yeah, I feel like Cannibal town is alastors home in hell. His relationship with Rosie is probably the most positive relationship he has in the whole show. I think viv has mentioned that Alastor wasn’t a cannibal before he died, and I’m not sure if that’s still canon, but if it is, I can definitely see him becoming a cannibal when he became friends with Rosie. I can also see Rosie being one of his first friends in hell, maybe they even rose to power together. I’m clearly getting into some more speculative headcanons because I do what I want, but I’m putting them in their own section.

Now for headcanons with little to no substantial evidence ✨✨✨

I do actually really like the idea that they became friends very quickly and rose to power together. I like the idea that they were friends before Alastor became this super powerful force in hell. It also makes sense that he would trust someone who wanted to be his friend back when people weren’t constantly asking for favors or testing his power. Bc I do think that there was a short period of time between him arriving in hell and rising to power. (I have a lot of ideas about how he got his powers which probably will get its own post, but to brief, he wasn’t super powerful when he arrived in hell.) it makes sense that him and Rosie would have become friends in that period.

When he did start rising to power, I think Rosie would have guided him, given that he was a relatively new sinner. She would help him find overlords to target, possibly even letting him recruit cannibals to help him take them down. After he was finished broadcasting their screams, he would return their bodies to Rosie for her to sell. Maybe any cannibals who helped him would get discounts or first pickings.

This makes sense to me bc not only would it help explain why Alastor has never seen Rosie as a rival or a target, but also it would help explain why they’re so close. Nothing builds a friendship better than overthrowing incredible forces of power. Also they totally square dance on the weekends.

Viv please I need an episode that’s nothing but these two dicking around in cannibal town for twenty minutes.

[margoteve]

Alastor vs Vox this

Alastor vs Lucifer that.

You know what we need> Susan vs all of them. I want this "ornery old bitch" to destroy the Vs, Al and Luce with the might of her umbrella. Be that absolute spitfire of a grandma to Charlie and put the fear of her into anyone who dares to threaten Charlie. I want to see her destroy Angel Dust in a horny stories competition and have drinks with Nifty.

It would be hilarious seeing Al stick to the walls whenever she is around forming allience with Luce against the old bag LMAO

[my2phetaliaheadcanons]

It’s Weird It Happened Twice Part 1

A short, chubby, 5-year-old girl followed behind her mother like a yellow, fluffy duckling through the various aisles of the local grocery store. Together they filled a silver cart with shiny bags of snacks and boxes of green produce until the buggy contained a great tower of foods and goods.

As they crossed the checkered tiles to the self-checkout bullpen, our tiny heroine stopped. Gasping with wide eyes at the display case full of colorful candies. Everything from her favorite chocolates to the sourest of gummi worms was all softly chatting to her. Calling for her by name, begging to be consumed in the animalistic way only a child could.

“Maisy. Maisy!”

When her silence continued, a hand joined the new, louder voice to shake Maisy from the sweets’ siren song. She finally jumped and turned to see her mother standing there with a quirked brow and an amused smile.

“Whatcha lookin at Daisy-Maisy?”

Pointing to the large display, Maisy spoke with a smile and big puppy dog eyes. “Momma, can we get some? Pretty please?”

“I’m sorry sweetheart, but candy isn’t in the budget this week. Maybe we could make some cookies instead?”

Maisy pouted and questioned why. Every other time they came to the store she got candy, what made today any different?

Sighing, her mother gave her a gentle push forward. “I promise you that cookies will taste infinity times better than those.”

Huffing, Maisy turned her head to make one more attempt. “But, momma I feel icky and candy could make it go away!” Her arms crossed over her belly as she curled inward to emphasize the severity of her sudden ‘disease’.

Chuckling, her mother shook her head. “If it's that bad maybe a doctor with a shot would do you better. They could make sure that the pain will never come back.”

“No!! I’m fine momma. See!” Maisy jumped up and down before showing her ‘muscles’ to show her health.

Heartily her mother laughed before ushering her forward again to the checkout. “Alright, I believe you.”

As cows herded toward a new pen, Maisy and her mother fell into the long line. Maisy rocked on her toes between steps as she heard the high-pitched, monotone beeps of the registers. As they slowly made their way to the line’s front, and with a quick nod from the apathetic employee they pulled up to the open blue and silver register.

Her mother was quick to follow her predecessors by continuing the patterns of shrill beeps, but Maisy paid it no mind.

For her old tempter was back once more. The cheap checkout candy display cast its spell, this one feeling stronger than the one minutes prior.

As the low-quality candy sang, she smelt something that made her young mind think of burnt eggs and smoke. A deep voice from her right spoke saying, “Take it.”

Squeaking, Maisy stumbled backward closer to the cart. Her mouth dropped in shock at the figure before her.

He was tall with blond hair that would have made him appear normal, and handsome even if it wasn’t for the sharp, black, ram horns protruding from his head, the dark, bat wings on his back, and the long spade tail.

“Hey, darlin.” He smiled lazily with a mouth full of fangs as he lowered himself to Maisy’s level. “Heard you weren’t feelin too hot. Do you still need that candy cure?”

Maisy stuttered, and questioned who he was, as she felt paralyzed by his wild, blue eyes.

Chuckling, with snake-like motions the demon used his tail to push the unsteady child closer to the shelves. “It doesn’t matter, but come on sweetheart. Just take one.”

“But,” Maisy glanced back to her mother. Noting that she seemed unaware of her daughter’s dilemma “Momma said that I can’t.”

“Well, Momma doesn’t need to know. After all, you would only gonna take one,” His smile somehow grew even bigger. “right?”

Blinking Maisy asked how she would do that. Moms know everything.

Moving to squat beside her, he gestured her closer. “I’ll let you in on a little secret.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “Moms don’t know everything. Besides she can’t even see me and that should be proof enough that I’m right.”

As he pulled back, Maisy looked at her mother once more, watching her having scanned and bagged most of the cart.

“Also, wouldn’t your pockets hold a candy bar better than those cookies she promised?”

“I guess your right,” Maisy said as her stare returned to the cheap display.

Her tiny hand reached out to grasp the silver and red chocolate bar. Small fingers grazed the smooth, papery wrapper when a large, tanned hand grasped her own.

Maisy gasped and snapped her head to the left. Startled to see another man, this one had appeared somewhat similar with the same face and build as the demon, but at the same time, he was different. Blue eyes were now red, his hair a copperish crimson, and instead of bat wings, the stranger had shining, white, and silver eagle wings. Finally, a sparkly halo sat on his head instead of the evil-looking horns.

The new creature ignored her stare as his fiery glare was fixed on the other. “What do you think you’re doing Alfred?”

The now-dubbed Alfred stood to his full height. Smile tight as he leaned forward. Hand gesturing to Maisy. “Curing this child of her sudden illness, Al~.”

“By convincing her to steal?!”

“Her mother failed, so I’m stepping up.”

Forcing a rush of air out of his nose, Al kneeled before Maisy. His body softened as he pulled her closer before releasing her hand. “Did that piss head hurt ya, pigeon?”

Maisy quickly shook her head no while blinking her eyes owlishly. Before a quick tug moved her away from Al and back to Alfred.

“Allen, you can’t use that language around a child!”

He scoffed as he reached for the child again. “I will use it as I please. Especially” Allen dragged Maisy back to him. Wrapping his tattooed arms around her. “If it helps get the damn message through their thick ass skulls faster.”

“ALLEN!”

Ignoring the flustered demon as his black wings flapped, Allen forced Maisy to look him in the eye.

“You love your mother?”

Maisy nodded with a little hum.

“Then do you know what happens to mothers when you steal?”

Wide-eyed Maisy shook her head no again.

“They get sad. Like so sad that you can hear their hearts shatter like that prick’s ego.”

“Is that loud?”

“Very.”

For the second time that day, Maisy softly ohed as she looked at the candy behind the angel. Her lips pouted and then trembled as she realized how she could have broken her mother’s heart. Her eyes filled with tears at the fear of her mother dying because a broken heart sounded deadly to her young mind.

The blue-eyed demon gritted his teeth as he pushed the angel over and onto the dirty tile. “Now, look what you’ve done! She’s crying, how is she gonna steal if she’s in tears!”

Grinning Al stood and pushed Alfred back before spreading his arms in an ‘I win’ gesture.

Maisy's sobs went ignored as the two continued to shove each other. Getting more aggressive and throwing in insults before Al had enough and tackled the demon. Causing them both to fade like the text on a PowerPoint.

Now feeling alone Maisy’s cries became hysterical as she ran back to her mother. Crashing into her legs as she begged her mother not to die.

Shocked her mother pulled her into her arms. Shushing her and muttering calming phrases as she urged Maisy to explain the reason behind her tears.

Maisy hiccupped as her emotions finally calmed. She sought out additional comfort by burying herself deeper into her mother’s embrace. Repeating her pleas for her not to die.

With a confused giggle, her mother promised that she wouldn’t. Asking if she was ready to go home and make some cookies.

With a sleepy yes, Maisy was carried out of the store as the cart squeaked. The warmth of her mother chasing away the memory of the demon and angel for now.

 Before anyone asks, I have dubbed this AU already. It is Ornery Angels because that can be the only true opposite of the Sweet Devils. And part 2 is already in the work, hopefully I can get it out soon.

[chvoswxtch]

return the favor

pairing: matt murdock x fem!reader x frank castle

summary: you're always there when matt and frank need you, no matter what it is, or what time of day. they decide it's time to return the favor, and show some gratitude.

warnings: all of them. every single one of them. swearing, mentions of blood, explicit sexual content (minors dni, seriously this is like x rated), little bits of fluff sprinkled in

word count: 12.6k

a/n: i'm not even going to apologize. y'all know me by now. y'all know who I am as a person. y'all know I cannot be normal about either one of them, and i've stopped trying to be. my inner slut took over when I wrote this, and it is filthy. it had me sweating like a whore in church. I don't even go to church. i'm not even religious, and I feel like I need to pray for forgiveness after this. this baby is over 30 pages, and it is a ride. ;)

this is my holiday gift to each and every one of you precious angel babies. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated! ❤️

also again, i'm still not sure if the glitch with dark mode has been fixed or not but if you're on dark mode, you may have trouble viewing this. I apologize for any inconvenience reading in advance!

At this point you weren’t sure who started it this time. Honestly, you weren’t even sure if one of them had started it, or if it was just another argument carrying over from earlier. You’d given up keeping score in their little competition of who could be more ornery. It used to amuse you. The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen and the big bad Punisher constantly bickering back and forth like an old married couple, muttering under their breath in exasperation at the others' antics, yet still fighting through all that annoyance to come to the other’s defense if need be. If it had been any other night, you might have been entertained. You might have even laughed at how ridiculous they were being. But it was nearly midnight, you were beyond exhausted, and to top it all off, it was absolutely fucking freezing on top of this roof. 

