#yep... wrote it again

[avirael]

Sparing you the direct side by side comparison here but I really think Nhagi’ra has a bit of Flynn Rider energy, as in he’s a charming but kind idiot. Maybe a little more silly/clumsy than Flynn 🤭

Imagine him just walking by and seeing a woman attacked by some monster. Of course he heroically rushes to her help just that he slips/trips, falls down down a ravine or something and breaks his leg.

Meanwhile said woman (who can absolutely save herself) chases away the monster on her own and finds him stuck and whining.

Still he immediately puts on his most self-assured, charming face to impress her, which pathetically fails of course.

I Imagine it goes like this:

“Can you walk?”

“Of course I ca- Aaaah! - No! No, I can’t…”

“Alright, let me help you…”

[drenched-in-sunlight]

I gotta say I did not expect I’d love Miles this much, enough to look up shit like Secret War and Civil War II reading order, and worse, subject myself to Bendis’ writing of all things (he’s the reason why I stopped being a comic stan 5 years ago. I were a DC/ Superfam fan. You know the beef was BEEFING). Like, my tolerance of that dude now only stops at him being one of Miles’ creators. So that better writers can do the kid justice years later. That’s it.

Like, why is the “r u and Ganke together haha” a whole shtick that comes up multiple times during his run? It’s so annoying and painful to read. Miles can go around being paired up with different girls but the moment THAT question came up you know he gonna be super defensive and >:( about it which, eh, just does not line up with anything else happening in whatever story is happening at the time. At all.

The only silver of light is that Miles actually never says he doesn’t like boys, he just denies ever dating Ganke. Like, he could just say he doesn’t swing that way and the question would have stopped, but he doesn’t. So I know he be running around kissing the punk-est boy in the whole spider verse, ha!

Idk I’m near the end of Bendis’ run and some of it r good but a lot of them put me thru excruciating pain (cringe) so I have to complain about it.

Did I mention I were a DC stan 6 years ago? I were a DC stan 6 years ago so this isn’t even my first rodeo with white dudes writing weirdest things in American comic, but I just can’t believe I got dragged into this again because Miles blinks his bambi eyes on screen and makes me want to rotate him in my brain so I need to know the lore of him in every medium, apparently.

[galaxyedging]

Lucien Flores (I think that's his name) x f!reader.

Part of the Exposed Masterlist

Warnings: female masturbation. Talk of smut. Dissing of the remake of Dune.

WC:3K

Summary: Lucien advertises for help with his latest art project, and you eagerly respond.

A Work of Art

After a few hours of restlessness, sleep had claimed you in the early hours. The last minute nerves from last night worked their way back in as the day filtered back into your consciousness. The ad you had replied to along with the details of your meeting sat on your nightstand. The edges of the paper curled where your fingers had troubled it the night before.

The bold print of the ad caught your eye.

Wanted: Women 35+ for exciting adult art project. Must be open and adventurous.

It wasn't much but it caught you gin hazed eyes. The past six months had been rough. You'd gone from the promotion fast track in a high profile firm with a fiance and a soon to be step daughter to single and unemployed. Still it was better than the alternative, trapped in a marriage to a man who wasn't who you thought. 

The ad fanned an ember that burned low inside you. The ember that you'd refused to feed in favour of being practical. All these years you'd refused every temptation. Giving up nights out to buckle down and study. Foregone holidays to gain your employers favour. Other passions shelved for you to pour your attention into your study.

Today, you were finally throwing caution to the wind. When you had called the number in the ad a smooth deep voice had answered. His words were almost lost on you as you enjoyed the timbre of his tone.

The he said something that got your full attention. "The art will be sexual in nature."

Apart from your first foray into being footloose and fancy free, a disappointing one night stand a few months ago, the sexual side of your life had been pretty lacking lately. He went on to explain that there would be nothing explicit and you could back out at any time before inviting you down to his studio.

The afternoon dragged before you had to leave for your meeting with Lucien. In an attempt to calm yourself you gave yourself a little pamper session. It had taken you a while to accept the parts of your body that you were less than happy with. With the idea that you might be sharing them with a stranger made you want to make the most of them. Every inch of you was exfoliated and moisturised with your favourite relaxing scent. By the time you were done your nerves had settled. The drive to the studio was short. The neighbourhood had a bohemian vibe. The studio was above a retro themed ice cream parlour that served more modern, experimental flavours. The scent of elderberry caught your nose as you passed.

The short climb up the stairs threatened to take your breath away as your nerves and excitement built. Taking a moment before knocking you were able to regulate your breathing. The moment the door opened all that went out of the window. Your breath was well and truly taken away by the man in front of you. 

"You must be my 5 O'clock?" His eyes, deep brown and filled with so much life, appraised you. "Come on in."

The room he invited you into was set up like any photography studio. Except this one had a massage table in the middle. There were cameras set up at multiple angles all aimed at the head of the table. To the side was a black fabric curtain hung on a frame.

Lucien must have seen your face flicker with wonder. "Hey. It's cool. I know this might seem a little daunting. As I said on the phone, you are under no obligation to stay. You can leave now or let me explain, then leave. I really hope it's the second one because I'd love to work with you but there's no pressure." 

Truly you didn't feel any pressure at all. There was something about his presence that made you feel relaxed around him. "Can I get you a drink?" When you declined, deciding to err on the side of caution and not accept a drink from a stranger, he excused himself to grab a water. 

In his absence you made yourself a promise to think critically about what he was asking. The critical thinking was necessary as he was hands down the most attractive man you had ever met. Eyes you could get lost in, a beautiful, easy smile. The jeans that he wore clung around his thighs and ass, showing how definite they were. His shirt was open down to a couple of buttons at the bottom. It revealed a scandalous amount of his broad chest and long neck. Both were dotted with freckles that you couldn't help imagine connecting with kisses. The line you'd drawn for yourself, about what you would or wouldn't do, was now a dot in the distance. One look at him had made you hurl yourself over it. 

"Please, sit." He let you sit in his desk chair before perching across from you on a coffee table littered with papers and equipment. "So as I said the art is explicit in nature. We'll go through that in a minute. I just wanted to explain why I chose you. From the questions I asked you on the phone you seem confident, secure in who you are, fun loving. These are all qualities that I'd like in this piece."

His praise heated you up. "Thank you."

He smiled brightly. "I'm not trying to flatter, I'm being honest. You're beautiful too so that will add another layer to the project."

For someone who wasn't trying to flatter, he was doing an amazing job. 

"So down to the heart of what I want. I want to explore how women's pleasure evolves with age. I want to capture something real and beyond the normal social standard of sexual pleasure. The media seems to think a woman's sex life ends at thirty."

"When you say 'capture', you mean you want to take a photo. Of…?" The line suddenly came into focus again. As gorgeous as the man was, anything pornographic was off the table.

"Your face. Specifically mid orgasm."

"Oh…"

"I wouldn't be evolved in the orgams part. The curtain would be set up across you so I can only see your face."

"So you want me to masturbate and you'll take a picture of my face when I…" you trailed off.

"Yeah, that's pretty much it. The photos will then be used in several collages. I'd make it difficult for you to be recognised. I would also like a brief interview about how your experience of an orgasm has changed with age. I'll use snippets in my work."

"That sounds interesting." You felt like you needed to buy time to process.

"Do you like ice cream?" The shift in conversation was so sudden all you could do was blink at him. "I want this project to be as authentic as possible. I need you to be relaxed around me. I was thinking while you take some time to process you could get to know me a little. Or a lot if you like. If I'm going to know you in an intimate way, it should go both ways. You can ask me anything and I'll answer honestly. I thought you might feel more comfortable doing that in a public space. The place downstairs does an amazing mint choc chip with popping candy in the chips. It's refreshing."

