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celtrist · 9 months ago

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This was the piece that I had started before my extensive vacation (of coughing). Once again, Alastor is consistently the bane of my existence with his... well everything.

No matter! Anyway, this is something I like to call the Obsession AU. To sum it up real fast: Everyone is yandere for Alastor. I think it would just be apart of his punishment in Hell, being consistently forced into or desired in romantic/sex which he's never had much interest in. I would describe it as a dark comedy thing, but it can be as comedic or as dark as you want here. With that said, please be on guard with any mentions of darker content that treds towards a certain dead bird territory when I get a bit into how I imagine some of the characters. Again, it doesn't have to go that far if you're interested in this premise of an au and wanna focus on the more light hearted stuff, feel free.

This au is just poking a bit of fun at how everyone in the fandom wants to put Alastor in romantic situations constantly (whether it be with themselves or the other characters) despite Alastor probably being the least interested in the subject in the whole show. This is by no means a hate train or making fun of people who do enjoy shipping Alastor, it just more of a funny thing I think comes off as pretty ironic for his character and hopefully, others can enjoy that too. In this au he leans pretty much on the clear-cut side of aromantic and asexual with no interest in romantic affections at all. With that said, if you want to explore Alastor genuinely being interested in one of the other characters romantically or something similar, feel free to explore that! I can see some interesting dichotomies there. It's just within the actual "canon" of this au, he's not at all interested with that sort of thing. And just with a last final reminder to get into some character things I have in mind, some of the content mentioned does get pretty dark, particularly with Valentino but I don't think anyone's surprised there. But there might be some triggering content of the following mentioned here with characters but no crazy details really: Manipulation/Gaslighting, forced feminization, Non-con, Munchausen syndrome, Poisoning, Possessive, Drugging, Love bombing And I will be sure to give a quick warning to each character it might apply to, please feel free to let me know if I missed anything!

Rosie (Munchausen syndrome, Poisoning): Rosie has 100% poisoned Alastor before to make sure he relies on her. They started off as good friends but at some point Alastor began getting ill and Rosie offered to take care of him. This leads to Alastor staying in bed for full days, only really seeing Rosie who took care of his every need from food, clothing, washing, and so on. At some point, Alastor caught on that Rosie was putting something in his food to make him sick and he managed to escape with their friendship tarnished much to his dismay. He's often uneasy around Rosie but is upfront about his knowledge of Rosie's deeds. Rosie, in turn, acts like it is a lighthearted situation and often offers Alastor over for lunch, which he often denies. Any food he gets at his doorstep from a secret admirer or a lunchbox he finds at his seat in an overlord meeting goes straight into the trash. Alastor will still use Rosie's assets to his benefit of course, but is always careful as to what she might try to get in exchange. He has had more awkward lunches with her with his homemade meal versus the buffet she catered for the occasion, with the two gossiping like old times. Alastor is still uneasy during these times, but he also revels in the false pleasantries due to not having many others he's able to associate himself with due to the curse.

Lucifer (Controlling, Possessive, Manipulation): So I'm not 100% clear how I wanted to approach Lucifer. He and Charlie are probably the most similar I suppose? He wants Alastor as his queen (either alongside him and Lilith or only with him, he doesn't mind either way). He doesn't force him into dresses or anything, but Lucifer does consistently make doting moves and talks about how Alastor would make a good father to their children. Marriage is one of the mind and Lucifer probably gets a bit possessive with him. He also tries to guilt trip Alastor a lot, or manipulate situations in one of their arguments to get Alastor to say something he doesn't mean.

Charlie (Controlling, Possessive): Probably the most tame of everyone quite honestly. Charlie can be a bit controlling but does step off when Alastor expresses his dislike of her doing so, even if it takes a couple times. She likes doing things for him, is super affectionate, and daydreams about her, Vaggie, and Alastor all getting married. She can get pretty possessive with him, not being pleased when anybody does anything against Alastor's will or hurt him. The only exception to this rule is Vaggie, to which Charlie sees it like two cats getting along and finds it very endearing.

Vaggie (Forced Feminization, Controlling, Murder): Depending on how you look at it, Vaggie's one of the more fucked up obsessions or one of the more funnier ones. Because she's automatically inclined to like Alastor quite a bit with the curse thing but her personality doesn't jive with his for her own taste (in terms of their first meeting), she both hates and loves the guy. She's obsessed with trying to murder Alastor with traps around the hotel or outright standing over him with her spear. The hatred comes primarily from not wanting to feel the way she does about him, I guess like a fucked up tsundere if you wanna go that route. At the same token, however, she does want Alastor to be involved with both her and Charlie romantically. There's just one little problem: Vaggie has about the same amount of interest in men as she does in canon. So to sort of "fix" Alastor, she consistently tries to force him to be more feminine in clothing, offering different feminine names, and even trying to force him to get a sex change. Alastor is pretty slippery though, so it never quite works out in Vaggie's favor aside from the occasional dress or skirt being worn, which solidifies her attraction to him. Then he takes it off and looks more like a man again, and it solidifies her frustration/hatred for him.

Angel Dust (Drugging): To start, while I think Angel would love to have sex with Alastor, he 100% would not force it. Wouldn't even do touches or anything. Potentially he could just like as a coping (to be in a situation where HE'S the one in control), but that is a darker route that I don't think will be exactly true for this AU. However, he very much enjoys drugging Alastor similar to Rosie. Not only just as a bonding thing since Angel would also do the drugs WITH him, but just to get the not-quite-lucid compliments from Alastor and maybe a snuggle then and there. He wants to dote on Alastor with him drugged out in his bed saying nice things to Angel. Admittedly this one's a bit of a workshop as I just knew I didn't want Angel to be focused on sex like somebody, but wasn't sure what to do here.

Valentino(Non-con, LoveBombing): I mean... it is Valentino, what did you THINK he'd be trying to do with Alastor? There's really not much to say here, Valentino essentially tries pulling all the stops trying to get Alastor in bed while also love-bombing the hell out of him. Which really doesn't work. Valentino is pretty open with sharing Alastor, but again, does this surprise anyone? As long as he's participating in some way, he really doesn't mind.

Vox (ALL warnings): Pretty much the worst version of himself that people make him be sometimes for those darker stories in the fandom. While more interested in having an enthusiastic partner, I don't think Vox would be opposed to forcing himself onto Alastor. He consistently tries to manipulate and gaslight, while enjoying both the suffering and pleasure of Alastor. Much like Vaggie, Vox is obsessed both being in love with Alastor while also downright hating him to the core. He's possessive and likes the idea of being both sweet and heinous with Alastor. He pretty much is every other character wrapped up in one fucked up TV man. Vox acts the most well-adjusted of the characters here, but he's probably got the obsession the worst.

And of course, pretty much every other conceivable ship is up for grabs here. I did think about maybe unfallen angels are able to resist the obsession curse, which would possibly make a funny team-up of Alastor, Adam, Lute, and Emily. Alternatively, I thought maybe the other canonically asexual characters in the show wouldn't be affected instead, meaning another oddball team-up of Alastor, Octavia, and Mammon. Then there is of course the "nope, there's no escape for deer man". Not sure yet, maybe I'll workshop it. I have more normal things in the works rather than this messed up little au, but darker content is a guilty pleasure of mine.

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potato-lord-but-not · 7 months ago

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Holy Ghosts plotline where the two go back to Harper’s Hill and Noel has to confront the life and people he left behind and come to terms with the fact that the only person Charlie Dowd is dead to is himself????

In other words- PotatoLord Lily designed just dropped

also some ramblings + some doodles about this plotline under cut

OK SO - for the sake of the holy ghosts lore, Anna lived outside of Harper’s Hill for longer than in her canon lore, and she kept in touch with the group after leaving for Arkham. Lily, Noel, and Charlie were all childhood best friends, with Anna joining their group in their early teens. As fresh new adults Noel and Charlie became law enforcement, Lily became a nurse, and Anna moved out of town. Charlie and Noel were drafted, only Charlie came back, and he didn’t stay for long. After establishing himself in Arkham with Roland, he wrote Lily often, and visited Anna when he could.

I still gotta get my head straight around the like. canon happenings after that. but just know I’m cooking ok-

for the holy ghosts plot, I’m thinking that after Charlie’s dad passed when he was still in the dreamlands, all of Charlie’s old belongings (that were moved out of the office in Arkham) were given to Lily. Oscar suggested they needed more information about these supernatural creatures, and suggested they look for Charlie and Roland’s old notes and the like. Charlie catches wind of their whereabouts, and the two plan to get his stuff and leave without drawing any attention.

From there I’m not entirely sure how I want things to unfold, but just know Lily definitely finds out he’s alive and hadn’t bothered to tell her. Between Charlie having to explain where he’s been the past decade, why he never reached out even when he did make it back, and Anna unfairly blaming him for Sarah dying- our man is not having a good time. and Oscar’s over there like man you used to live here???

anyway ty for hearing me out here’s a Noel Finley and the gang as youngsters :3

#IM BEING INCOHERENT AND IM SORRY #IM ILL ABOUT THEM #AND I WANT TO ACTUALLY MAKE A COMIC SO BAD #I may just….#artists on tumblr #malevolent #malevolent fanart #malevolent podcast #holy ghosts #oscar malevolent #charlie dowd #detective noel #noel finley #lily malevolent #anna stanczyk

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thekeeperof-thefandoms · 1 year ago

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My girlfriend requested this

Hazbin men trying the period simulator. Somewhat of a follow up to my period post so this is based on the reader having severe period pain due to PCOS/ENDO

Lucifer

The man is sweating before you even attach the simulator. He knows he fucked up. He only agreed to this because he loves you a lot.

He handles the first 3 levels ok. You tell him very few women experience that little pain and that usually 4-6 is the average.

Those levels make him tense. He's uncomfortable, but still pretty able to work and do normal things. 5 has him pausing to do deep breaths every now and then. (If this is the canon timeline where he birthed Charlie he compares it to bad kicks).

6-8 he's pretty much doubled over. If you tell him that's the level you experience, he will cry. Literally begs forgiveness since again, period and labor pain is technically his fault. He is so sorry. If he didn't have issues with his Dad before he does now because this is fucked up. God's fucked up for doing this.

He doesn't make it to 10, he's crying by level 9. This is labor levels of pain. He gets why all you do is sleep. Treats your period like a sacred ritual after that. Preps for weeks. He goes full Bible, sheltering you for the duration of it so you can have peace and quiet. Please never hook him up to this again.

If you wear it at anything from an 8-10 and tell him "It's close, but I've hurt worse" he's gonna sob and then try and fight his Old Man again. He'll settle for offering to have your bits removed for you.

Vox

Once again this man hates admitting he was wrong. And yeah he knows your periods are really bad, especially now he's witnessed it. But it's still a huge knowledge gap for him and he doesn’t really take the time to think about it.

He handles 1-5 well. He's mildly uncomfortable by 5, but thinks that if this is the average experience, then it's not such a big deal. Tell him the statistics on how many people with periods actually experience 6-8 because that's actually the majority, and he's just confused. How is the average pain level not the most common?

6-8 has him gritting his teeth and glitching, but he refuses to stop and keeps trying to work. Is starting to wonder how you went so long working with this level of pain without him noticing.

He makes it to 10, but by then, he's unable to move, clutching his abdomen and sparking and glitching. Tells you it feels like his entire insides are being squeezed. The fact that he can feel it in his groin. He's kind of afraid of period sex with you after that because of how much he felt it. And you said it's caused cramps from your ribs to your knees. He's like... genuinely scared of your period and pain tolerance.

He's going to snuggle the fuck out of you afterwards and apologize for not appreciating how much you still do for him when you're not feeling good. How he didn't see how hurt you were. He does a lot of research after that and not only does he spoil you by buying whatever you need for your periods and giving you time off, he looks into treatment options. Even if that means chopping the useless fucking things out. Sinners can't have kids anyway so who needs ovaries and a uterus?

He's more convinced you should just be rid of the damn things when you wear it and 8-10 is "Yeah, this is close, but it doesn't really cover how much of my body hurts".