Why were you even here again? Oh yeah, Frank. He had sustained a pretty nasty cut to his arm after what was supposed to be an easy takedown had turned into a confounded ambush. You’d received a simple text from Matt’s burner phone a little over an hour earlier that had just consisted of the words “roof” and “kit”. Using your context clues, you assumed he meant his roof. You didn’t even give it much thought before you were bracing yourself against the November chill for seven blocks, letting yourself in with your emergency spare key and grabbing the medical kit from his bathroom on the way up. Patching up Matt was something you were used to by now, but you were incredibly anxious as to why he wanted you to meet him on the roof of his building. Was he hurt that bad? Could he not even make it inside? Should you call Claire?

Your thumb hovered over her number as you ascended the stairs, however as soon as you heard the familiar mix of combative voices, you rolled your eyes and shoved your phone in your pocket. Pushing open the door, you were met with a sight you had become all too accustomed to in the past few months; Matt and Frank at each other’s throats. When they could agree on something and both be level headed, they worked well together. Great, even. But when they disagreed, and were fueled by rage and their own devastating egos, it was like a front row seat to world war three. There were times you’d had to enlist Jessica or Luke just to pry them apart, needing an indestructible wedge between them until they could be civil.

It didn’t take you long to figure out that Frank was the one in need of aid. There was a large tear in his shirt that was normally snug around his bicep, showcasing a jagged view of torn flesh that was dripping violently with crimson. You could make out a few other cuts and bruises that littered his face from the light coming off the obnoxious billboard across the street. It was harder to tell when Matt was hurt, not only because his suit was deep red, but also because he hid it very well. Not that Frank didn’t hide it just as well. They could both be standing in front of you absolutely covered head to toe in blood with visible gashes and holes and still insist that they were fine. There were streaks of blood around Matt’s mouth and nose, but he otherwise appeared to be in good shape. Loudly clearing your throat, you dropped the kit onto the floor by your feet and placed your hands on your hips as both men’s heads whipped around in your direction.

“Can you two pretend to get along for fifteen minutes so I can do what you called me here for, or would you both rather bleed to death on this roof?”

Seven minutes. They made it seven minutes. You had just finished the final stitch on Frank’s arm when a snide comment from Matt had him unraveling in anger all over again. Tonight seemed to be worse than usual. You couldn’t tell if it was due to the pain from their injuries, the exhaustion from the recent sleepless nights, frustration from lead after lead that kept turning into dead ends, a combination of all of the above, or what. They were in each other’s faces, noses barely a centimeter apart, trading insults like verbal punches in an invisible ring. You were shocked Matt had even called you to help patch up Frank with the way his mouth was curled into a glowering snarl towards him, fists bunched tightly at his sides ready to strike at any moment. 

“If you had just fucking listened to me-”

“Because you got it all figured out, don’t ya Red? Huh? You think them fancy fuckin’ senses of yours make you better than me? I was takin’ terrorist organizations down overseas while you were gettin’ shitfaced off cheap booze in your dorm, but heaven forbid I walk into a fuckin’ building without your goddamn say so.”

“Goddammit Frank, I can hear things you can’t. Like when there’s twenty fucking men armed with guns in a building that’s supposed to be-”

“Your priest know you use such colorful language? You tell him that when you’re confessin’ on Sundays? You even tell him ‘bout all the people you beat the shit out of for fun? Or you leave all that out, altar boy?”

“This isn’t a joke, Frank. They were armed with way more ammunition than we planned for, and there were more of them than there should’ve been. They fucking knew we were coming. If you would have just-”

“Nah, nah. If you had fuckin’ listened to me, we would’ve been fine. If you weren’t such a goddamn pussy, and let me do what the fuck I need to do-”

As much as you tried to drown them out, their voices only got louder and louder. Rubbing your temples with your index and middle fingers did absolutely nothing to soothe the dull ache that had begun to throb in your head. God, they were exhausting sometimes. It amazed you how much they changed when they were together. Matt was usually more calm and collected, and Frank was usually quieter. As much as they brought out the best in each other when they did get along, they brought out even more of the worst when they didn’t. It was like they both had a perfect blueprint of where the other’s buttons were, and always knew exactly where to press. That dull ache in your head was beginning to glow like tiny embers waiting to spark. Your fingers had gone numb from the cold through the thin latex gloves. Your patience had run out half an hour ago, or long before that if you were being honest with yourself. You were pissed they had the audacity to drag you out of your warm bed in the middle of the night just to act like you weren’t there, waiting for them to finish their childish bullshit. The irritation had been wearing you down from the second you stepped onto the roof and you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Would you both just shut the fuck up already? Seriously? I am so sick of listening to the two of you bitch and bicker about every little fucking thing. I have fucking had it with both of you. If you two can’t get your shit together, I swear to God, I’m going to-”

“What? What are you gonna do, sweetheart?”

If you weren’t pissed off already, the arrogant smirk tugging at the corner of Frank’s lips certainly pushed you over the edge. He cocked his head to the side, staring at you with his dark eyes squinted in levity. One of his thick brows rose in challenge, daring you to continue your rant. 

“Aw c’mon, darlin’. Thirty seconds ago you were all big and bad, runnin’ that bratty little mouth of yours. Now you got nothin’ to say?”

“Get your shit together, or I will beat your ass.”

“I think she means that, Frank.”

“No shit? She ain’t lyin’?”

“Nope. Heartbeat’s steady.”

“Well ain’t that cute.”

The teasing tone of Matt’s voice hitting your ears felt like gasoline being thrown on the fire that was already raging within you. A devilish grin stretched over his mouth, showcasing the dimples in his cheeks that you loved so much. Normally the sight of that smile would make you weak in the knees, but right now it infuriated the fuck out of you. Both men were staring at you in complete amusement, smug grins plastered on their faces, and you wanted nothing more than to walk over and slap them off. 

“Fuck you both.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Matt’s response knocked the breath right out of your lungs, and all your anger with it. Your eyes widened in disbelief as you stared at him, jaw dropping slightly. He had never spoken to you like that. Matt was a natural flirt, that was just his personality. He had definitely said a few things that made you question how he really felt about you, and there were a few “accidental” touches that lingered a little too long, but never anything like that. And certainly never in the voice he typically reserved for interrogating criminals. You were completely stunned in place, brain failing to come up with any kind of response. Even though Matt’s words were phrased as an inquisition, it came out more like a confident statement, like a rhetorical question he already knew the answer to.

“Well?”

Frank’s voice seemed to break the trance Matt had you under, your eyes darting over towards his large figure. Somehow he was now only standing about a foot away from you. When did he get so close? How had you missed that? You were used to Matt sneaking up on you constantly since the man was practically a fucking ninja, but Frank wasn’t as stealthy. He was a lot bigger, moved with more force than precision, and commanded every space he stepped into. 

“What?”

“You gonna answer him?”

Frank’s eyes bore into yours as he motioned his head towards Matt, the intensity of his gaze making you feel as if you had shrunk several sizes in his presence. Sometimes you forgot just how big he was, and how menacing he could be when he wanted to. There was something gleaming in the darkness of his eyes that you couldn’t place. His features were set in their usual broody state apart from his mouth that was still slightly curved in a wicked smirk. A sudden shiver descended your spine, but it wasn’t from the cold. Instinctively you took a step back, blinking a few times before staring down at your trembling hands as you removed the bloody gloves.

“I don’t…look just…clean yourselves up. Try not to kill each other, or piss off Matt’s neighbors any more than you already have.”

“Your hands are shaking.”

“It’s cold, Matthew.”

“But that’s not why your hands are shaking. Is it?”

Glancing up, a slight gasp flew from your mouth noticing that Matt was now standing right next to Frank. His head was cocked towards the right, chin jutted out in your direction, studying you intently. You couldn’t see the beautiful honey brown of his eyes that were hidden behind the obsidian lenses of his mask. His voice had dropped even lower, and your stomach dropped down into a pit of nerves along with it. A sobering thought washed over you that your beloved captivating lawyer was not the one standing in front of you; the Devil was. This wasn’t exactly new to you. Sometimes Matt had trouble shifting back into a level-headed state after particularly bad nights, or when patrols left his adrenaline pumping through his veins like rocket fluid. You had witnessed the battle on several occasions between Matthew Murdock and the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen for control. But this was…different. He was eerily calm and still, and it made you nervous.

“This ain’t like you, sweetheart. Bein’ all mouthy, actin’ like a damn brat, not answerin’ questions when asked. Where’s our good girl, hm?”

The mega-watt grin that immediately took over Matt’s mouth could have put that blinding billboard behind him to fucking shame.

“Oh, she liked that Frank.”

“Did she?”

“Should’ve heard the way her heart jumped. You are our good girl, aren’t you angel?”

The connection between your brain and your mouth had been severed. You couldn’t speak. You couldn’t hardly breathe. Your wide eyes flickered back and forth in dumbfoundment between the two men standing in front of you. Surely, you were hearing them wrong. Were they messing with you? Where was all this coming from? What the fuck was happening?

“C’mon darlin’, use that pretty little head of yours and talk to us. Red asked you a question, yeah?”

There was a hint of teasing that laced Frank’s gravelly voice as his eyes remained fixated on you. Your head was spinning like a rogue carousel and your heart was thrashing to break through your ribcage.

“I…I don’t understand-”

“I think you do, angel. You’re a smart girl, but you’re not subtle. We know what you want, and we’re more than happy to give it to you. Isn’t that right, Frank?”

“S’right, Red. We think you’ve earned it, sweetheart. Takin’ such good care of us, puttin’ up with all our shit, always there when we need ya. We’d like to return the favor, darlin’.”

“See angel, the one thing Frank and I absolutely agree on, is how pretty you’re gonna sound when we ruin you.”

Matt’s confession struck your core like lightning and tore a startled moan of desperation from your throat. His grin stretched even further across his sinful lips, a dark chuckle emitting from low within his chest. Frank’s eyebrows rose a hair in surprise, only for a moment, before that crooked, teeth baring smile of his was back on full display. He joined Matt in sinister snickering, like there was some kind of inside joke you weren’t a part of.

“Do me a favor, Red. Put them damn senses of yours to good use and tell me how wet she is right now.”

There was never a battle with Frank. There was never anyone else fighting for control. With Frank, what you saw was exactly what you got. There was no slipping back and forth, no struggle, there was just…him. Unabashed, unapologetic, shameless Frank. He didn’t hide it when he flirted with you. He didn’t mince words, or speak in riddles. He always said exactly what he meant so there was never any confusing his words or motives. He never pushed it any further than playful banter and flirty remarks, but he also didn’t hide behind the guise of friendly teasing. The order he gave Matt caused your brain to short circuit and you were honestly surprised it hadn’t knocked you onto your knees. Matt’s lips parted slightly, just enough for his tongue to meet the air as he inhaled deeply. A satisfied hum sounded in the back of his throat.