"Well, there goes my first important question of what your favourite ice cream is."

Fuck, he was handsome when he smiled. And that smile was all for you. A public place was definitely a good idea before you did something you would regret.

"So on to my next most important question."

"Go ahead." His face turned serious, his gaze narrowed on you, emphasising the angles of his face. It spurred on your attraction even more.

"What is your favourite dinosaur?" The laughter that peeled from him gripped your heart.

"That is important." He pursed his full lips in thought. "T-rex. Big and scary but filled with comedic value. You?"

"You want to know what my face looks like when I come AND my favourite dinosaur. You, Sir, are too bold."

Another peel of laughter filled the air as he guided you towards the door. 

The time at the ice cream parlour was like the best date you'd ever been on. Several times you had to remind yourself that it wasn't actually a date. Lucien was very open, he answered your questions about his love of art, foster by his grandfather. His upbringing, fairly normal, he grew up in California spent time in New York studying. His family. Only child, two successful, busy doctor parents so he spent a lot of time with his art teacher grandfather. 

Finally, about his passion for finding the truth in his work. "I've lost a couple of friends because they weren't able to be their true selves. Society wouldn't let them. From then on I decided to help uncover all the truths that society wants to keep tucked away, to keep people down." His brown eyes shone with tears and conviction. 

"I'm sorry, about your friends." You hand rested over his on the table. For a brief moment he turned his hand to cup your before giving it a squeeze. 

"Thank you." The tension between you was cut short by the bell above the parlour door ringing.

The tension lingered in your body. You used it later than night to see what the photos would capture. The video on your phone showed, to you, a pretty standard orgasm face. Feeling bold in your post orgasm high, you text Lucien to see if he wanted to see some screen shots for reference. 

If you're okay for Tuesday, I'd rather see it for myself. I'm glad that you feel comfortable showing me, though.

The high and the shield of your phone screen made you even more bold.

There's something about you that makes me feel comfortable. I enjoyed your company today.

The dots on your phone seemed to flash forever before…

Me too. Hopefully that will aid the process and we can get some amazing shots together. See you Tuesday. L x

The little kiss made your heart skip a beat.

When Tuesday came around you turned up with your best lingerie under your casual outfit. Not that you expected him to see it. He assured you that the curtain would hide everything and it wasn't as if you had thought of him seeing it in any other way. Like when he bend you over his desk to fuck you. Nope. That was definitely not on the mental list of things you had made to help you get there. Lucien had said you could have whatever you wanted, except visual porn, he didn't want your eyes focused on something. Old school always worked best for you so you declined to bring toys. Lucien offered to stream audio porn but truth be told you were hoping to hear his voice. The deep velvet rumble of it stoked something inside you.

"So I'll give you some space. There's sheets there. I don't know if you want to undress then cover yourself or keep your clothes on. Just lay down, slip your head through the curtain, they can be velcroed in place by your head, and call me. I'll stay behind the camera during the session. I will approach you to add a piece of fabric to keep the curtains closed, if that's okay?"

"Yes. That's fine."

With a reassuring smile he left you to it. Five minutes later you called him back in, opting to wear your clothes. Your outfit of leggings and an oversized button up shirt gave you plenty of access. 

Lucien came over to fix the curtains. "Comfortable?"

"As I'll ever be. So you just want me to touch myself? Any particular way…?"

"I want you to imagine you're at home and this is just for you. You're doing it for whatever you normally would. Horny, rough day, to sleep, unresolved sexual tension…" he laughed lightly at that one.

It made you think your attraction wasn't one sided. 

"Are they the reasons you usually do it?"

"Those and boredom. I'll tell you, that didn't go down well during the Dune remake." When your brows furrowed he quickly added. "That was a joke. I just meant that move was boring."

The laughter it brought you relaxed you. "Right?! I swear I almost fell asleep."

The tension in the room came right down. Enough that you felt ready to go. "I'm going to start…"

"You can stop at any time. Anything you need just ask."

"Thank you."

With his voice in your head and the scent of him still lingerie from when he was near, it was so hard not to look at Lucien as you began to touch yourself. Not wanted yo make him uncomfortable, you closed your eyes. In your mind it was him touching your breast. His fingers sweeping your clit and probing inside you for that spot. The thought of him watching helped get you to the edge in record time. Unfortunately, that's where you stayed.

"I'm close, I just can't…stage fright I guess." You couldn't even bring yourself to open your eyes to look at him.

"It's completely normal. I did some reading beforehand. Just relax. There's absolutely no pressure. If you can't this time, we'll try another day." There was a pause as he took a deep breath. "Or I could help you? In a way."

"Help?"

"Not touching you. I just…I noticed how you reacted when I told you why I chose you. Maybe I could talk to you?" The offer was casual, almost business like, just an exchange of services. 

Because that's what this was. He was compensating you for your time as a model. This wasn't a thing between you. Nope. The thought of him talking to you didn't make you wetter. It didn't take everything you had to casually answer. "We could try that. It might help."

"I wanted to work with you because you seem to have a strong sense of self. I knew you'd know exactly what you wanted in bed. Then there was that spark of life that was undeniable in you. The curiosity. The humour. Then I met you. Fuck, you're gorgeous. I knew you'd look good on camera. Like you do now. So beautiful. Those pretty lips parted. You're even closer now aren't you? I want to take your picture. I want to capture your unfiltered beauty. Can you come for me? Can you let go? I want you to come for me."

"Oh. Oh, yes. Yes." You had no idea what your face looked like as the pleasure worked its way up from your toes before crashing into your fluttering cunt and splashing outward.

"Oh. That's it. So fucking beautiful. So real." The way Lucien spoke, excited and breathless, it sounded like he was the one that had just come. He collected himself.

"I'll give you a minute to get dressed then show you the pictures." A door opened and closed. You attempted to peel your boneless form from the table. It took a few goes but you eventually got up. Lucien had shown you where the bathroom was to get yourself cleaned up. Even you had to admit that the face staring back at you from the mirror was prettier than the one that came in.

"Lucien?" You called once you were ready. He appeared from the other room. His shirt was now untucked. He looked a little flushed. A part of you hoped that he'd needed a moment to give himself some relief.

"Right. Let's see." He gestured to his laptop. The two of you stood side by side, arms touching to peer at the small screen.

"These all looked good, clear shots." His language was professional but the way he swallowed thickly wasn't."

"So I did well?" You looked into his eyes to see if his answer would be the truth. 

"So well." He breathed as the space between you got smaller. 

The next couple of minutes was a blur of lips and limbs tangling until your back hit a wall and the evidence that he had not given himself some relief pressed at your core. 

Your hands slid around his waist and under his shirt. His hand came back to stop them.

"Wait. We can't…remember? I asked that you don't indulge in sexual activity until the project is over." At the time that rule seemed easy to follow.

"Oh, right."

"It seemed like a good rule at the time." He huffed a laugh. "And one I would like to still follow. I want you to focus on your self pleasure."

"Self pleasure? So I can't take pleasure from anyone else? Can I give it?" You rolled your hips against him.

"Fuck." He pinned them in place against the wall. "See, this is that spark I was talking about, you naughty fucking girl." His teeth bluntly grazed your neck. "Oh, Lucien."

"I can't let you touch me. I don't think I could draw the line. All I'm thinking about is turning you around and fucking you against this wall. I can smell your sex. I want to bury my face in it before I bury my cock."

"You should save that talk for next time."

"So you're coming back?"

"Yes and I expect more of your help next time."

"Yeah? I can do that. I'll tell you everything I've been thinking of the past few days."

"I look forward to it." You restrained yourself to a simple kiss to his full lips before leaving.

That night, a message came through from him. 

A little tit for tat. 