Valentino

Is only doing this because he was dared to by Velvette. Or if this an au where he's trying to be a less toxic person. But really I think it's also to prove that you're all being dramatic. It's a perfectly normal body function and his employees are just trying to get out of work.

He gets all the way to 6 before he starts to realize he may have fucked up. Especially when it's explained that this is what most people experience.

By 10 he's gritting his teeth, chain smoking, clawing at things. He refuses to give in, but he can count on one hand the number of things in his entire life and death as a pimp and a whore that he's experienced that come close to this level of pain.

No one told him his dick was gonna hurt. Sitting hurts. Breathing hurts. He doesn't even try to eat. He won't ever admit to being wrong, but he does behave more leniently with his actors when they're on their periods.

If you put it on (and lets say he actually cares about you) and setting 8-10 is "Yeah, this an average day for my cramps. My bad days are like..5 or 6 levels worse" it's gonna rearrange his brain a little. He might be a little afraid of you and some of the other actors with periods because your pain tolerances are so high. It threatens his ability to control you and them. But on the other hand, that's kinda hot???

Alastor

Has never once doubted that people who experience periods undergo serious struggle and has nothing but respect for women (and trans people he just associates it with women more because of the time period and his mama) who work through it.

He is actually the one who heard about the simulator through Rosie and asks you to show him your experience. Just to better understand you. He knows you're the type to try and function through the pain (probably because society ingrained into you that your pain doesn't matter).

Initially, he wants to skip the lower levels and just have you set it to your pain level. You tell him that's a bad idea, and to be honest, you're not sure if this thing goes that high. He asks you to check and you set it to the highest setting and say, "It's pretty close. It's been worse, but this is a rough idea," he's a little frustrated but still tries it.

You agree to set it to 4 and tell him 4-6 is what most people report feeling. He acknowledges it, registers it as unpleasant, but otherwise is fully capable.

7-9 has his ears flat, his smile is more a snarl. This is uncomfortable. Not what he considers painful but certainly irritating. It makes sitting, stretching, and eating feel much more difficult.

10. There's static visble around him. His teeth grind. Actually painful. Not the worst pain he's experienced, but he hates it. He hates the way he feels it in his back and hips as he walks. He hates the way taking deep breaths (which for someone as dramatic as he is and with the transatlantic accent, breathing technique and posture is important) stings. He hates the way it causes his stomach to cramp and churn. He hates the ache in his thighs and groin that make sitting feel stiff and ackward. He can only picture how blood loss would make this worse. Tired, losing nutrients, the headaches, the increased moodiness. It's no wonder you sleep, so much, but he wonders how the Hell you sleep like this? He's snappy and short tempered because of the pain (and again he gets why you would be if you weren't sleeping so much).

How does this affect how he treats you?

Not much. He still expects you to know your body and your limits. He would never dare to presume otherwise. He still helps prepare whatever you need for your time of the month and still meal plans for you, though he perhaps finds ways to ensure you get all the iron and vitamins you need without cooking steak and other big, heavy meals, since he now understands how bad your stomach hurts.

The only really noticeable change is how much more protective of you he is. Your time of the month hits, and Alastor hates being more than a few moments from you. He growls, pins his ears, and his antlers grow when people get too close to you. He's more prone to letting you snuggle with him when you want, trying to comfort you.

Angel Dust

Another who volunteered. His girl besties insist he doesn't have to do this, he's got the pass. He still wants to do it though, for solidarity.

He also starts on 4 and handles it well. He handles all of the levels pretty well, even 10. By 7 it's obvious he's sore, maybe a bit more withdrawn, exhausted, trying not to move too much or eat too much. Just trying to find a comfortable way to exist. The sad problem is, Angel already has to do this after rough nights at Val's.

He's used to sitting being uncomfortable and aches in his groin and thighs, cramps in his stomach from muscles clenching constantly. 10 is the only level where he's visibly ill, hunched over, lower arms curled around his midsection protectively.

He and the girlies all curl up together and nap and chat and snack on easy to digest junk food and granola bars. He's the first one to say "I bet it's even worse for you gals, but I tried".

He gets it. He's one of the girls. Honestly, kind of becomes a favorite when the ladies have period problems. (If you're dating any of the others and Angel is openly your favorite after this it is gonna cause a lot of dramatic pouting, posturing, and tantrum throwing.)

Husk

I'm going full balls to the wall on Veteran Husk. This man has seen some shit and dealt with his fair share of pain. Like Angel he takes it the best, with very little outward reaction. He's used to stiffness and nausea. The pain in his crotch is a little off putting, but it could be worse.

He's more cautious how he moves, rests more, occasionally a cramp causes his ears to pin back or a small hiss. Overall he takes it like a champ.

Offers you endless amounts of supportive words for dealing with this as well as you do, for days on end. Also is deeply sorry you even have to put up with this shit. Offers all sorts of tips on how to do stretches that help with easing cramps and stiffness without pulling something. Tips of foods/protein drinks to keep on hand to make sure you're maximizing how much nutrition you get. Man's a whole ass survival guide.

He only offers advice if you ask, though. He's not mansplaining how to handle your own body. He genuinely wants to help you, and that's the best way he knows how.

When you're on your period and just want something soft and warm he doesn't even bitch about it, he just settles on top of you and purrs, offers a massage, maybe offers a sly grin and a "no man left behind" joke as he helps you through these dark times.

BONUS:

ADAM

Would only do this if you challenged him, he has to prove his masculinity. He is definitely nervous as fuck though because he's seen yours. You and Lute already forced him to sit through a whole PowerPoint on women's anatomy and shit. He remembers how shitty he was to Eve, even if hers were in comparison, not that bad, just scary and new.

You forcing him to learn about and acknowledge female health is making him scared of pussy. This isn't gonna help.

3 and 4 make him whiney. He's uncomfortable. His groin feels weird. This sucks. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN THIS ISN'T EVEN THE AVERAGE?!"

By 5-7 he's actually on his knees, curled over his stomach. He tells you getting stabbed hurt less. This is making him re-evaluate his entire view on women (again he knows about trans people, but because of personal history equates periods to women. Wouldn't hate if a trans person had a period, it would just take his brain a second to process). He whines that you and Lute shouldn't be more badass than him.

"I thought men were supposed to be tougher and stronger. This pain tolerance horseshit is a lie. You guys suck."

He insists on going to 10 because quitting is for losers. He may actually throw up at 10 though. Every time the stupid simulators sends out a pulse and his stomach clenches, he groans. He's in the featal position, there are tears. One hand clenches his stomach the other is cupped around his groin. He's apologizing so much and he doesn't even remember what he's apologizing for. At one point its just "I'm sorry...oh fuck this...sorry about...ugh just...just men?! I guess. Fucking shit ass. Men suck. Women are...fucking great. Aces. You do this shit every month? For like 5 days....what the fuck. What the fuck what the fuck."

You feel a little bad, but Lute is definitely filming this. Afterwards, he tells you you're a badass and any person shit talking people for bitching about period pain (Not that a lot of Winners do, but ya know, obviously they let some questionable people into Heaven if Adam and Lute got by) he's gonna beat the shit out of them. Like "Do you even fucking know, bitch? They're literally so much fucking better than you. Absolute queens. You try doing literally anything when it feels like your dick is falling off and your insides are trying to claw outside your body!"

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel lucifer #vox x reader #hazbin hotel valentino #lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel angel dust #hazbin hotel husk #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel adam

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yesihaveaobsession · 1 year ago

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Date Me?

Alastor x female reader

Summary: The old timer aka Alastor attempts to ask the reader (you) out Infront of everyone at the hotel.

A/N- Enjoy Ya'll!! :) I would be scared to date him. BUT like he said it'll be interesting SOOO why not?!

You sat at the hotel’s bar, striking up a conversation with Husk, totally oblivious to the red eyes locked on you. Alastor. His eyes had been on you ever since you stepped into the hotel, and he’d been wanting to ask you out since then. However, he’d hidden himself in his room or the radio tower because he had no idea how to ask you out properly.

Being a charmer himself, you’d think he would know how, but he was still quite literally living in the past. It was hard for him to figure it out without asking for help or using wretched technology. He could ask Rosie or Charlie, but they would make such a big deal about it, and frankly, it would ruin his reputation.

So, he sat in his armchair in the lobby, taking a sip from his ‘oh deer’ mug and adjusting his position, fixing his newspaper to make it seem like he was reading it while catching glances of you laughing with Husk.

Alastor could not be apart of the party! So he put his newspaper on the side table next to his mug and made his way over to you. Butterflies filled his stomach; he was going to do it. Alastor fixed his suit and bow tie, cleared his throat, and leaned on the bartop next to you. The conversation ended as you smiled at him.

"Ah, my dear... a moment of your time, please!"

You gave him a small nod, tilting your head. "Sure, Alastor, what’s up?" You were just so sweet and understanding that he couldn’t fathom how you ended up in hell in the first place.

"I have been pondering the concept of... companionship, you see," he leaned in closer to you, still smiling and winked. "And I find myself in need of a consort, a partner in crime, if you will."

Charlie leaned in closer to Vaggie, blocking her mouth to not be rude, and whispered, "Is he really doing what I think he’s doing?" Vaggie's expression was laced with shock. Out of everyone to confess, Alastor was the last on her list. Charlie practically had hearts in her eyes as she watched the interaction. "Yep, this is happening."

Angel, who perked up from the couch, smirked and snorted. "This oughta be good."

Alastor felt like leaning on the bartop wasn’t him, so he straightened back up. "In my time, we had a more... refined approach to such matters. So, if you would be so kind as to indulge this old soul, I would be honored if you would consider becoming... my girlfriend."

You were more confused than anything. Alastor, the Radio Demon, asking you to be his girlfriend? You must be dreaming. You blinked and were surprised. "Your girlfriend?"

Alastor nodded vigorously, his smile never faltering. "Indeed! We could embark on all sorts of delightful mischief together! Picture it: you and I, ruling the airwaves, spreading chaos and charm throughout Hell!" Husk watched the scene unfold in front of him and muttered into his drink, "This is too rich."

Charlie was clinging to Vaggie but was finally pushed off. She then jumped up and down, clapping her hands. "Oh, Alastor, that’s actually kind of sweet, in your own twisted way!"

Angel Dust rose from the couch, let out a laugh, and slapped his knee. "Oh man, he really went for the whole package deal!"

You considered his offer; he had also treated you nicely when you first arrived. "Alright, Alastor, I'll give it a shot. But only if you promise to keep things interesting."

He bowed deeply, causing you to let out a giggle, and he locked eyes with you. "My dear, with me, 'interesting' is guaranteed." He then straightened up, and you smiled at him, taking his claw in your hand. "Well, Radio Demon, looks like you got yourself a girlfriend." You thought his attempt to ask you out was adorable, and when you agreed, you saw the way his eyes lit up; it warmed your heart.

He beamed, "Excellent! Let the chaos commence!"

#alastor #hazbin hotel #the radio demon #alastor x you #hazbin alastor #alastor imagine #alastor x reader #i have an obsession

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writteninlunarlight-years · 8 months ago

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Older

This is for the @6esiree contest that they are holding! I hope you enjoy it, and even if it doesn't perform well, I am glad to have made something long! Word Count 3.5k Alastor x Gen Z Reader Based on Song Older by Isabel LaRosa TW: Sexual content, stubbornness, gen gap, age gap, tentacles, begging

Dying wasn’t the first thing on your list of exciting things to do. I mean, yes, you were a 23-year-old living in 2024, so of course, your will to live was low, but that didn’t mean you were ready for it when it happened. No, instead, death came hard and fast, all because you had some serious FOMO and a quite pitiful YOLO moment.

One minute, you were having a great night out with friends, you had a handsome silver fox wrapped around your finger, and then the next thing, you woke to a red landscape of what you only assumed was hell. With your life, it made sense why ‘Hell’ was where you ended up. You died partying and sleeping with the older man, so it only made sense that this was where you would consequently end up.