“Not nearly as wet as she’s going to be. But she smells fucking divine.”

“Bet she tastes even better.”

“I can’t wait to find out.”

The next few minutes passed by in a bit of a blur. Frank had thrown you over his shoulder like you weighed nothing more than the duffel bag he hauled around, carrying you down the steps into Matt’s living room with haste. Matt trailed closely behind the two of you, quickly removing his gloves and helmet somewhere along the way. Before you could even register being put back down on wobbly legs, two large hands grabbed your face and a strong pair of lips met your own. Frank.

The kiss was full of passion but surprisingly tender, a sigh of relief echoing in your mouth from him. Frank kissed you deeply, but slowly, wanting to savor the feeling and the taste of you. Matt managed to sneak his hand between your bodies, tugging at the zipper of your jacket and pulling it off your shoulders with ease. He pulled down the left sleeve of your thin sweater, trailing his lips along the exposed skin before nipping and sucking at the junction above your collarbone. The scruff of his facial hair contrasted roughly with the softness of his lips and it made your mind even hazier, a moan tumbling into Frank’s mouth. Matt growled lowly, gripping onto your hips and pulling your ass against his front abruptly so you could feel how hard he was through his suit, earning another whine from you. His hand was nearly halfway into your jeans when Frank reached out to grab his wrist, halting his movements.

“Quit bein’ fuckin’ impatient. We got all damn night.”

“You hear the sounds she’s making Frank?”

“Yeah, and I’d like to hear a lot more of ‘em you selfish little shit.”

You couldn’t help but giggle. Here you were, trapped between two of the most feared men in Hell’s Kitchen, with both of their mouths and hands all over you, and they were still arguing. Your giggles were immediately cut off however when Matt’s teeth sunk down into the flesh of your neck, a surprised moan taking their place. Frank lightly grasped your chin between his thumb and index finger, tilting your head back against Matt’s chest as he caught your gaze. His tongue darted out to wet his lips quickly, motioning his head towards you.

“You want this, sweetheart?”

All you could do was stare up at Frank with half moon eyes. Your brain seemed incapable of manufacturing a single coherent thought. You were too wrapped up in how good it felt to be caged between them. How good it felt to kiss Frank, to be touched by Matt, to be desired by them both. All you could do was feebly nod.

“Need to hear it, pretty girl. Need you to tell us you want us too.”

Matt’s grip on your waist loosened slightly, his nose nuzzling against your cheek as he softly kissed the underside of your jaw and whispered delicately in your ear.

“You can say no, angel. We can all walk away right now, pretend this never happened. We won’t be upset.”

“We never wanna make you uncomfortable, honey. Just wanna make you feel good.”

“Would you like us to make you feel good, sweetheart? Take care of you for all the times you’ve taken care of us? Whatever you want, we’ll give you. Just tell us what you want.”

“Please…”

Frank’s large hand loosely wrapped around your neck, brushing his thumb along your bottom lip slowly as he stared down at you with a timid smile.

“Please what, sweet girl? Hm? Use your words. You want us? You got us. We’re yours. Just say the words.”

Matt slipped his hand underneath the hem of your sweater, tracing slow delicate circles along your hip as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck. He placed a featherlight kiss to your burning skin, the edge in his voice from earlier now gone as he whispered sweetly.

“We’re all yours, angel. Always have been. Just tell us you want us too.”

Matt and Frank both put an inch of space between their bodies and yours, as if they could sense how difficult their presence was making it hard for you to think clearly. They were giving you an out if you wanted it. You knew this would completely change everything between the three of you. There would be no going back to how things were before. This decision was permanent, and couldn’t be undone. But God, did you want it. You wanted them. You were momentarily suspended in disbelief that they wanted you too, but you were having an arduous time focusing on why they wanted you, when they had come to this agreement regarding you, and what the morning would look like. The only thing your brain could process was the pure, irrevocable yearning you felt.

You trusted Matt and Frank with your life. You knew you could trust them with your body. The safest you ever felt was in their presence. The safest place you could ever be was confined between them. You wanted them. You loved them. You needed to be consumed by them. 

“I need both of you, please.”

If either of them heard the aching in your divulgence, neither of them acknowledged it. Matt’s fingertips brushed lightly along your sides as he pulled your sweater over your head, eliciting a domino of shivers throughout your body. Your own trembling fingers gingerly pushed Frank’s torn and bloodied shirt up, careful to avoid his fresh injuries along the way. As you sought out his lips, his large hands maneuvered your hips until you were face to face with Matt, his nose brushing against the column of your throat.

“Help Red outta that damn thing, would ya? Otherwise we’ll be here all fuckin’ night.”

A furrow formed between Matt’s brows and his lips parted to protest, but his words were quickly cut off when you grabbed his face to crash your lips together. His hands gripped onto your waist just above where Frank’s had settled, a satisfied groan echoing on your tongue. Matt’s kiss was hungrier, more possessive and needy than Frank’s, and it made your head spin. As your fingers worked at the zipper on Matt’s suit, Frank’s were swiftly popping the button on your jeans and tugging your own zipper down. He left a searing trail of open mouthed kisses from right beneath your ear to down along your shoulder as his large hand slipped beneath the waistband of your panties. Greedily peeling the material of Matt’s suit off his broad shoulders, you instinctively bit down on his bottom lip when Frank’s index finger made contact with your clit. Matt moaned at the feeling of your teeth holding his lip captive, shoving the rest of his suit off with impressive speed leaving him only clad in black briefs with a noticeable tent.

“Goddamn, sweetheart. You’ve got these completely soaked through. I guess Red was right.”

You could feel Matt’s prideful smile against your own mouth at Frank’s words as you threaded your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him even more flush against your own body. He groaned again in satisfaction at the gentle tug, and you were suddenly curious what other delicious sounds you could pull out of him. Before you could experiment, Frank slipped one of his thick fingers inside of you and a loud moan filled the empty space.

“Fuck she’s tight. Gonna have to get you nice and ready for us, yeah? Think two oughta do it, Red?”

“She’s been such a good girl, Frank. Let’s give her three.”

“Hm, she has, hasn’t she? S’pose that way we both get a taste then.”

Your head fell back against Frank’s chest as he pumped his finger slowly, already rendering you a whiny incoherent mess. You could just briefly register Matt kneeling before you, grabbing the waistband of your jeans and tugging them down your legs. His touch was lighter when his fingers slipped underneath the sides of your panties, trailing them along your skin with more precise teasing. Matt rubbed his nose along your inner thigh, humming softly as he ever so languidly pulled the fabric down your legs, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. He gently brushed his fingertips over your ankles, along the sides of your calves, up the backs of your knees, until he had a firm grip on your thighs.

“Looks awful pretty down there on his knees for ya, don’t he?”

Frank was right. Matt did look good on his knees before you, head tipped back and eyes closed in content, lips parted slightly as he inhaled your scent from the source. Suddenly you wanted both of them on their knees for you. Or maybe you wanted to be on your knees for both of them. You reached out with a trembling hand to grab a small fistful of Matt’s hair, moaning softly as Frank slipped a second finger inside you.

“Look so pretty, Matty.”

Matt’s eyes fluttered open, staring blankly up in your direction as a toothy grin took over his entire face showcasing your beloved dimples.

“Not as pretty as you, angel.”

“I think Red deserves a little treat for bein’ so patient, don’t you sweetheart?”

“Yes, Frankie.”

“How ‘bout that, Red? You want a little taste?”

“God, yes.”

“On your feet. You take over.”

If you hadn’t been so wrapped up in your own pleasure, you would’ve been amazed at how quickly Matt followed Frank’s command without an ounce of hesitation or complaint. You whined momentarily as Frank’s fingers slipped out of you, only to quickly be replaced with Matt’s index finger and his thumb pressed firmly against your clit earning another loud moan from you. 

“Open your mouth.”

Once again, Matt quickly complied, parting his plump kiss bitten lips. Your walls clenched around Matt’s finger and a pathetic moan slipped out as you watched Frank shove his two fingers drenched in your slick straight into Matt’s mouth. Matt’s eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head when your taste met his tongue, eagerly sucking every single drop off of Frank’s fingers. Frank grunted quietly near your ear as Matt moaned softly around his digits. It was the hottest fucking sight you had ever seen.

“Attaboy, Red. Tell me how she tastes.”

Frank retracted his fingers from Matt’s mouth slowly, leaving his lips shining with a coat of spit. His hand quickly found its place once again between your thighs and there seemed to be some kind of unspoken understanding between the two as Matt twisted his wrist to make room for Frank’s hand, allowing Frank to take over stretching you apart as his own fingers worked over your clit to help bring you to your release.

“So fucking good, Frank. Sweetest fucking thing I’ve ever had. You’re not gonna be able to get enough.”

“Like I said, we got all night.”

You could die like this, trapped between two walls of soft skin and hard muscle, their skilled hands working together to bring you absolute bliss. You were thankful they had you completely trapped between their chests because otherwise, you wouldn’t have been able to stand. The pleasure was absolutely overwhelming. It was everywhere, all at once, and you weren’t sure if you could survive the fall. You had never felt anything like this. You didn’t even know you could feel like this. That little bubble that normally built up inside you was now simmering like a giant pit of lava inside a volcano dangerously close to erupting. You couldn’t even form the words to warn them, but with the undivided attention of Matt’s senses, you didn’t have to. 

“She’s close, Frank. Keep doing that, right there. That’s it…hold her steady. It’s alright, angel. Just let go for us. We’ve got you, sweetheart.”

“Go ahead, darlin’. C’mon, let us hear those pretty sounds. Don’t hold back, honey. Let us have it all, yeah?”

The edge was painfully far away, just within reach. You were so goddamn close. It just felt too fucking good. You didn’t know if your body was holding out because you just couldn’t handle it, or because it wanted more. Just when it felt like you couldn’t make it, suddenly you were exploding into a million little pieces of gratification and being hurled into the free falling space of absolute bliss. Two pairs of strong hands supported you as you spasmed from the force of the pleasure. Two voices echoed praises and sweet nothings into your ears as you floated outside your own body. Two hearts thudded against your back and chest in sync as they adorned you in their affection. 

Rough calloused fingertips trailed along your cheekbone tenderly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as soft lips traced the shell of your ear. 

“Shh. We got ya, sweetheart. We’re right here, yeah? Easy now, breathe.”

Matt wrapped his arm around your lower back, hooking his other underneath your knees as he pried you from Frank’s embrace and lifted you up bridal style, holding you against his chest. 

“You’re wearing too many clothes, Frank. Get undressed. I’ll take her to bed.”