The messages that followed showed his beautiful face screwed up in ecstasy. The lines around his eyes from a life well lived even more noticeable. His full pout parted in a perfect O. You had no trouble with your next orgasm.

Tags @kirsteng42 @prolix-yuy @thegreenkid2 @hquinzelle @fangirl-316 @gracie7209 @jedifarmerr @doommommy @scorpio-marionette @sturkillerbase @harriedandharassed @aynsleywalker @mswarriorbabe80 @quica-quica-quica @rise-my-angel @adancedivasmom @kinda-nobody @movievillainess721 @munsonownsmyass @mandoloriancookie @faceache111 @elegantduckturtle @shadowtrick

[okcoolthanks]

“Just by looking around I can tell! Most of you were goofing around in your chemistry classes this year” yeah no shit why do you think we’re here. At summer school. In a chemistry class

[flfverse]

Oh gosh, ok first things first, the obligatory (but still very genuine) please take care of yourself— no fanfiction is worth killing yourself over (no matter how much you or we love it.) At the same time, wildly excited that you’re still working on Free Falling regardless of everything happening in your life — I love it so much. Tbh, I’ll take any part of FLFverse in any form.

Since you said you were looking for asks, I have a couple of questions stacked up as I’ve been reading and rereading all your fics — no pressure to answer ofc, and idk if some of these answers contain spoilers or things you want to keep secret at the moment, but here we go.

Ok so history of subs in the hero world: in one of your BakuDeku fics, they watch this All Might series and you mention this female sub who was the first hero sub, but that there was just generally stupidity by society and the hero world that relegated her to sidekick hood (and then I think she left actually doing the heroics to manage her own agency? Forgive my memory. It’s been a minute since I’ve read it and I too am drowning in college.)

At the same time, however, from both Hawks and Deku’s POVs, there seems to be not any subs at all in the hero world when they’re heroes/training to be heroes. And forgive me if I’m wrong, but I sense from some of the BKDK fics, Deku is kinda seen as one of the first out sub heroes? Obviously there’s a huge gap in the middle between where Free Falling is right now and where the BKDK fics pick up that you probably can’t answer, but is it just like, an open secret in the hero world that Hawks is a sub? Is he one of several that can get by as long as they don’t openly admit it? Have there been hero subs before Hawks, or is her the first high profile heros who’s a sub, regardless of who knows? Have there been other high profile sub heros before Hawks and Deku? I don’t even know how much of that you can answer, but I’m just too obsessed with your world building and fictional history to not ask.

Ok so the next thing I have to ask, and I’m also guessing it’s a thing you can’t answer bc as an obsessive writer/reader of fiction, this is what I would center a plot point on (which, no judgement if you aren’t going to, I’m just obsessively theorizing in my free time): what are the legal ramifications of contracts? Hawk’s specifically. I remember that you posted a lot about contract’s legality, and a lot of Hawk’s seems to be in the illegal zone, ie, he signed it when he was underaged. Again, my memory is failing me, so I can’t remember if things like, there’s no dom specified or that there’s no end date specified could nullify the contract either. But then there’s the thing about permanent contracts. Is this like catholic marriage? Like, you can’t get it dissolved ever, unless under incredibly specific circumstances? Or do illegalities trump permanence? Is permanence itself even legal? But if it isn’t, why is everyone so afraid of that? (Personally, Im sensing Legal and Court Drama in the future, and if that’s the case, please know that I will literally lose my mind in anticipation.)

Anyways, those are things I’ve been stewing over. They might be too plot heavy for you to answer, idk, I’ve never done one of these before. But despite my absolute love of this entire world (but especially Free Falling), or rather, because of it, please take your time and prioritize your mental health! I think everyone who reads this series and loves it a lot would prefer it be a thing that’s made the way you want it to be in a way that’s supportive to you, no matter how long it takes or when the updates come :)

🥺 you’re so sweet 💖 and thank you for the ask!

SO, history of submissive heroes. basically that first hero sub (Morioka!) (she still needs a first name and a hero name shh) was doing it illegally/undercover, then once her secret got out she fought and won the right to keep being a hero so woo submissives can be heroes now.

[side note: i imagine that even she technically wasn’t The First, like when quirks were still new and heroes weren’t regulated, who was going to stop them? but it was still very rare bc of the general attitude around subs and it’s all very hush hush no one talks about that bit. it’s not like they were real heroes, after all 🙄]

so anyway, all that went down just ahead of aizawa’s generation, actually. his first year at UA was the first year the school started allowing submissives (not every hero school did right away, those requirements took a few years). as we know, aizawa and yamada are switches. you know who isn’t? oboro :3

i would like to write about that sometime. just. rahhh. that’s part of why aizawa is very pro-sub (the rest is, you know, basic human decency).

oh—i forgot about the fate of morioka up there. she was actually dropped by her agency for the scandal and did her best working with other heroes/on her own for a little while, but ultimately it got to be too much and she retired early to find a different career. unfortunately not the most feel-good story.

as for how many submissive heroes there are now, during Free Falling, i’d say there’s a handful. but like morioka, quite a few burn out or never really climb the ranks that much and fade into obscurity. on the face of it discrimination is Bad and Not Allowed, but toxic workplaces, y’know? i don’t think i’ve said it outright, but i’ve definitely alluded to ryukuu being a sub. she’s the highest ranking one known to the public and gets a ton of shit for it, but from what we see in canon she doesn’t seem to be too big on the spotlight anyway? i don’t see her as being very activism-minded, she’s just trying to do her job, not be the face of a movement, and probably avoids discussing it publicly just for the sake of her own sanity. valid.

hawks is technically going stealth as a switch. he just dodges the question if it’s brought up or says something vague. the fan conspiracy theories are probably wild (oh no, now i’m thinking about FLFverse rpf xreader fic), but among heroes it’s kind of a “don’t ask, don’t tell” thing—at least the ones that aren’t dicks.

hawks’s image is very carefully crafted by the commission and they do not want that part of him to become undeniable fact because it would damage his reputation. especially after everything he’s accomplished. the first hero to make top ten before he’s twenty is a submissive? uh, yeah, right. that would go over well.

beyond that, i think it’s pretty much just deku who’s high-profile. and kaminari and jirou to a lesser extent (and whoever else i’ve decided subs, there’s 20 of them leave me alone). their whole class is really famous for obvious reasons, so it’s kind of a given. i’d like to say that deku being, you know, who he is starts to change some minds, and he probably does, but not so much that it takes all the fun out of playing with the social hierarchy, right? ;D change can’t be that easy.

hm, gotta think about the second question. if there is to be Legal And Courtroom Drama, it would be in part 4, which is a huge amorphous blob in my brain right now. i know some legal stuff has to happen/change, but i’m not sure if i’ll focus on it or not yet. tucking that in my back pocket!

anyway. what i can say about that right now is that hawks’s contract is very illegal, but pretty much solely bc of the underage signing, especially given that it’s permanent. permanent contracts are like marriage licenses. they’re the only ones that have to be registered with the government in order to “count” and they are harder to get out of, but not quite catholic-marriage-level. and yes, illegalities would trump permanence.

the question is….do you trust the hero commission to be honest with either the government or hawks?

there’s also the whole deal that separate from the D/s contract, hawks still has his canon contract where the commission bought him from his mom. what’s up with that? time will tell.

there’s also other legal/ethical/etc issues going on which, of course, you all won’t know about until the end of part two. :) i can do ~intrigue~, i promise

[running-in-the-dark]

yes I've been lying in bed for three hours, listening to the same song on repeat, and yes I have written *checks* 14,000 words of the most stupid, embarrassing shit ever over the last two days, and yes I can actively feel my brain melting in my head, but I'm definitely totally fine.