A deep sigh left you as you looked at the chaos around you. The only good thing you saw so far out of this event was that you didn’t have bills to pay anymore. It looked like as long as you played your cards right, you could get anything here without needing money. As that thought crossed your mind, an ad for redeeming sinners played on a nearby radio.

The voice on the radio was alluring as all hell and had you questioning your life and undead choices. Not even five minutes into being dead, and you are already fawning over an older man's voice. It's good to know that living habits don’t die with you in the afterlife.

Your resolve not shaken, you make your way to where the voice spoke of the Hazbin Hotel and find yourself at the base of a hill, looking up at a grand building with flashing lights. A shiver runs up your spine as you realize how powerful whoever runs this place must be. Maybe pretending to want to be saved would be well worth your time, then.

Let’s get one thing straight here: you are no damsel; you may like your men older, but that doesn’t mean you need one. No, you are an independent queen who can do what she pleases. She just also realizes when to fold and when to hold her hand. Right now, seeking refuge from the fires and sex work was worth it; however, that didn’t mean you wouldn’t earn your keep all the same.

While you thought about these prospects and made your way up to the door, you noticed it was open without you even having to knock. Pushing your head through more of the door, it was clear to see what type of establishment this was…a chaotic one.

Just standing in the entryway, the sights before you were hilarious and intriguing. A cat at the bar grumbled as he watched a spider dance on the bar. A young lady resembling a lamb hurriedly tried to stop the provocative dancing while a gray woman yelled at the spider. A cyclops laughed hysterically while tossing what you could only imagine was a bomb. A small woman rushed around laughing and stabbing the air while a man who looked a little like the lamb girl walked through the room.

The deer caught your eye the most, though, and it seemed you caught his, too, as he was the only one looking at you and your entrance. You two held eye contact, a shiver running up your spine. Oh, you definitely could get used to staying here.

Nodding more to yourself than the deer man, you walked in further and cleared your throat, everyone stopping to look at you. With a slight wave, you smiled brightly and introduced yourself. “Heya, I’m Y/N. Nice to meet ya,”

The room was silent, causing you to laugh awkwardly. As you slowly backed away, thinking maybe this wasn’t a great idea, the lamb girl came over and jumped on you. Holding your arms and bouncing, she spoke excitedly.

“Oh my goodness, a new arrival! Hi, my name is Charlie. I am the hotel's owner,” She beamed proudly at the statement and motioned to the others all in the lobby area of the room, “And this is the Hazbin Hotel residents and staff! The cat is Husk, then Angel Dust, Vaggie, Cherri, Nifty, my father,” She leaned in and whispered, “Also known as Lucifer,”

Laughing at your surprised face, she pointed to the deer man last. “This is Alastor. He is the hotelier; he helps me run the hotel! Was it his broadcast that brought you in?”

You shook your head at the information overload and laughed softly. Nodding to the question, you looked at everyone around. “Yes, I actually passed not too long ago, and as I was weighing my options on where to go, I heard the message on the radio.”

Charlie beamed proudly at Alastor, who just smiled at you precisely as he had been this entire time. You couldn’t lie. He was drop-dead gorgeous. He was tall and fit, and if his voice sounded anything like how it did on the radio, you would be a goner for sure. He was an enigma and one you knew you had to be careful of if you wanted to make it out of this hotel with your head screwed on straight.

“My my, I am quite honored my radio show was able to bring in a petal quite like yourself, dear,” He spoke so smoothly, and you knew right then how right you were; you were a goner. “I do hope you are staying here with us to be redeemed as Miss Charlotte wishes; I am eager to learn…more about you, miss Y/N.”

You swallowed thickly, nodding. Looking at the others, you laughed and began some small talk while they decided where would be the best place to put you. The conversations ranged from how everyone died to how people got here, and you learned more about how hell worked. Learning that Alastor owned many souls only made him more appealing and dangerous.

As Charlie led you to your room, she made sure to inform you of the dangers of getting mixed up with Alastor. Being mindful of her warnings and the blaring alarms in your head that did not match the alarms between your legs, you made it a goal to avoid falling for Alastor at all costs. Oh, how wrong you were for that.

Alastor had his eyes on you the minute he felt your presence near the hotel. You were unlike any other woman he had seen. You looked young and still full of life, so how could someone like you have died so carelessly? Not to mention, he did find you oddly attractive, and your calm demeanor was refreshing. He wanted you and in more ways than just your soul.

He knew the best way to any woman's heart was to court her and get her to fall for him slowly till she needed him and him alone. However, you were a tricky one to get under the skin of. You were so damn stubborn and stuck in your ways of being the lead in your own life that allowing him any control seemed futile. However, the challenge you possessed was all the more thrilling to him.

It started off simple: He escorted you around the hotel. He wanted to lead you around like a gentleman, but you had your own plans. As he talked and explained a specific part of the hotel, your attention was elsewhere in your explorations.

“Y/N, dearest, are you even paying attention?” he asked you sharply as you looked at the paintings for the millionth time since your arrival. You really wanted to listen to him, but this was kind of boring. After becoming close with the others, you were eager to hear more about their lives than be trapped with the man you swore not to sleep within this proximity to you.

“Sorry, Alastor. Yes, I am listening. I was just wondering about some of the paintings; they are quite pretty.” You were honest, at least in the fact that you enjoyed the paintings. Someone had a knack for art, and you were not shy to admit it. However, when you soon learned it was he who chose all the art minus a handful, you quickly shut down your praise.

The next time Alastor tried to win you over and claim your soul was when he began opening doors for you. He never thought the day would come when he saw someone challenge him so brazenly. However, that was probably the day he fell in love with you, as he allowed it to happen.

“Uh…Alastor, what are you doing?” You looked at the opened door with your arms crossed, your body still midstep from when he raced ahead to open the door.

“I am being a gentleman, Miss Y/N, that is all.” He looked so innocent, but you had heard more stories and learned so much about him from the shadows. He was no innocent man but a cold-blooded killer. You wouldn’t lie, though, that his past and present only made you that more attracted to the idea of him. You wanted him biblically, and it only made you hate his advances more, as you didn’t want to lose your soul.

“No, thank you, Alastor. I can open my own doors.” You quickly took the door from him, closing it and reopening it before walking through. The look on Alastor's face was akin to pain and frustration. He was not a fan of your independent attitude and was willing to bet he could break you before the year ended.

Alastor resorted to making sure you always walked on the right side of the road, that your chairs were pulled out for you, and that your food was pre-cut; he even went out of his way to acquire a simple ruby necklace for you to wear so others knew you were accounted for. However, you were stubborn and not taking on his advances. All you would give him was that Cheshire grin and stubbornly push his buttons by mimicking his chivalry with your version.

When it came to Alastors courting skills and all his advances, you managed to turn them down in the same stubborn way. However, it didn’t go amiss by Alastor that each turn down went from cold and distant worry to more playful and light-hearted jests on your part. Was it possible you were falling for him, too?

He admitted to himself a while ago, just as you had that the immediate attraction you two felt despite the age and generational gap was mutual. He didn’t know how to break you while you were too worried about becoming his next meal, even though the way he wanted to eat you was not how you were thinking.

That was until one fateful day when the hotel was barren except you two. You had sat perched in the library reading some trashy romance novel, hoping to get yourself off while Alastor was busy with his work. Busy working till his shadow happened to inform him of what you were reading.

The book you had chosen was interesting in that the main female lead was a time traveler who managed to end up in the olden times as a helpless damsel needing a strong man to care for her—the complete opposite of what you were as a person. However, you wouldn’t lie that the thought of letting Alastor take care of you wasn’t electrifying; it just went against everything you stood for.

However, reading the book and getting to the more intense sex scenes where the woman is restrained and taken care of sexually only caused you to feel more of a heated desire for the man who had plagued your thoughts since you made eye contact with him all those months ago. Sighing deeply, you flipped to the next page and moaned softly at the words, wishing it to be you. You wondered how long your and Alastor’s game of cat and mouse would play out until one caved.

Alastor entered the room and looked over your shoulder. He was enamored with you rutting into your leg as you read the heated pages. He smirked as a tentacle wrapped around your throat and pulled your attention up from the book to his eyeline. “My dear, what do we seem to have here?” He practically purred, and you whimpered softly.

You were already so close to release on your heel that you didn’t realize the pleas coming from your lips. You needed an older man badly; you needed Alastor—someone who would worship your body. As the pleas left your lips, it didn’t take long for Alastor to pounce on you, his pent-up desire for the independent brat growing.

Alastor wasted no time and already had your sleep shorts pooled at your ankles, ratty nightshirt hiked up your back and drooping off one shoulder. Your inner thighs were slick and glistening with arousal from your earlier menstruations while reading.

Alastor hummed in amusement, bending you over the couch, his cold tentacles holding you in place as he moved down your back. His soft breaths tickled you as much as they excited you. He hummed as he saw your pussy in full view, a smile growing on his face. He touched it softly, slick coating his hand as he spoke, “My dear, you are already soaking; you were thinking about me, weren’t you? Thinking about me taking you just like that man does in that book.” He smiled wider, lining his face with your slick. “All you had to do was ask, beautiful.”

A tender hand pushes down on your back, further squishing your chest into the soft plush of the couch arm, his other hand grasping firmly at the fat of your backside where Alastor’s face is lapping at your dripping cunt. Soft mewls cry from your lips, hands reaching back to grasp his head, fingers tangling through the soft red and black locks, being mindful of his ears. He only grunts in response as he continues his onslaught on your most sensitive area.

What felt like minutes and hours at the same time passed; your legs were trembling, knees threatening to buckle under you with three orgasms already coaxed out of you on his tongue alone, milking you of your sweet, slick nectar. Your quiet, strained cries did nothing but aid the tightness in Alastor’s dress pants, his cock oozing arousal in his boxers, dampening the fabric beyond. Every involuntary shift of his hips causes more friction and tension with the fabric, sending a groan throughout your pussy.

Alastors noises vibrate against your cunt, shocking your overstimulated and oversensitive clit. All you can do is cry out as he pushes himself deeper, closer. his tongue is merciless and selfish as he threatens to swallow you whole. At this point, you're begging for him to relent, repeated pleas of his name falling from your lips as the familiar heat builds in your core, and you writhe under his hands. The cold slick of his tentacles digs into your skin as he takes hold of your ankles and wrists now to keep you open.

Everything becomes overstimulating as the world begins to spin. Your jaw goes slack, and saliva pools in your mouth as it threatens to spill over your swollen lips. Tears are streaming down your flushed face, your hair is frizzy, and your eyes are practically rolling to the back of your head as yet another release washes over you, sending a shudder through your body.

Alastor finally pulls his face away from the space he has claimed as his between your thighs, not without flattening his tongue over your cunt for a last taste gathering all of you he could. The tentacles held you tighter as he smirked and sat upright, admiring the mess he had made of you. A slick shimmer on his face as he licked his lips, “Delicious, better than any venison I have ever had, dove.”

As he stands up, his hand on your back pushes you back onto the couch arm. He kneaded the flesh of your backside, groaning at the sight in front of him. His hands meet your hips, pulling you back on his clothed erection. A small yelp escapes your lips at the friction against your sensitive area. Your frayed nerves against the soft material that soaks up your arousal and previous releases.

You whine as he rocks his hips slowly, grunting as he watches the material dampen quickly before he pulls away from your hips. His movements are hasty, and he does not waste any more time as he uses more tentacles to help not only hold your wiggling form but also get his clothes off him. He liked this sight of your half-dressed attire as he held purchase over you, dominance you refused till now to give up.

Once he was undressed, he bleated softly at the warmth of your puffy, swollen folds as he rubbed his cockhead up and down your pussy before catching your willing slit. He groans at the tightness that welcomes him; the slick, clamping, spongy walls that pulse around his dick almost milks him of every last drop of cum.

Your voice is hoarse, almost gone by the time his cock is sheathed in you, his cockhead brushing your sweet spot as you feel him abuse your need for him. You can feel every prominent vein of his cock against your spongy walls; they're practically ingrained in you as your pussy is molded to take his dick.