You weakly brought your hand up to Matt’s neck, wrapping your fingers around the cross necklace that settled between his collarbones. The metal felt surprisingly cool against his heated skin, and the deep inhale you took to control your breathing filled your senses with his intoxicating cologne. You carefully traced one of the scars on the left side of his chest with your fingertip as you crossed the threshold into his bedroom.

“Matty?”

“Yes angel?”

“I like it when you and Frankie get along.”

“Tell him to quit bein’ such a shithead all the time, and you’ll get more of it.”

“And here I was about to be nice and let you have the first taste, Castle. Why don’t you get on your knees and put that fucking mouth of yours to good use. Don’t keep her waiting.”

Matt carefully set you down on the edge of the bed, moving to sit right behind you with his chest pressed flush against your back. You noticed the commanding tone he used with Frank was the exact same one he used in the courtroom when he wasn’t in the mood for bullshit or rebuttal. For the millionth time that night, you were shocked when Frank simply grunted in response instead of verbally retaliating, lowering himself down onto his knees in front of you. Your eyes widened slightly at the sight of Frank nearly naked before you. You had seen him shirtless a few times when he needed fixing up, but never only in briefs before. The fabric clung to his muscular thighs like a second skin, and it made your mouth water the exact same way it did whenever you saw Matt only in his underwear. Your brows furrowed slightly at the sudden realization that Frank had done exactly what Matt instructed in the living room. Since when did they ever follow each other’s orders? And so easily?

“Spread those legs, angel. Let him see you.”

Frank moved in closer towards you as you obeyed Matt’s order, his broad shoulders pushing your thighs even further apart. His large hands slowly made their way from your knees to your inner thighs, his thumbs tracing the softest circles along your skin. You had always wondered about Frank and what he would be like intimately. For a guy who could take down thirty men with his bare hands without batting an eye, he was incredibly gentle. His touch was delicate and reassuring, like he was afraid he might break you, but wanted you to know he was there. Matt wrapped his arm around your waist to hold you tightly against his chest, his other brushing your hair off your shoulder as he kissed your neck softly. He was more like what you had expected. Dominant and possessive, like he had something to prove. Whether that was to you or himself, you weren’t sure. Maybe it was both. He wanted you to know you were at his mercy, and that you belonged to him. Well, him and Frank. 

The only exception to all of Matt’s rules seemed to be Frank now that you thought about it. He was willing to ignore his own moral compass and religious teachings in certain situations involving Frank. He came to Frank’s defense constantly, even if he knew he was in the wrong and would personally give him shit about his choices later. He relinquished control earlier in the living room and followed every single one of Frank’s commands, something he would never do with anyone else. Frank seemed to be the only person Matt willingly submitted to. And despite his overprotective nature, he was sharing you with Frank. Matt seemed to be Frank’s own personal outlier as well. Frank always worked alone. He hated involving other people in what he did, not wanting to deal with the risks and consequences, and just another person in general. It was easier when all he had to worry about was himself. But he had no trouble dragging Matt into the flames at a moment's notice, and never hesitated to reach out to him for help or backup. No matter how much they fought, Frank always purposefully put himself between Matt and whatever threat was coming their way, even if it was just some drunk asshole in a bar trying to pick a fight he knew Matt could easily win. As much as they argued, Frank did actually listen to Matt most of the time, and Matt secretly took Frank’s advice when he knew he was right. They were both just too fucking stubborn to admit that to one another.

“Now who looks pretty on their knees, hm?”

“Frankie does.”

“Tell him, angel. Tell him how pretty he looks on his knees for you.”

You reached your shaky hand out to cup Frank’s cheek, sighing softly at the way he nuzzled his face into your palm. His deep brown eyes were hooded with lust as he stared up at you lovingly, causing your heart to constrict in your chest. He really was beautiful, especially when he smiled. It had taken so long for Frank to open up to you, for you to get to see the happier and more carefree side of him, hear him crack jokes and his amazing laugh. It was always like witnessing some cosmic phenomena, and it made you feel incredibly lucky he wanted to share those parts of himself with you.

“Look so pretty, Frankie. So pretty.”

A lazy grin captured Frank’s lips as he looked at you, turning his head slightly to press a gentle kiss to your palm.

“Thank ya, sweetheart. But I gotta agree with Red here. Ain’t nothin’ as pretty as you.”

“Tell me what you see, Frank. Describe her for me.”

Even though it was a demand, there was an echo of desperation in Matt’s voice. Frank’s eyes softened a little more as they flickered behind you to Matt’s face, the smile faltering on his lips, lingering only for a moment before he let his eyes trail over the expanse of your body. The look was so quick, you would’ve missed it if you hadn’t been paying attention. 

“She looks beautiful, Red. So goddamn beautiful. Let me show you.”

Frank spent the next few minutes describing you from head to toe in explicit detail like you were a piece of art on display in Matt’s lap. He gingerly wrapped his hand around Matt’s wrist, directing his fingers along every inch of your body in sync with his own words. Your heart swelled at how gentle Frank was being with Matt, and how much Matt trusted Frank with his own concealed vulnerability to guide him. You weren’t sure if it was your own shuddering breaths or Matt’s that were echoing in your ears at the mix of both men’s hands tracing your skin. Frank’s gruff voice nestled between your thighs as he spoke, as if he was reciting poetry to create a clear picture in Matt’s head. You grabbed onto both of their wrists and squeezed gently, nearly on the verge of tears from how overwhelmed you felt by their shared affection for you and for each other. Matt’s voice was almost hoarse as he spoke quietly.

“Thank you, Frank. Now show her how beautiful she is.” 

For the next hour and a half, Frank and Matt took turns on their knees with their heads buried in your needy cunt. They alternated spots, one pressed up against your back teasing your nipples and fondling your breasts with their mouth latched on your neck as they praised you while the other held your hips hostage against their face with your legs over their shoulders, using their skilled tongue to bring you to euphoria. 

Frank took his time with you, slowly delving his tongue inside you over and over as his large nose continuously bumped against your clit. His grip was firm, but tender, letting you rock your hips against his face as much as you wanted as you tugged him impossibly closer by his dark tresses. He grunted every time you pulled at his grown out hair and the vibrations had your thighs quivering and sent your mind into a frenzy. He drew your orgasm out as long as he could, groaning against your core as he collected every single drop of the ambrosia that he wrung from you. 

Matt tried so hard to take his time with you, but he was so overwhelmed by your scent and his own carnal desire that he couldn’t help himself. He had Frank restrain your hands as he edged you, his grip on your hips almost bruising as he dug his fingertips into your skin. He sucked fervently on your clit, filling the bedroom with obscene slurping sounds as he devoured your pussy. Frank helped hold you in place so Matt could get what he wanted. Every time he could feel you about to come, Matt would slow down and give himself a moment to breathe before diving right back in. He didn’t want it to be over so fast, but he also wasn’t fully able to contain his own selfish need. He would’ve stayed buried between your thighs all night if you let him. 

Eventually Frank couldn’t take your pleading cries of his and Matt’s names anymore and lightly slapped at the back of Matt’s head. When he went to pull away again, Frank grabbed a fistful of Matt’s hair and shoved his face right back into your cunt.

“C’mon Red, listen to her. Let her come. You’ve had your fill, you can come back for more later. She ain’t goin’ nowhere. Let her have it.”

As you descended from your third orgasm of the night, your body felt completely spent. Your eyes felt heavy as you struggled to keep them open, not wanting to miss a second of this spectacle. If this was a one time thing, you wanted every part of it burned into your memory for later, because nothing would ever be as good as this. Frank shifted slightly behind you, and you felt the hardness of his cock brushing against your lower back. A slight gasp left your lips once you realized just how long both of them had been patiently waiting for their own attention. Matt had already been completely hard when he removed his suit, and you had felt the bulge in Frank’s jeans against your ass. A spark of energy jolted you awake as you were suddenly filled with the urge to have your own turn on your knees. 

Frank’s grip tightened on your waist when he felt you move at the exact same time as Matt’s hands clamped down even harder on your thighs.

“Where you goin’, sweetheart?”

“I…what about you and Matty?”

“What about us, angel?”

“I wanna make you feel good too.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout us, honey. Red here is finally gonna make it to heaven when you let him inside that pretty little pussy of yours.”

“And Frank is gonna be so fucking satisfied when he comes inside you, he might not be a complete asshole for an entire week.”

You tried your hardest to wiggle out of their grasps but it was no use. They were a lot stronger than you, and they weren’t budging. You whined as they both chuckled at your pathetic attempt to escape them, seeking out the erect tent in their briefs with your needy hands.

“But I wanna touch…I wanna taste you both, too. Please?”

“This is s’posed to be about you, honey.”

“No, that’s not fair. This is for all of us, not just me. It’s just as much for you and Matty. Isn’t it? Don’t you want my mouth, Frank?”

“Fuckin’ hell sweetheart, course I do.”

“Don’t you Matty?”

“I’d love nothing more than to fuck your mouth, angel. But I’m afraid right now, I’m way too fucking hard, and I wouldn’t be able to last. I don’t want to come unless it’s inside you.”

“I gotta side with Red on this one, darlin’.”

“But-“

Matt’s hand quickly wrapped around the base of your throat as he leaned in to capture your lips, cutting off your protest entirely. He applied just enough pressure to make your head spin, nipping lightly at your bottom lip before soothing the sting with his tongue.

“Next time.”

Your eyes flew open, grabbing onto Matt’s wrist tightly as he loosened his grip on your neck. He was sitting up on his knees now so that you were face to face, a tender smile tugging lightly at the corners of his mouth. Blinking a few times, you turned your head so that you could look up at Frank.

“Next time?”

Frank glanced down at Matt before looking back at you, a shy smile taking over the left side of his mouth. He leaned in to press a soft kiss to your lips, placing his hand at the base of your neck right below where Matt’s was.

“Next time.”

You immediately gave up on your protest and allowed Frank to pull your body up the bed as he moved backwards. You felt giddy with anticipation, your brain going completely haywire as both of their promises rang deafeningly in your ears.

Next time. There was going to be a next time. 

“How you feelin’ honey? Think you can give us one more?”

“Yes…yes anything.”

Matt chuckled lowly at the desperation in your voice as he climbed onto the bed in front of you.

“Such a good girl. Still taking care of us when it’s our turn to care for you. Tell you what, if you help me out of these, you can touch me. But you have to help Frank too. Can you do that for us, angel?”

“Yes, God yes. Please Matty…let me help.”

“Alright sweetheart, go ahead.”

Your nimble fingers dragged Matt’s briefs down his thighs as soon as he finished his sentence, causing you to gasp when his cock finally sprang free and slapped against his stomach. A quiet sigh of relief left his lips. The head was nearly as deep in maroon as his suit and leaking with desire. As you wrapped your hand delicately around the base of his impressive length, a louder declaration of appeasement slipped past Matt’s lips, jaw going slack and hips jolting forward when you swiped your thumb across the sensitive tip. 