[sabbqj]

I have never been in a relationship. Even if I wanted to cause I'm more mature than people my age. And that's the problem. I don't need rainbows and all sunny relationship. I need someone who wear storm and lighting around like casual clothes, so they could understand my rage. I want their anger, bloody teeth and lips. Someone who will see through me without judgement and not just the mask I show to everyone so no one has stupid fucking questions. Someone who will just know how does it feel. The disapointment, the black sheep of the family, the burden. Someone who will touch me with their thoughts and words and not just with fingers. Someone who will just sit with me and enjoy the silence cause not everything needs to be said out loud to be understood, not with the right person.

[poebrey]

whoever wrote this episode I want them BACK

[astro-b-o-y-d]

I should go to bed, but I managed to get a couple pages of chapter one finished, and even started a rough draft for a chapter WAY down the line with Mina.

This is fun.

[tropical-lazor-beams]

[image description: black and white sketch. dangeresque, further in the background, points his nunchuck-gun forward in a wide stance. dangeresque too, in the foreground, leans back on his feet & points his own gun in the air. they both look seriously to the right at an unseen target. at the left are some crates in the background. the caption is red, blocky & curvy text, reading "you take the big guy". end image description]

i honest to god put more stock into the relationship between these double-fictional characters than sb & hs themselves sometimes

[penwiper26]

...what the hell is a reader insert?

The stigma of self-inserts is so harmful to the creative process. Relax. Admit it. Everything you make is derivative of yourself, always, no exceptions. You can turn the mirror into tinier and tinier shards or you can make it as big as you want to reflect as much as you want. At the end of the day it's always going to show you inside of it. Pretending otherwise is stupid.

[rielzero]

Uhm

so does anyone know if the suno ai was made similarly to the art ais?(aka theft and illegal bs)

I've been playing around with it with just one of my lyric poems and the results are bonkers, and it makes me realize that my text will definitely sound good in songs. (Too bad I have no musical talent and am mute, I'm just good at writing apparently.)

The lyrics is somewhat altered in some versions, but honestly its more fitting dependingly.

Since the ai music itself is copyright free I can't fully own it, but If someone ends up using this at the very least credit me for my lyrics.

Here's a post to my lyrics.

Not super comfortable with the idea of people making money of my text though, I am not earning money of these songs either lol.

Tagging you in case you were curious @feyascorner

[fingertipsmp3]

Just had the weirdest job interview in my life and now I’m eating a big cookie. How is everyone

[nvuy]

doctor, doctor — veritas ratio

summary. you’re the worst person ever, distract him from his work, beat him at chess, and yet doctor ratio still can’t seem to hate your presence as much as he lets on.

notes. “nvuy please update your fics” NO.

my favourite person ever informed me that when owlbert lists all of ratio’s degrees, chemistry is not one of them, so i thought that was funny. but anyway i always lowkey forget ratio exists but then he appears in game and i go Good Lord and then go about my day. that man’s arms do something to me.

warnings. suggestive content, one intense make out session, you’re a freak LMAO, ratio thinks you’re a freak too, this is lowkey crack, i wrote this tipsy, gn reader but you do wear lipgloss.

“Hi, Doctor.”

Veritas’ fingers slid against the screen like nails on a chalkboard. A headache was already starting to form behind his eyes, and he squeezed them shut for a moment before he unwillingly opened them again.

“Yes. Good evening to you.”

Keep the pleasantries. Don’t yell. Don’t throw a punch. Don’t slam another book on anyone else’s head.

You sat down in the seat beside him with a purple soda can in your hand. “Whatcha doin’?”

Veritas cleared his throat. “I’m working.” He glanced up at the top of his screen. “And, judging by the time, you should be working as well.”

You weren’t even listening, choosing instead to pick up a stray notebook that he’d left on the desk. The page was filled with scribble and stupid math symbols—actually, that was not scribble. That was just his handwriting.

Gross. You grimaced at the page before you turned it. The next page, and the next, creased and scarred with harsh pen markings, looked undoubtedly the same.

“Work is for losers,” was all you remarked. You obnoxiously sipped at your drink.

Ratio scoffed. “How you even landed a position working for Madame Herta is beyond me. You are clearly a liability.”

You snorted. “I got hired because I’m sexy and smart.” You were picking at your nails, painted a deep purple like his hair. “You’re only here because Miss Asta needed help. After her problem is solved, you can go back to moping about how you don’t have a chemistry degree.”

You watched his jaw visibly tighten. His teeth gnashed together, and you swore you could hear them grinding behind his lips.

“It is a work in progress,” was all he said.

“Yap, yap.” You made a talking gesture with your hands. “I’m the professional here. That’s why Miss Asta made me lead chemist.”

Such a shame your ego overshadowed such a pretty face.

“What do you want?” he asked, trying to return to his notebook.

“I want to play chess.”

“I’m busy.”

You blew a raspberry. You punched him playfully in the shoulder. You almost hurt your knuckles bopping his bicep. “You’re just scared you’ll lose.”

His glanced up so quickly you swore you heard his neck crack. He raised an eyebrow in a challenging gesture, as if daring you to repeat yourself.

You only stared at him expectantly.

“One game,” he rushed out, face reddening in frustration. The look he gave you could’ve killed, but you knew him better than that. His strangely jacked physique wasn’t built to maim, and if he wanted to smack you with his tablet, he would’ve done so already. “And if I win, you will leave me alone.”

“Mmm, okay.” You shrugged. “And if I win, I get a kiss.” You tapped your cheek twice.

Veritas reeled back. Then, taken aback, he spluttered, “that’s all?”

You took another sip of your drink.

Then, you blinked. “Yep.”

Ratio, too, reciprocated, blinking wildly as if he hadn’t even processed what had come out of your mouth.

You grinned at him, eyes crinkling below your lashes as he eyed you down like he was viewing a sample through a microscope.

Then, he sighed. “Fine.” He tapped away on his screen. One of his floating gadgets projected a holographic chessboard onto his desk. “I suppose somebody has to dull that ego of yours.”

You leaned back in your seat and waved him off lightly. “You can go first.”

The chessboard flipped, and the white pieces faced him.

*ೃ༄

“Hey, does this thing have speech detection?” You leaned closer to the board. “Knight to B4.”

As expected, the small porcelain knight upon the board moved forward into its newly assigned position.

Ratio scoffed, clearly irritated. His fingers tapped idly against the desk. “You are so frustratingly lazy. It’s a miracle you get your work done, and such a shame it impedes your potential brilliance.”

You only made another talking motion with your hands. As he thought long and hard about his next move, you yawned. He took everything so seriously.

No wonder he was so jacked. He was constantly tense. It probably counted as a workout.

“You think I’m brilliant?” you asked with a smile.

“I think you have selective hearing.” Finally, he moved one of his pieces forward. “But, yes. Miss Asta speaks highly of you.”

“Aww. I’ll give her a smooch later.” That was a relief to hear, actually. Sometimes you worried if she’d boot you out of your position because of your tardiness. It was good that she still wanted you working in the station, despite lagging behind on reports and important meetings.

When you glanced up from the board after telling a pawn to move forward one space, Ratio’s eyes caught yours before he briskly looked down at the hologram once more.

Ratio was trying to read the board. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Just what are you doing?”

“Winning.”

“You are not winning.”

“Sure I am.” You leaned back in the seat once more. “Checkmate.”

Veritas’ eyes snapped up to gawp at you.

“Excuse me?”

“Checkmate,” you repeated. “I know I’m distracting. I have that effect on loser nerds with big egos.”

Veritas was staring at the board again. He was trying to piece together your previous moves, as the holographic board began to play in reverse. He was no cheat, no, never, and you didn’t expect him to do it as you were watching either, but it was clear as day.