A creamy, white circle forms at the base of his cock as he pushes his length inside, his girthy dick stretching your weeping pussy with loud, lewd squelches. He doesn't give you time to compose yourself. He's selfish tonight, unapologetically so, because you had been toying with him for too long. After almost a year of cat and mouse, this is finally how he takes you. You drove him mad.

It isn't long until your backside is red, his hips pistoning into your sopping cunt, the sight of your slick pussy swallowing his red, angry cock so needily, sucking him in so desperately and clamping around him was addicting, and the feel even more so. His pace isn't lovely; he's mean, relentless, and bruising.

"Fuck sweetheart, so needy for me; you could have just told me how much you wanted this from the get-go. Saved us both precious time," he whined in your ear, his cock drilling into your tight hole as he nipped at your earlobe. Claws out, he uses his hands, kneading the fat of your ass, a sharp slap to your skin causing it to turn even more flushed and red as he fucked himself stupid using your cunt.

He was growing more and more pussy-drunk, drool forming in his mouth and pooling in his permanent smile, leaning over to place his lips onto the expanse of your shoulder. He pressed lewd, wet kisses against your supple skin, adding to the marks and bruises from his teeth as his demonic form began to take precedence.

With how hard he was holding on to you with his hands and tentacles, you were covered in bruises. He was marking you as his not only with chivalry and jewels but pretty marks that will mar your skin for weeks. He tightened his hold around your throat, pulling you up to a sitting position. He pumped into you harder, watching your stomach grow with his length in you. He groaned heatedly as he transformed more; his hand was pulling you up while his other hand began pushing down on the spot on your belly where he was poking through.

As you both whined and felt relief, he growled in your ear, “I will make you all mine, my Doe. Not a single person can have you now.” He pushed harder for a few more pumps before you two were spilling over one another. He filled you to the brim, his seed spilling out before he could even pull out of you. With a satisfied hum, he let his body slowly return to normal as he slid out.

You were fucked out beyond belief. He smiled, gently picking you up and placing your clothes back on you. He held you in his arms and sighed, acting as if he didn’t just release eons of pent-up sexual tension on you. He snapped his fingers, redressing, and walked with you in his arms to his chambers. There, he would repeatedly remind you who you now truly belong to. Soul or not, he was the one to dominate the disobedient brat you were.

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lizzieisright · 19 days ago

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party

Summary: After being a nervous mess, Abby finally finds the courage to talk to you.

Tags: nervous wreck!Abby, fem!reader, first meeting, college!AU.

Notes: I went through my old drafts and found this thing that I wrote after watching the Bottoms like year and half ago, so this is heavily inspired by it and by the party by Charlie XCX.

-/-/-/-/-/-

Abby is nervous as she sits next to you on the balcony. Her house is loud, people are laughing and drinking and counting as someone drinks the whole bottle.

But her heart is louder, because you are here. You came to her party.

You seem so chill and relaxed, and Abby is a mess. Her hands are sweaty, she barely keeps her thighs from jumping up and down, and Abby prays to all gods that you won't notice. She doesn't know where her courage came from, to just follow you outside, but right now this courage is packing its things and leaving.

"It's loud." You say to start a conversation, and Abby's heart almost jumps out of her ribcage.

"Yeah. Do you like it?"

"What?"

"The party."

Abby is so desperate to know. She did everything to make it perfect: your favourite drinks, your favourite music for dancing, your favourite games - it is here today. Her house is decorated in your favourite colours, and it's borderline creepy how she is obsessed with you and how much she knows about the girl she talked a few times to, but Abby is shy. She can't just talk to you and ask you on a date, she has to throw party after party hoping you'd come through.

And today you came, and she almost threw up from nerves when she saw you coming in.

"Yes. If I knew you threw cool parties, I would have come the other times."

You called her party cool, oh god. Oh god, Abby is going to die.

Abby doesn't know what to say, too afraid of saying something wrong, and her mind is reeling because she can't just sit in silence! It's her chance to talk to you and make you like her, and Abby is silent, what the fuck!

“Does it mean you'll come next time?” Abby asks, not hearing herself from how loud her heart is. You smile at her, and Abby clutches the bench so hard she hears it creak. You look like an angel, she can't handle it - it's overwhelming to interact with you.

“Probably.” You chuckle playfully and Abby goes into error 404 brains not found. “Sometimes I need to study.”

Abby swallows, hard. Say something! Say something, goddamnit!

“Do you want a drink?” Abby blurts, not coming with anything more smart than this. She seriously needs a breather before she goes into cardiac arrest from being so close to you.

“Got it right here.” You show her your plastic cup. “But I won't mind a refill.”

Oh thank God, Abby thinks and nods, reaching for your cup. Your fingers touch hers and Abby shivers, her breath is caught in her throat. She is electrocuted by you, the cold of your skin lingers on hers and she can't help her blush.

“What do you drink?” Abby doesn't need you to tell her, actually, she already knows, but she is self-aware enough to know it would be creepy to just go and get what you want.

You give her the name of your drink and Abby nods before going back to the house.

The moment she is out of your sight, she takes a deep, shuddering breath: how is it even possible to feel so much for someone she doesn't really know? How do you strike so much in her just by existing? Abby never cared about what others think of her, but she is desperate to be enough for you.

Abby suddenly thinks that you might use Abby's leave as an excuse to also leave, since she was probably weird as fuck and made you uncomfortable, and it scares her so much her hands are trembling as she pours your drink.

“Someone's got their shit together.” Nora chuckles when she pours her own drink at the table. “You are going to her?”

“Yeah.” Abby swallows. “I can't fucking think around her, Nora. What do I even say to her?”

“Ask how her day is going, what she watched recently. Easy stuff.” Nora helps. She makes fun of Abby for being such a wreck when it comes to you, but she is a good friend who can read the room. “You've got this, Anderson.”

Abby whines helplessly, but she needs to see you and hear your voice, and no amount of fear will stop her now. So Abby takes the cups and goes back to the balcony, praying to every deity you're still there.

You smile when you see her and Abby smiles back, unable to look into your eyes, her chest fluttering.

“Thanks.” You take your cup from her hand and Abby shudders again when your fingers meet.

It's not a warm night, and Abby only now picks up on the fact that you're cold. Abby panics, looks around to find any kind of blanket, but there's nothing.

“Sorry, just a sec.” Abby tells you and disappears again.

You're puzzled, but you wait for her anyway: you have nowhere to be and you're curious about Abby. She's always seemed intimidating - one of the reasons why you didn't dare to show up to her parties - but right now she is so sweet to you, shy even, and you wildly assume she is one of those sweet kind people who have resting bitch face.

Abby is cringing at herself as she takes her softest jacket from her bedroom - it's corny and obvious, you'll crack her in a second after it, but Abby can't help herself. She wants to have some part of you to herself, even if it's your perfume. Abby quickly tries to get rid of this thought, but she hopes you won't give it back to her so she'd have an excuse to talk to you.

“Here.” Abby says awkwardly and shows you her jacket. “You seem cold.”

“A little bit, yeah.” You smile softly and Abby screams inside.

There is no difference between being brave and being stupid - otherwise there's no explanation why Abby put her jacket around your shoulders herself and why she didn't fall apart right away when you are so close.

You lift your cup and Abby catches up and clinks her cup against yours.

“Cheers.” You smile at her and only now, in the morning lights, you notice her blush. “Thank you for giving me your jacket.”

“No problem.” Abby says, but internally she is beating herself up for being such a grump. “So, uh, Have you watched anything good lately?”

Abby knows she sounds lame, and you don't even know that she uses the line that Nora told her, but she is out of ideas. And then your eyes light up like you definitely want to tell her about it, so Abby counts it as a win.

"Have you seen Severance?"

Seriously, Abby is going to light a candle in a church because the fact that she watched Severance and the conversation stops being so awkward is a real case of divine intervention.

You're sweet, and your smile literally makes Abby's world brighter (even though you two disagree on a few points), and if she could she would stay here with you, forever.

You tell Abby your opinion about Milchick's arc, and only thing Abby is noticing is that you're sitting closer to her, close enough for Abby to feel your body heat and holy shit her face is burning. Now she can smell your perfume and then you laugh at something Abby said and it's a full body laugh, meaning you lightly slap her knee and oh God. Oh God.

"Sorry, did I hurt you?" You ask, worried, when Abby bluescreens so hard she stops moving. Fuck, she stops breathing.

"Uh, no- no, I'm fine." Abby smiles, but your hand is still here, and you're- "You're so pretty."

What the FUCK!!! Why did Abby tell you that? Where was the brain-to-mouth filter? whathefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck!!!!

Before Abby tries to kill herself by wishing for it really hard, you giggle and your eyes are sparkling. Oh. Oh, maybe Abby doesn't have to die.

"Thank you. You know, I'd never think you'd be shy."

"Well, here I am." Abby says weakly, still riding the adrenaline high of not weirding you out.

"It's cute." Abby blushes to the roots of her hair and you giggle again. Abby can listen to this sound forever.

You look over the balcony where the sun is up and morning people are already jogging and being all put together, and Abby has a sinking feeling you're going to leave.

"It's getting late. Or, well. it's getting early." You chuckle at your own joke and it's adorable. "I should get going."

"Oh, yeah, Of course."

Abby visibly deflates when you return the jacket, but then you take your phone out and ask the best question ever.

"Can I get your insta?"

Abby barely contains her excitement as she taps her handle with shaking fingers. You smile, say your goodbye and leave.

Abby waits for a minute just to make sure you won't hear her. She falls on her bed. She screams into her pillow, rolls on her bed and then screams some more.

"Got your girl?" Nora laughs when she comes to check on her.

Abby blushes and throws the pillow at Nora's face.

But yeah. She got her girl.

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson #abby tlou

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lbcreations-blog · 1 year ago

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Yandere Alastor with daughter reader

A Stag and his Fawn

‐-----‐----‐-----------------------------------

(Not proof read cause I'm tired but I need to post)

Masterlist

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Alastor was your adoptive father. He adopted you when you were both still alive. You were only a baby at the time, being left in a dumpster.

When Alastor was dumping bodys in the dumpster he found you, he was originally going to put you in a foster home, but when he saw you open your eyes and look at him seeming at peice, he knew it was a bad idea to put you in any foster home.

Of course, he could not just take you in. He had to get you some medical treatment. So he took you to the nearest hospital to get a check-up and other things. Then he had to do even more other things like birth certificate and adoption stuff. (You know, the essentials)

Anyways, once you were old enough, he taught you his ways of voodoo and murder. (You were already learning from about 4, lmao), and you became a perfect daughter to him (even though you were already perfect to him).

If you were to get bullied in school, those kids would regret it. He would also teach those kids' parents a lesson as well.

If you end up dying before him from it being someone's fault, he would torture that person/persons and eat that person's corpse.

Once he enters hell, he would search for you while aswell becoming a terrifying overlord. And once he finds you, he would pretend you are not his daughter in public so you would not get targeted. He knows you can look after yourself so he would let you in public by yourself, but a shadow will follow you.

But if you are an overlord, he wouldn't admit being your father, but he will treat you like his daughter in public, and he will let others' theories flow. (Overlord or not, a shadow will follow you, btw)

Now, if he dies first, he will patiently wait for you. You, of course, kill the one who mistakes your father for a deer. You then live life how he wanted you to, until you finally arrive in hell.

Once you arrive in hell, he ether will take a while to find you or find you quickly. If you quickly become an overlord just like him, he would be proud, like you have no idea.

(The ways he is with you in hell is the same as I explained in the first death choice.)

Of course, introducing you to people as Alastors' daughter, you will get interesting reactions.

The overlords would be shocked, to say the least, Carmila might like Alastor slightly more cause she has her own daughters.

Now the hotel's reactions ig

Of course, the entire hotel is shocked except for niffty and husk cause yall already probably met (I would tell you that, but that's a different kind of worm)

Anyway, sir pentious would be most likely terrified of you or just won't admit it.

Angel- well, Angel-... he's probably going to start off with sex jokes, and how unfair it is that some random bitch got to fuck Alastor. Your father was not happy.