“Fuck.”

“Easy darlin’, Red’s sensitive. He’s been waitin’ patiently this whole time like a good boy. Ain’t he? Be good to him.”

Matt let out a quiet whimper, and you weren’t sure if it was from Frank’s words or the way you were gently pumping your hand around his cock but it had your walls fluttering either way. You could tell Matt was doing everything he could to not fuck your hand, bottom lip caught between his teeth so hard blood pooled beneath the skin, hips stuttering ever so slightly in time with your movements. His face was a mix of lingering agony and pure pleasure and it piqued your curiosity about just how sensitive he was.

“Are you okay Matty? Do you want me to stop?”

“I…just-shit…fuck that feels good. I-”

“Make him come, sweetheart.”

“Frank-”

“Don’t be stubborn. You’ll be ready to go again in five minutes and you know it. Stop fuckin’ torturin’ yourself. Go ahead and give him your mouth, darlin’.”

“But that’s not-”

“Would you just shut the hell up? You ever stop talkin’? Consider it a goddamn peace offerin’. I can wait. I’m not as sensitive and overwhelmed as you. Just fuckin’ take what you’re given, shit. You’re gonna come in two minutes anyway.”

“God-fuck…fine. You get to fuck her first, then.”

“Pleasure doin’ business with ya. Sweetheart, be a good girl and do as you’re told. Let Red have your mouth.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. As soon as you parted your lips to take the head of Matt’s cock into your mouth, he was shoving himself down your throat. His hands frantically gripped onto your neck and the back of your head, holding your face in place as he fucked your mouth relentlessly. You opened your mouth as wide as you could and hollowed out your cheeks, wanting to provide him as much pleasure and satisfaction as he had given you. The moans and whines of appreciation that tumbled from his mouth were fucking music to your ears. He looked so beautiful above you, head thrown back in ecstasy and eyes squeezed shut in absolute content. A loud slap cut through Matt’s symphony of fulfillment and his eyes snapped open, slowing the pace of his hips considerably as his brows furrowed in confusion. It took a moment for you to realize that Frank had slapped one of Matt’s hands away from your face.

“Slow down, Matthew. I said use her mouth, not suffocate her. Ease up.”

Your stomach clenched at the hardened warning tone of Frank’s voice. It was also the first time you had ever heard him call Matt by anything other than his nickname for him. Something about it seemed so intimate, and it set your insides ablaze. Matt tipped his head down in your direction, clenching his jaw as he struggled to gain control of himself.

“Fuck…sorry angel, I’m-shit…God just feels so fucking good. Your mouth is so warm…soft. Shit- if this is what your mouth feels like…God-”

You hummed in response, giving his thigh a gentle squeeze and beginning to bob your head to signal for him to keep going. It only took a few more thrusts before warmth coated the back of your throat with a vengeance over and over as Matt finally climaxed. You thanked whatever God was listening that you got to witness the exquisite sight above you of Matt Murdock having an orgasm. It made butterflies erupt in your belly thinking about how soon you’d get to witness the exact same phenomena with Frank Castle.

Matt fell back onto his heels as his chest heaved, panting like he had just ran a fucking marathon. A swell of pride filled your chest as you swallowed every single drop he had offered you, a newfound wave of confidence settling in your veins at the sight of him disheveled before you knowing that you had done that to him. You had brought the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen to his knees and rendered him breathless. And you had no intention of stopping there. 

All night, both of them had been trading control with each other, taking turns in making demands. You weren’t in the mood to trade or take turns. You were in the mood to take. 

As you turned around to face Frank who had a cocky smirk on his lips, you channeled all the power surging through you and shoved roughly at his chest until his back hit the mattress. His body bounced slightly from the impact, the arrogance long gone as his mouth fell open in surprise.

“Take those off.”

“Sweetheart-”

“I said take them off, Frank. Be a good soldier and follow your orders.”

Frank’s jaw hung suspended in disbelief. His eyes widened at your command and his pupils dilated slightly. Shock was written clearly across his features, but he obeyed anyway. The second his briefs were down his thighs, your hand was wrapped firmly around his massive cock and he grunted lowly in response.

“You both asked me what I wanted, didn’t you?”

“Yes but-”

“And I said I wanted to touch, didn't I? That I wanted a taste of my own?”

“But we agreed-”

“I changed my mind. You both got to play. It’s my turn. You’d never deny me, would you, Frankie?”

“Angel, we all agreed-”

“Shut up, Matthew. I wasn’t speaking to you. I asked Frank. Frankie, baby?”

“Fuck, course not.”

A cheshire grin split your lips as you slowly worked Frank over in your hand, reveling in the feeling of his velvet heaviness in your palm. His eyes were trained directly on you, watching your every movement. Besides his lust blown pupils and parted lips, he wasn’t giving anything away. The man had been trained to withstand all kinds of torture with an impeccable poker face, but you weren’t having any of that.

“Good. You’re always so good to me, Frankie. You’ve treated me so well tonight, and I know you wanna keep doing that. Don’t you? You wanna fuck me, don’t you?”

“Yes, sweetheart.”

“Then you’re gonna let me play. I can’t have one of my boys taken care of, and not the other. Matthew gets a pass tonight. He was so worked up for so long, and we know it’s hard for him to keep control sometimes. But you’re very good at control, aren’t you Frankie? You’re gonna let me have what he wouldn’t?”

“Yeah…whatever the hell you want.”

“Good boy. Matthew, sit next to Frank. No touching, just listen. You better be ready to go by the time Frank comes in my mouth. Do you understand?”

“Yes…I understand.”

“That’s my good boy. You’ve both made me so proud tonight. Getting along, taking turns, being so good to me, being so good to each other. When I get done with Frankie, we’re all going to get what we want. I can’t wait to have you both. I’ve wanted both of you for so long. Just be patient a little longer, Matty. Let me take care of Frank. He hasn’t gotten to come yet tonight, and that’s not fair to him. Is it?”

Matt crawled around you towards the headboard, settling back against the pillows next to Frank as he stretched his legs out. His chest was still rising and falling rapidly, tongue darting out to wet his lips as his eyes darted back and forth blankly. His cock was already half hard as he shook his head slowly, lightly fisting at the sheets beside him.

“No…no it isn’t. Let him. He deserves it.”

If you could take a picture with your eyes, you would frame the magnificent sight before you above your fucking bed. Frank and Matt, in all their nude glory, shoulder to shoulder beneath you, mouthwatering cocks standing at full alert waiting for your attention. It was impossible not to be filled with condescension when the two most powerful men in all of New York that could easily tear you apart with their bare hands were willingly submitting to your dictation.

Frank stared you down as you lowered yourself between his massive thighs, wrapping your lips around the swollen head of his cock to take into your mouth. He sucked in a deep breath, thighs tensing beside your head as you took him deeper. He was bigger than Matt, which was to be expected due to his stature, but you were determined to fit as much of him into your mouth as you could. You took your time at first, swirling your tongue around the tip slowly before sliding him back down against your tongue. You marveled at the shuddering breaths released from his mouth, but you wanted more.

“Don’t be shy, Frankie. I wanna hear your pretty sounds too.”

It hadn’t taken much to figure out Matt was the more vocal of the two, but you were adamant about breaking Frank’s composure. A quiet grunt sounded from him as you squeezed your hand around the section of him that wouldn’t quite fit in your mouth.

“Tell her how it feels, Frank.”

Matt sounded almost breathless as he spoke, and his eyes were wild with hunger as you glanced over at him.

“Feels good, sweetheart. Feels real damn good.”

“C’mon Frank, you can do better than that. It’s just us. Let it out like I know you can.”

Matt’s words had a fresh wave of arousal slicking your inner thighs. You had so many fucking questions for them. There was clearly something here you were missing. Something they were keeping from you, and you desperately wanted to know everything. Frank’s eyes never left yours, and they were growing darker by the second as if something was brewing behind them. It made your stomach twist with anticipation. You flattened your tongue against the slit on his tip, sucking fervently on the head as your hand twisted around the rest of him. Frank groaned loudly as he weaved his fingers through your hair, giving it a gentle tug.

“There you go. You can pull harder, she likes that. Don’t you angel?”

You moaned in response around Frank’s cock, causing him to let out a heavy grunt as he pulled roughly at your roots. His hips had started to shift upwards in rhythm with your movements, and you’d let him do whatever he wanted as long as he kept making sounds like that.

“Goddamn. You know how to use that mouth, yeah? Shit-no wonder he came so fast.”

“Just think about how good the rest of her is gonna feel. How pretty does she look right now?”

“So fuckin’ pretty. Fuck…wish you could see her. Looks so goddamn good with those pretty lips wrapped ‘round our cocks. Wish we could trade eyes for a minute.”

Only Frank Castle and Matt Murdock were capable of saying such filthy words that also simultaneously warmed your heart. Matt’s lips curved upwards in a delicate smile composed of pure admiration, and it made you melt. You reached your hand out that wasn’t working on Frank to grab onto one of Matt’s, lacing your fingers together and squeezing gently. Frank choked out a moan of surprise when you suddenly took him as deep as you could, feeling his tip brush against the back of your throat and holding him there for a minute until you had to come up for air.

“Fuckin’-shit…do that again. Fuck please…please sweetheart.”

Bracing your palm against Frank’s thigh, you took him once again as deep into your throat as you could, forcing yourself to breathe through your nose. A cry of your name tore through Frank’s chest as he gripped roughly onto your hair, and all at once a steady stream of heat coated the back of your throat. Frank bucked his hips slightly as you swallowed around him, squeezing Matt’s hand tightly as Frank released himself from your mouth.

“Fuck, I want next.”

“Jesus Christ you insatiable bastard, you already had your goddamn turn.”

Matt threw his head back against one of the pillows as he burst into a howl of laughter, bracing his palm against his chest.

“That was before I knew she could do that.”

“Well if you hadn’t been so fuckin’-”

“Boys, please. We’re not finished here.”

“I need a minute, darlin’. Think you just sucked the fuckin’ soul outta me, Jesus.”

Matt absolutely lost it, doubling over in a fit of laughter as your cheeks flamed with heat at Frank’s words. You couldn’t help but giggle, trying to cover your mouth as Frank shot you an insincere glare coupled with a coveted smirk. You hadn’t even noticed Matt had moved behind you until you felt his hands on your waist and the warmth of his breath on your neck.

“Alright, sweet girl. How about you and I start, hm? I bet Frank will be ready to go once he hears those pretty noises of yours. Besides, he likes to watch.”