He lost.

Your tongue carded along the rim of the soda can. “L-O-L.”

“This doesn’t even make sense,” Veritas mumbled, fingers rubbing circles into his temples. “You didn’t even have a plausible strategy.”

“Yeah, I did.” You placed a defensive hand over your heart. “You just don’t know it, because I have such a great poker face.”

“Chess doesn’t warrant a poker face.”

“Well, then, if you’re not willing to know my genius strategy–”

“No.” Veritas glared at you. “You will tell me.”

“Sure. I’m more worried about my reward, though.”

The look he gave you made you howl with laughter. It was a twist of his lips into something unsavoury as if he’d just swallowed a shot of vinegar. His brows knitted together and those unfairly long dark lashes casted a jagged shadow over his cheeks.

The chess board disappeared with a small noise and the screen returned to normal.

You leaned forward, batting your own lashes at him.

Veritas, after displaying a shaky grimace on his lips, met you halfway and pressed a quick, chaste kiss to your cheek.

You looked offended when he pulled back.

You whined. “What was that?”

“Your reward,” he argued.

“You just brushed your lips on me. Do you kiss everyone like that?” You were quite literally sulking, more so to get on his nerves.

It was working.

You swore you noticed a vein twinge on his temple. “I don’t just kiss anyone, thank you. Especially not over a game of chess.”

“You’re not getting my genius strategy, then.”

“Fine.”

This time, when his lips went for your cheek again, you turned your head.

Veritas let out an embarrassing noise that you’d never forget.

When he tried to pull away, clearly flustered and radiating so hot you were convinced he’d combust right there in his chair, you locked a hand in his hair.

Flustered for a moment, he then returned your enthusiasm ten fold, large hands curling around your waist and keeping the excited jittering of your legs still.

“Somebody will see,” he mumbled against your lips quietly.

To address his concerns, you dipped down lower in your seat behind the wall of his desk. Anyone that was watching would look away if they knew what was good for them.

Pulling away from his lips proved difficult. You caught the taste of his evening coffee, as well as the scent of cashmeran, and something that smelled faintly of chestnut and the smoky smell of a nice warm fireplace.

“You smell nice,” you whispered. Your voice was slightly hoarse. “What’re you wearing?”

The grin you had stretched on your face said it all.

Veritas snarled against your lips. “A physics degree.”

His lips hit your teeth when you grinned. “Can’t taste better than a chemistry degree.”

“You are horrible.”

Your hand crept along the waistband of his pants, feeling along the ribbons and the sleek expensive material. It was like cotton, but somehow even softer against your fingers, as if the thread count was bordering on six-hundred.

He reeled back when he finally processed the feeling of your fingertips slipping below his clothes. “Watch yourself.”

“Blah, blah, blah.” He made no effort to remove your hands, so a finger then hooked beneath the border of the hole over his chest. “Come ‘ere, Doctor.”

The light in your eyes was almost as intimidating as when you pressed your lips back into his, this time firmer, as if you were trying to mould your skin to his.

His skin was surprisingly warm for how cold he behaved. His scent was addicting. Freshly printed books and a warm winter’s night.

It tore a low and pleasant groan from your throat.

Surprisingly, he did not push away when your lips slipped from his mouth and traced the line of his jaw.

Instead, he sighed defeatedly and angled his jaw for you. You hummed, clearly content.

“Enjoying yourself?” he mused.

“Mhm.” You wondered whether he’d let you suck a bruise beneath his ear. “You’re soft. For a man.”

Veritas scoffed at that. He would insist that you were softer, but he instead bit his tongue. Of course he was soft. He took care of his skin, and he didn’t waste his life away drinking that filth you called soda.

He usually hated that artificial grape flavour, but he supposed the taste of your lips helped quell the awful amount of sugar still resting on your tongue.

He stiffened beneath you. He hadn’t even realised you had crawled into his lap. “Are you leaving marks?”

“Yep.” Your lips had dipped down to the base of his neck to stain the thin stretch of skin there.

“Oh, you–!” His eyes squeezed shut when your teeth carded along his jugular in warning.

The poor man looked two seconds away from a heart attack. His pupils almost turned to slits. He couldn’t tell whether he wanted to push you away or draw you closer. It was a mix of heat and blur that made his vision swirl with colour.

He felt unreasonably dizzy. He was grateful he was still sitting at his desk, for he was sure his knees would have given out beneath him otherwise.

Your lips pulled back for a moment. Sticky. He could smell a tinge of kiwi fruit from the gloss smeared over your lips. He was sure it was lathered all over his jaw like thick paste. The remaining hour of his shift would be a mix of rushing the rest of his report, and trying to scrub your makeup from his face.

Part of him wanted the stains to stay there, as unprofessional the thought was.

His silent brooding while your thighs warmed his were interrupted by approaching heels. Black kitten heels, to be exact, with a dark pinkish plum soles. He recognised her footsteps from miles away.

His heart stopped.

“Um… Doctor Ratio? I’m just receiving word that– oh my stars!”

Too late.

Veritas sprang from his seat, shoving you back into your own chair, much to your chagrin. Your hand fell from beneath the material of his shirt.

The damage had already been done, however.

Poor Lead Astronomer Asta stood frozen, face red, holding a clipboard with way too many pink highlighted paragraphs on the paper.

Veritas awkwardly cleared his throat, and tried to wipe the sticky gloss off his lips. “The report will be with you in an hour.”

Asta merely blinked at him. Her cheeks were brighter than her hair.

Her eyes then flitted towards you. She looked like she had seen a ghost.

You waved. “Hey, queen.”

Then, she nodded once in a greeting, squeaked an, “okay, thanks,” to the doctor and then rushed away, still hot in the face.

You could see the uneven rise and fall of Veritas’ chest. You were sure his heart was racing beneath his skin; yours was exactly the same, maybe arguably even quicker.

“Terrific.” Veritas turned his head to ridicule you. Scary for a dude with lipgloss smeared all over his face. “You’ve traumatised the poor girl.”

He heard you sigh. “I was just getting started.” You slouched in your chair, defeated. You checked your watch, noticing the giant seven tick over. “I’m hungry.”

“Eat, then. It’s dinner time.” He sat back down in his chair after he was sure he’d cleaned his face of your makeup.

“I was having dinner.” You finished the last of your soda and tapped at the can absentmindedly with your nails. “And was just getting to dessert.”

“You have an awful tongue.” He waved you off with his hands, fed up. “Now, shoo. I’m busy.”

“You’re so boring. What do you do for fun? Read?” He opened his mouth to answer, but you stopped him before he could embarrass himself even further. “Don’t answer that.”

Veritas rolled his eyes.

Instead, he chose to ignore you and pull the data back up onto his screen. His handwriting is still the most horrific thing you’ve ever seen, but it’s almost fascinating watching him write like that.

It’s just a line that only he can understand. Like his own nerd language.

You found it sort of hot.

Your eyes darted over to the bathroom door. “Hey, Doctor… What about–”

His eyes flared, and his grip on his pen grew tighter. He almost split a hole into the paper. "We are not having a rendezvous in the bathroom, nor will I be coming home with you.”

"Aww."

"But, for what's its worth, I commend your bravery in asking such a bizarre thing."

Ooh, praise. Lovely. "Eh." You clicked your tongue and leaned forward to kiss the side of his hair. “Worth a try.”

When you pull away, he does not look up, but his cheeks are tinged a lovely pink.