Vaggie is very suspicious of you once you met. She knew how your father was, so you were not trustworthy. (Which was fair, you showed that same creepy smile your father did)

Charlie loved meeting you. She was and is so happy that Alastor has a daughter and she is and was happy to meet you. She was hoping to help you get redeemed, but you just told her you would rather be in hell with your father.

--------_______--------

I was going to make Alastor more yandere but because of 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑜𝑛𝑠, he's like that, ok? OK

I did get lazy at the end, so... Yyyeeeaaaa

Hope you enjoyed it

- 𝐋.𝐁 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

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greeniegirl23 · 2 months ago

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"Take Care.." (Sick! Alastor x Reader)

A.K.A Alastor trying to fight being ill.

Also inspired by @degenerativeficdisease latest post. Go check out

https://www.tumblr.com/degenerativeficsdisease/782930143572377600/to-break-a-fever

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

"Alastor for the love of fuck, go sit down!!" You yelled at him for almost the hundredth time.

"Never!!" He protested, voice ladened with stuffy sinuses and thick static while he attempted to sit upright at his mahogany desk.

Alastor was stubborn, this much you knew. On a daily basis, it was hard to change his mind about little things. Especially if he didn't agree with them for whatever reason, but you didn't know how truly headstrong he could be until today. When he woke up with a fever of 104.3, (and the only reason you knew that is because you damn there shoved the thermometer down his throat..) refusing to rest but instead, trudge through the illness like an idiot. Which is why you were yelling at him as he attempted to get dressed for the day at the pace of a drunken snail.

You've been trying to get him into bed for the past two hours, but every time he refuted you with some bullshit response. "I don't need rest darling, I survived through the Yellow Fever pandemic--!" He coughed violently. You could literally hear the gross phlegm in his lungs as he hacked like an old smoker before sniffling. "..I'll be fine."

Honestly, he didn't even know how much he believed that at the moment. In Hell, everything was worse, including illness and getting sick. He wouldn't dare tell you, but he knew that you knew that he felt like shit. Every movement was agonizing as he put on his typical attire. Muscles aching with every move, his eyes could barely stay open, he felt delirious really and had resorted to breathing through his mouth because his nostrils were clogged with mucus.

"Yes you will be," You sighed, pressing your fingers tips to your temple in frustration. "But not if you keep going at this rate. Seriously, you look terrible."

He's expression was irritated as he looked at you with puffy eyes and an exhausted face. "I haven't the slightest idea what you mean..."

"Don't be difficult Al."

"But it suits me so well!" He tried to sound upbeat and smarmy as usual until a loud microphone feed back made you jump, heavy static spiking in volume in a row of four.

"Fucking hell! What was that?!"

Alastor rolled his eyes. "Have you never heard a man sneeze before?"

"That was a sneeze?" You replied. "It sounded like mating call of something ungodly.."

His loopy eyes squinted at you. "Never say that again.."

"Only if you get into bed and rest. You cannot go around like this. Especially sneezing like that, you might mesh frequencies and blow up a radio or something."

"I'm afraid my powers don't work like that darling."

"Whatever!" You yelled, grabbing him by his arm and dragging him back towards his plush king sized bed. "I don't care if you still want to work, it can wait."

"But--"

You immediately cut him off by firmly pushing him on to the mattress. Later on when he was better, he vowed he'd get revenge on you for having the audacity to touch him, let alone push him, but at the moment he could care less. Sinking into the mattresses plushness, allowing it to cradle his aching bones from this accursed fever.

He let out a groan of pain? Relief? He had no idea as he allowed the mattress to embrace him.

While he sat there melting in the best and worst way possible, you went over to his dresser and pulled out some of his pajamas, throwing them next to him you told his shadows to help him change while you were going to go downstairs and get some essentials.

As soon as you made it to the lobby. You made sure to inform Charlie that Alastor wasn't doing well today and that whatever work he had to do would be late.

Of course she agreed and told you to take as much time as he needed. After that you went into the kitchen and got started on some soup. You know he was a stinker for flavors and food made from scratch, so you did it the long way and managed to make some very tasty venison, rice, and vegetable soup. With just a bit of Southern kick, it would help with his congestion.

A quick look into the pantry and you got some other things too. A pitcher of ice water, some cold meds, a few of his favorite snacks like coffee pecans and minty-lemon candies he'd gotten from one of Rosie's tea parties last week.

Together with the help of his shadows, you brought the things back to his room only to find him sprawled on the bed like a starfish.

He had moved all his blankets to the foot of the bed, despising them because of the chills that wracked his body. The sheets and his pajamas were already a sweaty mess as he breathed heavily with his night shirt unbuttoned. If it wasn't for the fact that he was such a pain, you might have thought of this moment as cute or even hot.

But no, now wasn't the time for that.

Immediately you moved him aside to set up his pillows behind him, propping him up so you could feed him something before the meds. Foggy with fever, you heard him mumble "No maman.." the exhaustion evident in his voice. "Can't stay home..Gotta be at the station before one."

"Oh Alastor.." You hummed. Pressing a hand on his cheek, hoping that he'd snap into reality. It always made you sad to realize that deep down he was just a boy that made mistakes and missed his mother. The only person who could ever get through to him, who he ever truly loved, and would never see again.

Part of you wondered just how long had Alastor been a showman. Not just as a career or even a hobby, but as a way of life. He was a showman to the hotel, to Charlie, to his friends, hell, even to you sometimes. But you couldn't help but think if he was always a performer, even as a child. Did he put on air for his Mother? Was she the only one who ever knew who he really was?

These questions plagued your mind as you placed a cold rag on his head. He moaned at the relief, had you been in a cartoon, you were pretty sure you'd see steam coming off of his person as he drifted in and out of consciousness.

"Alastor? Alastor wake up." you called for him, shaking his shoulder. As much as you hated to wake, he needed to eat. Almost irritatedly, he blinked his eyes open. "..Darling.?"

"Yeah it's just me." You smiled, genuinely. "Come on and sit up, I made some food for you."

Taking a deep breath as if to prepare himself. Alastor used what little strength he had to prop himself up against the pillows more comfortably. Holding the bowl of soup in your hand, you scooped up a bit with the spoon to feed him. But much to your surprise--really, why are you surprised at him by this point-- Alastor instead took the bowl out of your hands and proceeded to drink from it as if it were a cup. He didn't stop to chew the chunks of meat or veggies, he didn't stop to blow it because it was still hot. Nothing. He quite literally just took it and swallowed it all. Leaving nothing behind except for a few grains of rice in the porcelain.

You blinked once. Twice. Then thrice.

"Alastor why did you?-"

He held up his hand somewhat limply, sniffling. "It's bad enough I have this damn fever and unforsaken chills, but I die twice before I allow you to feed me as if I were a helpless child. Besides, I am rather tired."

Something about what he said sent a stab in your heart. While you kinda understand him wanting to go back to sleep, the thought of him still putting a distance between you and his vulnerability still stung.

Instead of making a big deal out of it. You just placed the bowl back onto the serving tray and poured him a glass of cold water and giving him the meds. "Here, drink this and take these. It should help you feel better soon.."

Same as the soup, Alastor seemed to take the water happily, swallowing both it and the meds in one go. Before scooting back down into bed, still panting but not as much as before. Finally closing his eyes to go back to sleep.

"I'll take this stuff downstairs and leave you be for now." You stated, loud enough for him to hear and give you an ear twitch in response.

His expression was soft as he drifted off, seemingly cozy as he possibly could be in this state. With one arm draped over his stomach while the other laid in the open space of the bed.

Wondering if he knew that he had somewhat hurt your feelings, you had only taken about five steps away from him before a group of shadows had taken away the used dishes, while Alastor's doppelganger snatched you up and placed you right beside him on the bed.

You swore you heard a sleepy chuckle when you shrieked from getting plucked off the floor like a chicken feather, but when you were dropped by his side, you were surprised on how naturally he clung to you.

One leg draped over your body, his arms around your waist, while his head rested snugly on your bosom. There was nothing sexual about this, even calling this intimacy was a stretch, but you couldn't help but allow your heart to beat just a little faster. Swelling with love and adoration for him, something you always had that you thought he never noticed.

"Um Al?"

"Mmn..." Is the sound be made as he nuzzled into you more. Completely at home where he laid.

"I have to--"

"Stay." He mumbled. "You stay.."

You huffed. This asshole knew you couldn't say no to him, not while he was like this or even ever. So like a lady with a pet cat, you accepted your fate and stayed where you were. Allowing Alastor to finally fall completely asleep, with you following behind not too long after. Sleeping soundly in his bed, limbs tangled and hair messy, but it was okay.

Because you both felt right at home.

#alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #alastor x you #alastor x oc #drabbles #alastor the radio demon #fanfic

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puffins-muffins · 9 months ago

Text

Control - The Reunion

Pairing: Jax Teller (AU-ish) x FemaleLawyer!Reader

Word Count: 7,008

Summary: Years after leaving Charming, you’re drawn back into SAMCRO’s world as Opie calls on you for help. When you come face-to-face with Jax for the first time in a decade, the undeniable tension between you resurfaces, stirring old emotions you thought you’d let go of.

Warnings: 18+ only please, cursing, Jax being a cocky shit.

A/N: Y’ALL!! The support this little fic of mine has received over the past week has made my Charlie obsessed heart SO HAPPY! I appreciate each and every one of you. So here’s part 2. Also! Not a lawyer and am relying on Google for lawyery things. This is my first Jax/SOA AU-ish fic. This one’s going to be a slow burn, I hope you stick around. Feedback - likes, comments, & reblogs are greatly appreciated. Beta'd by just myself, all mistakes are my own. Please enjoy! 💜

Part 1 - The Beginning

It had been nearly a decade since you left Charming, distancing yourself from the chaos that once consumed your life. A career opportunity had pulled you back to California just over a year ago, far enough from the ghosts of your past but close enough to feel the danger of reopening old wounds. In that time, you’d built a reputation as one of the top defense attorneys at your firm, becoming known for your relentless drive and sharp instincts. The sacrifices—the people, the memories, the pain you walked away from had seemed worth it as you carefully crafted this new life.

That afternoon, you were engrossed in case files, mentally preparing yourself for the courtroom. Your phone buzzed on your desk, and you glanced at the screen, noting the unfamiliar number with a familiar area code. Charming.

You froze, heart skipping a beat. Without thinking, you answered, “Hello?”

There was a pause, a beat too long before you heard a voice that stirred old memories. “Hey… it’s Opie.”

His voice was unmistakable, carrying the weight of years and the unspoken bond you once shared with him and SAMCRO. You sat up straighter, your pulse quickening. You hadn’t heard from Opie in what felt like a lifetime, and yet, hearing him now, everything came rushing back—the long nights, the brotherhood, the laughter, and the pain.

“Opie,” you said, your voice softer, filled with uncertainty. “It’s been a while.”

“Yeah, it has,” he replied, his tone thick with emotion. There was no small talk, no easing into it. “Look, uhh—I didn’t wanna bring this to you, but I didn’t know who else to call. It’s about Jax.”

You felt your chest tighten. Jax.

“He got arrested,” Opie continued. “Murder charges.”

The words landed like a punch, knocking the wind out of you. “Murder?” you echoed, barely believing it.

“It’s bullshit,” Opie rushed to explain. “The cops have had it out for him for years. You know how it is in Charming. They’ve been waiting for an opportunity like this, and now they’ve got it. But… we think it’s serious.”

You leaned back in your chair, closing your eyes for a moment to gather yourself. Jax. It had been years since you thought about him, really thought about him. But now, hearing that he was tangled in something like this, old emotions began to stir. You’d worked hard to bury those feelings, to keep your life separate from what you left behind.

“Opie,” you began, trying to keep your voice steady, “why me? I’m not part of your world anymore.”

There was a silence on the other end, then he spoke, quieter now, more earnest. “Because we trust you. Jax… he needs someone who will fight for him. You’re the best. I’ve known you were back in California for a while now, just didn’t say anything—cause I respected why you left. But the things you’ve done in court, we need someone like that. He needs someone like that. And to be honest, I—we, only trust you.”