A sudden gasp flew from your mouth as Matt guided you to straddle Frank’s hips, wondering how the hell he possibly knew that about Frank. God you were reeling with questions.

“I thought he was fucking me first?”

“That was before he got to come. He’s not left out anymore, is he?”

“I…no.”

“Castle?”

“Go ahead. Be with ya in a minute, sweetheart.”

Frank shot you a wink that would’ve made you fall to your knees had you not already been on them. Matt placed his palm on your lower back, pushing gently so that you were bent over Frank slightly. Frank grabbed onto your hip with one hand, his other coming up to brush his thumb along your cheekbone slowly as he stared up into your eyes. The tenderness and desire in them was so dizzying, it was almost overwhelming. You gripped onto Frank’s shoulders as Matt carefully pushed the blunt head of his cock past your folds, gasping sharply at the slight burn of the stretch.

“Shh…I’ve got you. Just relax for me, sweetheart.”

Matt’s lips brushed delicately along the shell of your ear, and you took a deep breath to steady yourself. A slow moan cascaded from your mouth as he sank his entire length into you, his hand gripping tightly onto your other hip. Matt rested his forehead against your back for a moment once his hips were flush against your ass, an incredulous moan emitting from him.

“Breathe, honey. He’s gonna take care of you, yeah? Ain’t gonna hurt you.”

Frank grunted quietly as you dug your nails into his shoulders, leaving crescent shaped indentations as Matt fucked you slowly from behind. Matt had brought his other hand up to loosely wrap around your throat, pressing his front firmly to your back so there wasn’t even a centimeter of space between you. Matt growled in your ear and it had you clenching around him tightly. 

“Fuck sweetheart…feels even fucking better than I ever imagined. So warm…so tight. Take me so fucking well, angel. So fucking well.”

“Matty…”

“You can take Frank too, can’t you?”

Your eyes flew open and you stared down at Frank almost in panic. Matt made you feel so deliciously full. You could feel every ridge and vein as his cock dragged along your walls. You stared down into Frank’s eyes anxiously, all your confidence from earlier seemingly evaporating from your pores. Frank smiled softly up at you, leaning in to brush his lips against yours.

“S’okay if you can’t honey. If it’s too much, s’alright.”

Could you handle them both? The thought seemed ridiculous. Your body was designed to push out a small human, of course you could. But you were nervous. Your cunt had a vice grip on Matt, and Frank was bigger. It would burn, but God it would feel so good once that sting went away. You couldn’t imagine having one without the other. Not anymore. You wanted them both.

“Please Frank…I-I can. I can.”

Matt pressed his cheek against yours as his hand tightened slightly around your neck, digging his fingers a little harder into your hip.

“That’s our girl.”

Frank searched your eyes for any hesitation. He pushed your legs further apart with one of his knees, grabbing the base of his cock and rubbing the head against your clit a few times. Your body jolted forward at the sensation and Matt groaned loudly in your ear. 

“Gonna have to move her a bit.”

“Here.”

Matt pressed his hand against your back until you were laying flat against Frank’s chest, putting his knees on either side of Frank’s. He grabbed onto your hips firmly, raising them a bit so that your back was arched slightly and your ass was pressed against his lower abdomen. Frank gripped onto your waist, pressing his forehead against yours as he positioned himself beneath you.

“Deep breath, sweetheart.”

As Frank pushed the head of his cock through your folds to join Matt, your mouth dropped completely open. Matt stilled behind you as Frank eased his entire length into you inch by spectacular inch. Your mouth still hung open, but you couldn’t make a sound. Your eyes nearly rolled into the back of your head, and you had to squeeze them shut as you tried to remember how to breathe. A burning sensation seared between your thighs as they both stretched you apart from the inside. It felt like they were fucking splitting you in half. It was almost too much. Matt’s fingers loosened around your throat and his deep voice echoed in your ears.

“Breathe, angel. Let us know when we can move. Take your time.”

You sucked in a gasp of oxygen like you had just emerged from the pits of the ocean. They were everywhere. You could hardly tell where one of you ended and the other began. Frank leaned in to kiss you softly, cradling your face in his large hand. Matt once again slipped his hand between you and Frank, carefully tracing circles over your clit to combat the pain with pleasure. You had never felt so full. So content. So loved.

One of your hands reached behind you to grab onto Matt’s neck as your other gripped onto Frank’s shoulder. You experimentally tried rocking your hips, crying out from the sting of the stretch and the jolts of pleasure that followed.

“God…please…please…”

Matt and Frank started to move their hips in tandem slowly, keeping an intricate pace as you adjusted to having both of them inside you. It was unlike anything you had ever felt before. You slowly felt your muscles begin to relax as the tension dissipated, your body feeling looser as pleasure began to overtake the pain. 

“How’s that feel, sweetheart?��

“So fucking good, Frankie.”

Frank’s lips stretched into a proud grin as he brushed his nose against yours, holding your face in his large hand.

“Knew you could, honey. Didn’t we?”

“We knew you’d take us so well, angel.”

Matt pulled back slightly as he felt you getting more comfortable, and your body accommodating them both more easily. He situated himself on his knees behind you, gripping onto your waist tightly.

“Now, ride him while I fuck you.”

Without warning, Matt started snapping his hips against your ass as he drilled into you from behind. A strangled moan of surprise bellowed from your chest, and Frank reached out to grip your waist to hold you steady. You braced your palms flat against his broad chest, whining loudly as Matt pistoned relentlessly inside you. His hand came down hard against your ass and he growled in your ear.

“I said ride him.”

“You heard him. C’mon sweetheart, take what’s yours. Make yourself come on my cock. Show us what a good girl you can be.”

You had half expected Frank to come to your defense like he had throughout the night, but it was like you were back on the roof. Frank was backing Matt, and you had an overwhelming desire to please them both. Gripping onto his shoulders, you began to rock your hips back and forth against his quickly, struggling to find your rhythm with the way Matt was fucking you roughly.

“Matty…please…”

“Move with me, angel. You can do it. Come on, make us proud.”

Frank held onto your waist with one hand and folded his other arm behind his head, staring up at you with the biggest grin on his lips. He was barely moving his hips, letting you do whatever you wanted above him. Matt was right. He did like to watch. He had been letting you and Matt take control for the most part, and right now all you wanted him to do was lose it.

“Please Frankie…please fuck me. Please fuck me like Matty…please…I need your help. Can you fuck me like him?”

Frank’s eyes darkened considerably at your words, and you could hear Matt snickering darkly behind you. Maybe you were wrong about Matt and Frank. Maybe Matt was the one that didn’t hide what he was. Maybe Frank was. Matt hadn’t held back once this entire night, but Frank certainly had. Maybe you didn’t know Frank as well as you thought you did. Maybe there was a part of himself he was concealing. Whatever it was, Matt clearly knew what you were in for better than you did.

“Come on, Frank. She wants to play with the Devil and the Punisher. Let her have it. She’s a big girl, she can handle it. We said we’d ruin her, so help me ruin her.”

Your heart pounded so quickly in your chest you thought it was gonna give out. Frank wasn’t smiling, he was smirking. But it wasn’t the crooked mischievous one you had come to love. No…this one was sinister, and it sent a shiver down your spine.

“Alright, sweetheart. You asked for it. And whatever you want, you get.”

Frank gripped roughly onto your waist to lift your hips before he began to snap his own upwards against yours at an almost inhuman pace. A scream flew from your mouth as he fucked up into you roughly in perfect harmony with Matt who was repeatedly railing into your from behind. You couldn’t form words. The sounds coming from you were downright pornographic and salacious and barely coherent. You grabbed onto his forearms for support and dug your nails so deep into his skin you were shocked you hadn't drawn blood. All you could do was hang on as Frank and Matt did exactly what they promised; they absolutely fucking wrecked you.

The grunts and moans coming from both of them were feral and almost animalistic, tearing from the most primal depths of their chests. They were both gripping and kneading at your flesh with such ferocity, like they couldn’t feel enough of you. You were eager to see the marks they had left tomorrow morning. Frank repeated over and over how good you were, showering you in praise that starkly contrasted with the way he was fucking you. Matt’s fingers never once left your throat, occasionally applying just enough pressure to make you lightheaded. He poured indecent and filthy words into your ear about how perfect you fit around his cock and how badly he wanted you to come so he could fuck you all over again.

It was beginning to be too much. You couldn’t even hold yourself up on your knees anymore. The only reason you hadn’t collapsed was because Frank still had you suspended above him. 

“You gonna come for us, sweetheart?”

“Yeah she is. Any minute now…right angel?”

You couldn’t speak. Couldn’t even nod. All you could do was hang on and fall further and further into Matt Murdock and Frank Castle. Matt chuckled lowly as he pulled your head back against his chest by your neck, brushing his nose along your cheekbone as he inhaled your scent.

“Think we’re fucking her too good, Frank. She can’t even talk.”

“Goddamn if you could see how she looks right now, Red. S’alright pretty girl, we got ya. Go on and make a fuckin’ mess on us. Don’t you dare hold back, yeah?”

“Hold her steady like that Frank. I got her.”

The second Matt’s finger made contact with your clit, you combusted. Your pussy clenched so hard around both of them that it almost hurt. A blinding supernova exploded behind your eyelids and your body suddenly became a live wire, convulsing with every tiny spark of touch. Your lungs burned as you struggled to breathe and all at once you felt like you were floating and made of lead. The distant echo of Matt loudly moaning out your name and Frank howling deeply for you rang in your ears. Your heart fluttered at the thought of your insides being turned into a breathtaking mosaic as the two men you loved most in this world painted you with the most intimate parts of themselves. 

There was an irrefutable peace that settled in your bones once your body stopped shuddering. It felt like you were floating in the middle of the ocean. All the noises around you were jumbled, like your head was underwater. You could just barely make out two voices calling your name. The midnight sky above you was suddenly flashing neon purple and blue, and the twinkling constellations drifting around in front of you morphed into two sets of eyes swirling with deep hazel and dark cocoa. 

“There she is. Had us worried there for a bit, sweetheart.”

Frank’s voice was clear in your ears now. As you blinked the haziness away, both him and Matt finally came back into view. The light from the billboard outside Matt’s apartment was projecting a kaleidoscope of violet and cobalt on the ceiling. You had no idea how long you had been incoherent, but the expression on both of their faces and Frank’s words had you blushing profusely. 

“Hi.”

Your voice was hoarse as you spoke. It didn’t even sound like it belonged to you. Both of them exchanged a knowing glance, Matt’s mouth splitting into a wide dimple showcasing grin as he chuckled.

“Hi pretty girl.”

“You alright? Was that too much?”

“I’m amazing. That was…perfect.”

”Hell, I think we can all agree on that. We were worried you weren’t comin’ back to us for a minute there though.”

“I’d never leave you two. I’ll always come back. Promise.”