[cryptidghostgirl]

hiii can i request a silly little scene i have in my head? ok so!

alastor x wife! reader- theyve been together since they were alive, legit partners in crime they both encouraged eachother to kill and when they reunited in hell after around 8 years they were independent once again UNTIL They got in trouble with Lilith and she took reader to be like her slave until Alastor finished helping Charie with her dream (until he helped prove that demons can be redeemed) so they didnt see each other for another 7 years (his absence)

And all throughout the first season hes like “I miss my wife, Husk. I miss her a lot” (while drunk-) like that one sonic dub meme and starts shaping his shadow creature into reader and talking to it and everyone is like “m yep he’s officially lost it.”

BUT then Sir Pentious is redeemed and Lilith sees and shes like “damn :/“ and send reader to the new hotel via portal and reader just. falls on the ground in front of the big entrance and everyone hears it and they rush out and Alastor is quiet, wide eyed and reader goes smth like “i know- i shouldnt have accepted it in your name but-“ blah blah she rambles on about it and Alastor just goes “Youre as beautiful as the day I los you.” LIKE THAT HEARYBREAKING SCENE FROM HOW TO TRAIN YOUR DRAGON 2 ;-; and everyone reacts in their own way

I REALLY NEED THIS BUT I LACK THE ABILITIES TO DO IT HEEELP (love u)

A/N oh bestie,, i got you. I was actually planning on something similar where Alastor was getting drunk at a bar and talking about the love of his life (I'm still gonna write that one too but I really like this prompt!!) You guys really come up with the best requests, please keep sending them in.

Fuel and the Fire (Alastor x Wife!Partner-in-Crime!Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: ANGST also bad words (idk why i wrote the warnings like this). Also Angel Dust is in this one and I love him but he is a warning on his own.

Word Count: 2,392

Master Lists:

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List

Alastor and Y/n, partners in crime, the fuel and the fire. On a first glance, it would be assumed she was his fuel, the coal and dry leaves he fed himself by. Once anyone got to know them -- and god, what trouble a person was in if they got to know them -- they quickly realized it was the other way around.

Hand in hand from day one, from childhood. Running from the cops, washing the blood off one another's faces. In the living world and life after death, nothing could tear them apart. He was the soil she planted herself in, he was her rock and Y/n? Well she was Alastor's everything. He'd do anything at all for her, all she had to do was ask.

For a decade, they terrified the living world. They were the reason to double check the lock on the door before bed, they were the ominous shadow at the corner. When cold death wrapped them in his reckless grasp, they turned their terror on Hell.

The pair made a name for themselves quickly, filling up the airwaves and making waves in the underworld. For generations, they reigned supreme. For generations, they knew no fear. Then one day, they simply disappeared.

When Alastor reappeared on the streets seven years later without his shadow, the town was alight with gossip. No one knew where he had been, where she still was, or why he had returned but Alastor quickly rebuilt his operation, setting up shop at Lucifer's daughter's Hazbin Hotel along with several of the souls he owned.

The hotel's other residents and workers were distrustful of the man, to say the least. He was shifty, wore a constant smile, and rumors circled around him like birds of prey. That was until about three months into his stay, at least.

Angel hadn't meant to eavesdrop. He'd been coming down to the bar for a drink and a rant of his own when he'd heard the familiar, crackling voice of the Hotel's host.

"I just... I miss her so much, Husk."

He sounded sad, utterly dejected. Angel crouched down on the staircase, hiding his slim body behind one of the ornate posts supporting the railing.

"You keep saying that but do nothing to go find her. She disappeared the same time as you, you know." came Husk's gruff reply.

"I know she did."

"You keep saying that, acting like you know something. Admit it: you don't know shit, Alastor."

Alastor's radio waves faltered, squeaking slightly. Angel tensed in terror, wondering if he'd been found out. This was clearly a private conversation, and the Radio Demon was testy at the best of times. Right now he seemed positively furious.

"Don't test me, Husk." Alastor said after a moment, breaking the tense silence, "She... we both got roped into something. I am doing my part, she is doing hers."

Angel straightened himself up, deciding it was high time he entered the room. He still wanted that drink, after all. He let his feet fall heavily on the stairs, alerting the others to his presence. Husk turned toward the sound, meeting Angel's eyes as he entered the bar. Alastor, on the other hand, kept his back to the spider demon.

Taking a seat beside Alastor, Husk immediately poured Angel a drink and slid it across the counter towards him.

"So, tough night, Smiles?" Angel asked, turning to Alastor who downed the rest of his drink in a single gulp.

"I don't know what you're talking about, my good fellow." Alastor hummed in response.

There was a threat in his voice, but Angel could tell the demon's heart wasn't in it. Everything was just, odd.

"Yeah... sure..." Angel scoffed, taking a sip of his own drink.

"Radio man was crying to me about his wife five seconds ago." Husk grumbled and Angel's eyes went wide.

"You have a wife?" he asked, turning back to Alastor, "I mean, I get it. I'm in to the whole 'tall dark and creepy' thing too but, you care about someone? I don’t know if I can see it.”

Alastor's eyes narrowed as he turned on Husk. The cat demon rolled his eyes in a brazen display of disrespect. He knew his master well, knew this was the only thing he had any leverage with the man on. With a deep breath, Alastor placed his hands firmly on the bar top and pulled himself to his feet. Not saying another word, he disappeared into his shadows.

That had been the first odd occurrence. Of course Angel had told Charlie and Charlie had told everyone, had even approached Alastor about it. The Radio Demon brushed it all off with skill and for a while, things were quiet.

About a month later, the second strange thing began happening. Alastor had always had a certain sway over shadows, everyone knew that. However, he very rarely used them, brought them out if it wasn't to hide him or take him where he needed to be. Then, suddenly, one began to follow him.

"Uh, Alastor?" Charlie had timidly approached him the first time she saw this happening.

"Yes, Charlie my dear?" Alastor asked, turning to face her as he tossed his microphone in the air, catching it neatly in the center of the stand.

"Well, we were just wondering if everything was... okay?" she asked, her hands behind her back and a pointed gaze on the shadow.

"If everything..." Alastor trailed off, following the path of Charlie's gaze and realizing what was going on, "No, no my dear. Everything is quite all right, quite alright indeed."

"Well, okay... If you say so." Charlie had relented after a few moments, unsure of what else to do.

Eventually, the members of the Hazbin Hotel grew used to the shadows, they too slipped out of their minds. Overcome with impending doom of the extermination just a month away, Alastor's strange behavior was no longer a priority.

That had been until the third odd occurrence came into being. It was Sir Pentious who had noticed it first, drawing it to the group's attention as Alastor walked through the lobby and past the group doing trust exercises there on his way to some meeting or another with the other overlords.

"Sir Pentious?" Charlie had called, trying to bring him back to earth as he watched the place Alastor had occupied, "Sir Pentious?"

"Pentious!" Vaggie yelled and his head snapped to her, "You're not coming up with some new plan to attack Alastor, are you?"

"No!" he quickly exclaimed, waving his hands frantically in the air, "Not at all just..."

"What?" Vaggie asked through gritted teeth, advancing a step forward, her spear in hand.

"It's just... doesn't that shadow Alastor has had following him well.... doesn't it kind of look like a woman?"

Husk broke out into wild laughter while Angel widened his eyes.

"Oh, he's definitely lost it now." Husk exclaimed as he calmed himself, clutching his stomach, "If I knew Y/n was the secret to breaking him down, I woulda done something about it years ago."

"No you wouldn't have, ya big talker." Angel teased, elbowing the cat demon lightly.

"Y/n?" Sir Pentious asked.

"Alastor's wife. That was her name." Husk replied.

"Did you know her?" Charlie asked.

Alastor had left the hotel, the threat that had held their questions at bay for months was gone and the topic was right. Husk nodded.

"So, what's she like?" Angel asked suggestively, "Is she more of a dom? Does deer boy like to get dicked down by his lady?"

"Gross." Charlie shook her head, her hands to her temples, "I do not want to know that."