You felt a pang in your chest, hearing the desperation in his voice, the weight of the trust they were placing in you. For a moment, you thought about hanging up, walking away would be the smart thing, but deep down, you knew you couldn’t ignore the pull of Jax Teller.

“I’ll look into it,” you said quietly, the words coming out before you could stop them. “But I’m not making any promises, Ope. This isn’t—”

“I get it,” Opie interrupted, his relief evident. “I get it. Just… thank you. I’ll send you the details.”

Hanging up, your mind raced. Jax was trouble, and he’d always been trouble. No one else in the world brought out your impulsive side the way he did. It was part of why you left, to escape the version of yourself that couldn’t say no to him. You’d always been careful, meticulous, and in control—except when he was involved.

Opie’s text pulled you from your thoughts. As you read over the sparse details he’d sent, that familiar instinct to defend kicked in. You ran a hand over your face, feeling the weight of the decision settle heavily on your shoulders. You had been strong enough to stay away before, but could you live with yourself if you didn’t at least try to help him now?

Finally, you let out a slow breath, the internal battle subsiding as resolve took over. You grabbed your phone again, the decision made.

“Liz,” you said, as your assistant answered. “I need you to get me everything you can on the Sons of Anarchy MC—contacts, history, whatever you can dig up. And find out where they’re holding Jackson Teller.”

The words were out, and there was no going back.

As you hung up, a familiar feeling settled in your chest. It was the same reckless rush you’d felt so many times before, the pull of something you knew you shouldn’t do but couldn’t resist. And no one, not even you, could ignore it when it came to Jax.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You walked into the San Joaquin precinct like you owned the place—every step deliberate, every movement dripping with confidence. Eyes followed you, whispers rippling in your wake, but you didn’t bother acknowledging the attention. You didn’t need to; your presence said enough.

Sheriff Trammel glanced up from his desk, his eyes narrowing as he processed the sight of you. First came curiosity, then something resembling shock. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he muttered, leaning back in his chair. “Didn’t expect to see you around these parts. What brings you back? Visiting an old friend?”

There it was—the assumption, the lazy attempt to place you in a box marked the past. You almost smiled. Almost.

“I’m here to see my client,” you replied coolly, eyes sharp as they met his.

Trammel’s brow furrowed for a moment before he connected the dots. “Your client?” He blinked, caught off guard. And then it hit him, the change in his expression obvious. “Jackson Teller?”

“That’s right,” you confirmed, tone even but with a bite just underneath. “I’m his attorney.”

His smirk dropped, irritation replacing it as he straightened up, arms crossing over his chest. “Well, ain’t that a surprise,” he drawled, clearly trying to reassert control. “You do know what he’s been mixed up in, right?”

You didn’t miss a beat. “I know exactly what he’s involved in. What I don’t know is why he’s been stuck in an interrogation room for hours without at least a phone call.” Your voice was razor-sharp, no patience for his games. “If you need a refresher on how this works, Sheriff, I’ll be happy to provide one.”

Trammel’s jaw ticked, his attempt at authority slipping. “You don’t know how we do things around here,” he warned, voice dropping as if that was supposed to scare you.

“And you clearly don’t know who you’re dealing with,” you shot back, leaning in just enough. “You’ve got no grounds to hold him without due process. Now, unless you’re begging for a formal complaint and the inevitable walkout, I suggest you let me see my client. Now.”

A heavy silence followed, the tension between you palpable. Trammel stared at you, clearly weighing his options, but he wasn’t stupid. He knew you weren’t bluffing. With a tight-lipped sigh, he finally nodded to the nearest officer.

“Take her to Teller.”

As you followed the officer down the hall, the adrenaline that had been pushing you forward settled into a more focused determination. You had anticipated pushback, but this? They were dragging their feet, hoping to keep Jax trapped in a system designed to work against him. It only fueled your resolve.

When the door to the interrogation room finally opened, Jax was slouched at the table, looking more worn than you’d ever seen him—his face harder, the weight of his life etched into every line. But despite the exhaustion, that familiar glint of defiance still burned in his eyes. His gaze flicked up to meet yours, and for a second, time seemed to stop. His eyes widened, disbelief flashing across his face as if he wasn’t quite sure you were real.

“Jesus,” he muttered, sitting up straighter, his voice rougher than you remembered. “You?”

You stepped into the room, the door clicking shut behind you, your eyes stayed locked on his. You saw the momentary relief there, quickly buried beneath a mix of surprise and confusion.

“Yeah, me,” you said, keeping your tone steady, even though being in the same room with him again after all these years aroused something deep inside you.

As Jax took you in, his gaze locked onto yours with a slow, deliberate intensity. He leaned back in his chair, his movements unhurried, as if savoring the moment. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, just enough to send a rush of heat through you. It was the same look that used to drive you wild, but there was something more now—an edge, an awareness in his eyes that hadn’t been there before.

His blue eyes raked over you, slow and searching, like he was taking in every change, every part of you that had evolved since you last stood this close. But underneath the layers of disbelief, there was something familiar—a hunger, a pull that had never truly disappeared. His gaze lingered, appreciating the woman you’d become, and for a moment, it felt like the air between you crackled with electricity.

"Never thought I’d see the day," he murmured, his voice low, rough, sending a shiver down your spine. His eyes stayed locked on yours, the smirk deepening as he leaned forward just a fraction. "So, you’re back… for me."

His words oozed his signature swagger—seductive, teasing, but laced with an undercurrent of something darker. The way he looked at you now, like he could strip away every layer you'd built up over the years, made your pulse skip. There was a heat between you, undeniable, the tension from the past flickering back to life in an instant. Despite everything, despite the time and distance, Jax still had that maddening ability to make your heart race, stirring up emotions you’d long since tried to bury.

You narrowed your eyes, refusing to let his attitude slide. “I’m here because Opie called,” you snapped, your voice sharper than you intended, trying to ignore the flutter of your chest. “This is business, Jax. So, the quicker you drop your cocky bullshit, the quicker I can figure out how to get you out of here.”

That damn smirk deepened, his head tilting in that familiar way, a glint of mischief flickering in his eyes as if no time had passed. “Cocky, huh? You sure you’re not just remembering how much you used to—”

“Don’t be disrespectful,” you cut him off coldly, your voice like ice, laced with a warning. There was a flash in his eyes, the playful arrogance dimming slightly.

His eyes scanned your face like he was searching for cracks in your professional façade, trying to find the girl he once knew beneath the hardened version of yourself standing before him.

You sighed, fighting the urge to roll your eyes. “You’re not special, Jax. You need a defense, and Opie called in a favor. That’s it.”

Jax tilted his head, eyes glinting with mischief. “Sure, that’s all it is. No way you missed me, right?” His lips curled into that signature smirk, the one that used to unravel you in ways you’d never admit.

Your jaw tightened, refusing to give him an inch. “I didn’t miss the chaos or the danger. But I’m also not about to let your recklessness pull you under.”

The smirk stayed, but his gaze darkened, his voice lowering a notch. “Recklessness, huh? Funny, I remember a time when you didn’t mind that part of me. Actually, you really kinda liked it.”

He leaned in just enough to make your pulse quicken, eyes narrowing as they raked over you, searching for any crack in your armor. “Or maybe,” he said, voice low and taunting, “you’re just too scared to admit you’ve still got a soft spot for Charming…and for me.”

Pausing, his gaze lingering on your lips for a breath too long. “Maybe you’re afraid you’re not over me.”

You slammed your notebook shut, the sound slicing through the thick tension. “I know what you’re trying to do.” You paused, struggling to suppress the old feelings he provoked within you, heat flushing your cheeks. The way his gaze lingered on your lips sent a shiver through you. He was pushing you, just like he did all those years ago.

“This isn’t about feelings, Jax! It’s about saving your ass. If you’re too proud or too stupid to let me help, I can walk out that door right now and you can rot here. I promise you that I have better things to do with my time.”

The room went silent. Jax studied you, the playful glint in his eyes finally fading, replaced by something closer to frustration, maybe even hurt. His cocky grin faltered, though his guard remained firmly in place. “Yeah? You’d walk out?” His voice was lower now, more serious, his disbelief still evident. “After all the shit we went through. Color me surprised.”

You held his gaze, standing your ground. “You walked away from me first, Jax. Don’t forget that.”

For the first time since you walked into the room, he didn’t have a snappy comeback.

The tension hung between you, thick and unresolved, as the weight of the past settled in the silence.

And as you stared at Jax, your mind wandered, taking in every detail of the man in front of you. He looked different now—older, more mature, but no less magnetic. In fact, the changes had only made him more striking in a raw, rugged way. The boyish charm that used to come so effortlessly was still there, buried beneath the exhaustion in his eyes. His blonde hair, slightly shorter now and slicked back, showed streaks of silver. The faint peppering of gray in his beard only added to the hardened edge that framed his jaw. He was still strong, still the same powerful presence, but there was a heaviness to him now, like the weight of his choices had settled deep into his bones.

Despite the roughness, despite everything the years had taken from him, Jax Teller was still undeniably attractive. The kind of man who could make your heart race with just a glance—the dangerous pull he’d always had, only now more potent. The way his blue eyes seemed to pierce through you, the way he carried himself, the confidence that bordered on arrogance, it was all there, all of it pulling at you in ways you didn’t want.

But this wasn’t the Jax from those carefree days at the park or late nights at TM. The version of him who used to tease you relentlessly, making your pulse quicken, had been worn down by the life he chose. The violence, the betrayals, the loss… it was all written on his face. For a moment, your resolve wavered. The dangerous temptation to fall back into old patterns, to get too close again, tugged at you.

And then Jax broke the silence. “Yeah, but you actually left.”

That stopped you in your tracks. The accusation in his voice, the weight of it, hit hard, settling in the pit of your stomach. This version of Jax was ruthless. The room was heavy with silence, both of you staring at each other, years of unspoken hurt rising to the surface.

But you weren’t about to let him flip this on you.

“I left,” you repeated, the words sharp, “because there was nothing left for me. You made your choice, Jax. The club, the women… you chose that life over us. You knew it, and so did I.” Your voice hardened, fueled by years of buried frustration. “Don’t try to put this on me like I’m the one who abandoned you.”

He didn’t respond, but his eyes remained locked on yours. You could see the struggle in him, the way his jaw tightened, the way he fought back against what you were saying.

“So yeah,” you continued, your voice steady, “I left. I chose a life where I wouldn’t have to wonder if the next phone call I got would be someone telling me you were dead. You know, like my father.”

The words landed hard, slicing through the air. You saw the flash of pain in Jax's eyes as he stiffened at the mention of your dad. And for a moment, neither of you said a word, but the truth had to be spoken—it was the reason you left, the reason you couldn’t stay in that life.

“I built something for myself. And now I’m here, trying to help you, despite all of that. So maybe it’s time you stopped acting like a shit and let me do what I came here to do.”

His eyes stayed on yours, but now they weren’t filled with that teasing cockiness anymore. There was something deeper, something he wasn’t quite ready to admit.

Finally, Jax let out a slow breath, his shoulders relaxing just a fraction. He leaned back against the wall, breaking eye contact for the first time, the weight of your words settling over him.

“I guess I just never thought you’d actually go,” he muttered, voice quieter now, the defensiveness finally giving way to something more vulnerable.

For the briefest moment, you almost let the softness in his tone get to you, almost let it bring up the memories of the man you’d once loved so fiercely. But you couldn’t afford to go there. Not now.

You straightened your spine, shifting back into lawyer mode. “Well, I did. And now I’m back, for this. So, do you want my help or not?”

Jax glanced up at you, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then, with a resigned nod, he finally dropped the bravado completely.

"Yeah, Pep” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I need your help.”

And just like that, the wall between you shifted. The weight of his words, and that damn nickname—it hit you in a way you hadn’t anticipated, like a suckerpunch to the gut, and a rush to your chest, stirring up memories you’d buried deep.

For a split second, the weight of everything between you seemed to vanish, replaced by a memory of a simpler time. You swallowed hard, fighting to stay steady, and nodded once, flipping your notebook open again, determined to stay in control.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You could feel the weight of the eyes on both of you, the tension thick between the rows of onlookers. It wasn’t just another day in court; this was the opening move in a game of chess that would decide whether Jax would spend the next decades of his life behind bars.

