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pessimisticoptimistsblog · 9 months ago

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A/N – This chapter practically wrote itself! Hopefully I’m back in my groove a bit and can get another one out by Friday!

CW: language and angst Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

Chapter 7

Hotel

Lucifer walked into his kitchen the next day to see Caelwen at the stove cooking what smelled like bacon. As she flipped pieces in the pan, he could see her wings fluttering slightly. The lack of recent use after having finally learned the muscles probably left them achy and sore. Now that they had broken the seal on her soul, though, Lucifer was excited to focus on teaching her how to fly.

Finally acknowledging the presence behind her, Caelwen turned her head to see Lucifer with a faraway look on his face. She turned back to pull the last few pieces of meat from the pan and turn the stove off. The Nephilim headed towards the kitchen island they’d been eating at for weeks and set the bacon next to the pancakes she had already put out. Caelwen sat and looked expectantly at Lucifer, watching as he finally shook himself out of his daze and came to sit across the island.

“They probably aren’t quite as good as your pancakes, but hopefully you enjoy them!” Caelwen beamed as Lucifer tried one of the sweet disks.

As he chewed, Lucifer looked at Caelwen’s eager grin and smiled to assure her they were good. “They may not be as amazing as mine, but they’re still good. And I can always show you how to make mine tomorrow before we start on flying practice!”

Caelwen’s smile dropped quickly as she looked down and began to push her food around her plate. “I forgot I never got to tell you, I’ll be leaving today. I need to check on my company and I promised Charlie I’d stay at her hotel to personally watch over it to repay her.” Peaking back at Lucifer for his reaction, Caelwen sank into her chair.

Lucifer wasn’t sure how he felt to be honest. He was still coming to terms with the way the Nephilim made him feel and he thought he’d have at least the next few months before extermination to explore those feelings while helping her learn to fly. But maybe some time apart after their week of close proximity followed by a week of him fearing he’d killed her would help him sort through everything without any distractions? Plus, she said she was helping Charlie and he’d do anything if it helped his daughter!

Caelwen interrupted the fallen angel’s thoughts, “I’m sure I can still come here a couple times a week for lessons! If that would be okay, of course. Or you could come to the hotel occasionally, too. Then you’d get to see Charlie, as well!” She was nervous she had upset Lucifer when he hadn’t responded to her at first and hoped her compromise would appeal to him.

Truthfully, she didn’t want to leave, especially to be so close to Alastor. But she had made a deal with Charlie and she had to uphold her end of the bargain. Calewen would love nothing more than to stay here and learn to fly while getting closer to the king of hell. Their kiss was still so fresh in her mind but his reaction to her last night had her wondering if her week of being comatose had changed his feelings.

The two had gone silent, so lost in their own thoughts that when an imp walked into the kitchen they both jumped, forks clattering onto plates. The imp looked between the two in confusion, grabbing a broom and dust pan from the pantry closet before exiting the kitchen. Lucifer and Caelwen stared at the kitchen door then to each other, starting to laugh at the awkwardness of the situation.

“That was so weird!” Caelwen giggled.

Lucifer cleared his throat and tapped his fork on his plate for a moment. “Sooo… why are uh.. why are you staying at the hotel? Does this have to do with your meeting last week?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah! One of the demons at the hotel is kind of on a ‘Demons I Won’t Let Near My Hounds’ list. Hehe.. I had been under the impression he was dead, but apparently not. And he was causing some issues with the hounds I had stationed there.” Caelwen rolled her eyes, thoughts of Alastor always annoyed her. And now she’d be under the same roof! She wanted to gag.

Lucifer nodded along with Caelwen’s explanation until a thought struck him. “Why are you guarding the hotel though? I mean, obviously I saw those shark demon-things try to tear it apart, but surely they can protect themselves. Not that I mind having someone look out for Charlie, of course! I love that!” He rushed out before taking a breath. “But I have looked into your company and this just seems like an odd job to take on. Plus, you’re not exactly cheap and Charlie hasn’t asked for an extra money to fund security.”

“Oh, its definitely out of the ordinary for us!” Caelwen chuckled. “Charlie came to me before the last extermination to ask for our help. She thought if we could keep sinners from destroying the hotel and maintain a presence, it might encourage more people to check out redemption. She couldn’t afford my rates, but she was insistent. Asked if I wanted redemption or anything else she could possibly get me. I wanted to meet with you since you were the only possible person that could help me with the seal. Obviously, she got me the meeting and now here we are. I owe both of you my life, this is just how I can start repaying that debt.”

Lucifer was nodding along again but this time his gaze was unfocused and Caelwen couldn’t read him. Inside, Lucifer was spiraling; of course a beautiful woman wouldn’t actually want anything to do with him, she just needed his powers and now she was done with him. He knew it had been too good to be true, fuck he was so stupid!

Caelwen reached across the island and grabbed Lucifer’s hand, squeezing it to bring his attention back to her. “I can practically see the steam coming out of your ears! What’s wrong?” She smiled at him before noticing the frown on his face and it clicked why he had spaced out. “Lucifer, please know this – I may have come to you solely for help breaking that seal, but… I truly wish I could stay longer, just to get to know you. I-“ Caelwen pulled back and sighed searching for the right words. “I’ve never had romantic thoughts or feeling for anyone before. I’ve spent my whole life on the defensive and never gave love a thought. With you, I’ve experienced emotions I never thought I would and in such a short amount of time! I know myself well enough to know this isn’t a fleeting feeling, I truly do care for you in a romantic way.”

Her sincerity was lost on Lucifer who had already convinced himself she was just trying to not anger the king of hell. He should’ve known better than to trust her; even if she wasn’t a sinner, she had spent long enough in hell to pick up their manipulative ways. Caelwen could see he was pulling away emotionally and knew there was nothing else she could say at this point. She gathered their empty plates and put them into the sink before returning to Lucifer’s side.

Hesitantly, Caelwen placed her hand on the fallen angel’s shoulder making him look at her. “I can tell you don’t fully believe me and that’s okay. I truly have come to love spending time with you, you’ve made me so happy. I wouldn’t have cared if we never broke the seal, I still had the chance to meet and fall for an amazing, kind, wonderfully awkward man. And I will always cherish that.” She smiled gently down at Lucifer then turned and walked towards the kitchen door. Stopping before she exited, Caelwen turned togive Lucifer one last smile. “If you ever change your mind or want to talk, you know where I’ll be.” And then she was gone, leaving Lucifer alone with his mess of thoughts, unsure of what or how he was feeling anymore.

~Hound Security Headquarters~

Madame C materialized in front of her building, green eyes stared up at the dark brick and took in the small hole being patched up by a couple hell hounds she didn’t recognize. Shaking her head, the woman walked into the building seeing Rocco at the front desk on guard duty.

“Hey Boss! Good to see you back! Nia told me things got a little spooky with your personal stuff. I’m glad you’re okay. I’ll let Nia know your on your way up, she can catch you up on all the fun stuff we’ve delt with.” Rocco rolled his eyes at the word fun then pressed a button on his computer to alert Nia to a visitor.

Madame C waved at the hell hound, signing her thanks and making her way up the stairs towards the 2nd floor where her office sat. Reaching the doors she spotted Echo leaning against the wall looking annoyed. When he caught sight of his boss, he quickly straightened and moved to open one of the doors. Madame C didn’t miss the almost relieved smile on the hell hound’s face making her wonder what she was walking into.

In the office, Nia sat at the desk with her claws pulling at her fur, the phone on speaker and a familiar voice yelling through the phone.

“-I get that she sends you lot to do the job, but it shouldn’t be this hard to see the woman I’m actually paying to voice my complaints! Like, honestly! That bitch needs to actually run her shit company and not leave it for you mangy mutts to fuck everything up! This is ridiculous-“ Madame C sat across from Nia getting the she wolf’s attention and signing for her to let Velvette know she was there.

“Well actually-“

“No! You’re not going to interrupt me! I’m a paying fucking customer, bitch! And I demand to meet with Madame C and you can’t keep-”

“IM TRYING TO TELL YOU THAT SHE'S HERE!! She just got back into the office! And once I’ve had a chance to catch her up, we’ll set your appointment up and let you know. Goodbye!” Nia growled out before slamming her fist on the phone, effectively shattering it. “Shit. Sorry boss, I didn’t- I just…” Nia groaned and slumped down into the chair.

“I take it the Vees are upset about something, or at least Velvette is?” Madame C let her shadows disappear after she deemed the office sealed and sat facing her assistant.

Nia’s hands rubbed over her face as she groaned again. “Yes! Ugh, I don’t even know what her issue is either, because she says she can only talk to you! Says it’s ‘overlord business’ or some shit. And then, I’m sure you saw it, but some asshole tried to take the building down! Tried to use a cannon or whatever and nearly took out the front wall. Everything was going great, and then literally the last 3 days have sucked so bad! I swear, it was all smooth sailing and- wait… did you talk? Did actual sounds just come from your face?!” Nia had gone from angry and throwing her hands in the air to an excited puppy, grinning and bouncing in her seat while wagging her tail.

Caelwen laughed slightly at her assistant, “Yes, we were able to break the seal and now I’m officially whole. I don’t plan on telling anyone until at least after extermination day though, so let’s keep this quiet?” She smirked as Nia punched the air.

“Fuck yeah! You got it boss, no one knows except us. And Lucifer, obviously, but I’m sure he wouldn’t say anything.”

“Good! Well, catch me up. I’ve got to sort this all out and then head to Charlie’s hotel, got a promise to keep.”

“Trust me, boss, it’s not been anything major. The guy that blew up some of our wall is already dead, he picked the day Celine was managing the desk.” Both women shuddered slightly at the mention of the company’s terrifying head training hound. No hell hound could start working for Madame C until they passed Celine’s boot camp, if they made it through.

“As long as no one was hurt and everything has been handled, then I guess that’s all I need to know about that!” Caelwen laughed.

“Yeah, Celine’s a scary bitch. But no one got hurt and Beelzebub was happy to send over a couple extra guys to patch it up. She’s wanting to meet up soon too, by the way. Discuss numbers, possible expansion, all that kinda stuff. And then obviously Velvette has been trying to meet with you for the past could weeks. Started just before the Overlord meeting and hasn’t let up since.”

Caelwen sat back in her seat, taking in everything Nia told her to decide if the issues could wait the couple months until after extermination day. Or if she’d need to subject her hounds to another day of dealing with the Radio Demon while she ensured her clients were taken care of.

“I guess go ahead and set up a meeting with Velvette for tonight. After I finish with her, I’ll head straight to the hotel and relieve whoever we have there now.”

“Ughh… I wish we didn’t need the income from the Vees, I’d throw them all to the exorcists in a heartbeat.” Nia sighed as she got up from the office chair and headed towards the door. She needed to go downstairs and have Rocco contact Velvette as well as get a new phone.

Madame C covered herself with shadows before the door opened and moved to her normal spot behind the desk. Flipping through the papers on her desk, she was happy to see things had been moving smoothly while she was out.

A few short hours later, Madame C was knocking on the front door of the Hazbin Hotel. Velvette had tried to get Madame C to support the Vees idea of a full assault on the exorcists and was pissed to get turned down, again. So, the shadowed woman was not only annoyed she’d had to listen to Velvette bitch again but now she had to deal with Alastor. And after the way the morning had gone with Lucifer, all she wanted was a drink and sleep.

The door swung open to reveal Charlie herself beaming at the shadow figure on the doorstep. “Ohmygosh!! You’re here! Come in come in! I can’t wait for you to meet everyone!” The blonde was bouncing as she grabbed Madame C’s arm and pulled her into the hotel lobby.

Green eyes tiredly took in the room around her. She vaguely remembered each of the people in front of her but honestly couldn’t care too much for introductions at this point in the night. Madame C leaned up to the princess before she could rope them into a conversation.” I appreciate the hospitality, but I would prefer to speak in private and be shown to where I’ll be staying. It’s been a long day,” she whispered.

Charlie stopped, glancing down at the shadowed form in shock before quickly rebounding and grabbing her girlfriend off the couch. “We’re going to get our new guest settled and we can all do introductions tomorrow. Behave guys!” The blonde pushed Vaggie and Madame C up the stairs and down a hall towards her room. Yanking the two women into the room and closing the door behind all of them, Charlie turned towards Madame C in excitement. “You spoke! That means you and my dad figured it out, right? That’s amaaazing!!”

Made C smiled slightly and looked around the room taking note that the curtains were already drawn for the night. She closed her eyes and placed a barrier on the room, she trusted the two in this room and no others with what she was about to show them.

Once she was sure the room was secured, green eyes opened and looked to the princess. “Yes, we were successful. And because of that and my promise to you, I feel I owe you an explanation for exactly why I needed that meeting. First, I need you both to make me a promise. What I am about to show you and tell you can not leave this room.” Madame C glanced between the two girls in front of her, hoping she could convey the severity of the situation.

Charlie and Vaggie looked at each other in confusion, having an entire conversation with one look. “As long as no one here will get hurt, we can keep your secret,” The princess finally said.

“I can assure you, my secret will not harm anyone here. But if it leaves this room, I can no longer make that guarantee.” When the women in front of Madame C finally nodded, the shadows dropped from around the woman. Before Charlie and Vaggie no longer stood an inky black mass that sort of resembled a person, but a very human looking woman. Messy hair sat in its typical bun with pieces framing her face, and she was dressed in a knee-length black dress. The golden wings on her back, though, made Vaggie’s eyes widen in shock, and Charlie’s face went from shock to excitement.

“You.. have. Wings?! What?! That’s so cool! But wouldn’t that-.. are you? B-but then, why are you in hell? I have so many questions-“ Charlie started to ramble as she jumped around Caelwen to take in the new figure in front of her until Vaggie grabbed her arms to calm her girlfriend down.

“Babe, give her a minute. She’s trying to tell us.”

“Thank you, Vaggie.” Caelwen gave the one-eyed woman a smile, then turned her attention back to Charlie. “I am not an angel, I am known as a Nephilim – half angel, half human. I was… shoved, for lack of a better word, into hell by my heavenly parent and had the angelic half of my soul sealed along with my voice. You’re father was my last hope of breaking that seal as only his power could rival my heavenly parent. Now, I am completely whole, and I owe you and Lucifer my life.” Caelwen paused before adding on, “My name is also Caelwen; Madame C was the name I took when I became an overlord.”

Vaggie fixed Caelwen with a hard look, trying to read the young looking woman before her. “I thought Nephilim were a myth. If you’re truly one of them, who’s your ‘heavenly parent’?”

Charlie perked up next to her girlfriend also curious to know the answer. Caelwen let out a sigh and looked away from the questioning eyes in front of her, unsure if she should divulge this piece of her life. But she had trusted Lucifer and even Nia, surely she could trust Lucifer’s daughter, right?

“You must promise this never leaves here. I will force a deal if I must to keep your silence. Are we clear?” The Nephilim woman looked between Vaggie and Charlie, the blonde reaching out her hand to shake before making her girlfriend do the same. Caelwen grasped each of theirs hands, not sealing their promise with magic but to show she appreciated the sincerity. The brunette took a shaky breath, clasping her hands together to steel her nerves, knowing the two in front of her may not react well. “My father is Adam.”

Silence blanketed the room, Charlie and Vaggie blinking owlishly at Caelwen having never expected the name the brunette uttered. Vaggie was the first to respond, with an incredulous “That’s a joke, right?” Caelwen shook her head with a frown on her face.

Charlie finally broke out in nervous laughter as she flipped onto her bed and put her hands in her hair. “You’re the daughter of The Adam? I have the daughter of that asshole protecting the hotel? I sent you to my dad?” The blonde paused before her eyes darted to Caelwen. “Did you tell my dad? Does he know too?!”

Caelwen knelt in front of Charlie , grabbed one of the blonde’s hands in both of her own and looked into her eyes. “Your father was the first person I’ve ever told about all of that. He actually knows even more than you do, I just felt you and Vaggie deserved at least the basics. Lucifer was very aware of my lineage, he wouldn’t even agree to help until I told him everything. I promise, I know what my father has done, but I am not him nor will I ever be. You can ask the sinners in your hotel, I don’t even own any souls and have never tried to!” Caelwen finished with a smile looking from Charlie and Vaggie, who now had a hand on the blonde’s shoulder.

Charlie’s shoulders sagged with relief. “I’m sorry I freaked out for a second there, I just… Adam has done so much to hurt so many of my people, I got kinda scared I might’ve invited that here. To the hotel. But if my dad was willing to trust and help you, knowing everything with his and Adam’s history, then I’m sure we can trust you.” Charlie squeezed both girls’ hands with a small smile on her face.

Caelwen released the blonde and stood. “Well then, as long as we all agree that this stays in this room, I would love to know where I’ll be sleeping. Today has felt never-ending.”

Seeing the brunette’s obvious exhaustion, Charlie jumped up excited to show Caelwen to the room she’d picked out for her. Caelwen paused before they got to the door and covered herself in shadows, and dropped the barrier she had put up.

Once she was settled in a room far away from Alastor’s, Charlie had remembered the woman’s distaste for the radio demon, Caelwen sat on the bed. It wasn’t quite a comfy as Lucifer’s, unfortunately. And the blonde haired man wasn’t going to pop in in the morning to drag her down to breakfast. She wasn’t even sure if Lucifer would visit or want her to come to him; he’d seemed so withdrawn when she’d left this morning. Curling into a tight ball under the covers, Caelwen felt her heart break a little. She’d only just begun to learn what it felt like to be in love, and she’d already lost it.

A/N – Angst! I think? First time writing it, so hopefully, I got it right! Also, I’ve got a couple off-shoot/one shot ideas I’m fleshing out for Lucifer and Caelwen. Once I’ve got at least one more, I’ll make a poll to let you guys vote on which one goes up first! Thank you all for all the love on this series so far!

Tag list

@leximus98

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin x reader #helluva boss #lucifer morningstar x reader

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fallstreakfeathers · 1 year ago

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(Info needs updated!)

Name:

Charlotte Lee Ainsley (later, Ainsley-Kanda)

Nicknames:

“Charlie”(most people), ‘the Silver Phoenix’ (because her glaive is silver, and she sometimes appears to rise from fire like the phoenix does), “gift from the sea” (Akihiko only!!), “brat”, “devil/demon” (derogatory), ‘foreigner/outlander’, 'pretty/little demon killer' (Urogi)

Ethnicity:

Irish/European-American

Age:

Physical Age: 24

Personality:

Strong-willed, childish, fancies herself a comedian, a bit of a brat. Snarky. Quick to forgive, and rarely means ill towards anyone. Gets attached to people easily- even those she really shouldn’t! A bit of a dumbass. Will say offensive/out of pocket things when the opportunity arises because it is funny.

Though she tries, she never really seems to be able to fit in with Japanese society. She always feels a bit outcast, even among friends.

Low physical self-esteem, because people tend to call her unattractive or think she’s dirty because of her freckles. Always scrubs herself real hard in the bath, hoping one day they’ll disappear.

Relies on her heart, except in battle where she thinks logically and quickly, and has a strong sense of honor taught by Akihiko. Would never attack an opponent’s back or betray an ally.

Shockingly wise at times.

Frequently cooks her friends' favorite meals.

Was a hell-raiser when brought to the Corps before she settled in.

She’s a guardian at heart, and won’t ever hesitate to help someone in need, even those who are prejudiced towards her.

History:

A foreigner from North America, Charlotte arrived in Japan at 13 years old purely by misfortune.

In a bout of mischief, she became a stowaway on a cargo ship and unintentionally fell asleep. Hours later, she found herself alone in the middle of the ocean with nobody except the crew that she continued to hide from in fear.

When she was eventually discovered, the ship was too far out to return to port.

A freak storm blew the ship far off course, before an underwater demon attacked, sinking the ship and leaving Charlotte floating on the wreckage only because the sun had begun to shine through the waters.