"She's a good kid." Husk said after a moment, "She's nice..."

He trailed off.

"But?" Vaggie prompted, sensing there was more that he wanted to say.

Husk sighed.

"If you think Alastor is trouble, she's a fucking house fire set for the insurance money."

"So probably not interested in being a guest." Charlie dejectedly stated.

Husk shrugged.

"You never know. It has been seven years since anyone has seen her. Alastor allegedly knows where she's at but, he hasn't gone after her. Just keeps whining to me about it so, I don't know. Maybe she's changed. I doubt it though. Sweet as a pea, sharp as a knife."

Charlie had never felt such relief as when she learned Alastor had not died in the chaos of the battle. The hotel was destroyed, heaven was pissed, Sir Pentious had died but, at least he was alright. They rebuilt the hotel, Alastor's same shadow of a woman trailing after him wherever he went. After about a week, thanks to all the angelic and demonic powers involved in the construction, the new Hotel was finished.

It was just as they put the finishing touches on the place, hung the portrait of Sir Pentious they'd commissioned above the fire place, that a portal opened in the lobby. Everyone tensed, banding together behind Charlie and Alastor. Angels were coming, they were sure of it.

A crash echoed from the other side, a sharp yell and then something tumbled through the portal. With a flash, the portal disappeared behind the shape of a person huddled on the floor. She coughed violently.

Alastor's eyes went wide. Everyone else was too distracted to notice, but if they'd have been paying attention, they would have seen his shadow disappear.

The girl was filthy, her clothes torn and her hair tangled. She let out another, sharp cough before slowly lifting her head. Alastor took a trembling step forward.

"Y/n?" he asked, his voice soft in disbeleif.

A smile, wide and sharp, split the woman's bruised face in two.

"Hey hun, I'm home."

In a flash, he was at her side, helping her to her feet, checking her for wounds.

"Jesus, Y/n." he sighed, "You're a mess."

"I know."

"Y/n-"

"I know. I shouldn't have done it, you don't need to lecture me. I didn't have a choice. It was you or me, Al. I couldn't... I can't... I had to. You've gotta understand."

"Sweetheart-"

Y/n cut him off again, her speech a single, constant, stressed-out stream.

"It was stupid, I know. I know. I really do but, she gave me the option and I couldn't say no cause then if I said no you'd really be the one in trouble a-"

Alastor raised a hand gently to her cheek and Y/n's words caught in her throat. She looked up at him, meeting his eyes at last.

"You're as beautiful as the day I lost you."

His voice was soft, so quiet the others could barely hear him. Y/n's cheeks flushed a bright pink. Her hands found the lapels of his jacket, holding them lightly.

"I.." she stuttered, her mind racing.

With a sigh and a slight shake of her head, she gave up in the search for words and buried herself in his chest. Alastor wrapped his arms around Y/n, pressing her tightly into his frame.

"God, I missed you." she said, her voice muffled by the fabric.

Alastor pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head.

"I love you." she continued, "I'm so sorry."

Alastor pulled her off of him, leaning down the slightest bit so they were eye to eye. Y/n, wiped a stray tear away, letting out a slight, sad laugh. Alastor's eyes traversed her face, caressing every crevasse.

"I'm so glad your alright but, I don't understand." he said at last, "How are you back? The deal..."

Y/n nodded and Alastor's eyes went wider still. Leaning on Alastor's shoulder for support, she turned her eyes onto the rest of the group.

"You must be Charlie." she hummed softly, meeting the young demon's gaze.

Taking a deep breath, Charlie stepped forward and nodded.

"Yes, I am. I run the Hazbin Hotel, which is where you are, to help rehabilitate sinners."

"I know." Y/n nodded, her voice quavering slightly, "I've heard so much about you. You... my dear, it worked."

"I- what?" every other question died in Charlie's throat, shock shot through her body like a bullet.

"It worked." Y/n confirmed, "You did it. I had a deal, a deal which Alastor went to your side to get me out of. If you succeeded in redeeming a soul with his aid, I would be free. And here I am."

"Here you are." Alastor repeated, spinning Y/n to face him once again.

She wobbled unsteadily on her feet. Catching sight of this along with the numerous wounds all over her body, Alastor scooped Y/n up into his arms like he did when they had first been married, when they had crossed the first threshold together. Y/n looped her arms around his neck, exhaustion seeping in with the relief as she let her head fall on his chest.

"Vaggie..." Charlie began as she turned to her girlfriend, "you don't think..."

"Pentious?" Vaggie asked and Charlie nodded.

"It's gotta be." Angel confirmed.

"You did good, kid." Husk smiled, patting Charlie on the back.

Y/n raised her head at the sound of a familiar voice, her eyes opening.

"Husker?" she asked with a smile.

The cat demon stepped forward, bowing slightly.

"Husker! I-"

"Enough of that, my love." Alastor cut her off, tapping her nose gently, "You need a shower and some rest. You can meet everyone in the morning."

Y/n crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes as she looked up at her husband.

"Promise?"

"Yes, I promise." he sighed.

"Does that mean you're staying?" Charlie asked tentatively and the couple turned to her.

"Whatever the little lady desires." Alastor stated, looking back down at his wife in a lovestruck daze.

"Yes, Charlie. We're staying." Y/n laughed, "Things need to start changing around here and I don't see anyone else doing a god damn thing to make that happen except for you."

"I.." Charlie was speechless, the kindness this fear inspiring woman was directing towards her, having never met her before. What Husk had said made sense, she smiled, "Thank you. I don't know what you did, but that you both so much."

"Anything for my favorite girl." Alastor kissed Y/n softly.

"Oh, get a room." Angel scoffed, rolling his eyes.

[hollowdeath]

injured (hjp)

pairing: harry james potter x fem!reader

summary: as hermione's new friend, you and harry are constantly bugging each other any time you're together. however, one day, during training for dumbledore's army, you get injured, causing harry to lash out before promptly carrying you to the infirmary.

word count: 2k

cw: mentions of blood, mostly just fluff, maybe slight angst if you squint hard enough

a/n: yet another lil sfw blurb i wrote between requests <3 hope yall don't mind, might do a part 2 if anyone wants it!

"does she always have to be invited to everything?" harry groans, nodding towards you as you continue trying to steal his scarf. you're both following behind ron and hermione through the snow on the way to hagrid's hut for tea. hermione laughs in response along with you. "yes, she does. it's nice having another girl around." she tells harry, giving you a shy smile. you return the same smile, reaching over to successfully steal harry's scarf from him. "yep, you're stuck with me, potter," you tease him, wrapping the scarf around yourself.

harry rolls his eyes, stealing the scarf back from you. "well, can't you ever bother hermione? your actual friend? or ron? why is it always me?" harry complained as he dodged another attempt at you taking his scarf. "they're not as fun to mess with," you whine, crossing your arms. hermione giggles, giving ron a knowing side-eye that he returns.

you narrow your eyes at their exchange. "what?" you ask them. hermione looks over her shoulder at you with the same smug expression before turning away and giggling again. "hermione," you warn her, uncrossing your arms. she just keeps laughing, only making you more suspicious. "nothing, [y/n]," she tells you sarcastically, shaking her head.

"yeah, mind your business, [y/n]," harry interjects. he flinches when you turn to look at him, making you laugh. "yeah, that's what i thought, potter," you say triumphantly, reaching for his scarf once more.

"seriously?" you ask harry as he takes yet another piece of food off your plate. he's holding back a laugh as he quickly eats it, giving you a devious look. "i asked if you were hungry and you said no! now keep your grubby fingers off my plate," you playfully scold him, pulling your plate closer to you. ron and hermione laugh, giving each other that same knowing look.