“Frank, could you grab her a glass of water?”

“Sure thing, Red.”

A tender smile spread across your lips at the way Frank squeezed Matt’s shoulder before making his way out of the bedroom. Matt tilted his head in your direction, eyes fixated almost on yours as he smiled in response. His hand came out to gently cup your face, brushing his thumb lightly along your cheekbone. 

“Where did you go?”

“What?”

“We did lose you there for a few minutes. We kept saying your name, but you were somewhere else. Where did you go?”

“The stars. Another universe, I think.”

Matt laughed out loud as his grin stretched even further over his mouth, moving to lay beside you as he propped his head up on his other hand.

“We missed you.”

“I found my way back as soon as I could.”

This was the most at peace you thought you had ever seen Matt Murdock look. His hair was disheveled and out of place and his cheeks were lightly twinged pink, but the smile that graced his mouth was absolutely blinding. He looked…happy. Genuinely happy. You couldn’t help but surge forward and capture his lips in a deep kiss. You could feel his smile against your mouth and the warmth of his skin as his hand settled on your waist. 

“Round 2 already? Shouldn’t we wait for Frank?”

“I love you, Matty.”

Matt’s smile faltered only for a second, his eyes widening at your confession. His lips parted as if to speak, but nothing came out. The bed dipped behind you, and you turned your head to see Frank’s gaze shifting between you and Matt. 

“I think you broke him. What’d I miss?”

“I love you, Frankie.”

Frank stilled momentarily, swallowing thickly as he brought the glass of water to your lips and placed his hand on the back of your neck as you gulped generously. 

“Sweetheart-“

“Wait…just, let me speak. I mean it. I love both of you. I think I always have I just…if this is a one time thing, that’s okay. I just wanted you both to know. Tonight meant the world to me. I’ve never felt so…happy. No one’s ever treated me so well as you two have and…I really do love when you two get along. I hope that’s not part of this “one time deal” thing. So, Matt Murdock…Frank Castle…I love you. Both of you. If tomorrow morning you both decide you want to act like this never happened-“

“The hell you talkin’ about? Didn’t we say there’d be a next time?”

“Well…yeah but that was-“

“Angel, this isn’t a one time thing. I don’t know about Frank, but I can’t go back to before. Not after I’ve finally had you. It's not a one time thing for me.”

“It ain’t for me either.”

Silence hung heavy in the air after the weight of your confession settled. You suddenly felt self conscious about what you had just admitted, and the urge to run away had your fingers twitching at your sides. Matt tenderly wrapped his hand around your wrist, a gentle smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he stared in your direction.

“I love you, angel.”

Frank slipped into bed beside you, draping his arm lazily over your waist as he brushed his nose along your jawline and pressed a soft kiss to the edge of your mouth. 

“And I love you, sweetheart.”

Your eyes darted frantically between the two of them, still trying to wrap your head around all of the events that had transpired tonight. 

“So…what now?”

“I don’t know ‘bout you two, but I’m fuckin’ exhausted. I say we get some sleep.”

“Frank’s right. It’s been a long night. Let’s get some rest. We can talk in the morning.”

“I’m sorry…did you just…say Frank was right?”

“Don’t start. I’m too tired to put you in your place, and I don’t think you can handle any more than what we’ve already given you.” 

Matt’s tone submissed you into complete silence. Frank chuckled lowly beside you, and you caught his smirk as you met his gaze. He gave a light shrug of his shoulders as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“He may be tired but he ain’t bluffin’. If there’s anything he can do better than take a beatin’ it’s give one. I suggest you behave, sweetheart.”

You closed your eyes for a second as you pressed your thighs together, and Matt groaned loudly beside you. Frank laughed as he pulled the covers over the three of you, snuggling close into your backside as Matt pulled your leg over his waist to get you as close as possible to his chest. For several minutes, you all laid there in comfortable silence, enjoying the feeling of Matt and Frank’s warmth against your skin and the sound of their steady breathing with a promise of more bliss tomorrow. 

“Goddamn, you weren’t kiddin’ about that fuckin’ billboard. You ain’t ever thought to get some curtains?”

“Why would I have a use for curtains, Frank?”

A loud laugh escaped your mouth at Matt’s deadpan before you had a chance to stop it, and Frank’s hand suddenly clamped over your mouth.

“Obviously they ain’t for you, shithead. What about us?”

“Fine. We’ll look at curtains tomorrow. Happy?”

“Fuckin’ peachy.”

Thirty seconds. You had thirty seconds of more comfortable silence before they were back at it.

“You’re fucking joking, right? I mean you can sleep through bullets and explosions and the desert sun, but a billboard is where you draw the line?” 

“It’s right there in the goddamn window, Matthew. For fucks sake, you got a fuckin’ rave goin’ on right now. It might not bother you-“

“Well obviously it can’t bother me Frank-“

“Boys, please. Frankie, you’ve literally slept in far worse conditions. Matty…it is a bit much. We can deal with it tomorrow. Can we please go back to you two being nice to each other and cuddling?” Both of them grunted halfheartedly in response, but it made you smile nonetheless. Because they were your boys. Yours. And no matter how much they drove you, and each other, absolutely crazy, it was all out of love. You loved them. They loved you. Nothing else really mattered.

[luciferfemme]

Alastor's face when he spills the tea on Susan.

there is no heterosexual explanation for this SIR

which is fair your husband would be very amused.

Alastor: ...ornery old bitch?

Angel: oooh He's spilling the TEA!!!

[illarian-rambling]

It's finished! My beautiful baby of a short story!

New wip: Rel's Haunting

Word count: ~16,000

Elevator pitch: A newly made angel falls to earth when their god is murdered. Narrated by the snarky ghost of said god, the kind-hearted but painfully innocent angel must navigate such trials as markets and basement concerts with the aid of the ornery woman who scraped them out of the dirt

Themes: Parenting. I didn't go into this thinking it'd be about parenting, but oh god is it ever

Content warnings: Some descriptions of injuries, but nothing too graphic. Religious themes, but it's fantasy religion

If you'd like to give it a read, here's a link to the doc :)

Have a bitchin day!

@amandacanwrite @elsie-writes @riveriafalll @kosmic-kore @kaylinalexanderbooks

@bard-coded @carrotsinnovember @patternwelded-quill @somethingclevermahogony @whatwewrotepodcast

@the-angriest-author @mk-writes-stuff @frostedlemonwriter @vyuntspakhkite-l-darling @watermeezer

@leahnardo-da-veggie @mr-orion @televisionjester @ray-writes-n-shit @evilgabe29

@trippingpossum @fortunatetragedy @halfbakedspuds @ominous-feychild @cain-e-brookman

[sunsetcougar]

Had a fun idea for Cannibal Angel au, Rosie tells/threatens Alastor that if her little girl and her girlfriend are hurt in his schemes she promises something far worse than death. You see Susan isn't the only ornery Cannibal in town and Susan love Vaggie like a granddaughter so if Vaggie ends up hurt Susan's entite bookclub will hunt him down till the end of hell

Oh Alastor receives many firm warnings against messing with Vaggie or Charlie. It irks him quite a bit that half his plans have been ruined so effectively.

Susan grabs him by the antler at one point at makes her own threats, backed by the agreeing grumbles and nods of her book club.

Over all Alastor decides its not worth it to even try with his schemes because as close as he is to Rosie, he knows she won’t be kind if he hurts her like that, and she won’t stop her people from going after him either.

[sleepyfan-blog]

Ritual Combat

Author's Note: This is the next fic in the Bully(ing) Cato Sicarius series! first. Prev. Next.

tagged: @egrets-not-regrets @the-pure-angel @whorety-k @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

warnings: canon-typical violence, mild body horror, Cato Sicarius Being Himself

summary: Cato is your chosen champion at the close of negotiations with a particularly ornery sect of the Adeptus Mechanicus.

“The honorable Magos says that they will only fully agree to the terms and conditions of rejoining the greater Imperium of Man if your chosen battle champion defeats twelve chosen warriors who defend the Uvranis system and their six sister systems in one on one combat. The Magos asks that you name your champion and have them step forth.” The translation servo skull announced, after having listened to the rapid series of beeps, clicks and chirps that issued from the ruling mangos of Ahhk-kilx, the center forge world of the Uvranis sector.

You had been leading negotiations with them for the past ten days. Ten long, exhausting, irritating days, which had culminated in this. While the Imperial Regent could use the many ships and weapons he had brought to bear to force this seven-system group of martian magos into compliance, the cost would be bloody - and as they were one of the more influential groups in this sector… The potential cascading effects if they did not come peacefully into the fold of the Imperium of Man would likely cause rebellious echoes for decades if not centuries to come.

Titus and Cato were at your back, acting as bodyguards. Both of them had shifted a little at the mention of a martial test. One one hand, Titus had more varied combat experience and had a couple of centuries longer… But Cato is currently captain of the second company of Ultramarines. Your gaze flickers up to where both of them are standing in full armor. 

Cato already has a hand on his family’s ancient and well-known sword hilt, his helmeted gaze focused on the group of martian cultists. Meanswhile, Titus has a hand near the grip of his bolter, and appears to be scanning the nearby flat, raised ground that is where the combat is likely to begin. Either one of them would be an excellent choice to be the champion…

Ah, but one of Cato’s titles is knight champion of Maccrage. Titus may sulk a little at not being chosen, but you will be sure to make it up to him privately - as well as congratulate Cato on his likely spectacular (and winning) battle performances once everything was over and they hopefully signed the treaty with no further fanfare. Still, you would also not be surprised if the cultists tried to pull some nonsense on you and the retinue you were part of, as they had proven to be stubborn bastards. 

“I name Captain Cato Sicarius of the Ultramarines as the champion for the Imperium in these battles, with Lieutenant Titus of the Ultramarines as his second.” You state clearly and confidently. In the unlikely event that Cato got injured to the point of needing to switch out, Titus was likely to sweep the rest of whoever was sent to face him. Both of them had long and illustrious careers as Ultramarines. 

“The honorable magos accepts your choice of champions. May the better warrior be victorious.” The translation servo skull announced.

~

Cato was brought to the large, raised platform where the ritualized combats were to happen in. The ground was made out of a non-reflective metal, with sections being partially hollow beneath the platform, from the way the sound of his boots echoed back to him. He internally sneered at the fact that the machine-worshippers were throwing one last bit of bureaucratic nonsense at you in an attempt to peacefully resist returning to the Imperium of Man. They were keenly aware of the firepower of Maccrage's Honor alone being able to Exterminatus all of the living worlds in this system without much issue... But his Lord Father had decreed that a light and careful hand be used to gently guide these fools back into the Imperium, so he had sent you to use that silvery tongue of yours to weave a sturdy treaty to drag them into full compliance. 