Shortly after surviving the shipwreck, she is attacked yet again by another yokai whilst stranded on the mainland. She is saved by Akihiko Kanda, the demon who eats demons. While she initially was very frightened by him, and even raised a makeshift weapon in defense, she quickly came to like the man.

Akihiko takes young Charlie under his wing, stating that “if she’s going to do stupid things, she may as well know how to defend herself properly.”

This set her on the path of becoming a strong warrior, though she used two makeshift spears (sticks, really, with broken nichirin blades attached to the ends).

She eventually comes to befriend two yokai who further her abilities- a kappa under the command of Akihiko, who teaches her how to slip around land as easily as in water, and an old Inugami who imparts various knowledge and wisdoms to her.

Several years in the future, but before the canon storyline, Akihiko and Charlie are found by members of the Demon Slayer Corp. Akihiko flees, unwilling to kill humans, and he leaves Charlie in their care.

Charlie is brought, against her will, to the Butterfly Mansion where she is interrogated as a potential spy for Muzan. She fights ferally to attempt an escape but is ultimately captured again.

Sanemi, who wants to simply kill her, is stopped by Giyu who offers Charlie a choice: spar with him, and if Charlie wins then she can go. If Giyu wins, then Charlie must join the corps.

After a fierce battle, where Charlie’s initial skill is clear, she is defeated by the Water Hashira, who then helps her to her feet (both earning her respect and friendship).

Charlotte has frequent interactions with most Hashira due to her unique circumstances but is not anyone's Tsuguko.

Rank:

Charlie was assigned Kanoto rank shortly after her acceptance into the corps, along with special permission to skip Final Selection due to her circumstances, as she had proven her ability to survive and had slain several demons already.

This, however, means that some slayers in the corps don’t consider Charlie a true member…

Breath Style: Oil Breathing

Originally mistaken as an offset of Water Breathing before it was quickly discovered as a breath derived from Flame.

Charlotte Ainsley-Kanda is its creator, having seen a man using Flame breathing to kill a demon at a young age. She had difficulty replicating Flame breathing itself and created a new style.

Oil breathing can be used with a standard Nichirin Katana, but was created with Charlie’s two glaives in mind and therefore is best suited to a polearm, or two weapons.

Oil Breathing is a dance filled with not only movement, but power. It requires a lithe, flexible user to be able to reach its full potential.

Users of Oil Breathing can largely benefit from learning swordsmanship from Water Breathing users.

Charlie also is adept with a slingshot and will use it to fling wisteria-filled smoke bombs across the battlefield.

Hobbies:

Bird-watching

Cooking

Collects trophies from demons she slays, as a memorial more than anything else. Akihiko thinks this habit is barbaric and frequently chides her for it.

Often plays the shinobue flute Akihiko gifted her years ago.

Irritating Sanemi

Can frequently be seen dancing in her spare time. If she sees a close friend, they might be dragged into it. She’s made Giyu dance with her several times, in private for his sake.

Mitsuri is also a frequent dance partner.

Special Skills

Having been trained by an Oni from a teen, Charlotte does have several abilities not seen by most other humans.

- Immunity to nightshade.

Akihiko was adamant that Charlie grow resistant to this popular poison, knowing how dangerous the world is and also that associating herself with him would make her a target.

- Muscle Density

Like Mitsuri, Charlie has a shocking amount of muscle- though hers is from physically sparring with a demon.

- Breath Expulsion

Charlie has extraordinarily powerful lungs, and so is able to (aside from holding her breath for 15 minutes) briefly inhale her wisteria incense and shoot a blast of wisteria-infused smoke from her mouth as a poisonous cloud.

Usually used in dire circumstances to give herself an edge, or to save an ally.

She tends to wheeze for a while afterward.

- Walking demon deterrent

Charlie’s room is covered in wisteria incense cones, and she’s usually seen hanging around inside the wisteria trees that surround the Butterfly Estate. Therefore, the scent of wisteria is usually quite heavy on her, and she can be used as a natural deterrent against low-level oni and yokai.

- Flame Cloak

Charlie has been able to learn how to use her oil breathing to coat herself in the liquid, and then ignite it, covering herself in fire. The oil protects her flesh and clothes until it burns out, and the fire dissipates with it.

This ability is psychologically effective to most opponents, demon and human alike.

Other Trivia:

Much more fluent in Japanese than English, but she cannot read well in either language. Akihiko was much more concerned with making sure Charlie could understand what people were saying than what they wrote.

Tends to openly state her emotions, as a habit from when Akihiko first began teaching her to speak Japanese- when she’s overwhelmed with positive feelings, she sometimes forgets the correct words, so she’ll shorten it to “happy!” with a big smile.

Charlie’s crow assigned himself to her by immediately landing on her head after Giyu and Charlie’s sparring.

Charlie willingly gave her blood to Akihiko on a regular basis, extracting it with fresh syringes. She had no qualms about it, and Akihiko always made sure she only gave him a small amount.

Giyu gifted her blue hair pins a year after they met, and she always wears them or keeps them with her. Also keeps several gifts from her friends on her (earrings from Tengen, a good luck charm from Mitsuri), but secretly values the hairpins more due to her relationship with Giyu

Due to frequent nightmares, Charlie keeps a small Baku totem under her pillow at all times.

Charlie's relationship with Urogi was entirely an accident.

Has a large burn scar covering her back from when she was starting to learn how to cloak herself in flame. It was a valuable lesson, and one she wears without shame.

Does not hate Sanemi, but thinks it’s funny to anger him and also thinks he deserves it after he tried to kill her

Always greets her friends when they return home.

Her physical flexibility rivals Inosuke’s

Charlie has a burning anger toward infidelity- anyone who she knows to be cheating on their partner

Because she has low physical self esteem, she’s easily attached to anyone who genuinely compliments her appearance

She was stillborn

Theme Songs:

Forokururu (Monster Hunter) *

Kulve Taroth (Monster Hunter) *

What Do You Know (Annihilation)

Rowdy Rumble (Kingdom Hearts)

Empty Crown (Yas)

#arkwrites #demon slayer #demon slayer oc #kny oc #arkdraws #my art #The elements are physical because i said so :P #Akihiko is next #Gotta get decent references out before i start uploading my dang fic #long post #Demon is an umbrella term in this fic: Yokai refers to animalistic demons that aren't always entirely sapient #Oni refers specifically to human-shaped demons #WaveSong

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macabr3-barbi3 · 8 months ago

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reposting and adding the fic itself below the cut! chapter 2 coming soon!

"You should have known that falling into dreams would get you in trouble when someone found out."

Tags: Dream Sex, Dreamsharing, Vaginal Sex, Cunnilingus, Rough Sex, Light Bondage, Dreamwalking, Non Sex-Repulsed Alastor

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

Despite what people might think, being a dream demon is no easy task.

Once you fall asleep it’s not something that you can really control as far as what dream you go into. Being in Hell you got to see some weird shit before you made it to the Hazbin Hotel- that had never bothered you before. You used it to your advantage when you first got here and realized what you could do- blackmailing a shopkeeper here and there to give you food unless he wanted you to tell the loan shark he was scraping money under the table, because he dreamed about what the other party would do if they found out. Winning rigged games at the Casino because the owner couldn’t stop himself from dreaming about the clever ways that he sabotaged the machines, ways that you were able to fix and profit off. Coercing one middle-age demon lady to fuck off so you could use her house for a couple nights or else you would tell her neighbor that she wanted to fuck her husband- you had been able to repeat that one all the way around the cul de sac and hadn’t had to sleep on the streets for weeks. Any dream that you could use you did.

That changed when you came to the hotel. One of your first nights you had said ‘fuck it’ and slept when everyone else did- you didn’t know these people, you didn’t really trust them, you might as well get some info to arm yourself with. You had decided you were done with exploiting people based on their dreams, and you could get behind the idea of Heaven, but you still needed to look out for yourself. You needed to be prepared.

You had fallen onto a street you recognized mid city- and mid Extermination. The air was filled with the sounds of screams, blades flinging through the air, blood splattering on the asphalt around every corner. An exorcist ran by you, their face uncharacteristically troubled as they looked at the bloodshed around them before ripping their mask off.

Vaggie. She was an angel?

She crouched beside a body on the ground- Charlie - her eyes wide and panicked, curses falling from her lips and she clutched the dead demon’s hand to her chest. In the span of a blink she was on the ground, another exorcist above her, sharp steel digging into her left eye and dragging through the tendons of her wings, and the screaming and screaming and-

It wasn’t the first time you had seen a nightmare, but it was the first time you had felt bad about it. When you ran into Vaggie in the kitchen a mere ten minutes later you didn’t tell her what you had seen, just offered her a glass of the whiskey you pilfered from behind Husk’s bar. You hated the idea of intruding on an intimate moment like that with any of the other residents, but sometimes you couldn’t help it.

It happened to everyone at least once. Charlie dreams of her dad when she was younger, sometimes about Vaggie- Husk dreams of Angel Dust, their soft moments together at the bars, sometimes fading into something you blush at and have the decency to look away from. Angel and Nifty… those ones anyone could guess.

You were bound to fall into Alastor’s dreams occasionally- and lord, if that wouldn’t give you nightmares of your own if you could have them. Scenes of carnage that have you hiding around corners, certain that he would be able to smell your terror if he could see you. Blood rained from the sky, black tentacles whipping this way and that, dark shadows that you had enough sense to avoid, and all the while his laugh- echoing in the air, unable to pinpoint where it was coming from, reverberating in your chest and making your heart beat wildly. You had seen him only once in these dreams, and his eyes had become dark, black pits as he stared at you before his claws came up and swiped-

Since then most nights you just don’t sleep, hopped up on enough caffeine and energy drinks to fuel a small army of Charlies- not that she needed it. You dread the nights that you can’t stop yourself from passing out cold on the sofa or in your room at the hotel, sometimes trying to sleep during the day when you can to avoid any accidental phasing into a private sleep-numbed moment, or relishing of past acts of violence.

Then you fall asleep in the lobby one day, blissfully void of anyone’s dreams until you find yourself materializing in a swamp somewhere. The air is comfortably warm but stuffy, mosquitos and bugs buzzing happily around you, above the water, flitting through the trees. There’s a vaguely familiar smell in the air that you can’t immediately pinpoint, so you follow it- through the wooded area nearby along the edge of the river until you come to a little house nestled in the trees. There’s a woman hovering over a pot that rests atop a large fire, spoon in her hand that she offers to the man sitting with his legs crossed on the porch. He takes a taste of the jambalaya and offers her a soft smile before a branch cracking under your feet alerts him to your presence. His eyes sweep across the treeline. The shock of seeing the face you’re so accustomed to having a smile with a deep, upset frown accompanying his glare has you waking in a cold sweat.

You bolted from the lobby, ignoring Husk’s concerned call after you as you ran back to your room. You lean against the door, waiting for the dark shadow to appear on your floor before Alastor arrives to kill you- but it never comes.

He never speaks of it. He may not have even seen you.

He’ll raise an eyebrow at you when you see him, offer you a dangerous smile, but he doesn’t say a word if he notices your heart rate tripling or the way that you essentially run from him every time. It was somehow worse than the killing sprees he dreamed about, prompting a feeling similar to the first time you had entered Vaggie’s dreams. That was not something meant to be seen by an outsider, by a stranger.

You redouble your efforts to not sleep at the hotel, especially not when he’s around. You get a part time job working retail outside the hotel, despite Charlie’s insistence that she could find something for you to do around the place. You sleep in the break room when your body absolutely requires it, much less iffy about catching yourself in the dreams of strangers that happen to be sleeping in the buildings around you. Sometimes you just wandered off, as far as the edge of their consciousness would allow you to go. It gets harder to fight the pull as time goes on, your body desperate for a regular sleep schedule, but you don’t want to risk it.

When you come home from work tonight though, you can feel the tiredness in your bones. Being able to talk back to customers with minimal repercussions did not make the retail job any easier to your disappointment. You hadn’t been able to sleep at work on your breaks, too loud and noisy with the midday shifts your boss had you on, but you had left your wallet at home so you couldn’t get a room somewhere. You were planning on just grabbing it and heading back out when the flash of red caught your eye on a lobby couch.

Alastor. He was uncharacteristically slumped over one arm of the couch, smile still present though his eyes were closed. He looked calm- peaceful. It was a nice change from the whirlwind of a demon you usually saw running about the hotel, that you usually ran from, and he definitely could have used more sleep if he was passing out in public, vulnerable places. Much like yourself. You should leave him be- the other dreams had been enough, and after that last one you didn’t want to risk discovery. No one knew about your power yet, Alastor having come closest. You thought he more than anyone would not appreciate it

But… he looked so serene while he slept. You couldn’t help the surge of curiosity, of wanting to know what had the radio demon so at peace. And you were desperate for at least a nap- he made the couch look so comfortable.

Carefully, silently, you situate yourself on the other end, careful not to touch him as you settle into the corner. You curl up against the arm, more comfortable than the way that Alastor had simply seemed to fall over, and you’re asleep almost before you’ve let your power wash over you.

At first there is nothing- darkness so profound that you think for a moment your power hadn’t worked for some reason. But then there is a light a short distance away, a spotlight focused on a bed with rich burgundy sheets. There’s a person resting atop it, naked, their hands secured to the head of the bed with a measure of rope. You can’t see who it is, and you’re itching to get a closer look, but-

Oh shit.

Somehow a dead-center mix of the violent dreams and his mother, this felt both profoundly intimate and wickedly carnal. The body in the bed whimpers, their hands tugging lightly at the rope that encircles their wrists, and even at this distance you wince at the bright red marks on their skin. You can’t tell if it’s just a sex dream or if there was going to be something darker going on here. Either way, you needed to go before-

“Alastor…”

The person on the bed speaks, and it is so unmistakably your own voice and so unmistakably aroused that you freeze where you stand.

This is bad. This is not just a sex dream, you’ve seen enough of those from Angel and Nifty- and sweet Satan did Nifty need a therapist or a prison sentence or something. But this was a sex dream about you- some hidden desire that you were never supposed to see. Something Alastor likely kept shoved so far into the back of his subconscious that it only emerged now that he has passed out on a lobby couch with no defenses.

You should leave. A shiver runs down your spine as you watch the person- you - shift on the bed, testing the strength of your restraints. “Alastor,” you keen again, and you can feel the flame in your own cheeks as you watch this dream double wait for something that might not even be-

“Yes, darling?” Alastor is there suddenly, emerging from the shadows right fucking next to you and approaching the bed, circling around to the other side. “Whatever can I do for you, sweetness?”

Your voice is a soft exhale, your body visibly relaxing at the knowledge that he is there now. “Let me go, please,” you say softly, sweetly, the words taking a tone you’ve never heard from yourself before. “I want to touch you.”

He tsks at you, shaking a finger in your direction. “Ah ah ah,” he admonishes, dropping into a crouch beside the bed. “This is a punishment, dear, remember? Do you recall what you’re being punished for?”

You see your head whip back and forth on the pillow. “Watching you sleep, sir,” you get out, “intruding on your dreams.”

Your breath hitches. He knew- he had seen you those nights that you fell into his dream. He might not know you were in here with him at this moment but you need to get the fuck out of here, right now-

“Correct!” Alastor’s voice holds no malice, the lack of any true anger making you pause before you can phase out of the dream. “Quite the interesting power, dear, and good on you for keeping it a secret for so long!” He leans down over you, hovering out of reach. “But you should know that there are no secrets in my hotel. And despite the mutually beneficial agreement we’ve come to because of that, it was still rather naughty, hmm?”

“Yes sir. But I-”

His clawed hand brushes against your navel, effectively shutting your mouth. “Hush, darling, I know.” He’s just barely grazing you; you can see from the way your dream double has tensed that it’s not enough, arching into his touch as he retreats to keep the same light pressure on your skin. “We can discuss it later, yes? For now, let’s begin.”

His touch gets more deliberate, placing his hand fully on your waist and tracing his thumb along the bottom of your breast. Dream-You lets out a shaky breath, something that you mimic unwittingly from your position in the shadows. You can see the shadows of your eyelashes fluttering closed, and you start to close your own as well.

“Eyes on me, dear.” Your eyes fly open, sure that he has caught you, but he’s still watching the version of you in the bed, his free hand coming up to cup your cheek. He swings a long leg up onto the bed and straddles your waist, allowing both palms to run down the length of your body and back up, letting his claws leave delicate red lines on your skin as he does so. Dream-You gives a soft moan at the sensation, and just to be sure you clap a hand over your own mouth where you stand, trying to breathe steadily through your nose as you watch the scene unfold.

Alastor’s grin sharpens suddenly, and he scoots down the bed a little ways, trailing a sharp-tipped finger down the center of your body while he goes, pointedly avoiding the space between your legs that you notice with vague embarrassment is slick and glistening in the light. He lets his fingers dance down your leg to your ankle, raising it up and giving it a soft kiss before leaning forward enough that he can hook your knee over his shoulder.

“Please,” your double pants, lifting her head up to try to get a better view of him between her legs. “Please Alastor, let me go, wanna touch-”

“Now now, this is meant to be a punishment,” he says, turning his head to the side and nipping at the skin of your thigh. “What kind of lesson would you learn if you could do as you please? No, I think I’ll keep you just as you are- at my mercy,” he whispers, and from your place in the darkness you crane your neck to hear. “Held to my whims.” He drags his tongue from knee to navel, the hand holding your hip tightening it’s grasp as he holds you down to the bed. “A needy little thing, desperate for the pleasure that you know only I can give you.”

He dips his head then, and the cry that the version of you on the bed lets out makes your knees weak. From your vantage point, only one leg hooked over his shoulder on the opposite side of the bed, you watch as his tongue dips inside before slowing dragging out and up over your clit, circling quickly before returning to your folds. Your hands are straining against the rope holding them back, your entire body arched as you try to get more, to get him where you want him. He looks like he’s taking his time, content to lick slowly and deeply and softly at you while you lose your mind from the pleasure.

Dream-You is biting her lip, trying to keep her sounds contained, and with a glare Alastor brings his head up enough to nip his sharp teeth on your sensitive clit. “None of that, sweetheart,” he says, and releases his grip on the leg over his shoulder to press a finger into you, quickly followed by a second one. “I want nothing held back- radio is an auditory medium, after all!” His tongue dives back into you, your moans and gasps now unrestrained as you let yourself be vocal in response to the attention Alastor is giving you.

There’s a sharp crack of pain as you hit your knees on the floor, distantly thankful for the noise of your double and Alastor’s efforts as you exhale.

You should leave.

Not even bother standing, just phase out right now from your knees and when you come back into yourself in the lobby get the fuck out of there before Alastor wakes up- maybe leave the hotel while you were at it, maybe Charlie could set up some kind of at-home tutoring thing?

The version of you on the bed is nearly sobbing, trying and failing still to get out of her restraints as Alastor just goes to town, his eyes lowered and his smile pleased as he watches you thrashing above him. He pulls away for a moment, wiping your arousal off his face against your thigh, and seems content to watch you beg for a moment.

“Please,” you’re whispering, voice barely audible. “Please, please, I’ll do anything, Alastor-”

“Anything?” His grin grows, razor teeth below his eyes as they glow with an intensity you can feel from here. “Let’s make a deal then, shall we? Just a verbal agreement, nothing too serious!” You nod from your position on the bed and he moves from his crouch, stretching himself along the length of you, his belt whipping from the loops of his pants as he moves and undoes the zipper.

You can’t see but you wish you could as he draws the legs of your dream double up and settles between them. “Pay attention, darling,” he says, and you stop moving, focusing completely on where he must be resting against you. “Here’s the deal- you stay out of my dreams unless you have my direct permission to do so.” His hips shift, a drawn out keen coming from the body in the bed. “And I’ll let you cum on my cock like the sweet darling you are, now and whenever you would like.” He thrusts forward ever so slightly, his grin lecherous where he directs it at you. “Sounds fair?”