He stood tall, his posture relaxed, but you could see the strain in his face, the way his jaw clenched tightly as the judge read over the charges. Murder. Conspiracy. And the bail—the Judge already threatening to keep him behind bars. It was a deliberate message, one meant to keep him locked up and out of the way. One you knew too well.

You glanced at Jax from the corner of your eye, noting how composed he seemed despite the gravity of the situation. But then again, that was him—always steady, even when the world was falling apart around him. Still, you caught the tension in the way his hands gripped the edge of the table, knuckles white.

The DA wasted no time, framing Jax as the leader of a violent motorcycle gang, a man entrenched in crime, a threat to society, and someone with every reason to flee. It was the narrative they always spun, but it still landed heavily in the room.

The judge leaned forward, his gaze heavy with scrutiny. "Given the serious nature of the charges against you Mr. Teller," he began, his voice measured, "I am inclined not to grant bail."

A subtle ripple of murmurs moved through the room, but you didn’t flinch. You lived for this part—standing in the line of fire, fighting for your client. This was what you were born to do.

Clearing your throat, you stepped forward, your voice steady and sure. “Your Honor, I understand the gravity of the charges, but Mr. Teller is not a flight risk. He has deep ties to this community—his family, his responsibilities, and his roots are firmly planted in Charming. He operates a successful business that helps rehabilitate recently released inmates, providing them with support and job opportunities.

“I’d also like to submit a character statement from former Chief Wayne Unser of the Charming PD, which corroborates Mr. Teller’s commitment to his community and the positive contributions he has made over the years. He has shown unwavering dedication, and there’s no reason to believe he would abandon those responsibilities now.”

As you approached the bench to hand the document to the judge, you could feel the tension in the room, but you weren’t finished.

“Furthermore, Your Honor,” you pressed on, “there is a glaring lack of concrete evidence provided by the prosecution at this time. What we have here is more of a narrative than a solid case. My client is being painted as guilty by association, rather than through any real proof. The due process he’s entitled to has already been compromised by rushed charges and incomplete evidence. Denying him bail under these circumstances would be fundamentally unjust.”

You could sense the weight of the room shifting, the prosecution casting quick, uneasy glances at their notes, preparing a rebuttal. But you weren’t going to let them get the last word.

“All we’re asking for, Your Honor, is the opportunity for Mr. Teller to continue living his life while we prepare his defense. He’s not going anywhere, and the absence of substantive evidence speaks volumes.”

The judge sat back, contemplating your argument, and you braced yourself. His eyes flickered to Jax briefly before returning to you.

"Bail is set at $500,000," he finally declared, the gavel heavy in his hand. "And Mr. Teller will surrender his passport."

The decision came down like a hammer, the thud of it reverberating through you. You glanced over at Jax. His expression didn’t waver. No flinch, no sign of surprise, just a small nod, as if to say, ‘We knew this was coming.’ His eyes met yours, steady and calm, while the weight of the judge’s words hung in the air.

You swallowed hard, regaining your focus. There was no time to react, only to plan. Your mind was already turning over the next steps, fast and sure. You’d have to move quickly now.

And just like that, court was adjourned. The room erupted into murmurs as people filtered out. But you stayed put for a moment, watching as Jax was cuffed again, his wrists bound in front of him. He met your eyes briefly, a flicker of something passing between you. Trust? Maybe. Or maybe it was that same pull—the one that made it impossible to stay away, no matter how much you tried.

You exhaled slowly, gathering your things, the weight of what’s next pressing down on you like a storm brewing just on the horizon. There was so much left to prepare for, so much at stake.

As they led Jax away, he gave you a small, almost imperceptible nod. You returned it, knowing that this was just the beginning. You would do what you came here to do—protect him, defend him, win this case. But as you watched him disappear into the hallway, the past, as always, lingered too close for comfort.

As the last of the courtroom's noise faded, you found Jax seated in the small holding area, his posture tense, arms resting on his knees. He glanced up as you approached, a flicker of frustration in his expression as he leaned back against the wall.

“They’re really putting you in a tough spot with that bail,” you said, your voice calm despite the frustration you felt.

“Half a mil,” Jax muttered, shaking his head, a bitter edge to his tone. “They want me to fucking rot in here.”

You shifted, standing a little closer. “Are you able to cover the 10%? Fifty grand?”

Jax gave a slow, skeptical shake of his head, running a hand over his beard. “That’s the problem… I don’t know if we can pull it all together in time. The club’s tapped from all the heat we’ve been under, and most of my assets are tied up in shit I can’t touch right now. I’ve got some, but I don’t know if it’s enough.”

You crossed your arms, thinking through the logistics, trying to calculate how quickly you could move things around. It wasn’t just about the money—it was about timing, resources, and connections. You looked at him, the weight of his doubt hanging in the air. He didn’t like feeling helpless, and you hated seeing him like this.

“I’ll call Opie,” you said after a moment, your voice steady, full of resolve. “We’ll figure something out.”

Jax met your gaze, eyes narrowing slightly as if trying to gauge how serious you were. “And if we can’t?” he asked, the vulnerability in his voice barely masked.

You didn’t blink. “We will,” you promised. “I’m not letting you sit in here any longer than you have to.”

He watched you for a long moment, his skepticism giving way to something that resembled trust, though he still seemed unconvinced. “Alright,” he said finally, though there was still a tension in his voice. “But if it doesn’t happen—”

“It will,” you interrupted, cutting off his doubt. “Let me handle it.”

Jax’s expression softened, though the worry didn’t leave his eyes. “Just hang tight and I’ll have you out of here as soon as possible.” You reassured him.

He sighed, the weight of the situation still pressing down on him. “I hope you’re right.”

You gave him one last look, then turned to leave, as you stepped out of the holding area, the cold air of the hallway wrapped around you, you hit dial on Opie’s number. It only rang once before he picked up, his voice steady but laced with concern.

“Hey, what’s going on?” he asked, and you could almost hear the wheels turning in his mind.

“Opie, I need you to pull together whatever you can for Jax’s bail,” you said, urgency threading through your voice. “The judge set it at $500,000.”

“Shit.” Opie growled. “That’s a lot of cash on very short notice. We might be able to scrape together 30 or 35 at most, but—”

“Do what you can,” you said, trying to sound more encouraging than demanding. “I know it’s a lot, but please, Opie, just focus on getting the cash as quickly as possible. I’ll handle the rest.”

“Are you sure about this?” he asked, concern evident in his voice. He knew all too well what getting involved in Jax’s life again could mean for you.

You inhaled deeply, feeling the weight of his words. “I know what I’m doing.” Your commitment unwavering.

He paused, and you could almost feel him weighing your words, knowing the bond you shared with Jax. “Alright. I’ll rally the guys and see what we can do.”

“Thanks, Ope,” you said, a faint hint of relief hanging off your voice. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

You hung up, your heart racing as you weighed your next steps. It felt insane, but the idea of Jax trapped in that cell was simply unacceptable.

You were ready to dip into your own savings if it meant securing his freedom—a leap of faith rooted in the conviction that he deserved a chance, despite everything that had happened between you.

With a surge of determination, you navigate your way through the courthouse, already brainstorming ways to cover the bail gap. You knew all too well how difficult it was to say no to Jax, to resist the magnetic pull he always had over you. His presence was like a drug, intoxicating and familiar, making it impossible to ignore the depths of your feelings for him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sun was beginning to dip lower in the sky as you stood outside the county jail, leaning against your car, arms crossed. It had taken most of the day, but between Jax’s assets, the club’s contributions, a few favors, and your own money, you had gathered enough to post his bail. You handled everything from the legal side, and now, all that was left was to wait.

When the doors finally swung open, Jax emerged, free of his cuffs, his movements deliberate as he sauntered toward you. That familiar strut—the same one that used to drive you wild was still there, but it was different now. Worn by time.

You glanced up just as he stopped in front of you, hands sliding casually into his pockets. His smirk made a brief return, a shadow of the cocky kid you once knew. But his eyes... they carried something more broken now.

“This isn’t over, Jax,” you said before he had the chance to speak, your tone sharp, all business. “We’ve got a long way to go before trial, and I need you to cooperate. Please don’t make this harder than it already is.”

He leaned in slightly, his voice low, rough around the edges. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

You rolled your eyes, refusing to take the bait. “I’m serious. I need everything from you—details, information, the truth—if we’re going to win this.”

Jax raised an eyebrow, that smirk lingering. “You think I’m holding out on you?”

“I think you’ve spent most of your life holding out on everyone.” you shot back, your voice cool, cutting through whatever charm he thought he was working. “I need full transparency, Jax.”

You were always so good at calling him on his bullshit. One of the very few people who even dared to.

For a moment, his expression shifted—just a flicker of something underneath the surface. The smirk faltered, replaced by something unreadable. He stepped back, crossing his arms as he leaned against the hood of your car, his eyes scanning you like he was trying to size you up all over again. Like he was testing the waters, seeing if the person standing in front of him was still the same woman who knew him better than most, or if time had changed that.

It was like the years between you hadn’t existed, like you were both right back where you started. Only now, the stakes were higher, the weight of everything unsaid and unresolved hovering between you.

The ride was quiet at first. The hum of the engine and the passing landscape were the only sounds filling the space between you and Jax.

You kept your eyes on the road, hands gripping the steering wheel a little tighter than necessary, doing everything you could to ignore the tension that thickened the air inside the car.

Jax sat beside you, his gaze a palpable weight, even though he hadn’t said much since you pulled away from the jail. He’d offered a brief, low thank you, but that was the extent of it.

Your mind raced with everything unspoken, years apart, and buried feelings neither of you dared to confront. The last time you’d been this close, everything had been different. Now, the proximity felt like teetering on the edge of a cliff, waiting for the drop.

Jax shifted, clearing his throat as if to break the silence. “You didn’t have to do this, you know. Bail me out.”

You kept your eyes locked on the road, your grip tightening around the steering wheel. “It’s my job.”

“Is it?” His tone was playful, but there was an underlying challenge in his words. “There’s no way my guys could scrape together 50k that fast. If you’re risking your own money, Pep—that doesn’t sound like just a job.”

He knew you too well, as if he could still read your thoughts. His words hung heavily in the air, the truth simmering just beneath the surface, threatening to spill over.

You didn’t answer right away, focusing on the road ahead, trying to steady the swirl of emotions threatening to pull you under. He wasn’t wrong. But you weren’t about to admit that.

Instead, you took a breath, your voice measured. “I’m doing what needs to be done. That’s all.”

He glanced over at you, a small smirk playing on his lips, like he could see right through the wall you’d put up. “Sure,” he said, the knowing look in his eyes made it clear he wasn’t buying it. “You always were good at getting what you wanted.”

You looked at him, the comment hanging between you like an unfinished sentence, laced with the weight of the past. Jax shifted in his seat, his gaze flickering over to you as the silence stretched. You could feel it—the weight of everything, the tension that always seemed to hang between you. It was almost suffocating.

“You were impressive in there,” Jax said, breaking the silence once again. His voice was low and rough, but genuine. A smirk played on his lips, and it tugged at something inside you.

“You sound surprised,” you teased, a lightness creeping into your tone as you welcomed the distraction from the charged atmosphere in the car.

He chuckled, leaning back against the seat. “Nah, not surprised. Just… damn, you’ve changed.” His gaze roamed over you, like he was trying to reconcile the woman beside him with the girl he once knew.

Jax’s grin widened, clearly reflecting on your words in court. “I especially liked the part about how I rehabilitate former inmates at the garage.” His laughter echoed in the confined space.

You let your smile shine through. “That was pretty good, wasn’t it?” A mischievous smirk playing on your lips, “I mean… being president of the Sons is kind of the same thing, don’t you think?” You didn’t give him a chance to respond before adding, “I’ve just perfected the art of storytelling.”

He raised an eyebrow, a playful challenge in his gaze. “Yeah? You make it sound almost convincing.”