"oh i'm not hungry, i just know you hate people taking your food." harry says with a smirk, reaching his hand out again before you smack it away. "ow!" harry exclaims, holding his aching knuckles. "really? you steal my food all the time!"

you're the one smirking this time as you say, "yeah, but it's funny when i do it." taking another bite of your food, harry narrows his eyes at you. he waits for his chance and quickly sneaks another piece of food, successfully stealing it away as you try to stop him. "ha!" he laughs with his mouth full, pointing at you. you give him a look, which makes hermione laugh harder.

"you two are ridiculous," she sighs, taking a bite of her own food. "oh, come on, he started it!" you say with a hand pointed at harry. he pretends to bite your finger and you narrow your eyes at him, reaching to grab the glasses off his face. "no, no, no," harry warns you, frantically grabbing for the glasses to take them from your hands as you lean away from him. "ha!" you repeat after him, pointing at him as you continue pulling away from his grasp. harry leans across the table and nearly falls before he successfully snatches the glasses from your fingers. "ha!" he says again with a cocky smile, sitting down and placing them back on his face.

ron rolls his eyes, taking a sip of his drink. "i agree with hermione. ridiculous." he says with that same knowing smile. harry scoffs, giving ron a look. "whatever," he shrugs him off. "she started it," harry repeats after you, nodding in your direction as he tries to hide his smirk. you roll your eyes at him, but you're hiding the same devious smile.

"late again, ms. [y/l/n]?" harry asks you in a teasing voice as you walk down the hall towards the room of requirement. you rolled your eyes at him. "shut it, potter. just be glad i came." you snap back, giving him a smirk as you pass through the doorway.

harry followed you in, making sure no one was watching behind him. he began the meeting thanking everyone for coming back for yet another round of training for dumbledore's army, and wanted to go over defense tactics again. as he started reviewing all the different spells and wand movements from the week prior, he asked everyone to partner up and work on practicing them again.

the session was going really well, and harry was helping people individually to get the motions perfect. he was just working with a first year student when he heard a yell from behind him, followed by a crash and a crowd of gasps. harry spun on his heel to see hermione running from across the room, dropping her wand in the process. this immediately worried harry more.

he made his way to the gathering crowd in the corner when he heard hermione say your name in exasperation. harry's pace picked up and he pushed himself through the crowd of students urgently.

he found hermione kneeling at your side, blocking his view of you. only your converse-covered feet littered with rubble and dust were visible from his angle. harry quickly rushed to your other side, his stomach dropping at the sight of your unconscious body, freezing completely when he notices blood coming from under your shirt. hermione was checking your breathing and heartbeat and trying to wake you up. harry's shock flipped into anger within a second, turning to the crowd that had gathered around you.

"who did it?" he asked, his tone rough and impatient. everyone stayed quiet hearing how upset harry was. they had never seen him be anything other than shy, kind, and timid.

"well? who was her partner? huh? who the fuck hit her?" harry yells the last part, causing a few students flinch.

"harry. it was an accident." hermione snaps towards him, causing him to look back at her. he's breathing heavily, staring into hermione's narrowed eyes as she holds your hand in hers.

harry's anger subsided, if only for a moment, seeing your shirt start to stain with blood. his anger was replaced with concern, dropping to one knee and picking you up in his arms. "harry," hermione tries to stop him, but harry interrupts her. "i'm taking her to the infirmary now. i'll make up something on the way. send everyone home." he tells hermione in a rushed voice as he carefully adjusts you in his arms, your neck limp as your head falls into harry's chest.

he rushes out of the room, ron holding the doors open for him, giving him a tight smile with worried eyes. "she'll be alright, mate," ron tries to reassure him, but harry's already practically jogging to the hospital wing.

a few hours later the sun has long since set, and you open your eyes to a dark room lined with windows showing the stars outside. you try to sit up in the bed you're lying in and you're immediately hit with an intense wave of pain, making you groan and wince. you notice movement to your right and turn to see harry's sleeping body on a chair pulled up beside your cot. you hadn't even seen him at first, so you were a bit surprised, letting out a gasp at his sudden presence.

this wakes him up, his eyes snapping open towards you and standing from his uncomfortable sleeping position to come to your side. "[y/n]," he says softly, his voice still groggy, hands resting on your shoulders to lay you back down again. you groan again as you lie back, your face twisted in pain. harry winces just the same, moving the pillow under you to better support your neck.

"i know, it's okay, you're okay," he coos. you look at him weirdly, never experiencing this caring side of him so intimately. "what happened?" you ask, glancing at the IV machine attached to your arm. "am i in the infirmary?"

harry sighs, his eyes searching you carefully for any discomfort. "yes, you are. your bloody first year partner hit you with his stupefy and nearly killed you." harry informed you, his voice gradually getting angrier before stopping himself to take a deep breath. "sorry. i didn't mean that. all you got was a concussion, and a nasty scar on your stomach. but, he could've hurt you worse," harry tells you, the anger returning any time he mentions your partner. "i swear to you, [y/n], he's never coming to another practice again. and i don't care if he tells the whole school, that kid is finished."

you can't help but chuckle at how riled up harry is, earning a confused look from him. you shake your head weakly. "it was probably just an accident, potter. no need to pitch a fit." you tell him with that same smirk as always. harry's body relaxes, breathing a sigh of relief at your nonchalant reaction and usual sarcasm making its return. though he wants to roll his eyes at how unaffected you are learning about your injuries, he's too concerned to even pretend to joke.

"wait, how did i get here? i don't even remember walking in," you say in confusion, trying to recall the afternoon. harry awkwardly shifts his weight beside you. "yeah, um, well, i had to carry you." he tells you. you shoot him a look full of confusion, shock, and humor. "you? you carried me across the school?" you ask with an incredulous chuckle. "you were unconscious! and bleeding! i had to get you here quickly." harry defends himself, throwing his arms up.

you laugh and shake your head again, rubbing your face. "since when have you started caring about my well being, potter? i thought i was just a pest to you," you inquire, cocking an eyebrow at harry. he nervously blinks and looks away from you, clearing his throat. "you were under my supervision, didn't want you to sue me or anything." harry says with a smirk, still awkwardly shifting his weight back and forth with his hands in his pockets.

"right," you scoff at him jokingly.

harry sighs, pulling his seat closer to your bed so he can sit down again. "look," he says, his eyes still not quite meeting yours. "i know we joke around a lot, and, y'know, you may even actually annoy me a bit sometimes…" he trails off, chuckling to himself. you lightly slap his leg closest to you, holding back your own laugh.

"but, seeing you like that on the ground, seeing the blood, i was terrified. i didn't know if you were okay and that killed me. i don't know what i would've done if…" he trails off again, his voice caught in his throat.

you give harry a sympathetic smile, studying his tired face. he was looking towards the ground, his hair disheveled, glasses hanging low on the bridge of his nose. he looked upset as his eyebrows furrowed together in thought.

"did you stay here all day?" you asked him softly. harry looks up at you with surprise, his eyes studying yours. "yeah," he says simply. you look to your left towards a grandfather clock and see it's nearly 3 in the morning.

you give him another curious look. "harry," you start to say, but you're at a loss for words. he chuckles again, his eyes still studying yours intently. "i wasn't leaving. the nurses nearly fought me multiple times." he tells you bluntly. you laugh, wincing at the pain it causes you, but can't hold back. "harry, you didn't have to do that."

harry gives you a half hearted smile. "i know," he shrugs.

you return the smile. "well, thank you, then. for waiting and for bringing me here." you thank harry genuinely, causing him to blush and wave you off. you reach out to poke his sides in attempt to tickle him. "and i guess you really do care, hm?" you tease him.

harry squirms away and laughs, his blush intensifying. "yeah, yeah, whatever."