Your eyes drift shut again, exhaling hard against your palm, not sure if you could handle the visual of hearing yourself beg him for this. You wanted it- God did you want it, and it wasn’t even you, just some fucked up dream version of yourself that Alastor had created. But you couldn’t deny the heat in the pit of your stomach, the tension aching in your shoulders as you trembled just from the sights and the sounds. The version of you in the bed hadn’t spoken yet, hadn’t made the agreement official. You should leave before she did.

“Did you hear me, mon cher?” His voice is closer now, and when your lids flutter open Alastor is crouched in front of you, a sharp-tipped claw under your chin, raising your head up to look at him. “Does that sound fair?”

“What-”

When you lean away from him you fall backwards, expecting to land on your elbows on the hard floor, fighting to get your knees out from under you. Instead you land in the softness of the burgundy sheets, hands restrained above your head. The rope burns where it cuts into your skin, like you had been here for hours- like you had been pulling at them in time with your dream double for the entire length of the dream. A glance down at yourself revealed that you were not clothed, much like your double hadn’t been-

And there was Alastor, sitting crossed legged at the end of the bed, pants unbuttoned but still on his body, just past where your feet could reach. “Salutations!” He says cheerfully, like he didn’t have you restrained by the wrists and flat on your back in a place you definitely shouldn’t be. “Fancy meeting you here!”

You give him a nervous chuckle. “Haaah. C-come here often?” You can feel your face turning red as he smirks at you from between your legs, propping an arm up on his elbow to rest his head in his hand.

“Hmm, I think I should be asking you that!” His other hand darts out to tap against your shin, and you’re expressly aware of your nakedness, bared before his eyes.- and fuck, you were just minutes off of being more turned on than you’d ever been in your life, praying to whatever God would listen that he wouldn’t redirect his gaze somewhere more private. “Just how often do you intrude like this, dear?”

You clench your eyes shut. “I swear, not that often. I don’t even mean to do it- I can’t always control it-”

“Explain how it works then,” he asks, light and curious like you had a choice. “I’m admittedly at a loss- I’ve never seen something like this!”

You take a deep breath. “I realized I could do it when I first came to Hell. I was sleeping on the streets, and I would have these weird dreams every night- situations with people I had never seen before, things I had no idea about happening, no plot line to follow.” You thought back to those first couple of weeks in Hell after your death. “I started noticing that the people I saw in my dreams were the people that lived in the buildings around me- I tested the theory with some gamblers at the Casino hotel, bet them that I could guess what they dreamed about for fifty bucks. It worked a couple times before they started getting suspicious and I had to move on.” Your exhale is shaky. “I can’t really… consciously control it. I just end up in the dream of whoever is closest when I fall asleep within a certain range. Like, when I sleep in the hotel I can’t catch any dreams from the city but pretty much anyone inside is fair game, I’m not sure of the exact radius.”

A contemplative hum. “And when you are ‘out of range,’ so to speak- do you dream yourself?”

You shake your head, mind unwittingly going back to the dream double, the way her head whipped on the pillow from overstimulation. “I don’t. If I happen to be in a space where no one is near enough its just blank.” You feel yourself blush. “I’ve seen- a few dreams here at the hotel, besides just yours.”

A claw brushes against your skin. “Which is why you sleep outside the hotel, and during the day,” he says, his tone pensive. “Yes, I suppose that makes sense! I imagine when you started on the path to redemption you figured that peeking on the dreams of your friends wasn’t quite virtuous.” He drummed the clawed fingers of his hand against you. “That does not, however, explain why you are here now- it is the middle of the night, outside the time you usually try to sleep when here, and rather than making your way to your bedroom, you decided to curl up beside me on a lobby couch, quite within ‘range’ of whatever I happened to be dreaming about.”

You choke on your breath even as you try to force out a laugh. “I’m really sorry, Alastor- you looked peaceful, I don’t know what I was thinking-”

A hand curls around your calf. “Perhaps,” he says, his eyes glowing menacingly above you, “you were thinking to use whatever information you found against me?”

“What? God, no, I would never-”

“To conspire against me, using memories and thoughts that I do not share with others, for a reason?” His other hand released his chin and grasped at the bedsheets, starting to pull himself up towards your face.

Your heart is rapidfire in your throat. “No, Alastor, I swear,” you say, trying to bring your hands up before remembering that they are restrained. You force yourself to relax, to sink back into the pillows as he comes closer. “I wasn’t plotting anything- I was just curious.”

“‘Just curious,’ you say,” he repeats, and then he’s sliding his hand from calf to thigh and hiking your leg up on his hip. The motion rocks your body against his, and you fight to restrain a weak moan. "I'm quite sure you didn’t expect to find a scene like this,” he inquires, nodding at your hands above your head. “And yet you stayed, merely for curiosity? What would you have done had it continued?”

The absurdity of the situation strikes you, and you let your head drop back with a desperate laugh. “Fuck. Oh Christ, you were fucking with me. You weren’t going to go any further.” The giggle that leaves your lips is breathless, tinged with embarrassment at the sound you had made when he was messing around. “God, I should have known. Haha, you got me, I get it- don’t go into Alastor’s dreams-”

“I don’t think you do get it, dear.” His grip on you tightens, pulling your hips into alignment with his where he has your one leg wrapped around his waist. “This little rendezvous was not just meant to teach you a lesson; though I do hope that the message here is loud and clear, that my dreams are off limits without my say so.” With that he rolls his hips against yours, and against your center you can feel his erection, the only thing that had been hidden from view with the double in the bed. “However there is an invitation here as well. I more than intended to continue with the dream- the offer of the deal still stands.”

“The deal? Oh.” Your face flames. “Oh.”

He chuckles, running a clawed finger down the side of your face. “You never answered me, you know. Which is quite rude. Do you think that deal sounds fair?” He punctuates his sentence with another lazy grind against you, and the whine that escapes is embarrassing.

“I can’t control it,” you manage to whisper, “I have no way to guarantee that I won’t fall in again- I can promise I won’t do it on purpose, but-”

“Come now, dear, you don’t think I would help you with that revelation? We’ll figure something out between the two of us. I suppose the promise to not intrude on purpose could suffice for now.”

“Then… then yes, I’ll take the deal,” you say, and his grin is manic before there’s suddenly something hot and smooth pressing against you. The feeling makes you jump, only now remembering that you were still restrained. “But- we can’t shake, my hands-”

“Don’t fret, sweetheart, there are other ways to seal a deal!” His lips are on yours then, his tongue long and curious as he licks across your teeth and dominates your mouth, his hips pistoning forward and entering you with a hard thrust in the same moment. There’s a flash of green around your heads, the brightness forcing you to close your eyes as you moan into Alastor’s mouth. You can feel his grin against you as he grinds and rocks, coaxing sounds out of you that you’d never heard before- except from the version of you that had been in the bed just minutes earlier.

It’s better than you could have imagined though, actually being the one in Alastor’s focus. One hand gropes roughly at whatever bits of skin he can reach, claws present but careful where they press into your skin- the other hand slides between your bodies to roughly swipe at your clit, the brush and slide of how wet you are together making it easy for him to rocket you to the edge. He leans back, his smile feral, eyes black pits as he stares down at you. It makes you squeeze around him, your moans and low cries of his name flowing freely now that he’s released your mouth.

He grips your hip harder, nails digging into the flesh as he slams into you. You’re so close to orgasm you can feel the tension in your goddamn jaw when he whispers, “tell me it’s mine. The knowledge of your power; the sweet, addictive clench of you around me- tell me that it’s only mine and I’ll keep my end of the deal, darling” He throws his head back with a low growl. “I need it to be mine alone.”

His last word is wrecked with static and paired with a hard thrust against a spot inside of you that makes you shatter- you can’t even tell him what he wants to hear as you cum hard around his length with a whine, your body arching up into his as he works you through it, chasing his own release in the vice grip of your body. He releases one hand from you to snap his fingers- your hands are suddenly, miraculously free, and you waste no time in burying them into his hair and grasping him to you as you ride out your orgasm.

“Yours,” you mutter in his ear, figuring he needed that final push over the edge. “Both of them, only yours-”

With a snarl his hips are stuttering, grinding you into the bed with hard pushes of his hips against you. Spilling into your warmth in long pulses, he pants harshly into the space between you before he brings his eyes back up to meet yours, his eyes back to the usual scarlet you’ve come to know.

“Perhaps it’s time we return to the real world, hmm?” His smile is softer now, and this time when he snaps his fingers you’re waking up with a gasp on the lobby couch.

Your hair is sweaty against your forehead, your chest heaving with the force of your breath like you had experienced everything in real life. Alastor, of course, looks perfect- not a hair out of place, his smile still soft and eyes lowered as he looks at you. “Pleasure to see you, dear. Do you think you’re well rested now?”

You lower your shaky legs to the floor from where they had been curled up beneath you. “I… I’m not sure. Listen, Alastor, I-”

“We can have a more in depth conversation later. For now, I have something that may assist you in getting a normal night’s rest.” He pulls you into his chest and before you can react, the world around you is fading out and back in differently. You think it might be Alastor’s room based on the decor, the shades of red and the crackling fire across from you- then a glance to the left confirms your thought.

It’s the same woods from the dream about his mother- stars twinkle in the night sky above the tops of the trees, a gentle breeze blowing through and brushing your hair back from your forehead. Fireflies flit about in the darkness and you can hear the low buzz of mosquitos and critters rustling about. “God, it’s beautiful,” you breathe out, and Alastor chuckles beside you. “How is this supposed to help me though?”

He waves his hand, and a bed appears in the grass, inches from the barrier where the woods meets the hotel room. “This is a sort of pocket dimension. I installed it when I moved into the hotel- sometimes nothing beats the sights and sounds of the bayou after a hard day!” He gestures to it with a theatrical wave. “I believe it should suit your needs. Since it is not technically part of the hotel but a small piece of elsewhere that I’ve manifested you should be able to rest here peacefully, with no disruptions to anyone’s dreams and with no need to run yourself positively ragged trying to avoid sleep.”

“Wow! That’s so cool,” you exclaim, before blushing at your excitement. “But… does that mean I would have to sleep in here?” He cocks his head at you like the answer should be obvious. “Right. Couldn’t you just like, make one in my room?”

“I think I’d like to keep you here where I can keep an eye on you,” he says slyly. “Make sure you’re upholding your end of the deal, darling, you understand!” He places a hand on your back, pushing you gently towards the bed. He stands there watching as you hesitantly climb atop the sheets, sighing in bliss at the soft silk beneath your hands. “Rest up, dear, and we’ll talk in the morning!”

He settles himself into a chair near the fireplace, waving a hand to manifest a book in his hand. The radio flicks on, soft jazz filling the room and slipping sweetly through your brain. Snuggling into the fluffy pillow you watch him read for a few minutes before your eyes flutter shut, fading into blissful, wonderfully dreamless sleep.

new fic! ❤️❤️❤️

#alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #ao3 fanfic #alastor the radio demon #smut #alastor smut #ao3 writer #my stuff <3

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showtoonzfan · 2 years ago

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HAZBIN HOTEL - Husk redesign: Thoughts and Critiques

Well I certainly wasn’t expecting this, but Husk’s redesign has dropped. https://twitter.com/hazbinhotel/status/1542538528881606657?s=21&t=ZtN1rKELdg53UqzKh3hvsQ

Not much has changed honestly, at least physical wise but I never really expected Viv to give her characters slightly different looks, which is why I honestly get disappointed every “redesign”, because I wish there was more to them than just “we fixed it for the animators and also added more red”. I also wonder why he wasn’t hyped up, guess Viv picks favorites lol. Anyway, there’s not much to unpack, but there’s still a few things to say. For starters, and Viv…ya gatta know this, PLEASE start showing the full character’s body standing up. Vaggie and Alastor were kinda an example of this, but Husk is just worse! He’s sitting down, so the audience can’t even see the rest of his body, or a full view of his wings! It’s not that hard to show a full view of a character, you could of had him sitting in FRONT of the bar, drinking instead of behind the bar. Instead we got this and it’s lowkey frustrating. But moving on, let’s discuss the background real quick like I always do. I will admit, I like how this location mostly consists of orange and yellow colors, like…..thank GOD, a location that doesn’t consist of whites, pinks, red, or black! It’s a miracle! I will say though, I do miss the green and blue palette that was in the bar area in the pilot, those were really nice colors to look at, but…it is what it is. That reminds me, wish we would have had a full view of the bar as well but again, it is what it is. I will say I liked the old bar design better.

EDIT: While I’ve noticed the sign seems to say “Concierge” (which for those who don’t know, mainly means someone who assists the guests), I still find the idea of a bar being in a rehabilitation center being…….bad. I mean, we can clearly see that there’s alcohol behind Husk, and even the stools look that of those you see at bars. It just makes Charlie as a character and her plan seem hypocritical even more, and it doesn’t make sense on a writing standpoint. Hopefully they go with an idea similar to one that I had, where Charlie secretly let’s Husk drink outside of the guest’s view to keep him there. If it turns out there’s literally just a bar there filled with alcohol in a place Charlie is TRYING to help demons OVERCOME addictions like these, then……🤦‍♀️

Moving on to Husk’s actual design, again…not much has changed as usual. I still never really got why he was a cat in the first place, hate to be a broken record but….he’s similar to my thoughts on Stolas’s design, where’s he’s kinda just this…anthropomorphic furry rather than a “demon”, but that’s just me. Also come on Viv, you couldn’t give him a beer gut? He would have looked good with one, and it would make sense since he drinks all the time but…..nope, he’s just a twig as usual. I honestly only like 2 things about his design, the yellow eyes and teeth (cause again, it’s a nice break from red eyes), and it seems…..SEEMS that his fur tone is lighter, sort of giving off this light blackish yellow. HOWEVER, I can’t tell if that’s just the composition or not, and yeah that’s another issue. They really need to stop adding composition, just show the full bodied character with their flat colors, it would make everything so much easier. Oh, I also like the suspenders I’ll admit because…well…….50’s, but at the same time…nothing about him really screams “50’s” anyway. I have noticed that there’s a chance he’s wearing pants under, which yeah, I don’t mind if that’s true. What I DO mind is….the details. Yes, they did level down on him a lot compared to before, but he honestly still has unnecessary details, for example those freaking HEARTS on him. I’ve seen a lot of fans try to guess why he has these hearts and if it means anything, but I honestly think that once again, the fandom is over analyzing things. He clearly has them just because Viv is obsessed with them, same as she is obsessed with bow ties and stripes. Speaking of stripes, yeah…the ones on his wings don’t look good, though of course I can’t even tell how they’re supposed to work since he’s not freaking standing up! Also I’m going to be honest, I still don’t get why he has wings in the first place. He canonically doesn’t like them and barley uses them, so why give the animators more work? It feels like he has these damn things only to make him look “pretty” and nothing else. While I also tip my hat to Viv for trying to have a character’s personality reflect in their design (only for Husk tho lol), I still don’t like the polkadots and the stripes. I get he’s a….magician…… gambler polkerchip dude but….it’s better to reflect that in his personality instead of adding all these details. Hell, I don’t even SEE Husk wanting to wear a top hat and a bow tie, he seems more of the guy who would wear raggedy wrinkled stained clothes and say “Fuck that” to a bow tie, but again….that’s just me. Of course the last complaint I have is…….say it with me……..RED AND BLACK. Yeah…..it may be a small addition, but now the inside of his ear is white and red, instead of white with pink stripes. I mention this because once again as a whole, looking at him will just be a clusterfuck, because he consists of a white, red, and mainly black palette which wouldn’t you know, is mostly the same palette as the damn hotel. This is why I wish he had more orange or brown to him but he doesn’t, so I just pray to god that Husk, and all the OTHER characters as well, will look good and easy to look at regarding animation once the show comes out. I’m really REALLY worried about the entire cast just melting into the background, so we’ll have to see.

The last thing I want to say before I tune out is that I’ve realized…….Husk’s design (in general) is the design I dislike the MOST out of the entire cast. I may bitch about Sir Pen, Cherri, Alastor, and all the others, but Husk is probably the one at the bottom. Why? Well, it’s not that he’s GOD awful like the others, or his colors, but to me, it’s just that he looks so damn boring and uninteresting, I’m sorry. All he is is just a furry cat with wings, and that’s it. I hate to sound like a broken record but…..he looks NOTHING like a demon. I’ll complain about the rest of the cast but, at least they look…….weird, and at least their designs actually FEEL like they’re trying to be other worldly but……..Husk is just a cat, and that’s it. It doesn’t matter if he has wings, or has glowing eyes and symbols, he’s just a cat, and that’s what turns me off. So I can’t say he’s the WORST, but he’s the most boring to me, yes….even more boring than Charlie’s design. I wish Viv did a whole lot more with him, same for all the damn characters because let’s be honest, all these designs aren’t “redesigns” at all, they’re just the bare minimum with slight tweaks for the animators, and it’s honestly disappointing to see every time that NOTHING changes for these characters.

But….as you all know, at the very end of the day, as long as the WRITING is good, I’m good. I still have doubts, but we’ll have to see, because if the writing is good, then the experience will be good regardless. Fill free to disagree with me on anything stated above, if you love it and love the show, I can’t take that away from you, and your opinions are valid! Thank you for reading, and I’ll see you next time! 👋💕

#vivziepop critical #spindlehorse critical #vivziepop #anti vivziepop #hazbin hotel critical #vivienne medrano #hazbin hotel #Hazbin hotel husk #hazbin hotel redesign #Hazbin hotel husk redesign #hazbin hotel critique #Hazbin hotel criticism #vivziepop art critique #vivziepop criticism #character design critique

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prettyboypucey · 3 years ago

Text

Weird ~ G.W.

Summary: George is gorgeous. Charlie is a meddler. The snow is cold. (this summary sucks...just read it)

Pairing: George Weasley x Y/N

Word Count: 2,404 (who do I think I am?)

Warnings: mentions of bullying. mentions of food/eating. george is unknowingly triggering? reader cries. idk? let me know if i missed something.

A/N: part 2? maybe? translations are for romanian via google translate. do not come for me if they are hella wrong.

Translations: draga - darling; dragoste - love; tampit - stupid

I had never been normal. From the time I was a toddler I had stars in my eyes and dirt on my knees. While the other kids in my grade were playing with dolls and dressing respectably, I was riding imaginary dragons and wearing mismatched socks with dungarees and a butterfly headband. Normalcy evaded me even further when at 11 years old, I got a letter declaring me a witch.

When I first came to Hogwarts I spent the majority of my time alone. It appeared that even children who could wave a stick around and makes things fly wanted nothing to do with the colorful little girl. Meeting Luna Lovegood in my second year was the best thing that had ever happened to me. Here was a girl who allowed me to be exactly who I was with no judgments. And then she introduced me to Neville Longbottom and Ginny Weasley, and suddenly that little girl who thought her only friends would always be the rocks she painted faces on, had found her people.

Of course, being friends with Ginny Weasley meant knowing her many brothers. So after graduation when I went off to Romania to work with dragons it made me feel slightly better knowing Charlie Weasley would be there. He quickly took me under his wing and became the older brother figure I had never had. After working together for three years, and electing to stay at the sanctuary for the last two over the holidays, he had finally convinced me to come home with him. I was reluctant to leave the sanctuary - the one place I truly feel safe (despite the massive fire breathing creatures).

Charlie had warned me that being with one or two of the Weasleys was very different from being with the entire Weasley clan. Obviously I knew Charlie and Ginny, Ron had always been nice to me, and I had met Molly a handful of times in passing. However, Bill was known to be quite intimidating, Percy was supposedly very no-nonsense, and the twins (albeit never cruel) had a reputation of being hell-raisers.