There were ten metal plates on each side of the raised platform, with each of them a ten foot by ten-foot square. Each of the plates were flush with one another, but Cato felt several of them shift and rub against one another minutely under his weight - he wouldn't be surprised if some of these plates could raise and lower to change the terrain of the combat arena... He also wouldn't be surprised if these tin-fuckers would release smaller enemies to make a mess of the arena, to draw the fire and attention of the challenger in order to tip the odds in their favor. Was it cheating? Yes. But it wasn't against the stated rules and the cults of the machine god could be devious motherless bastards when it suited them. He stopped when he was near the middle of the combat arena, unsheathing his sword and waited silently for his first opponent to arrive. 

Two of the metal plates fifteen feet away from him lower abruptly for several seconds, before raising upwards, revealing a single Kataphron Battle Destroyer class Servitor. It was equipped with the standard Kataphron Demiplate - one of it's weakpoints being that the weapons it used would cause the mass of metal and meat to overheat dangerously if certain parts of the inner-workings of the machine weren't exposed to both off-vent the heat and to aid in the speed of changing out the damaged cables. The metallic motherfucker was also equipped with a Cognis Flamer - and from the way that the bright-blue white flames issuing forth from it's nozzle directed at where Cato had been standing moments before, it's machine spirit was particularly cantankerous.

Cato dodged to the left, easily evading the burst of bright blue-white flames that could have scorched the paintjob of his armor if they had hit, swiftly moving around the large, but slow-moving servitor and activating the energy field with a subtle tap of the activation rune on the pommel of the blade and slicing the lumbering mechanical weapon neatly in half from one of it's armored pauldrons, to it's opposite rolling tank-like tread. If this was the best that this seven-system mechanicum had to bring to bear against the might of the Imperium, they were hardly worth the effort to acquire them. "Next." He called out, stepping back as the servitor was lowered out of sight. 

The captain of the second company of Ultramarines was presented with five different variations of single skitarii warriors; Two vanguards, a ranger, an infiltrator - that one gave him a little bit of trouble as the skittery bastard was quick on it's feet and required an entire ten seconds of chasing before he'd drawn his bolter and shot it in the chest out of frustration, a rust stalker. Each of them were disabled with a single strike of his blade or shot with his bolter. Despite his growing boredom, Cato knew that there was a good chance that the metal bastards were trying to lull him into a false sense of security before trying to trip him up with a much more dangerous opponent.

His caution was rewarded when the next opponent brought before him was an Ironstrider Ballistari - and the fucker was already attempting to snipe him from where the mechanicum had placed it - as far as possible from where Cato was standing that was still within the limits of the combat grounds. He saw the azure glow of the sniper-site on his breastplate and counted to four in his head before throwing himself to the side, tucking into a combat roll, towards his opponent.

There was a crack and a sizzling sound as the lazer shot flew over him, burying itself in one of the metal plates. He popped up at the point he had rolled, steadying his aim for a one-two heartsbeats before shooting out one of the leg joints of the ironstrider that the Skitarii sniper was sat astride. 

The ironstrider moved to evade, but Cato had anticipated that, zig-zagging his way closer to the mechanical mount and it's rider unpredictably in order to evade more sniper fire, cutting through both the sniper and the mount with a devastating two-handed, over-head strike. 

He rolled his shoulders a little, a small grin hidden behind his helmet. That was almost an actual challenge. Perhaps these metal loving cultists actually did have some teeth to them worth noting? 

Cato internally rolled his eyes as three Secutarii Peltasts were sent to be damaged severely by his blade and blaster. They were excellent mortal troops, yes... When in phalanxes. or even squads. But a single Peltast against a space marine officer? Ah, he had to actively suppress his desire to laugh at them, as it would probably insult the machine-worshippers. He was back to being close to bored, though he knew better than to lower his guard. 

He had three opponents left before this little test of theirs was concluded, whereupon they would either capitulate and become part of the imperium, or they would resist and be ground beneath the bootheel of the Imperium's foremost warriors. Either way, this farce would be over soon, and he relished the chance to be able to scoop you up and enjoy the spoils of victory that you would lavish upon him. 

His tenth opponent was a Sydonian Dragoon, armed with a long taser lance and sat astride an Ironstrider, placed in front of Cato on the far side of the arena from where he had ended up after decapitating his previous opponent. Incense billowed around the Dragoon and its' engine-mount for several moments. 

Cato could hear the crackling electricity as it danced up and down the long, deadly lance that was leveled in his direction as the Dragoon clapped its' heels against the metal beast of burden it was sat astride, urging it into a full galloping charge. 

The second captain of the ultramarines stood his ground as the skitauri bore down on him, waiting until the last possible moment to take two steps to the side, swinging his family's ancestral blade and cutting the legs out from under the ironstrider as it charged passed him.

The sudden difference in momentum as the ironstrider suddenly halted, unable to move further from it's rider caused the dragoon to be flung clear out of the battle arena, crashing to the ground several feet away. That alone would have disqualified it from continuing as a contestant, but just to prove himself a superior warrior to those watching, he had aimed his bolter and shot the dragoon's head off just before it sailed out of bounds through the air, just to further prove who was the better fighter of the two of them. Not that it had ever been in question, of course. 

Ten opponents down, two to go. Cato returned to his starting position near the middle of the arena and waited for his next opponent to come. He was more irritated and bored than anything. None of these opponents had even come close to so much as scratching his armor, much less being an actual threat to him. Then again, as far as Father's scouts had been able to tell, this mini-empire of the Cult Mechanicus had little to no contact with any chapters of the Adeptus Astartes for decades at a time, and thus likely did not remember what Astartes were truly capable of. 

Cato blinked in surprise as a bronze skull-masked, bulky Skitauri clad in a long, covering, hooded red robe, and wielding a large repeating weapon on its back. Its pattern design dated back to the days of the Heresy, if not even older. He was unfamiliar with this precise kind of Skitauri, but the large yellow box on its chest was likely a weak point of some kind. He was familiar with the rotary weapon it was wielding - which used physical rounds, rather than lazer, flame or radiation based weaponry. 

The ancient Skitauri type opened fire, the ratatat of its repeating shells ringing loudly in Cato's enhanced ears. He ducked and wove around the hails of bullets, chasing and chivvying the skitauri into a corner, shooting the large yellow box in the center of its chest.

It staggered back, its armor clicking as its mechanical arms and mechadendrites waved frantically, trying to make emergency repairs.

More fool it, as Cato charged into melee range, bifurcating the ancient skitauri with one elegant swing of his sword. In truth, he probably could have ended this fight with two, maybe three bolter shots, but the point of this was to get the mechanical maniacs to realize just how badly outclassed, out-gunned and underpowered they were, and how important it was for their continued well-being to peacefully capitulate and sign the damned treaty you'd worked with them for a full tenday on. 

Cato was too well disciplined to give into the urge to rock back on his heels, or tap a foot impatiently with his arms crossed over his chest as he waited for his final opponent to arrive. Not only would it show just how little he respected these blithering mechanical fools, crossing his arms would lower his combat effectiveness for a couple of seconds, which may be a problem if they somehow managed to dig up an opponent who might actually pose something close to an actual threat to an Astartes of his caliber. The likelihood of thi- 

His eyes narrowed inside his helmet as a familiar and dangerous scent hit his nose. It was the sickly earthy-sweet scent of rot, mixed with the dark putrid odor that clung to the chaos infested. Whatever was going to be revealed was truly dangerous and he accessed the officers' vox-line "I can smell the stink of chaos on this world. I do not know how widespread it is, but my final battle-ritual opponent stinks of it, and I have yet to see whatever twisted abomination they are going to bring to try and kill me with. Titus, get our lady and the rest of the Imperial negotiation team out of here - unless you have other orders, father?" He could see that the Imperial Regent was listening in on the vox comm, and was content to defer to his judgment - but was reminding Titus and the other ultramarines on planet of standard procedure when it came to handling a potential chaos infection. 

"Evacuate our people. Do you have any idea as to which of the powers of chaos we are dealing with?" Father asked, a trace of concern in his voice.

"From the stink of it, I would suspect the lord of decay, sir. But I have not seen any of the usual signs among the machine-worshippers of the rotten defiler's brand of impurity until now." Cato answered as a large, bloated mass of machine and metal was revealed to him.

It was the remains of all eleven of his previous opponents mashed together without care or sense. In the center of it's chest area, was a symbol that hurt to look at directly, so Cato shifted his gaze to avoid the black circle with eight jagged arrows pointing out from the center of it. All sense of levity or boredom had immediately left the space marine captain. He kept it at a distance, evading the sniper fire and roaring flames, returning fire with his bolter, knowing well that to get into melee range with a Nurglite entity was to court soul-warping disease and death.

He could hear confused and frightened murmuring from the assembled mortals, but Cato couldn't pay much attention to them - other than to ensure that he wouldn't have additional opponents as he shot at the massive metal and meat beast repeatedly, hitting joints and disabling weapons. Nurglite bastards never went down quickly, and he desperately wished he had a flamer unit on him, or nearby but -

a jet of promethium-blue flames erupted less than a foot to his left, lighting the cursed beast on fire. It screamed with eleven throats, flailing and lashing out, ripping up the large metal plate and chucking them at both Cato and the flamer. 

Cato ducked the flying debris, startling a little as the wielder of the promethium-based weapon was none other than the lord magos of the Ulvranis system. The chaos-creature withered and died in the cleansing flames that would burn eternally. 

The magos turned, its' centipedal form scuttling soundlessly before it deliberately bowed to Cato. It whistled and chirped rapidly in binary.

The translator-servo skull spoke up moments later "The Honorable Lord Magos apologizes for the unexpected end to the battle. They have been dealing with cultists for some time, and suspected that they would try and cause problems during the negotiations. You are truly a magnificent warrior, and the Lord Magos is pleased to rejoin the greater Imperium of Man with such allies at its side." 

The magos offered Cato the dataslate that held one of the copies of the treaty. It was signed by the magos and its circle of supporters.

Cato nodded, taking the dataslate saying "The lord regent has already been informed of your capitulation." He waited a couple of hearts-beats.

Father spoke up, instructing Cato "Tell the Lord Magos that I am pleased that they are willing to rejoin the imperium, and that I would be willing to send aid in rooting out the chaos cultists causing problems, as chaos is a problem that all of us need to face together."

Cato dutifully repeated what his Lord Father said word for word. 

The magos bowed lower, and the servo-skull informed him that the magos humbly accepted Father's offer of help. 

A detachment of primaris psykers, flamer-wielding marines and standard battle-brothers would be sent to this and every living world within the control of the Uvranis System in order to root out all of the chaos cultists and purify them in the cleansing flames of the Emperor, along with enough ships and supplies to ensure that campaign was successful, while Father continued to helm the Indomitus Crusade.