Apparating to the edge of a marsh with Charlie by my side I could see the rising structure haphazardly balanced slightly ahead.

Pausing, I glanced at the back of the familiar red covered head, “I don’t know Charles, maybe I should just go back. I really don’t want to be a burden.”

Charlie very quickly rounded behind me to continue guiding me towards his home, “No, no, no, no, no. No. You’re not a burden to anyone draga. Keep your head up and if any of them give you grief - remind them of the giant, winged beasts you can feed them to.”

Quickly placing a kiss to the side of my head Charlie bounded ahead again to open the door and announce your arrival. Before I could toe off the first boot to leave next to the dozen other pairs in the entryway, a pair of arms had flung around my neck.

“Y/N! I missed you so much!”, Ginny pulled back, keeping her grip on my shoulders, to inspect for any major injuries.

I held onto her elbows, keeping her close, “Hi Gin, I missed you too. A lot. I’m loving this new look by the way.”

She reached up to brush the now short locks behind her ears. A grin on her face as the two of us looked the other over for the first time in months. Ginny was wrapped in a pretty baby pink sweater with shades of red and white running through it. The material was soft against my palm as I hooked it around her crooked elbow to follow her into the living area.

“You know”, she started, “I was starting to think maybe Charlie had let you get eaten or burnt to a crisp in the land of dragons. It’s been so long since you’ve come to see me or left the sanctuary.”

“I’m sorry Ginny. It’s just that after everything, I had to keep myself busy.”

Ginny’s smile softened into one of understanding. The war had taken a part of all of us. Although Fred had recovered after many months, that fear of almost losing such a vital part of their family had rocked the entire Weasley family to its core.

“I get it, I do, but I worry about you. I just want you to know you’re not alone Y/N.”

I pulled the girl into another tight hug, “I know.”

Ginny pulled away first, clearing her throat, “Okay! Now that’s out of the way - it’s time to introduce the one and only Y/N L/N to the Weasley’s.”

I hummed, “Hmmm and which of us should be more scared?”

“Oh definitely the Weasleys.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

Meeting the Weasley family had gone much better than expected.

Molly had opened her arms and home to me as if I was one of her own children. By the time the night was over she had me stuffed full of warm food and drink and donning my very own coveted Weasley sweater, the lavender initial in the middle marking it as my own. Arthur had been very interested in my muggle parents and upbringing, questioning me about the functions of a rubber duck. Bill and his wife Fleur were the most stunning couple I have ever seen, and not nearly as intimidating as people portrayed them. Fleur was pleased when she found out I spoke a bit of conversational French and promised to have me over to Shell Cottage (apparently they have an amazing collection of wind chimes that I am dying to see). Percy was a bit more refined. Completely polite and friendly but he seemed reserved. Ginny had explained in one of her letters how much guilt Percy carried after the Battle of Hogwarts over how he had behaved in the years leading up to that day.

The twins were much different than I remembered them being from the few times we were around each other in school. The physical differences were clear - George’s missing ear and Fred’s dragging limp were both signs of the prices they paid in the war. More than that however, they had matured greatly. They were still happy and made sure to pull at least two pranks over the night, poor Molly nearly lost her voice after they blew up the turkey. However, there was something in their eyes that had been dimmed. Especially in George.

His twin almost died that night, and it reflected in George’s eyes each time he looked at his older brother. It was clear that he was still afraid because whenever Fred left a room George followed, never letting his brother out of his sight, and if he happened to lose track of him a panic began to swirl in his brown orbs.

I was in the middle of watching as George yet again made his way to Fred’s side, clapping a large hand on his twins shoulder and throwing his head back in laughter.

“So which one are you staring at dragoste?”, Charlie whispered as he appeared out of nowhere.

I ignored the burning in my cheeks as I looked away from the scene in front of me.

“I am not staring at either of them tampit.”

“Mhmm, sure, absolutely, I believe you.”, after a quick pause he said, “It’s George isn’t it?”

I turned and scoffed at him, “No!… How did you know?”

Charlie let out a chuckle, “Because I know you my little dragon. I also know my brother, and just between us, he definitely likes you as well.”

At this I let out an incredulous laugh and glanced back to where George was now telling a story, his hands moving animatedly. There was no way that George Weasley had even a remote attraction to me. He was kind, strong, clever, and so bloody gorgeous it truly was a privilege to look at him. And I am…me. Nothing special. Just a girl who had more dragon friends than human ones and whose hands were covered in scars and callouses and whose socks never matched and had never even kissed a man before. So no, there was no way that George Weasley would ever like me.

“Hey. I know that look Y/N. Stop those thoughts right this bloody second.”

“Charles it really is annoying when you read me like that.”

Throwing his arm over my shoulder he began to lead me towards the twins, “Yes I know and I am sorry in advance but this needs to be done. Fred!”

Charlie’s voice had gone from a rushed whisper to a jovial shout when we reached George, Fred, and Ron by the fireplace. George’s smile as he turned to look at us sent a million butterflies off in my tummy.

“So Freddy, I was hoping you could help me out with a top secret project tomorrow for mum and maybe show me around the joke shop. I heard you added some new displays that I want to check out.”

“Sure Charlie”, Fred glanced at George as he spoke, “I’m sure we can make some time for our favorite brother.”

Ignoring Rons protest, Charlie gripped my shoulders and pushed me in front of him, “Actually George I was thinking you could stay here and show Y/N around the area. She mentioned wanting to talk a walk tomorrow and I would hate to disappoint her on her first Christmas out of the sanctuary.”

“Um-”

I interrupted the rejection coming from George, “No please, I would hate to be a bother and make you be stuck with me all day. I’m sure Ginny can take me.”

George smiled and shook his head, “No it’s completely fine Y/N. I would be happy to show you around.”

“Okay great! It’s settled then!”, Charlie looked rather too pleased with himself and obviously missed the look exchanged by his identical younger brothers.

~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning the Burrow was a flurry of movement as everyone began their day. Apparently Charlie and Fred weren’t the only ones on their way out. The others still had some last minute gift shopping to do and Ron was spending the day with Hermione’s muggle family. After breakfast, a quick wink from Charlie, and a slam of the front door - George and I were alone in the house.

The two of us stood facing one another in the living room for a few awkward moments before George spoke, “Well, um, did you want to head out as well?”

“Oh sure! Yes, let me just grab my boots really quickly.”

George led me out the door and onto the snow covered path towards the small, iced over river. Nothing was said for a while, the only sound was the crunch of snow under our boots and the occasional sniffle from one of our red noses. I was mentally imagining all the ways I was going to kick Charlie’s ass when he got back for suggesting a walk in the middle of winter when we came to the top of a hill and stopped.

Everything as far as the eye could see was blanketed in sheets of white. Stomping my boots down into the fresh snow, I couldn’t help the giggle that escaped as the snow gave way underfoot. Feeling a pair of eyes on me I remembered that I wasn’t alone and turned to see George watching me with an unidentifiable look on his face.

“Sorry, sorry. That was - I don’t know why I did that. I liked the feeling of the crunch of the snow I guess. Sorry.”

George grinned, “You don’t have to apologize. It was cute.”

I could feel my face flush at his words. His smile grew even wider at the sight of my heated face. My gaze dropped from his pretty face down to my boots. I could feel the thick socks I had on beginning to grow cold and wet from how long we’d been outside. Looking back up I could see George’s deep eyes glaze over. Assuming it was because he had been apart from Fred so long I glanced out at the view one last time before turning back the way we came.

“We should probably get back. We’ve been gone a while and my toes are getting wet. I feel bad enough that Charlie forced you to do this anyways without you getting frostbite or something. I’ve had frostbite, it’s not fun. And now I’m rambling. I’m sorry. Sorry”

George was shaking his head at me and said, “You are so weird.”

Ouch. My chest tightened and the small smile I had been wearing dropped from my face. If I had been able to see past the tears forming in my eyes that were making my sight blurry, I would have seen George’s face do the same. Unfortunately, all I could focus on was that word. Weird. Strange. Abnormal. Freak.

Weird weird weird.

The walk back was silent. A thick tension surrounded you both as thick snow flurries began to swirl down in the midmorning air. Just as thick was the lump forming in my throat as I fought back tears. I know I shouldn’t let his words affect me. He’s just some guy. But deep down I also know that he’s not just some guy. This is George fricking Weasley. With his stupid perfect face and gorgeous eyes and his loyalty to his family. I couldn’t help but be enamored with him from the moment I walked in the Weasley’s front door. So it hurt to hear the man I liked call me that nasty word that has haunted me my entire life.

When we finally reached the Burrow, George tried to reach for my arm but I pulled away and ran into the house. I could hear that some of the others had returned and really wanted to avoid a confrontation. Once again, luck wasn’t on my side. Charlie came walking out of the kitchen and saw me in the entryway. His face immediately became concerned at the sight of me and he lowered the sandwich he had from his mouth.

“Draga?”, Charlie’s voice followed me as I finally reached the stairs and launched upstairs.

As I reached the first landing I heard him speak again, his voice rough and hard.

“What did you do?”

#george weasley #george weasley imagine #george weasley x reader #george weasley angst #george weasley fluff #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter writing #harry potter imagine #hp imagine #charlie weasley #charlie weasley x platonic!reader #charlie weasley imagine #hp #harry potter

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marvelslut16 · 4 years ago

Text

Idiots in love

Pairing: William ‘Bill’ Weasley x reader

Synopsis: (Y/N) has been in love with Bill ever since she met him their first year at Hogwarts. Will she finally tell Bill how she feels, like Mrs. Weasley hopes she will, or will Fleur and Ginny’s assumptions about (Y/N)’s love life get in the way.

Word count: 2.9k+

Warnings: Angst. Dumb asses pining after each other. Fleur, if she counts lmao. Brief mentions of death.

A/N: This has been sitting in my drafts for months, I wrote it as a self indulgent piece since I can’t date Bill in Hogwarts Mystery and I wasn’t sure if anyone would actually read it. It's cannon divergent. Also, tell me if you want a part 2!

My first fic of the new year! Hopefully I'll be way more consistent and inspired this year. Thank you to everyone reading any of the fics I write, I love you all!

“Molly, he’s happy with her,” you roll your eyes at the older woman who had become like a mother to you over the years.

You met her at Kings Cross Station the morning of your first year, she helped you cross the barrier, your parents are muggles who are afraid of anything different. You were in Bill’s year, the two of you becoming fast friends on the train ride. Through your years at Hogwarts you two became inseparable, both becoming Head Girl and Head Boy together. You two always studied together, explored the castle together, went to Hogsmeade together, you did everything together. Well, except one thing, you didn’t fall in love together; you fell for him, and he fell for that foul, loathsome Emily Tyler and now Fleur Delacour.

You spent almost every Christmas Holiday under the burrow’s roof, along with most of your summers. The burrow was your real home, and the Weasley’s were your family. After you and Bill had graduated Molly and Arthur insisted you use their first names, both convinced you and Bill would finally get together. But that didn’t happen, you both went separate ways, barely even owling over the years. He went on to be this fantastic cursebreaker for Gringotts, getting sent all the way to Egypt. And you, you became the astronomy professor at Hogwarts, you thrived in the subject and Professor Sinistra transferred to Uagadou.

“But you’re perfect for him,” Molly nags. You loved the women with your whole heart, but she really needed to learn when to drop matters of the heart. Especially when the topic of discussion was set to arrive soon.

“Not everything works out how we want it to,” you sigh as you hand her a clean dish to dry, you had wanted to clean the dishes the muggle way. “Especially when it involves one's heart.”

The two of you are waiting for everyone to arrive, Arthur is picking the kids up from the train now that it’s summer holiday. You had apparated to the burrow after the students boarded the train, now officially a part of the Order. Dumbledore and Sirius are dead, but that just means that everyone needs to fight harder.

“I just want you to be happy,” Molly’s eyes are soft and sad as she looks at you.

“I am,” you smile through the lie. There’s a pop from the living room, assuming it’s just Charlie you continue. “I don’t need a man Molly, my students make me happy.”

“Mum,” the unmistakable voice of William Weasley calls as he walks towards the kitchen. “I have great news, Fleur and I are engaged! We want to get married this summer!”

You accidentally drop the plate you're washing back into the soapy water, causing some to splash your shirt. For a split second you see Molly’s face fall before she puts on a bright fake smile as she turns to her eldest. You refuse to turn and see him, you thought you had enough time to prepare yourself to see him again, but you didn’t. He refused to see you after he got hurt during the battle of the astronomy tower when he was in the hospital wing and ignored you in the few weeks following.

“Oh, wow,” Molly tries to come up with a response that won’t upset him. “This quickly?”

“I can’t take the chance, not now,” his mood is hard to read from his voice. He almost seems too defensive when he responds. “Not with everything happening.”

Your heart stops its thumping for a second, you didn’t realize it would hurt this much to see him happy. You want more than anything for him to be happy, but you also know that his mother and sister will never approve of Fleur. And he’ll never be fully happy because of that. But maybe you're wrong, maybe you don’t really know him. Maybe you never did.

“I can’t believe I signed up for bloody astronomy again,” you can hear Ron complain through the open window before Molly can respond.

“You know you love me,” you holler out the window as Ron and Ginny get closer to the house. They’re the only two at Hogwarts now, they’re growing up so fast.

“Yeah, yeah professor,” he mutters as he walks through the door before grinning widely at you.

Even though you had seen Ginny hours ago, the younger girl runs up to you and throws her arms around you. You laugh as she pulls back and makes a face as some of the soap suds transferred to her shirt.

“You just saw (Y/N),” Ron rolls his eyes at Ginny’s actions.

“Yeah but that’s different,” Ginny defends. “At Hogwarts I can’t talk to her about boys, or eat dinner with her, or ask for Quidditch tips.”

“I’m always up for talking about boys,” you grin down at the red headed girl. You laugh and apologize to Molly as Ginny pulls you from the kitchen and up to her room.

You don’t glance at Bill, you can’t. You’re too scared that all of the feeling you have bottled up will resurface with just one glance. You miss the way his eyes soften at your interaction with his sister, and how they trail after you as you get pulled past him. You sit with Ginny as she fawns over Harry for close to an hour, interjecting occasionally when she asks for your opinion. This is what you always imagined having a younger sister would feel like.

“What about you?” she asks with a teasing tone in her voice.

“What about me?” you laugh lightly as your eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“You and professor Snape,” she’s smirking.

“Severus?” you laugh before your face pulls into a disgusted look only Ginny can see. “We’re coworkers. Dare I say friends. And he’s a part of the Order, we have to at least tolerate each other.”

“Mhm,” she sounds unconvinced. “He smiled at you the other day! In the Great Hall, where people could see! He never smiles!”

“Ginny, we’re friends,” you try to get through to the stubborn teen. “Plus he’s known me since I was eleven, that would be gross.”

Before Ginny can respond there’s a knock on the open door, you turn around and see Bill for this first time in years. His red hair still falls to his shoulders, and he still has that fang hanging from his ear. There are scars down his cheek now, those and the fang make him look bad ass. Your heart stutters as your eyes meet his, the heartache that disappeared when you were gossiping with Ginny resurfaces with just one look.

“Dinners ready,” he says before turning and walking back down the stairs.

Dinner is loads of fun, the two eldest Weasley’s joining the group since there’s a small Order meeting afterwards. Dinner is full of Charlie joking with you, something you're happy about since Ginny wouldn’t be able to bring up Severus again. You ignore the giggles and the French accent that poke holes in your heart as Bill only pays attention to Fleur, who showed up at the Burrow when you were upstairs.

After dinner you agree to show Ron and Ginny some Quidditch moves you had picked up over the years, borrowing an old broom left behind by one of the other boys. Remus and Tonks appear in the front yard, signaling that the meeting would start momentarily. Ron thanks you as he continues to practice the moves as you fly to the ground. Ginny follows you, wanting to get a drink from the kitchen before it's closed off to the youngest two.

“Are you going to take his last name, or is he going to take yours?” she teases.

“Ginny, not now,” you sigh, not sure how to get it through her head that you have no feeling for the potions master without revealing that you’re in love with her oldest brother. You aren’t sure who’s worse, her or Molly.

“Alright, whatever you say Mrs. Snape,” Ginny wiggles her brows in your direction as you head for the kitchen.

“Mrs. Snape?” Severus’s monotonous voice comes from behind you two. Ginny’s eyes widen before she takes off running, and a strangled sound leaves your lips.

“Ginevra Molly Weasley, that’s a month of detention next year!” you yell after her. You take a breath before turning to stare into Snape’s obsidian eyes. “Ginny saw you laugh at my stupid joke in the Great Hall a few weaks ago and now she’s convinced you have feelings for me.” Severus raises his eyebrows at you before looking in the direction Ginny ran off in. “She’s just a kid Sev, don’t hold her delusions against her.”

“Weasley’s,” he mutters before heading to the kitchen himself. Dumbledore had told a select few in the Order the plans for Severus to kill him so Draco didn’t have to, and since the Headmaster was already dying nobody was as mad as expected. “Don’t you have feelings for the oldest one?”

“Be quiet!” you hiss, as look to make sure no one heard. He smirks before walking into the room where the meeting is to be held, leaving you standing confused in the hallway.

The meeting is small tonight; Remus, Tonks, Charlie, Molly, Arthur, Sev, yourself, Bill, and Fleur. The rest had prior engagements unfortunately, so it was essentially just family and Severus.

Molly uses her magic to pour you a glass of tea as you sit beside Sev, the only open seat. You smile a quick thanks before lifting the cup to your lips. The warm liquid soothing your tired throat, students liked to talk over you during the last week of school so your throat was a little raw.

“Do you want a cookie with that, love?” Snape’s monotonous voice is slightly louder than it normally is. The term of endearment comes as such a shock that you spit out the tea that's in your mouth, landing across the table on Fleur.

There was no denying that Severus’s question was directed at you, he’s holding the plate full of Molly’s cookies right next to your face. The room goes deathly silent as the seconds pass by. Ginny, who was getting herself some pumpkin juice, drops the glass she was holding, it shatters when it hits the ground. Molly, Arthur, and Charlie abruptly stop their conversation to stare at you and Sev in shock. Remus furrows his eyebrows as he looks between you two, Tonks looks like she's holding back a laugh. A flash of pain seems to cross Bill’s face before it goes blank, and horror crosses Fleur’s when your tea lands on her.

“I’m so sorry!” you cover your mouth, thankful the liquid wasn’t warm enough to burn. Bill doesn’t even turn to look at his fiancee, just stares at you.

“Are you alright?” Snape has a small smile only you can see. You aren’t sure how to respond, especially as you stare at the amusement dancing in his onyx eyes.

“I knew it!” Ginny yells, finally breaking the few seconds of silence, seconds that felt like years. You flick Sev’s leg under the table, and he has the audacity to grin larger.

“Thanks honey,” your eyes narrow slightly as you grab a cookie off the plate, passing it to Bill without looking away from the man in all black.

The rest of the meeting is awkward, and as soon as it’s over you pull Sev out of his chair and outside. The cool night air cools your burning cheeks and he lets out a laugh that he had been holding in.

“What was that?” you pull at the ends of your hair.

“We made your precious Weasley jealous,” even though he’s smirking, there’s no change in his inflection.

“And now they all think we’re together!” your voice is high pitched and squeaky.

“Good luck with that,” he disapparates before you can respond.

“I hate you!” you yell at the spot where Severus was just standing.

“You and Snape, huh?” Charlie’s voice cuts through the silent night.

“Not bloody likely,” you roll your eyes, before plopping onto the ground. Charlie joins you as you lay and stare up at the stars. “He heard Ginny saying she thought he liked me, and he knows who I like, so he decided to run with it. He’s actually fun when you break through his cold exterior.”

“You still love Bill,” it isn’t a question. No matter how many times you denied it while you three went to school together, Charlie never believed you.

“Yeah,” you sigh, turning to look at him. He’s already facing you so you continue, “your mum kept going on about how I should be the one with him this afternoon. She won’t drop it.”

“I love my brother,” Charlie makes sure you keep eye contact with him as he continues. “But he’s being stupid. I agree with mum, you should be the one marrying him.”

“He’s happy without me,” your voice comes out sadder than you thought it would, guard finally down. “We’ve barely talked in years, and he wouldn’t even let me see him after the attack. He doesn’t need me, nor does he want me in his life anymore.”

Charlie just sighs, annoyed that neither you nor Bill could see the truth starring you both in the face. You love each other. Charlie just lies next to you in comforting silence, staring at the night sky until he has to head back to Romania and you off to bed.

A single tear slips down your cheek as you lay down in the bed that once belonged to Charlie. Ginny enters the room without knocking, and you quickly wipe away the tear.

“Why didn’t you tell me!” she practically screams.

“There’s nothing to tell, he was messing with you, Gin,” you look her directly in the eyes so she knows you aren’t lying.

“What aren’t you telling me?” she sits beside you on the mattress.

“I’m in love with Bill,” you whisper, finally saying the words out loud. Sure you had agreed with Charlie earlier, but you had never said the five words out loud before. It feels like a weight is lifted off your chest, until a new wave of heartache hits you. “I have been since we were in school, and it hurts Ginny. Fleur, she’s perfect, I couldn’t possibly compete with her.”

“You’re so much better than her, (Y/N),” Ginny grabs your hand, causing you to look up at her. “And he’s a fool if he doesn’t see that.”

“Thanks Gin,” you smile sadly, squeezing her hand before she heads off to her room.

“Zank you,” Fleur’s French accent is the first thing you hear in the morning. Ginny comes up behind you as you stand in the hallway, and puts her hand on your shoulder. Today is the day you forget about all of this foolish childish love you have for Bill.

Molly watches you closely as you sit down at the breakfast table, Ginny plopping down beside you. As you talk to the young girl about Quidditch over breakfast, a black owl flies through an open window. You roll your eyes as it plops a letter beside you, you give the owl some of your toast before it flies out of the window again. Ginny looks over your shoulder as you open the letter, the rest of the Weasley’s not-so-secretly watch you read it.

The letter isn’t anything special, just Severus letting you know that you had left a book at Hogwarts. You know full well he’s being his dramatic self, going out of his way to send an owl, just so he can say he was right. He even added a p.s, asking if Bill had gotten jealous yet. You laugh at the ridiculous question, causing Bill to excuse himself and walk outside. Fleur doesn’t move from her seat, causing you and Ginny to make a face at each other.

A few moments pass before you decide to follow your old best friend against your better judgment, but someone should check on him. He’s in the backyard pacing like a madman, running his hands through his long hair and pulling on the tips.

“Bill?” you ask softly. He whips around and looks at you, once again his face is hard to read. Your eyes, however, soften as soon as they see what Fenrier Greyback did to him. “What’s wrong?”

“You and Snape?” his voice is hard and cold. “He hated us growing up, and you just pretended that never happened and you're with him? He hated you!”

“It’s none of your business William!” your voice is high pitched, you’re angry. He doesn’t talk to you in ages and now all of a sudden he thinks it’s okay to judge your relationships. “We were annoying kids back then, of course he hated us.”

“You could do better than him!” his anger seems to rise at the use of his full first name.

“We’re just friends!” your voice is shrill, and you're sure everyone inside can hear you two clearly. “Not that it’s any of your business anyway! Severus was letting me know I forgot some of my belongings at Hogwarts. You have no right to judge who I choose to spend my time with and who I befriend, not when you haven’t tried to talk to me in years Bill!”

With that you turn and head away from the burrow, not wanting to face anyone right now. Especially any of the Weasley's, and most of all, Molly. Bill calls your name as you walk away from him, but you don’t turn around. You can’t. William Weasley has broken your heart multiple times since you met him, and you aren’t about to give him the satisfaction of watching himself break your heart all over again.

Part 2

Permanent tags: @crimson-knuckled-queen @rexorangecouny @mrs-malfoy-always

#bill weasley x reader #bill weasley #bill weasley x y/n #bill weasley x mc #william weasley #william bill weasley #harry potter fanfiction #bill weasley x you #harry potter #harry potter imagine #bill weasley one shot #bill weasley imagine #bill weasley fanfiction

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beef-brisket · 2 months ago

Note

Lucifer had no idea what to say. He panicked seeing Adam dead last night. For a moment, he thought Adam found the blade again. But starvation? He didn't even realize that Adam hadn't been coming down for food. He was surprised no one brought him up anything. He honestly expected that no one would want to, but Charlie would have at least brought something up, right?

When Adam died during the extermination, Lucifer didn't even have time to really process it. After beating the shit out of Adam, his life and wellbeing wasn't really his biggest concern at that moment. But when he saw him on his bed, not moving under his massive wing, he didn't know what to think.

The way he called for him when he woke up after those nightmares, calling for Luci, he just got overwhelmed when he realized Adam was dead. Again. He probably shouldn't have been holding him, but he couldn't lose him again.

Lucifer stared at Adam while he yelled, he could hear the exhaustion.

Lucifer: I-I won't leave you, Adam-

Adam: bullshit- the last time you said that, you fucking left me-

Lucifer: not this time, Adam. I'm not leaving

Adam still pulled away from him, but Lucifer held on tighter. He could feel how weak he was. Dying from starvation in Hell was one of the worst ways to go. When you heal, you're still hungry, still weak, and most aren't able to even get themselves up to get something to eat. It's just a horrible, endless cycle.

Adam: why!? You left when I didn't want you to- and now you won't leave when you should just fuck off! D-do you know what it was like after you left Eden?! No-no one came to see me- for fucking months! You didn't come back for me- but you came back for her! It's never me- I'm never the first fucking choice- get the fuck off me, Lucifer! Stop touching me-!

Lucifer: I won't let you go, Adam. I care for you, I swear- I know I haven't shown it, but I do

Adam: j-just stop touching me-

Lucifer held tight, until Adam stopped trying to force his arms open. He did slowly release his grip as he felt Adam start shaking and close in on himself. He wasn't dying, but he was weakening. He was working himself up, so Lucifer eventually did let go.

Lucifer: Adam... please, I care about you

Adam: ...you came for her... you left for her... you killed me... you broke me... I know I'm not... beautiful like them- but I tried... I wanted to look like them, so you'd like me again... I tried

Lucifers heart hurt listening to Adams rambles. He wasn't being coherent, even though he was direction his words at Lucifer, he felt like he wasn't being spoken to.

Lucifer: Adam... you're perfect-

Adam: n-no... not then, not now... I'm flawed... I'm nothing... angels wanted another man... for Eve... but then Eve... betrayed Heaven... I was good enough for her then... she didn't need a new man... she could keep me...

Lucifer had no idea the Angels wanted to make another man. Adam was perfect, he still was. Adam was loyal to fault in Eden, and after he died.

Lucifer: why would they want a new man, Adam?

Adam: I was alone... I broke... they don't want a broken man to start humanity... fucking funny, isn't? I go on and on about being the first man, like I'm fucking prideful about it... it's all I have... a title... that doesn't mean anything, to anyone... I nearly lost it... yet it's all I am... all I'll ever be...

Lucifer slowly hugged Adam again. This time, he let Lucifer hold him. Maybe he was too tired to fight him off? Lucifer didn't know. All he did know was that he hated hearing about Eden, especially in this light. He had no idea the angels were going to get rid of Adam, Eve biting the apple saved him. Lucifer saved him. But not in the way Adam needed.

Lucifer: i-im... so sorry, Adam. I wasn't there for you, and I should have been. I was still your angel- please let me help you... I don't want you dying again- please... let me get you something to eat...

Adam: ...I let myself go... I'm okay, I can handle it...

Lucifer: no- no, I lied Adam, I didn't mean what I said that day- prince of lies, right? I won't leave you Adam, not this time, please let me help you...

Adam didn't move or say anything. Lucifer hoped he was just thinking. After a minute, he looked down and saw his golden eyes were lifeless. Again. Lucifer couldn't stop the tears this time. He wasn't going to leave him, he'll be here when he woke up.

How the fuck did he get this bad? How was he this mentally damaged? Did Heaven not see what was going on with him? Then again, during their meeting with Sera, she was pretty cold toward Adam.

Sera: I knew you weren't good enough for Heaven, and this just proves it.

Adam: m-mom- please! I did what you wanted- the exterminations- i did it all-!

Sera: you went against the contract. You'll rot there Adam, just like you should have when you died on earth.

Lucifer was actually a bit shocked at how harsh Sera was to Adam, she wasn't like that before, but at the time, fuck. He fucking laughed, didn't he? Sera was still standing there, didn't even offer him a glance. Not even while he was laughing at Adam.

He really was horrible, wasn't he? But he fucking deserved it- he attacked Charlie! And all of Pride for a few thousand years! He deserved it.

Didn't he?

He needed to get Adam ready for when he woke up. He'll need to eat straight away. But Lucifer couldn't move. Couldn't stop staring into his eyes. Even though he was dead, Lucifer could still see the last of his tears run down his face.

He didn't want to let go, not even to sit Adam up. Maybe a few more minutes, he had time. He'll find a way to stop his hurting. He owed him more than that, but this will be the start.

Lucifer kissed the top of Adam's head, using his hand to push his hair and antenna off his face.

Even as a moth, Adam was still as beautiful as that sunny morning in Eden, when Lucifer first lay eyes on him.

Moth!Adam having a nightmare! This takes place a few days after arriving in Hell.

@fanofstuff01 MOTH ADAM

---

Charlie: Hey, dad? Could you go get Adam up? He's going to miss out on the group activity!

Lucifer: Honey, if he isn't even going to put I the effort, he shouldn't be here!

Charlie: dad- please, he's only just got here. This is a big change for him. Can you just go wake him?

Lucifer reluctantly agreed and made his way to Adams bedroom. Charlie put him on a floor that had no other members, thinking it would help him get use to things.

Arriving at Adam's door, Lucifer smiled. He decided to take the opportunity to scare Adam. It was almost Halloween, after all.

Lucifer walked softly to the top of Adam's bed. He could see his antennas flicking about. Ljcifer stood by his head for a few minutes, waiting for the perfect opportunity to scare him.

Adam: mm- no, stop... don't leave... please don't leave...

Lucifer chuckled. It must have been some popr winner in Heaven Adam was talking about.

Adam: L-Lu... please stay- pick me, please... don't leave... p-please choose me-

Lucifer stopped laughing and stared at the man. Oh... it was Eden he was having a nightmare about. Shit. He backed away as Adam started to thrash, his wings unfurling.

Lucifer had no idea no idea what to do. The poor guy even started crying. He decided to wake him up. Lucifer couldn't watch Adam cry and grip his blankets. It hurt too much.

Lucifer: Adam... ADAM-!

Lucifer reached over to shake his shoulder but jumped and teleported out of reach of Adam and his wings when Adam suddenly shot up, breathing hard.

Lucifer wasn't too familiar with Moth demons, he only knew of Valentino, and even then, he hadn't had many interactions with him, so he wasn't too sure how good Adams' eye slight was.

Adam: Luci...?

Lucifers eyes widened at the nickname- and the way Adam said it. It reminded him of Eden. Adam sounded so desperate and hopeful. Hopeful that Lucifer was there with him, that his nightmare wasn't true.

Lucifer wasn't sure if he wanted to say anything, he hadn't noticed him yet. That was until he noticed Adam looking around the room, eyes landing on Lucifer.

He felt like he should say something. So he waves and smiles, but just as he's about to say something, he heard Adam choke out a sob and bury his head in his hands, his lower arms wrapped around his thin torso.

Adam: t-thats right... you hate me... why would you be here...?

Lucifers heart broke. He didn't hate Adam. He was an asshole sometimes and a bastard for attacking his daughter, but he didn't hate him. He felt like he should, but he couldn't.

After a few minutes of crying, Adam tried to find his phone. Lucifer could see it on the side table, so he made the phone float in front of his hand. Adam didn't notice the magic, but found his phone. He squinted until his eyes were met with the bright light.

Adam grounded when he saw the time. He was really late now.

Adam: ...fuck it... they don't want me there, anyway... s-should have j-just stayed d-dead

Lucifer stood in the corner of Adam's room for 20 minutes. All he did was hug his pillow and cry. He could tell Adam was tired, but he couldn't fall back asleep.

He never knew how depressed Adam was. But then again, he'd never a good conversation with Adam since he got here. Lucifer really took the opportunity to get as much payback as possible now that he had a contract with him.

He wonders if all of this started when he called him an unlovable piece of shit, that not even the scumiest angels wanted. He knew he overstepped, judging by the look on his face and the lack of response.

For the next week, Lucifer stood in Adams room before he went to sleep and before he woke up. It was always the same: Adam would cry himself to sleep, and he'd have a nightmare about being abandoned and wake up shaking, covered in tears in the morning.

As Lucifer was in his room this night, he was hoping it would be different. Adam was with Angel for most of the day and seemed to be happier. But as soon as Adam sat on the edge of his bed, he knew it wasn't going to be a good night. It was actually about to get a lot worse.

Adam started crying as soon as he closed and locked his door. Fiddling with something in his pocket. Lucifer could see him playing with something as he sat on the edge of the bed.

It wasn't until Adam sat up straight that Lucifer saw it was the angelic needle Nifty originally used to kill him. Where the fuck did he find that!?

Lucifer really didn't plan to get involved when it came to his night watching, but Adam pressed the blade against his scar from the original attack, and start to push in far enough for his dark red blood to start welling up and running down his chest.

Lucifer: NO-!

Lucifer jumped into action. Snapping the blade out of his hands and placing it in Lucifer's hands.

Adam instantly jumped and looked around. Lucifer could see the pain in his big, golden eyes.

Adam: L-Luci-fer... Luci... ?

Lucifer couldn't bring himself to say anything as Adam looked around. He covered his mouth as he felt a tear fall. Adams eyes locked him his. Shit.

Adam: ...please...? Luci?

Lucifer squeezed his eyes shut.

Adam: Not even allowed to finish the job, huh...? I'm just g-giving them what they w-want...

He opened them slowly, and he heard the rustling of Adam's blankets.

That night was worse.

So much worse.

Lucifer has never seen Adam look so small even at his towering height of 11". Adam curled up, hugging a pillow as tightly as he can.

Adam cried to himself all night. He didn't fall asleep at all. Just cried and begged for Lucifer. For it all to end.

Lucifer finally learned how good Adams eye site was. Hed often looked directly at him but saw nothing.

All night, Lucifer just gripped the angelic blade and stood still all night, hoping Adam wouldn't hear his sobbing.

Dude my fucking heart 😭

Adam knew Lucifer was there, he had to be. Blades just don't evaporate out of your fucking hand.

Why couldn't he just let Adam die for good? Lucifer didn't even want him here, nobody did. Sure he started getting along well with Angel but big deal.

Other than height being a moth demon was fucking stupid. He could barely see! He even had to have the largest print enabled on his phone so he could see to use it.

Adam ran out of tears quickly, he was dehydrated from it and he wasn't exactly drinking water to put anything back.

Lucifer never wanted him, so why not just let Adam go? To torture him probably.

Oh look, Adam did still have some tears to cry.

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steele-soulmate · 2 years ago

Text

Tattooed Wings, CHAPTER 42, Peter Steele & OFC, Soulmate AU

SUMMARY: Mary Claire Bradley meets her soulmate- literally- the famous Peter Steele of metal group Type O Negative. But will obstacles including trauma, stalkers, and toxic family members get in the way of their life?

STORY WARNINGS: mentions of child rape (nothing graphic) PTSD, milk kink, soft smut, grinding, assault, fingering

First rewritten reworking 06/20/2023

Second rewritten reworking 10/25/2024

CHAPTER WORD COUNT: 1766

A NOTE FROM THE AUTHORESS:

Today (September 4th, 2022) is my 30th birthday!

“Hihi Charlie!” I greeted my therapist with a wobblily smile. Peter sat beside me on my bed, our backs pressed up against the headboard and our legs all tangled together.

“Hi, Mary Claire!” greeted the woman with exotic dark skin. “How are you?”

“Well, today was the bi monthly sonagram for little girl,” I started. “And the doctor discovered that little girl might have Down’s Syndrome.”

“Oh my,” Charlie said.

“And the doctor had to give James and Aaron their legal options by law otherwise she could end up losing her license,” I continued on. “And one of those options was to abort little girl. James and Aaron know about my last pregnancy and they told me that under no circumstances would they ever murder little girl. Still, I started crying when she mentioned it and Aaron just about lose his cool- I thought he was going to need to be escorted from the hospital by security!”

Peter wrapped his arm around my shoulders and placed a protective hand onto my stomach, as though he alone could shield me from the nightmares of my past.

KICK KICK KICK PUNCH

“I love you,” he hummed softly, tracing my ear with his nose.

“You never let me forget it,” I whispered back, relaxing into his side.

“Is there something that you’d like to share with me, Mary Claire?” Charlie asked, steering us back onto track.

“Sorry,” I apologized sheepishly. “So yeah- little girl may have Down’s Syndrome and I just quite honestly don’t know how to feel about that.”

“That’s okay to feel that way,” Charlie told me. “It’s a lot to take in.”

“You’re telling me,” I muttered, leaning deeper into Peter and wrapping an arm around his chest.

~xoXox~

“Mary Claire, Peter called me yesterday and told me that you suffered a nightmare that resulted in you kicking him out,” Charlie said near the end of our hour long appointment.

“I did not say it like that,” Peter scowled. “I said that my soulmate asked me to give her space, to which I complied.”

“Peter,” I whispered, placing a hand onto his jaw and watching as he settled down. “I dreamed about the night that Eric raped me, but then that he was Peter. I woke up freaked and I knew that I wouldn’t be able to calm down with him so physically close to me.”

“And you were able to come back to reality?” Charlie asked, taking a sip of her drink.

“Yeah, pretty much,” I shrugged, wrapping my arms around myself. “I know that Peter would never hurt me, but there’s still a teeny part of me whispering of all the damage he could inflict onto me if I piss him off enough.”

“Sweetheart.” Peter turned me so that I was looking him in the eye. “Sweetheart, I will never dream of hurting you. If by some dumb chance I do, please tell me so that I can never do it again.” I cooed as he leaned down and pressed a sweet kiss to my forehead. “Also, please tell me so that I can redeem myself- I am terrified of meeting all seven of your older brothers.”

I couldn’t help but burst into boisterous laughter. It took me about ten minutes to settle down again.

“Why on earth are you scared of meeting my brothers?” I snorted. “They’re nothing more than overgrown teddy bears!”

“Sweetheart,” Peter resumed tracing the shell of my ear with his nose, gentle puffs of air tickling my skin. “They can probably murder me and get away with it, given their professions.”

“Remind me what your brothers do a living, Mary Claire,” Charlie asked.

“Adam in in the navy, Benjamin is a MMA fighter, Caleb is a professional boxer, Daniel is the quarterback for the New Orleans Saints, Ephraim works for the CIA, Frank is SWAT and Gideon took the smart way out- he’s a lawyer,” I giggled at the fearful look on my soulmate’s face. “Mom was obsessed with the musical Seven Brides for Seven Brothers when she was married to her first husband, and she named the boys after each of the leading male characters.”

“Yeah, so as I was saying,” Peter said. “I am terrified of pissing off your brothers. Plus, I also spent time behind bars for attempted manslaughter and some drug charges, so I know that they’ll hate me.”

“Peter Thomas Ratajczyk.” I snagged his attention just by saying his full name. I remedied his worries with a short kiss to the underside of his jaw. “Pozhaluysta, perestan' volnovat'sya- ty vyzyvayesh' u menya trevogu iz vtorykh ruk.”

“Prosti, milaya,” he meekly apologized, mollifying me with a gentle kiss.

“Uh…” I looked at my therapist to see a rather amused look on her face. “English?”

“Sorry,” I apologized, snuggling further into Peter’s arm. I glanced at my phone and noticed that our time was just about up.

“Well Mary Claire, looks like that’s all the time I have for today,” Charlie concluded our session. “It was nice meeting you, Peter. Take care.”

“Bye Charlie!” I grinned, waving at her.

“Oh, before I go, just how tall are you, Peter?” Charlie asked. I grinned, standing Peter up and adjusted the screen so that she could see him in all his six foot seven and a half inch glory. I then stood next him with a smile on my face.

Charlie burst into laughter.

“Oh lord, you are adorable,” she chortled.

“I like her height,” Peter protested. “Because it means that I can easily do this.”

Suddenly, he picked me up and threw me over his shoulder before toting me back to bed. Charlie chuckled before signing off.

“Sweetheart, now that it’s just the two of us…” Peter bumped his face into my tits.

“Are you hungry?” I cooed, slipping out of my shirt and unbuttoning my shorts. “Come and get it, then.”

That was all that Peter needed to hear before pouncing on me. He manhandled me onto his thigh, wrapped back arms around me and began to suckle at my tit. I arched my back as my fingers folded around his long black hair and tugged.

“Fuck- Peter…” I gasped as I began to grind my now sopping pussy on his leg. “Don’t stop!”

Within minutes, the coil in my stomach shattered, sending me down a highway of bliss. I spasmed, only remaining upright by Peter’s strong arms and even then, he practically had to grip me tightly. When I came down, I went limp in his arms, causing him to chuckle.

“Are you alright, sweetheart?” he murmured, tracing my ear with his nose.

“Hmmm?” I hummed, my head flopping as I lazily tugged his mouth back down to my other tit. “D’he oter ne, leas.”

Peter chuckled before doing as I asked him to, one hand on the back of my shoulder blades, keeping me close, the other on my hip, his thumb roughly massaging my skin as he attached himself to my nipple. I could see part of his face, and it made me think that he was in heaven.

I whined, humping furiously on his thigh, bringing myself closer to orgasm, until finally, I snapped. I fell over the edge with a silent shout, my eyesight going black. The next thing I knew, I was waking up, my back pressed to Peter’s chest and his arms wrapped around me, keeping me tucked close next to him.

“Are you alright, sweetheart?” he asked, seeing that I was awake. “You fainted.”

I opened my mouth to reassure him that I fine only to find that I couldn’t talk. I nodded instead, bringing our lips together for a kiss. I was curious as to what my milk tasted like, so I darted my tongue out to taste his lips. Much to my surprise, my tit milk tasted just like cow milk, except a little more sweet and creamy.

“You like it?” Peter hummed, his hand going to my stomach to feel little girl lazily kicking. “I love it- your milk would be the last thing I ever eat before I die and I would truly die a happy man.”

“Peter…” I barely managed to whimper, shifting around and throwing my leg up over his hip. I purred when I felt that he was hard and erect.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he growled as I began to hump my pussy into his crouch, trying to work him without even really touching him. He didn’t stop me, instead spanning his hands across my wings and just holding me.

All it took was me moving my hips a certain way before he let out a soft grunt, his arms tightening around me as he buried his face into my head of red curls. I felt a warm dampness explode from his groin area and I smiled.

“Mission accomplished,” I hummed sleepily, snuggling into his chest deeper for a little nap.

“Jesus fuuuuuuuuuuuuuck…” Peter snarled, his fingers twitching as he struggled to keep his hands where they were. He brought a hand to my cheek, where he pressed a simple kiss to my lips, which turned into a lazy battle for the upper hand.

Peter won in the end and he flipped himself so that he was over my body. Still pressed into my petite frame, he humped me a few times before stilling.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” was the last thing I heard him say before I slipped away.

Pozhaluysta, perestan' volnovat'sya- ty vyzyvayesh' u menya trevogu iz vtorykh ruk, please stop fretting- you're giving me second hand anxiety, Russian

Prosti, milaya, I’m sorry sweetheart, Russian

TAGLISTS ARE OPEN/ ASK BOX IS OPEN/ REQUESTS ARE OPEN/ PLOT BUNNIES ARE WELCOMED

If you liked this, then please consider buying me a coffee HERE It only costs $3!!!

PETER STEELE TAGLIST

@rock-a-noodle

@elianafilthyrose

@ch3rry-c01a

@rockstarslutt

@angelxfuckk

#Peter Thomas Ratajczyk #Josh Silver #Kenny Hickey #Johnny Kelly #Mary Claire Bradley (OFC)#Peter Steele #Type O Negative #Heavy metal #Doom metal #Soulmate AU #Real person fiction (RPF)#Tattooed Wings #Romance #Family #Humor #Drama #Friendship #Matching tattoos soulmate AU #Age gap romance

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daltonacademia · 4 years ago

Text

There’s A Time For Daring - 1

charlie dalton x fem!reader [post events of the movie]

word count: 1.7k

warning: allusions to sex / slight sexual harrassment? drinking, mentions of neil’s suicide, horrible parents

Charlie couldn’t help but emit a low growl as his vomit-inducing, picture-perfect, high-society mother and father, whom he despised, prodded him towards the expansive front entrance of Nealson Preparatory School located in southern Vermont. His fuschia-lipped, cakey-faced mother, Cynthia Dalton, was a well-dressed, dignified housewife by day and charming socialite by night; she was particularly harsh as she trampled his pen-stained oxfords with her spearish kitten heels. His eyes shot daggers at the snow-strewn path below, a familiar fire burning in his core.

There were many things Charlie was tempted to furiously spit out at his parents, but instead, he managed to keep his jaw clamped shut, his pearly whites digging into the light pink of his lips hard enough to draw blood. No matter what he shouted, cried, pleaded, they wouldn’t budge. They never would. And it was infuriating.

“Charles! Being expelled from such a prestigious school is no laughing matter, young man. That school cost us quite the pretty penny! How dare you defy the rules to the extent of expulsion. It’s disgraceful, and I will tolerate it no longer!” Charlie’s mother shrieked, furious tears smudging the thick mascara that coated her eyelashes.

“You’ll be shipped off to Nealson Preparatory School in February, and if I hear so much as a single mention of your name not followed with overwhelming compliments, you can expect nasty, nasty consequences! Go pack your things, you’ll be staying with Aunt Barbara until the first of February finally arrives!” The rims of Charlie’s brown eyes stung with anger, frustration, and furthest down, sadness. He was diminished to nothing but an image-ruiner to his mother. The person who was supposed to love him, protect him, save him from the horrors of this hell called Earth.

Mr. Dalton silently observed the boisterous outburst from his expensive leather armchair across the den, a glass of strong, half-drunk whiskey in his palm. Charlie couldn’t bear to see their despicable faces any longer, and as his body felt no longer under his control, stomped up the stairs in a huff, rapidly swiping away the glassy tears spilling from his eyes. Thoughts of running away, escaping it all, flooded his unstable mind. ‘I get why you did it, Neil. I really do. But did you have to go so soon?’

But instead of lingering on the image of Neil any longer, he hastily threw his bare necessities into his suitcase, which was still covered in an array of Welton Academy stickers.

The grounds of Nealson were unsurprisingly well-maintained; it reminded him a lot of Welton. The impeccably manicured lawns, gleaming, icy blue lake, the gothic stone arches and pillars. It was eerily similar to Hellton, even down to the ice-cold blanket of snow coating the distant rolling hills. It’s beautiful, Charlie thought, surveying the slow sprinkling of snow, No, it’s hideous.

Before he could fully vomit at the vile grounds of his new school, his parents fiercely shoved him inside the Headmaster’s dingy office, politely taking the vacant mahogany seats beside him. Charlie couldn’t be bothered to listen to a word his parents said with pearly white smiles, which were no doubt tooth-rotting, sugar-coated lies about the real reason he was expelled over a month prior.

He knew that they couldn’t just be transparent and tell the Headmaster that he had socked the utterly vile Richard Cameron’s face in (rightfully so, in his opinion), or that he was a star member of the infamous Dead Poets Society, or that he had gone to the extreme lengths to stage a phone call from none other than God himself. It didn’t work like that.

His mother’s cheeky, artificial voice sounded precisely the same as it always had: carefully rehearsed and slathered with naivety. Seemingly without hesitation, the catty woman could deflect any less-than-pleasant questions or insinuations about her “golden role-model” son, who’s admittedly “a little misguided at times”.

The new headmaster seated across from him appeared to be around the same age as Mr. Nolan, which, as far as Charlie was concerned, was older than the Cretaceous period at least. His pale-as-a-ghost skin was wrinkled and paper-thin; his patchy, gelled side-swept hair was (very obviously) dyed a deep, midnight black, reminiscent of an off-brand Elvis.

Charlie’s ears continued to mute the awkward conversation happening amongst him, his focus instead shifting around to the various awards and certificates lining the ivory walls. They all seemed so phony; ‘Best Headmaster- 1947-1959’, ‘Nealson Academy: Exceeds Expectations’. The Headmaster had even framed his high school superlative: ‘Voted Most Likely to Succeed’. What a pathetic-

In a swift blur, his parents rose from their seats, his mother clutching her magenta purse with matching pursed lips. Charlie was handed a hefty, stapled packet packed full of school rules and guidelines with a denture-toothed smile from Headmaster ‘Campbell’. This’d make some decent kindling, he thought as he yanked the packet from his clammy clutches, leafing through its pages with a smirk, this garbage’s almost laughable.

A syncopated rhythm of raps on the door, followed by a gravelly, ‘come in', presented his new dorm escort. His chauffeur just so happened to be you, the accomplished and universally admired student body president in the same grade as the newcomer. You were dutifully donning Nealson’s horrendous uniform: a crisp, white button-up accented with a blue and silver tie was topped with a depressing grey sweater vest. An equally loathsome pleated skirt concealed your thighs, and your ankles were shielded from the chilly February air with black crew socks.

You extended your perfectly manicured, soft hand out to your brand-new peer with a yearbook-worthy smile, introducing, “Hi. Welcome to Nealson, I’m Y/N Y/L/N.” You swore you heard the brunette mutter something disrespectful under his breath, but nonetheless, he, rather unprofessionally, shook your hand with an eye roll. Things between the two of you were not starting off the way you hoped, but you were determined to make a good impression. The best impression possible.

“Charlie Dalton,” he replied with a mischievous smirk. The brunette standing in front of you reeked of cigarettes, and there was the slightest smell of cheap beer clinging to his clothes. His brown hair was messy, springing out in every direction, despite the water furiously combed through it. His eyes glinted with rebellion, a look so alluring yet dangerous.

“I’ll be showing you to your dorm, which you’ll sleep in for the remainder of the year.” Since Dalton was starting in February, he only had five months of studying before long-awaited senior year. Mr. Campbell waved the two of you off, and with that, you trekked towards the Boys’ wing, Dalton sauntering at your side.

The walk through the main corridor was silent and awkward. You had tried to enchant him with fun facts about Nealson and its (extensively selective) history, much to his obvious boredom and dismay. His umber eyes glazed the walls, uninterested in the decor. His mind seemed to be elsewhere, but for all you knew, it could be on the bottom of the Pacific Ocean.

After a while of treading through the high-ceilinged corridors illuminated with fleeting pale rays of sunlight, the boy next to you made no attempt to hide him drawing designs up and down your body.

“I’ve never been to a school with both boys and girls,” he drawled with a smirk. “Do things ever get exciting around here?”

You shook your head no while indiscreetly tugging down the hem of your skirt uncomfortably, and he said, “Do you think you’d maybe wanna spend the night with me in my dorm? Make sure I’m all settled in?”

Your whole body, from head to toe, froze. The audacity of this… creep! Your tongue poked, nearly stabbed, the back of your teeth, wanting to unleash a select few words to the disgusting Dalton beside you. But alas, if he were to tell anyone of your fiery wrath, you’d be demoted from class president faster than you could explain what really happened. It’s a corrupt system, sure, but even with the power that comes with such a title, there was no way to mend it.

Eventually, while you were wrapped up in the furies of your mind, Dalton revealed a small, autographed golf ball from his trousers pocket and began throwing it up and down above his head casually with every step.

“Can you not?” you snapped at the chestnut-haired boy after he tossed the sphere up and down again in an arch. “Don’t wanna get in trouble on your first day, do you?”

“You think this’ll get me in trouble? Have a little fun, it won’t kill you. I promise.” Dalton turned his gaze towards you, an annoyed but smug grin painted on his lips. He slowly tossed the golf ball to your hands, intending for you to catch it. However, the small ball evaded your grasp, instead bouncing around the hardwood floors below you, creating a series of loud, reverberating thunks.

“You were supposed to catch it, you know,” Dalton teased, nonchalantly watching you chase after the rogue orb. After it was finally safe in your clutches, you stomped over to the no-good newbie, irritated.

“Nealson’s strict. They don’t let stuff like creating an awful lot of racket go unreprimanded.” You were seething; red-hot blood pumped through your veins. Dalton didn’t look anything but utterly amused.

“Wow, you’re just about one of the biggest suck-ups I’ve seen in a while.”

“A what?” you growled.

“A suck-up. A rule-following poster child of excellence? A bratty, know-it-all? Anything along those lines?” He sputtered insults so nonchalantly, it made your blood boil and eyes sting.

“You better watch it, Dalton. I don’t know who you think you are-”

“I’m the best thing that’s happened to this school, by the looks of it.”

You had nothing left to say to this conceited shuck of a boy who really thought that he was all that and a side of fries. Well he wasn’t! Not in the slightest! And if his first day of classes wouldn’t drill it into him, you would.

The rest of the walk was pin-drop silent and tense. No more fun facts about Nealson escaped your downturned lips, just the light patting of his beat-up oxfords and your pristine mary-janes on the polished wood floor. The hallways seemed more depressing than usual, their framed portraits and condensated windows didn’t fill you with the motivation that you came to expect.

After finally arriving at the boys’ dormitories, you grumbled, “well, this is it. Have a swell life, Dalton.”

“Right back at ya, Y/L/N. Let’s hope this isn’t the last time we meet.” He gave you a cheeky wink before slamming the door in your face.

#dead poets society #Dead Poets Society (1989)#dead poetry #dead poets society x reader #dead poets society quotes #DPS #dps fanfiction #charlie dalton x reader #charlie dalton x y/n #charlie dalton

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missblissy · 3 years ago

Note

Hello! I was wonder if you could tell me more about Fiota? 🥺 👉👈 She's so pretty! What kind of OC is she?

*Sobs* o k ay. More of her Info under the cut

General

Full Name: Fiota Ignis Magne Meaning of Name: Flame/Fire Nickname: Fi (pronounce Fii, not Fee) Known As: The Forgotten Princess Age: Unkown Sex: Hermaphroditic (can switch genders, perfers female though) Place of Birth: Unkown Birthday: Forgotten Currently living in: Limbo Species/Race: Succubus/ Incubus Blood Type: AB Occupation: Overlord Sexual Orientation: Pansexual Social Status: Exiled Princess Relationship Status: Married Status: Somewhere In Hell

Appearance

Height: 5'6 Weight: 170 lbs Skin color: white Hair style: short and curly Hair color: blonde Eye color: pink Distinguishing Features: rosy cheeks Preferred Clothing: formal, anything in purple Accessories: a choker necklace with a gem that traps souls in it.

Health

General health: Healthy Diet: Raw fruits and vegetables and meats. Never cooked. Posture: Perfect Any physical illnesses?: None Any mental illnesses?: Trauma Take drugs?: Never Smoke?: A pack a day Drink?: Every second she gets.

Fighting

Weapons: A Death Sythe, has the ability to kill angels. Skills: Magic, close combat, brute force. Abilities: Has a full demonic goat form. Last Resort: Murder, will only kill someone if she has to. Strengths: Strong willpower, she knows when to back down and rarely goes overbored.

Relationships

Family: Lucifer (Father) Lilith (Mother) Charlie (Younger Sister) Love Interest: Alastor (Husband) Friends/Allies: Not many, she lives a very isolated life. Laylette (An Imp who technically is her servent but she trusts her) Enemies: Lucifer, and every current Overlord.

Views/Opinions on...

Government: Prefers a monarchy, strongly dislikes modern governments. She's beyond old-fashioned, she's ancient. Religion: Pointless, it didn't do her any good. Economy: Taxation without representation. Technology: Hates it, will not use it at any cost. Can't stand modern technology.

Favourites

Food: Pomegranate Color: Purple Animal: Lamb Holiday: Halloween Season: Fall Time of day: Night Thing to watch: Musicals Movie: Doesn't watch movies Type of art: All Art is Good Art Genre of music: She enjoys almost all music, but hates anything along the lines of electronic/dubstep/club music. She finds it distasteful. Genre of literature: Romance

History

Fiota was born a human female to Lilith after her mother escaped the Garden of Eden. As punishment, Fiota died for being the child of Lucifer and was sent to hell. For hundreds of years, she worked tirelessly to earn the respect of her father. She would help conquer and betray in his name and expand his power over hell. Eventually, however, Charlie was born and as a hell-born demon, by birthright, Charlie would be given the throne and named the heir. Enraged at losing her right to the throne, Fiota challenged her father and lost. Lucifer cut off Fiota's own black wings and as punishment, he exiled her to Limbo, where she has remained for hundreds of years. Around the time Alastor died, he made an effort to topple every Overlord he could. Fiota was the only one he couldn't beat, he made a deal with her though that would blow up in his face. He was still new to learning his powers and the deal backfired, making it so Alastor could never be far from her. Forced to be together they made the best out of the worst and eventually developed a relationship. They were married in secret. When Fiota hears that Charlie had started a hotel to rehabilitate sinners, she sent Alastor to go spy on her sister. Eventually, Fiota would arrive at the hotel with plans to sabotage her sister. However, instead, Fiota ends up rekindling her relationship with her family and coming to terms with her feelings towards her family as well.

Personality

Fiota is a very isolated person. Since her exile, no one in hell seems to remember who she is. Limbo is a part of Hell where minor sinners are sent. The people who weren't good enough for Heaven, but didn't deserve Hell were sent to Limbo. Fiota quickly became the Overlord and ruled with an iron fist. She's very orderly, organized, and precise. She is not cruel however, she is very well mannered and lawfully good. She always does the right thing even if she does not agree with it. She comes off as stern, cold, and serious. However, it's just a hardened mask to fool her enemies. Under her mask, she is thoughtful, considerate, and understanding. She's willing to listen to people and help them in any way she can. She can be kind if she wants to but prefers to be stern and keeping people at an arm's length. She understands that not everyone who ends up in Hell is inherently bad or necessarily deserves to be there, so she offers Limbo as a safe haven for the people who can manage to find it. Those who can find Limbo and live under her protection are safe from exterminations, safe from overlords, crime, drugs, or any of the other chaos you'd see in Pentagram City.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel oc #oc #oc;; fiota #oc;; ignis #hh oc #orginial character #alastor x oc #weeps in a corner #pls #i love her #thank u for asking #i will gush about Fiota for days

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a-dauntless-daffodil · 4 months ago

Text

Angel Dust: "How come Niffty put ME in the angel kill on sight group and not YOU, toots?!"

Vaggie: "No idea. Maybe she just likes me better?"

Niffty: "STAB STAB STAB!"

Vaggie: "Or uh, likes you better. So much she want's to stab you."

Niffty: "STABSTABSTABSTABSTAB-"

Angel Dust: "Niff- DOWN! Sheesh! Go look to ya right- go get Vag-gay over there!"

Niffty: (giggling) "ANGEL STAB! ANGEL STAB!!!"

Angel Dust: "GEEZE! Like sure my name's Angel an' whatever, but I ain't an angel?? I don't even got the wings for it! YOU look jus' like an extra bitch with your wings and eye so what the fuck! What gives!!"

Vaggie: "Wow... That's, actually a good question, Angel Dust."

Angel Dust: "YEAH WELL WHAT'S THE ANSWER MY GRIP ON THE RAILIN'S SLIPPING!!!"

Vaggie: "Hey Niffty? Why are you hunting him and not me?"

Niffty: "Charlie told me not to~"

Vaggie: "She told you not to... what?"

Niffty: "Hunt you like an ANGEL! Because of the TRAUMA, right??"

Vaggie: "Uhh, the-"

Niffty: "You're already SUFFERING and if I stabbed YOU for being an angel you'd just feel lame and sad and boooo like you deserved it even though you don't. BLEGH!" (pouts) (sticks out tongue) "Boooooring!"

Vaggie: "Yeah?" (smiling) "Charlie said that, huh."

Niffty: "She's so nice~ She didn't want me to waste my time~"

Vaggie: "Yeah. She. She really is the nicest person ever."

Niffty: (SIGH) "I guess you two match. You're not a very good BAD GIRL are you? Even with having been an exorcist! What a WASTE!"

Charlie: (hugging gf from behind) "I know right? I love hugging her around the middle! She has a very lovely everything!"

Niffty: "NO!!!! NOT WHAT I MEANT!"

Vaggie: "Waste as in wasted bad girl potential, babe, not hug zones."

Charlie: "Oh!"

Niffty: "A tragedy." (heaves sigh) "Oh well..."

Niffty: (turns) (lifts knife) (Grins) "Ohhhh Angellll Dusssst~"

Angel Dust: (SCREAMING)

Vaggie: (softly) "Charlie..?"

Charlie: "I don't think she can really reach him up there... Hm?"

Vaggie: "Thanks. The... the angel thing..."

Charlie: "Shhh." (squeezes) "You are NOT the stabable kind of angel. Even Niffty gets that. See?"

Chaggie: (watches a gleeful knife waving niffty bouncing around under a terrified and dangling angel dust)

Charlie: ".... um."

Vaggie: "Damn she's catching air."

Charlie: "And Angel Dust's grip is a bit less than I thought it'd be. Do you think you should maaaaybe use your pretty angel wings to save him?"

Vaggie: "Fuck no. Let Husk do it."

Charlie: "Husk??? Why would Husk be the one to-"

Vaggie: (pats charlie's hand) "You've got your ships babe and I've got mine."

Charlie: "Oh please- I kow you think Pentious being sweet on Cherri is cute too! I've HEARD you give him tips!"

Vaggie: "Those? Just survival tactics."

Charlie: "More like how to survive liking a girl tactics."

Vaggie: "Well I guess me and you are in the same boat there anyway... Aren't we?"

Charlie: "A ship not a boat and always, Vaggie. Always."

Angel Dust: "WILL YA SAPPHICS STOP CUDDLIN' AND WHISPERIN' SWEET NOTHIN'S AND HELP ME!?"

Niffty: "ARE YOU AN ANGEL CAKE??? ARE YOU DONE? LET ME STAB YOU AND FIND OUT!!!"

Vaggie: "...."

Charlie: "So where's his Husk in shining armor?"

Vaggie: "Sloshed armor. I never said it was a good otp, sweetie."

Charlie: "I'll check the bar. You?"

Vaggie: "Will make sure Angel Dust doesn't end the night with more holes than he started with."

Charlie: "I'm gonna miss hugging you the entire time I'm gone~"

Vaggie: "Me too. Hurry or I'll leave our porn star to his fate."

Angel Dust: "OH FOR FUCKS SAKE LET GO ALREADY!"

Niffty: "You FIRST!!! MUWAHAHAH!"

Charlie: (slowly letting go) "The things we do for our friends..."

Vaggie: "Hey, look on the bright side. We can have another heartfelt make out session once we're meet back up again."

Charlie: "-HUUUUSSSK WHERE ARE YOU? FUCKING WAKE UP! THERE ARE ROMANTIC EVENT FLAGS GOING OFF ALL OVER THE DAMN PLACE AND I WANNA KISS MY GIRLFRIEND! HuUUUSK!!!!!!!!"

#hazbin hotel #vaggie #niffty hazbin hotel #angel dust hazbin hotel #chaggie #charlie morningstar #incorrect quotes #charlie “omg i can finally do something about my gf's shitty mental health! YIPEEE!!!” morningstar

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selfwriting-sugarquills · 4 years ago

Text

Bruises.

request: “hi there lovely! I've just came across your blog and would love to give you a request!! maybe something along the lines of the reader being a family friend if the weasleys for years and they've taken her under their wing at school and she gets into a physical fight with some other person that was making fun of the w.fam for their money situation and she gets detention with umbridge. when she comes out thought george kisses her and thanks for? ty lovie?!!”

word count: 2.278

warnings: mild violence, not really proofread

A/N: listen, I just want to say that obviously not all Slytherins are mean bullies, we all know that by now, right? for the sake of the plot these particular ones are bad xxx

Sound was erupting from everywhere around you as Gryffindor won against Slytherin. Mostly you could hear the yells of dismay and catcalls from Slytherin mixing with the roar from the Gryffindor stand. down on the pitch you saw the teams land on the ground, the Gryffindor team looking only somewhat happy amidst the chaos, all of them landing around Harry to check on him after being hit by a bludger in the last second of the game, though their concern quickly turned into annoyance as Malfoy swooped down in front of the group, saying something to them, though the crowd and the distance made it impossible for you to make out what that something was. Instinctively you found the two redheaded twins you called your best friends and going on the stiff looks on their faces, whatever Malfoy was saying wasn’t very sportsmanlike.

“This isn’t going to be pretty,” You say to yourself as you hurry down to the pitch, quickly dodging between disappointed Gryffindors and breaking into a sprint when you reach the grass of the playing field.

You’re too slow though, in the seconds it takes you to reach the team, Harry lets go of George and the two take on Malfoy, both of them quickly overpowering him until he’s lying on the ground, you can’t do anything other than help Angelina, Katie and Alicia hold Fred, who’s still struggling to break free and get to Malfoy, and yell out for George and Harry to stop, not because you have much pity for Malfoy, knowing he probably deserved every hit that he got judging by the boy’s harsh reaction, but rather because you fear Umbridge’s tyranny, and the punishment she’ll give Harry and George. If speaking out of turn got you the blood quill, as it had been named by your fellow students, then you didn’t want to imagine what outright violence got you, let alone two against one. You held onto Fred for what felt like an eternity before a blast from Madam Hooch’s wand knocked down George and Harry who both landed with heavy ‘thump’s on the grass.

“I’ve never seen such behavior before! Up to the castle, straight to your heads of house’s office, both of you immediately! Go on!” Madam Hooch screamed at the two boys, who picked themselves up and took off, in the meantime, Fred seemed to calm down, all you still holding onto his clothes for good measure while you headed towards the changing rooms,

“I-I’d better go back up to the castle,” you say, “I’ll see you all in the common room, alright?”

The group bids you goodbye and you turn to join the stream of students walking up towards the castle.

As you walk, the whole episode plays over and over again in your head. You’d never seen the twins so angry before, let alone had you never seen them being physically violent in that way. You’d known them since you were about eight, your parents were good friends of the Weasley’s and one summer, whilst your own house was having some construction done, the Weasley’s had offered to let your family stay with them. You’d been shy and had mostly kept to yourself until the twins beckoned you into their room to see their newest fireworks they’d gotten from Romania as a gift from Charlie. It had been incredibly easy to befriend the twins and years later you’d still consider them your best friends and you knew them to be some of the most easy going and happy people at Hogwarts so seeing George beat up Malfoy was new. You felt a pang of worry at the thought of George and the twisted devices Umbridge had surely set up to use on him as punishment, Malfoy was a favorite of hers after all, surely she wouldn’t treat this like any of the twin’s other antics. You’d developed a crush on George over the past year or so and just like befriending him, you’d found that falling in love with him had been more than easy, it was hard not to, really. You’d first realised you’d loved him when you’d had a really terrible couple of days, your essays had come back with bad marks despite you really having tried to understand the subject, hoping to get use the n.e.w.t to get your dream job, though at that moment it had seemed impossible with the ‘Poor’ marked on the parchment, then you’d received some harsh criticism from Snape, not that you’d normally care but in midst of your crisis with your essays, you’d let it get to you, and George had noticed, of course he had, he had a knack of reading you better than Fred - or anyone else - could. He’d sneaked you out after the sun had gone down, and together you went to Hogsmeade, walking the wet cobblestones together for what seemed like ages. He bought you sweets and sat with you in the three broomsticks until well after midnight, just talking and watching the various customers come and go.

“Why’d you take me here? I mean, not that I don’t appreciate it, I just-” you halted, your breathing never worked quite right when he looked you in the eye, “-why are you doing all this for me?” you ask, swallowing hard when his lips form a smile that honestly makes your heart stop. He thinks for a minute, allowing you to breathe again when his eyes move away to glance out over the three broomstick’s interior, the hag half asleep over her fifth scotch, the shifty cardplayers in the very back, sluggishly teasing each other earning them a warning from madam Rosmerta when their ale spills over, then back to you with your red nose and cheeks from the cold, your hair slightly frizzy from the wind,

“to get away from everything, I think,” He says, “sometimes it’s nice to just leave everything you know behind for a bit, you know?” He looks at you and when you don’t answer he continues,

“Sometimes, when I’m back home, it can get a bit too much, with my family and everything. Especially if you’re upset, it’s tough when you don’t even have a room you can shut yourself up in, except for maybe the bathroom,” he lets out a stout chuckle, then his expression softens again, “so, sometimes when I’m upset, I sneak out, and just walk through the fields until I can see the city in the distance, and I just sit, like we are, and it helps to be away, just for a little bit, and then when I feel better, I go back home and the strange thing is, that when I come back, Fred is always up and waiting for me, and I don’t think I’ve ever been so thankful to have a twin…” He falters, and realises he’s rambling, “I don’t know, I just thought you’d like to get some fresh air,” he adds, his ears turning red but you don’t say anything. You just stare at him whilst your heart hammers away at your ribs because for the first time you’ve realised how much he means to you.

You’d never told him any of that, though. That night you’d walked back to the castle together as if everything was the same, though you could never focus again whenever he’d put his arm around you and your heart still stopped in its tracks when his eyes met yours.

“If you ask me, then this just proves Malfoy’s point,” a voice says behind you, you turn and look and see a group of Slytherin girls walking together, “I mean attacking him like that just because he’d been giving them some slander, if that doesn’t scream “I was raised in a pigsty” then I don’t know what does,” the girl says, her friends letting out barks of laughter, “honestly what did Draco expect, haven’t you seen their pranks? they’re practically barbaric. Probably fight over scraps of food the poor things,”

“Shut up!” You spun around to face the three girls, neither of whom looked threatened by your outburst,

“What gives you the right to speak about them like that? As far as I’m aware none of you even know them,” you sneer, earning belittling giggles from the three of them,

“I think we’ve seen enough to know what type of people they are, after all they hang out with little Potty and that Granger girl, it figures,”

“what figures,”

“That they clearly struggle to comprehend what wizards are worth spending time with, though who can blame them? with those parents I’m surprised they even know their ABC’s- OOF!”

You hadn’t realised your hand was flying upwards until it hit the girl’s face knocking her backwards a few steps while she cupped her nose, blood beginning to trickle out between her fingers, staring at you with a shocked expression for a few seconds before her friend shoved you, yelling something you couldn’t hear over the pulse banging on your eardrums, in your rage you didn’t hesitate to lash out after her friend who swiped quickly at you and hit you square on the cheekbone, though you managed to land a punch in her eye before you, too, were knocked backwards by a spell.

“MISS L/N!” Snape’s voice echoed across the grounds, Sprout and Flitwick at his heels, “what on earth do you think you’re doing?!” his voice boomed, making you wince as the pain from your cheekbone begins to register, “Your housemates displaying the worst of your houses wasn’t enough for us, was it? Thought we’d join in on the fun? Fifty points from Gryffindor and 20 from Slytherin for good measure! L/n you’re heading straight to professor McGonagall’s office! and you three go to the hospital wing at once!” Snape scolds as you pull yourself to your feet and begin walking towards McGonagall's office, dreading having to look your head of house in the eye. You’d felt sick with guilt when you’d had to explain being late to one of her lessons, the thought of having to explain why you were turning up with a bruised face after she’d already had to berate George and Harry made you want to hurl.

You were surprised to see that her office was empty except for professor Umbridge when McGonagall opened the door with a slightly surprised expression.

“Miss L/n, what on earth are you doing here?” she asked,

“Erh, professor Snape sent me,” you said sheepishly, her eyes landed on your cheekbone and her expression stiffened,

“Come in.” Umbridge's saccharine voice says behind her, “Mr Weasley and Mr Potter have just left, but I’m sure that we can fit in another detention, if you’ll leave us professor McGonagall, I’ll take it from here.”

***

“-So I’ll see you next Monday for your next of many detentions, miss L/n, other than that you’re free to go back to your common room now.” Umbridge says finally, taking the blood quill from you with the same revolting smile she always wears. You don’t know what to say so you resort to nodding and leaving without a word, carefully closing the door behind you and turning to go. You start when you’re met with the face of George, who’s sitting on the windowsill across the hallway, his lip swollen and bruised.

“George!” you say, holding a hand to your chest, “you scared the living hell out of me!” you exclaim as he stands up and crosses the hallway,

“Sorry, Y/n,” he says with a grin before his eyes travel to your cheek and soon after you feel his cold fingers touching your bruise gingerly while he eyes you with furrowed brows,

“You’re hurt,” he says in hushed tone so unlike his usual self that it makes your stomach churn, hating to see him this worried,

“you should see the other girls,” you attempt to joke earning a chuckle from George, “besides I can hardly feel it with my hand,” you lift up your hand, showing off the bright red letters etched into it,

I will not resort to violence.

“so it’s true then,” he says, his hand still on your cheek, his thumb gently brushing over the bruise, his eyes staring into your own, “that you beat up those Slytherins?” Now it’s you who’s chuckling, “You could say that, yeah,” you answer, “they deserved it though, they were talking about you, your family” suddenly, you find it hard to look George in the eye, you stare at your feet, the edges of your vision blurring with tears, you feel his hand tilt your head up by your chin,

“I- I don’t know what happened, George, I just heard them say those awful things about you and I just couldn’t take it, I just-”

His lips cut you off from your ramblings, his hands finding their way down to your waist, holding you gently as he tilts his head to deepen the kiss just a little, stepping closer to you, your own hands travel up to his neck, his hair, your fingers get lost in tufts of ginger hair. You can feel the bruise on his lip, and it implores you to kiss him as softly as possible, though you want nothing more than to continue deepening it, to make it last longer. He breaks away, resting his forehead on yours,

“Thank you, Y/n,” he breathes with a smile, “for standing up for me.” he leans in and pecks you on the lips,

“though, in fairness, I’d prefer if you refrain from violence from now on, I’d hate to see you get hurt.” he says, taking you by the hand and beginning to walk, you gently nudge him,

“And that’s coming from you,” you smirk,

“touché.”

#george weasley x reader #george weasley #Fred and George Weasley #harry potter #hp #the weasley twins #fred weasley

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bloodsigilsandpie · 4 years ago

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Home

Part 7 of Chapter 1

wc: 719

Three months and no apocalypse. Dean chuckled to himself at the thought while doing the dishes.

He was living an apple pie life. With his brother and his girlfriend running the hunting community, his angel boyfriend (boyfriend!) and their Nephilim son, who was technically the son of the archangel Lucifer and a former white house secretary. In a top-secret underground bunker with centuries worth of occult lore and artefacts.

Well… it was close enough.

Although, the place was not always just the five of them. There was the occasional stray hunter stopping by now that it was the official hunting base. Run by none other than Sam Winchester of course (with Eileen keeping him alive). His little Sammy was all grown up.

Right now he was digging through the archives for something on a minor god some hunter's run into.

Jack, despite being back to Nephilim, was usually found in his room listening to music that confused anyone that walked by. Dean didn’t get how it eventually grew on Cas when it still gives him a headache. He still had his wings though. So on weekends, he would be at Jody’s being corrupted by Claire.

Except when Alex or Patience was around. Then he'd come back with some 'cool new fact' that would remind everyone back at the bunker that he has only been alive for 3 years and they haven't done much to educate him in the ways of the world.

Yesterday he came back fascinated about how many bones were inside him. He spent the whole day watching YouTube videos about it.

Speaking of ways of the world, Dean had an almost-human Cas on his hands who shrieked last week when the bread popped out of the toaster. He couldn't leave him alone with Sam because in under 5 minutes they would be immersed in some dangerous ‘experiment’ that would leave them pleasantly surprised when they survived it.

He was sitting at the kitchen table reading a newspaper and telling Dean about anything interesting he came across.

Eileen helped put out a few of those fires (sometimes literally). She’s been a joy to have around. Mostly because of how ridiculous Sam is around her (Dean would love to point it out but he’s afraid Sam would have a reply in mind). But also because it’s good for Jack to be raised by at least one competent adult, as they have all come to agree.

She’s out on a hunt with Donna.

Dean had settled into part retirement. It's nice not worrying about the fate of the world.

Hunting has turned into a once or twice in a month thing. It's all just late nights under covers and sleeping in for him now. He only steps out for it when he needs to scratch an itch or when Claire makes a comment about how he's getting too old for it.

There has been no demon activity except the occasional hellhound attack when Rowena finds someone she'd like to put through Hell. And it seems the angels are glad not to have a reason to come down and interact with them.

Amara brought back a few victims of Chuck’s need for ‘shock value’ in his story. This included a lot of people they couldn't save and the vessels of a few dozen angels and demons. She also restored the other worlds. All but the squirrel one, whatever that is, that made Amara shudder.

As a final favour before she left, she erased their criminal records, which meant they could get real jobs now.

Everyone brought over from the apocalypse world went back and Kaia, with her newfound mastery of dream-walking, checked in on them every month till they settled down. She told them about Bobby retiring to run the roadhouse and Charlie and Stevie getting married. Now that she can control it, her eyes light up when she talks about what she sees. Not as much as Claire’s does (something else Dean can’t say out loud). They were happy together and it was nice to see Claire smile.

By the end of the day, that's all that matters. His family was safe and happy.

You see, he was never given a 'home' or a 'family'. He found it. And learned to be selfish enough to let himself keep it.

tag list. ask to be added or removed.

@celestialcastiel @castiel-is-a-cat @transdeanactivist @dollydee28 @tehmanda @dadstiel-trenchcoat @annoyingmoongladiator @magiaveneno @professorerudite @valenschmidt @theangelwiththewormstache @supernatur-ally @dalek-patronus @blackiris25 @luci-sfluffysarcasm @charlottemanchmal @petrichoravellichor @pen-roses @phoenix-talks-too-much @usercass @rambleoncas @astermacguffin @rendotoai @lisarlene @wulfrann @love-neve-dies @foolsdreamhigh @dean-coded-gabe-girl @thebrighterstarinthesky

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mistersshelby · 5 years ago

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A tommy shelby x wife reader, series 5 garrison scene where Michael tries to take power from tommy except Tommy’s wife is there too and they humble them reminding them who the real power couple is? Please

hello hello here is something short and quick as i have been struggling to find motivation to write. a reminder that some of this dialogue was taken directly from the episode and does NOT belong to me.

questions, comments, concerns

masterlist

“You need to keep an eye on Michael,” You said one evening as you and Tommy were the only ones remaining in the Garrison after a family meeting. You sat in Tommy’s lap, each of you drinking a whiskey, your free hand running through his hair the way he liked, “That American girl is getting in his head, I can see it.”

Tommy’s eyes were closed at your touch, “Do we have to talk about business, love?” He asked softly, “I’m tired.”

And you knew he must be exhausted because he would never admit to it otherwise. You tossed back the rest of your whiskey and put the glass down, then turning back to nuzzle into his neck, “Whatever you want, Tommy.” You whispered, softly pressing your lips to his neck, all thoughts of Michael forgotten.

You think about that moment now when Michael stands, interrupting Tommy. Your eyes snap to him now, before they were idly fixed to a spot on the wall as you stood to the side of Tommy, having already heard all the items he listed off now when he had told you about them in his office earlier that day.

You grow cold as he begins to speak, knowing where he’s going with this “proposal” and you sneak a glance at your husband, already seeing the icy rage build in his blue eyes as Michael talks. You glance at Gina, Michael’s ridiculous arm candy who is smiling smugly as she watches her husband and you wish you had pushed Tommy harder to keep an eye on him before.

When Michael is finished, you watch as Tommy takes the proposal from him, “It’s cold in here, Michael.” He says calmly and then turns and feeds it to the fire without a moment’s hesitation. A few of the boys snicker, you remain stone-faced knowing Tommy is only holding things together for the sake of the rest of the family in the room.

“Tommy, the Americans want to deal with me.” Michael says through his teeth.

But your husband just stares him down, “Item number three,” He continues where he left off.

“Tell him the truth,” Gina says, “Go on. He can take it.”

Your jaw is set and you’re ready to yell at Gina to take her family-ruining, American rich girl arse home. Michael is looking away hesitantly, but Tommy says, “Tell me the truth, Michael.”

He looks back up at Tommy, that air of pompous rebellion returning to him, “The Americans don’t want to deal with an old-fashioned, backstreet razor gang. Those days are done.”

Tommy is nodding along as Michael speaks as if he expected this, and when Michael’s finished before Tommy can reply, a Peaky boy rushes in to report that Barney had gotten loose and was causing mayhem in the streets. “Go and get him!” Tommy yells to the room, finally letting a bit of his rage show. Everyone empties out to go help except you, Tommy, Polly, Michael, and Gina.

Once the doors swing shut behind them, Tommy turns to the hearth, his hands on either side and Michael still stands there as if he thinks Tommy is still going to surrender. “I’m doing this for you, Tommy. It’s time. And you know it.” Tommy’s fists are clenched as Michael keeps speaking, “Tommy, mum’s leaving, John’s dead, Arthur needs help,” Tommy flinches at John’s name and you can’t sit by idly anymore, “Ada’s man was killed in your own backyard because you fucked up--”

Michael has unleashed a bit of Tommy that you haven’t seen in a while and you step in front of him to spare Michael as he spins to attack. You gently place a hand to Tommy’s chest without looking at him and he immediately settles, “That’s enough, you ungrateful little twat.” You spat at Michael, “Don’t forget who put you here in the first place, who sent you to the Americas because we trusted you, huh, Michael? How did you get there? Only for you to fuck up when the markets crashed. The only reason you still have a job here is because you’re Pol’s blood, any other Peaky boy would’ve been out on his arse after that.”

Michael shrinks away from you and you can’t see him, but you can feel the pride emanating from Tommy as you speak, “That backstreet razor-gang shit that you hate so much? It’s the only reason you’re here spouting this fuckin’ nonsense to begin with. You think you can run this business, Michael? You have no fuckin’ clue what running this business takes, no clue the number of nights Tommy and I don’t fuckin’ sleep for fear of someone coming in the night and slitting our throats, the nights Tommy paces until the sun rises as he tries to figure out how to fix everyone else’s mess, including your own, only for you selfish little pricks to betray us!” You’re yelling now, you’re not sure that you’ve ever yelled at anyone in the business before, usually leaving it to Tommy.

“The both of you fuckin’ disgust me,” You say, deathly quiet, and then you stalk over to Gina and lean on the table getting close to her face, “You’ll never be me, sweetheart, and Michael will never be Tommy. You’re not built for it and you would crumble under the pressure. You’d be wise to direct your husband in a different direction because he no longer has a place here.”

“See this for what it is, Tommy,” Michael continues on as if you haven’t spoken, an offense that does not escape your husband, “A natural succession that someday must happen.”

Tommy seems to have gotten his rage in check, but Michael’s insult to you makes his nostrils flare, “You heard my wife,” He says calmly, “I gave you an opportunity, Michael, you’ve betrayed us. Don’t be here when I get back.”

He walks to meet you where you stand near Gina, intertwining your hands, snapping at Gina with his free one, “You, you can tell your family--”

“Let me guess. Don’t fuck with the Peaky Blinders.” Gina smiles smugly.

Before Tommy can pull you away you slap her hard across the face. Michael lunges for you, but Pol pulls him back, “Don’t fuck with Mr. and Mrs. Shelby, Gina,” You correct, “My husband won’t touch you, but the next time you cross us I can’t guarantee you’ll walk away unscathed. I grew up with this backstreet razor-gang so I know how to fight. I don’t think you can say the same, Miss Richy-Rich. And don’t fuckin’ interrupt my husband again.”

Gina scowls at you with watery eyes, clutching her now red cheek as Tommy tugs you away and out of the bar.

He detaches from you immediately as the streets are in disarray to go help with Barney, which he’s immediately able to settle with little effort, ordering Jeremiah, Isaiah, and Curly to help Barney back to Charlie’s yard. He then tells his brothers and the rest of the Peaky boys to come back to the Garrison to have a meeting for the “generation that actually do the work.”

Tommy then walks back over to you and cradles your face in his hands, kissing you hard at first and then softer when you moan against his mouth, “I have never loved you more than I did watching you in there. I don’t know what I would’ve done to Michael had you not been there.”

You smile and bend your forehead to his, “I’ll always be there to back you up, my love. You don’t do this alone. Ever.”

He kisses you again, allowing himself a small smile amidst the bleakness of his cousin betraying him, the cousin he had so willingly taken under his wing when he was young, “I should’ve listened to you weeks ago, about Michael. And Gina.”

“What’s done is done.” You say, stroking a thumb against his cheek, “I don’t think they’re going to give up just yet, though. They’ll be back, they’ll try to take the company again.”

He nods, “And we’ll be there to put them in their place again,” He kisses your forehead, “Come on now, back to the meeting.” He intertwines your fingers again and pulls you back into the Garrison. You know times will be harder now, with Michael’s betrayal, but you can’t help but smile knowing you have your husband beside you to take it on together.

#mine #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fic #peaky blinders imagine #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby fic #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby angst #tommy shelby fluff #anonymous

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luke-patterson-owns-my-soul · 4 years ago

Text

The Intern

The Intern: A Luke x Reader One Shot

Luke Patterson x Reader

Title: The Intern

Words: 2,755

Summary:, Sunset Curve are posing for the photos for their new album. Y/N is the photographer’s intern who catches Luke’s eye.

TW: None

Author’s notes: This idea popped into my head after Charlie posted the photo of him being photographed. It kinda got away from me and went on a bit of a tangent, but I quite liked the outcome. I hope you do too.

“Guys, this way please. That’s right, just there. Perfect.”

Your boss, Caleb Covington, photographer to the stars, filled the large studio with his vibrant voice and even more vibrant clothing choices as you sit behind the laptop making sure the shots coming through are suitable for use.

All you’ve ever wanted is to be a photographer, and this internship was the first step on the ladder to the career of your dreams.

“Hey, Y/N, can you do me a favor sweetheart?” You stand and walk over to where Caleb is adjusting the lighting as the guys of Sunset Curve go for an outfit change.

“What’s up, boss?”

“There’s a thrift store a block over can you run over and grab whatever scarves they have?” He hands you a handful of money. This was common, Caleb would start a shoot, get hit with a vision, and then send you off to chase down obscure props. “Also, as many fake flowers as you can. I’ll make sure everyone takes a lunch break while you’re out, so you don’t need to rush.”

“Sure thing. Give me an hour?”

“Take your time.” Caleb reattached the camera to the tripod in front of him. “Also, take the small canon with you. There’s some great street art that could be used for these guys.”

“Thanks, boss.”

You grab the bag containing a small point and click camera and shoulder the strap. As you leave the studio, you realize how supportive Caleb is of your dreams despite the bad rumors that are constantly floating around about him. He’s never given you occasion to doubt him and he allows you to use the equipment in the studio whenever you want, and often encourages you to take photos from behind the scenes.

Walking along the sunny New York streets, you take photos of the amazing architecture and as you near the thrift store, you see the street art Caleb told you about. It’s gorgeous. Six feet tall, bright blue angel wings cover a brick wall and you take a few shots, change angles and take some more. Eventually, you lower the camera and enter the thrift store.

Within ten minutes, you have a bagful of scarves and a handful of fake flowers and are ready to head back, not before stopping off at your favorite delicatessen to buy your lunch.

Back at the studio, Caleb and the guys are sitting around a round table, chatting.

“Where do you want these, Caleb?” You ask waving the flowers at him.

“Oh great you’re back. Just hand them over to Kayla in props, we’ll work out what to do with them after lunch. Come and join us.”

It wasn’t very often Caleb invited you to mix with his clients, so you jump at the chance. You pull out a chair and sit down as Caleb introduces you to the four guys that are around your age.

“Y/N, this is Reggie, Bobby, Alex, and Luke.” Each of the guys give her a wave in greeting, but there’s something about the last guy, Luke, that has you locking eyes with him for a moment. With a cough, you look away and take a bite of your sandwich, but you can still feel his hazel eyes on you.

:: ::

Once lunch is over, the guys head back into make-up for a touch up while Caleb rearranges the while space, placing the flowers you bought around the space. The scarves are hung in the window, which is opened to let in a breeze, moving the material in waves.

As he works, you upload the photos of the street art you took and begin to edit them.

“Wow, those are amazing.” A voice behind you makes you jump. Turning around, you see Luke staring at the screen in front of you. “Did you take those?”

“Yeah, I did. Thanks.”

“Y/N, are those street art shots ready yet?” Caleb calls out as he walks over to join you and Luke. “Oh, honey. These are fantastic and will look amazing as a backdrop for the guys.” He turns to Luke. “What do you think?”

“Hell yeah. This album cover is gonna be gnarly.”

You feel your face heat up from the blush that’s creeping over your skin at the compliments you’re not used to receiving. Feeling somewhat embarrassed, you turn away and focus back on the screen, allowing the sounds around you to fade into a pleasant buzz as you work.

“Girl, you have an admirer.” Flynn the make-up artist Caleb always uses creeps up behind you.

“What are you talking about?” you ask, trying to concentrate, but the guys of Sunset Curve are in your direct eyeline above the lip of the open laptop and they all look amazing.

“That guy, Luke. He can’t stop looking at you.” At her words, you can’t help but look over at him where he’s standing on a windowsill, made into a silhouette by the sunlight flooding through the glass behind him. You lock eyes for longer than is necessary. “Oh, you like him…” Flynn nudges your shoulder with hers.

“Shut up,” you hiss, worried people will hear her.

“Nuh uh. I’m making the most of this. Can I just say, the guy smells gorgeous?” With a laugh, Flynn retreats back to her corner of the studio and begins packing up her equipment. You watch her and when she turns to wave at you, you can’t help but flip her off, making her laugh even harder.

As the day draws to an end, you’ve packed away all of Caleb’s gear and locked it in the huge safe in his office, apart from the camera he’s been using all day. Sunset Curve are with Flynn having make-up removed and have changed back into their own clothes.

As you and Caleb upload the photos to his laptop, you can’t help but stare at Luke’s bare arms exposed by the cut off band tee he’s wearing.

“I’m just gonna grab some air, boss.” You tell Caleb, suddenly needing to be out of the studio.

“Why don’t you call it a day? I can finish up with these later this evening.”

With a grin, you give him a quick kiss on the cheek before going to grab your bag.

“Hey, Y/N,” Flynn called out from her corner. So much for a quick escape. You head over to where she’s putting the last of her stuff away in her huge case on wheels.

“What’s up?” You ask, feeling four pairs of eyes on you as you approach Flynn, avoiding looking at the guys watching you.

“Are we going for a drink?” she asks you, finally looking up at you.

“Well, I wasn’t planning on it.” Immediately, you regret saying the words as Flynn’s face screws up. It’s Friday, you’ve both been working crazy hours for Caleb, and you know you both need to let off steam.

“Oh, come onnnnnn. Julie’s meeting us.” Julie, the third in your trio of friends, worked as a studio musician nearby. “First round of shots is on me.” Flynn was in wheedle mode and knew you couldn’t resist. You heard chuckles from behind you and turned to look at Sunset curve seemingly enjoying the show. You’d forgotten they were there and felt your blush return.

“Oh, go on then, but I need to go home and get changed. I’ve been in these clothes all day.”

“Honey, no. You forget where we work.” Flynn grabbed your hand and pulled you behind a changing screen where an outfit was already laid out for you.

“This looks suspiciously li-” Flynn held a slender finger against your lips.

“Just get changed.” She disappeared, leaving you alone, You could hear her chatting as you pulled your clothes off and pulled on the ones she’d picked out for you, knowing there was no way she’d let you get away with wearing anything else. As you pulled on the cut off band tee, you were glad you wore on of your favorite bras – a black lacy number – as the arm holes were crazy huge.

The skinny jeans had been rolled, but because you had on heavy duty combat boots, you unrolled them then pulled your boots on.

“You look great.” Flynn reappeared, armed with a few essentials. With a sigh you let her attack your face with eyeliner, mascara, and a bright red lipstick. “Perfect, even if I do say so myself. Fluff up your hair, then get your booty out here.”

When you finally emerged from behind the screen, the conversation between Flynn and Sunset Curve – why were they still even there? – paused as all five of them turned to look at you. Reggie, at least you thought that was his name. Beyond Luke, you were a bit fuzzy, let out a low whistle.

“Dang, girl.”

“I hate you.” You hissed under your breath at Flynn who was grinning like a fool.

“No you don’t.” She linked arms with you and led the six of you out of the building.

“You could have told me you’d invited them.” You spoke softly so you weren’t overheard.

“Would you have come if I had?”

“Probably not.”

“That’s why. Now, I need to call Julie, make sure she’s on her way.” Letting go of your arm, Flynn pulled her cell out of her bag and held it up to her ear.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Luke appeared next to you. Flynn had been right he did smell good.

“Yeah, I’m good. I was looking forward to a long bath, but Flynn likes to get her own way.”

“I noticed.” Luke laughed as the girl in question linked arms with Reggie and Alex behind them. “She’s a force of nature, huh?”

“She’s something alright, I’ll decide later once I’ve had a few drinks.” He laughed again.

They arrived at their favorite bar where Julie was waiting outside for them.

“Y/N, you look amazing.” She soke as she hugged you.

“Thanks, I’ve been ‘Flynned’”

Flynn rolled her eyes as she made introductions as they entered the bar. Instantly, the smell of beer and floor polish assaulted your nose and you felt yourself relax. This bar had been like the fourth friend to you, Julie, and Flynn while you’d all been at college.

“Shots?” Flynn asked, making her way to the bar while the rest of you found a booth big enough for all of you.

“Shots, and lots of them.” You called out as you slid in, Luke following you, his firm thigh pressing against yours, heat flooding through you.

:: ::

A few hours later, you’re nicely buzzed from the alcohol and when the music starts, you drag Julie and Flynn out of the booth and onto the small dance floor in the corner of the bar.

For most of the night, the seven of you have been chatting about nothing in particular, and you couldn’t help but be hyper aware of how close Luke was sitting next to you and how much attention he paid you as you spoke.

“Girl, you and Luke. That’s some chemistry going on.” Julie spoke loudly over the music. Automatically, you look over at the booth where you see Luke watching you while his friends are talking amongst themselves. It isn’t unpleasant being watched by a guy that good looking.

“Right? I saw it earlier and had to sort out this little excursion.” You glared at Flynn playfully as the three of you moved to the music surrounding you.

“Oh, Nick’s here.” Julie ran off the dance floor and leaped into her boyfriend’s arms, peppering him with drunken kisses. You and Flynn grin at one another at the display. Usually, Julie was more subdued, but tequila had a habit of helping her lose her inhibitions.

“Ten bucks that they leave within five minutes.” You say to Flynn who laughs and gives you a high five. True to form, less than four minutes later, Julie waves her goodbyes and leaves hand in hand with Nick. Flynn hands you the money which you tuck into your pocket.

“I need the bathroom. I’ll be back.” Flynn slides away, leaving you to dance alone. It doesn’t bother you feel the beat of the music throughout your entire body.

Looking back over at the booth, you see Luke is sitting alone, still watching you. You can’t help but smile at him as the song changes from something upbeat to soft and slow. People begin to leave the area around you and you look around for Flynn, unable to see her.

“She bailed.” Luke spoke directly into your ear, his breath warm against your skin. It makes you shiver, and the feeling isn’t exactly unpleasant.

“Of course she did.” You groan, thankful for the bet you won which should just about cover an uber home.

“I guess I should do the same, then.” You can’t help but look up into Luke’s eyes, still swaying to the music – or is that due to the tequila?

“Before you go, can I have this dance?” he asks. Nodding, you step into his arms, noticing how firm and warm they are wrapped around your waist. Your own arms snake around his neck and the two of you move to the sounds of Ed Sheeran singing about his Perfect girlfriend.

“I never expected you to dance like this.” You say to Luke, not quite sure where it comes from.

“It’s easy with the right partner.” He smiles down at you, making your heart feel as if it’s about to short circuit. He really does have a pretty smile.

“Smooth talker.” Is all you can think of in response as you both continue to sway. As the song comes to an end, you reluctantly pull yourself out of Luke’s arms. “I guess I should call an uber.” You murmur, not moving off the dancefloor, enjoying the feel of Luke’s bright eyes on you.

“Sure.” He doesn’t move either. “Wait, how far do you live? Maybe we can share one?”

“Four blocks.” You shrug.

“How about we walk? Why pay for an uber for a ten to twenty minute walk?” He wasn’t wrong, but you rarely walked the streets alone after a night of drinking.

It’s cool, but not cold when you both step outside, the doorman giving you the thumbs up, making you roll your eyes.

“You don’t have to do this.” You tell Luke.

“Y/N, I want to.” He holds out his hand for you to take hold of. You oblige, a jolt of electricity running up your arm. “Which way?”

You start walking in the direction of the apartment you share with Flynn, Luke falling into step next to you, still holding your hand. A comfortable silence falls over the two of you, and you keep your gaze in front of you. The feel of Luke’s hand clutching yours is sending your body into overdrive and your brain doesn’t quite now how to process it.

Sooner than you’d like, you stop outside your building.

“This is me.” You can hear the disappointment in your own voice and see a flash of something on Luke’s face.

“Well, I guess I should say goodnight then.” He says, his voice soft, almost a whisper.

“Maybe you should.” Neither of you have released the other’s hand. You simply stand on the sidewalk, looking at one another.

Your brain is screaming at you that you don’t know this guy, that you only just met him, but your heart is telling you to do something to stop him walking away. It’s been a while since you’ve had this kind of connection with someone and it’s been even longer since you brought a guy back to the apartment,

The pink tip of Luke’s tongue pokes out and runs around his plump lips, attracting your attention. His deep chuckle makes you aware he knows you’re thinking about more than saying goodbye. Without a word, he bends his head and places a gentle kiss against your lips.

Before it started, it was over, and he pulled away. Using the hand not holding yours, he reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his cell.

“Can I get your number?”

You enter your number into his phone before he places another soft kiss on your lips, lets go of your hand, and begins to walk back in the direction you came from.

“Hey, Luke?” you call out, trying not to worry about the morning. He turns to face you, a question in his eyes. “Want to come up… for coffee?”

#jatp #jatp fic #luke patterson #luke x reader #one shot #fanfiction #Flynn #Reggie #Alex #Julie #Nick #Original character #Mich writes fic

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