“Well, I’m also really good at getting what I want,” you replied, relishing the lighthearted banter even as a familiar heat simmered beneath the surface.

He studied you, his gaze piercing, making you feel heavy, almost relaxed, underneath it. “But it’s more than that. You were always smart, always tough. Now… it’s like you’ve grown into it. Like you own it.”

There was an intensity in his voice that made your chest flutter, a recognition of everything you’d become in his absence. It wasn’t just admiration; it was respect—something deeper and more meaningful than it had ever been between you.

You swallowed hard, your mouth suddenly dry. “Thanks,” you said, keeping your voice steady, even as his words unraveled emotions you hadn’t confronted in years.

His gaze lingered on you, heavy and unyielding. “Guess I’ve been missing out,” he added, a smirk returning to his lips, though it felt softer this time, as if he was wrestling with his own realizations about you and the past.

You tried to ignore the way your pulse quickened, the way the years and distance didn’t seem to matter when you were this close to him. It was dangerous territory, this pull between you—familiar, yet different. Both of you had changed, but some things were harder to leave behind.

“Don’t get used to it,” you said with a small smile, still trying to keep the mood light. “I’m not always going to be the one bailing you out.”

Jax laughed softly, shaking his head. “Yeah, we’ll see about that.”

The ride back to Charming always felt endless. The road stretched out before you, but all you could focus on was the man sitting beside you, the charged silence thick between you both. The air in the car felt heavy, buzzing with unspoken tension, making your mind wander in directions you didn’t want.

Desperate for a distraction, you reached for the radio, just as Jax did the same. Your hands collided, the sudden touch sending a jolt through you, electric and impossible to ignore. The contact was brief, but it was enough to send sparks skittering up your arm, your breath catching for just a second.

Jax froze too, his hand lingering over yours for just a moment longer than it should’ve, both of you caught in that split second of something undeniable. You didn’t move, and neither did he. The heat of his skin against yours, the brush of his fingers—it was like a shockwave, pulling you back into memories you’d been trying so hard to suppress.

You glanced over at him, finding him already watching you, his eyes dark, intense. The air between you humming with a vibrant, electric tension.

Neither of you said a word, but the silence spoke volumes. You pulled your hand away first, the moment breaking, but the charge still lingered in the air, leaving you both more unsettled than before.

You pulled into the familiar lot at TM, the sight of the place hitting you like a wave. It had been a long time since you’d been back, but the memories came rushing in all at once—the sound of engines revving, the smell of oil and metal, your dad’s laughter, Jax’s smile. The weight of it pressed down on your chest, and you struggled to keep your composure.

Your grip tightened on the steering wheel as you tried to steady yourself. Anxiety twisted in your stomach, your mind flooding with the past.

Jax shifted beside you, breaking you from your thoughts. You turned to him, forcing yourself to focus, to stay present. There wasn’t time for nostalgia, not with everything ahead of you.

“You comin’ in?” he asked, his voice smooth. “The guys would love to see you.”

Your heart lurched at the thought. Walking through those doors, seeing faces you hadn’t seen in years—it was too much, too soon. You weren’t ready for that.

You shook your head, lips pressing into a thin line. “No, not this time,” you replied firmly, glancing toward the clubhouse.

Jax seemed to understand, his eyes softening with a knowing look. He didn’t push.

As he reached for the door, you cleared your throat, keeping your voice even, though your pulse quickened with anxiety. “I��ve got a few cases to wrap up,” you said, glancing over at him. “But once that’s done, I’m all in. I’ll be back in a few weeks, and we’ll get to work. Until then, Liz will handle discovery and start gathering everything for your defense. You can trust her—she’s a better paralegal than I ever was.”

Jax didn’t break his gaze, the weight of it making your thoughts scatter. He gave a slow nod, his voice quiet but firm. “Alright,” he said. “I’ll be ready.”

You nodded in return, your mind racing, trying to stay focused on the work ahead rather than the tension simmering between you. This was just the beginning—a long, messy road loomed, and the past still lingered too close.

“Listen, Jax,” you said, your tone turning serious. “It’s important you stay out of trouble. You need to minimize your time with the club—no unnecessary risks, no run-ins with the cops. We can’t afford any slip-ups.”

He tensed, his jaw tightening. “You’re telling me to stay away from my own club?” There was a sharp edge to his voice, a flash of something that made the air feel heavier.

You shot him a pointed look, not backing down. “I’m telling you to be smart,” you said, matching his intensity. “I’m trying to keep you out of prison. Help me do that. No stunts, no risks. You’ve got too much riding on this.”

He looked like he wanted to argue, the tension in his frame unmistakable, but after a beat, he nodded. “I’ll keep my head down.”

“Good.” You softened just slightly, letting some of the weight ease from your voice. “This is only the beginning, Jax. We’ve got a long way to go.”

For a moment, he hesitated, fingers lingering on the door handle before he spoke again. “I appreciate you doing this, Pep,” he said, his voice holding a depth that caught you off guard.

That god-damned nickname hitting you square in the gut. You swallowed hard, “Just stay out of trouble,” you reminded him, keeping your tone firm despite the way he was making you feel.

Jax gave you a nod, hesitating as though he had something more to say. But instead, he gave you that old, familiar wink and stepped out of the car. As he headed toward the clubhouse, you watched him, a knot forming in your chest that you couldn’t shake.

Alone again, you let out a slow, shaky breath, your thoughts spinning. The weight of everything left unsaid—it hung in the air long after he was gone.

What the hell had you gotten yourself into?

Part 3 - The Attraction

#jax teller x you #jax teller x reader #jax teller fic #jax teller #charlie hunnam characters #charlie hunnam #soa au #soa #soa fic #jax teller fanfiction

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voxslays · 6 months ago

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FAMILY REUNION

Featuring >>> Lucifer x Reader; In which, an attempt to kill baby Charlie goes south. Resulting in a soporific curse placed upon the reader, who struggles to deal with the aftermath of its affects.

Part Five Part Seven

A/N: Last depressing chapter for Luci I promise!!! Trust, also smallllllll timeskip lol.

Things couldn’t have been better for Lucifer Morningstar.

In the past six months, not only had he come out of hiding, rekindled his relationship with his daughter, and shown both heaven and hell why he was called the prince of darkness (and king of hell), he had truly almost forgotten about the sorrows he had faced in the last few years. He was finally free from the depressing slump he had suffered through—until Charlie had moved one of your family portraits to the lobby of the hotel.

Suddenly it all came rushing back to him. The stress, the depression, you—it was all too much at once. Yet, Lucifer couldn’t bring himself to ask Charlie to put the painting back in the darkness. For all the pain it brings, it also brought Luci peace. The sight of your gorgeous smile and pretty eyes—or your outfit and jewelry. It was like he was reliving that day.

In the painting, Charlie was only about three or four. Yet, Lucifer still remembers how she calmly sat still next to you and Lucifer the entire time, it was strange. Charlie was wearing a cute little red sundress, which matched Lucifer’s crimson suit and the burgundy ribbon on your sunhat. You were wearing Ruby red shoes which matched Charlie’s mini Mary-Jane’s. Charlie looked so happy, completely oblivious to all the pain…oh Charlie.

Lucifer knew he needed to come clean and tell her the truth…but it was hard. "How do I tell her?" Lucifer sorrowfully ponders aloud. “Tell who what?” Charlie popped out from behind her dad, scaring him shitless. Luci jumps slightly, his hand flying to his chest as he turns to see his now twenty-three year old daughter. A small smile grows on a his face as he tries to hide his startled expression. "Char-Char…ducky, can you sit down for a minute?" He says, his tone soft but serious. “Sure dad.”

Lucifer motions for her to take a seat on the couch in the parlor before goofily sitting next to her, crossing his arms over his chest. He takes a deep breath before beginning. "I need to talk to you about something important.” Lucifer sighs, “Something I should have told you a long time ago." His expression turns serious, his brow furrowing slightly as he tries to find the right words to say. "Charlie, there's something I've been keeping from you…a truth that you deserve to know.” He pauses.

“It's about your mother."

“What about mom?” Charlie’s expression turns serious. He sighs heavily, running a hand through his golden-blonde hair before continuing. "Charlie, your mother…she didn’t randomly disappear one day…” Charlie sits there silent, a confused and dejected expression on her face. “What?” Luce hesitates for a moment, his heart aching at the thought of hurting his daughter. But he knows it's time for her to know the truth. "She didn't leave us, Charlie. She was cursed."

“Cursed? What do you mean dad?” Charlie’s golden eyes shine with unshed tears. Lucifer’s heart breaks (even more) at the sight of his daughter's tears, but he presses on, needing to get the whole truth out. "A sleeping curse. I tried everything to break it, to save her, but…"

“Where is she now? Is she still asleep-“ Charlie keeps asking question after question, trying to understand the very confusing situation her father hid from her. "She's…at the palace. In her private quarters.” Lucifer wipes his tears. “I couldn't bear to separate from her completely, but also…I was afraid to tell you." His voice cracks with emotion. Charlie pulls him into a tight hug. “It’s okay dad.”

Luci hugs his daughter back tightly, sobbing into her shoulder. "Charlie, you can see her but…she's not awake." He pulls back to look at his daughter's face. “I can?” He nods, wiping away his tears. "Yes. Yes, you can." Lucifer stands up, holding out his hand to his daughter as he creates one of his signature golden portals, and the two of them step into the atrium together.

The familiar scent of apples, flowers—and most importantly, roses—fills the air. There are petite golden butterflies fluttering from place to place, breathing life into the peristyle-like room. In the center, a golden fountain, surrounded by apple trees that grew golden apples reminiscent of the ones that grew in Eden. And all around are rose bushes. Red, pink, white, gold. The colors blend together as they surround the room.

Lucifer slowly walks to the glass casket in the center of the bright atrium, followed by Charlie. The casket is made of beautiful, clear glass, with rose vines wrapped around it. Inside, lies a beautiful figure with h/c hair, sleeping peacefully. Their features are soft, and it looks almost like they’re just napping. Lucifer turns to Charlie. "This is your mother…" You look almost exactly like Charlie remembers you. It’s almost as if within the seven years since your disappearance, no time had passed at all.

Charlie stares at your semi-lifeless body. She memorized your features, how your hair lays, the rosiness of your cheeks, how your chest rises and falls gently with each breath, but your eyes remain closed. “Oh mom…” Charlie gently mutters. Your hand gently rests on top of your stomach, your ring finger still adorned with the golden wedding ring Lucifer gave you all those years ago. She reaches out to touch the glass, her reflection showing in it.

Charlie takes one last look at you before turning back to her father, tears in her golden eyes, her red pupils looking straight into his heart and soul. “We have to find a way to wake her up.” Charlie says, gently wiping away her tears as she looks down at Lucifer. Sighing deeply, Luci runs a hand through his hair sadly, unshed tears glimmering in his aureate eyes. "I've tried everything, Charlie. Every spell, every potion, every deal…nothing worked.” Lucifer takes a deep breath before continuing. “The curse is too powerful.”

“There has to be something.” Lucifer looks at her, sadness clouding his golden eyes. Afterall, he does see you in her. Not by appearance—Charlie takes after him in that department—but by disposition. "Maybe…” Lucifer pauses, taking a shaky breath. “Maybe you'll find something I missed." He places a hand on Charlie’s shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Maybe I will.”

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celtrist · 4 months ago

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GOOD END

While I know it's a little late, I needed something to practice watercolor with quickly, and I didn't want to end the little event on a sad note! Kept it vague with the "fin." since this pic could honestly just be normal Alastor haha

So let's give Alastor a happy ending, hm?

The curse is lifted but Alastor still finds it difficult. To go from being on edge from the watchful eyes of anyone who passes him to no one batting an eye is hard to grasp sometimes. Alastor still jots in his notebook the new habits of those he's around, he still checks the time frequently with his trusty pocketwatch, and he still keeps as far away from Vox as he can. However, Alastor sleeps more soundly now.

Everyone was quite aghast when their minds cleared. Charlie tries to constantly make it up to Alastor with gifts and things to do for him, which does the opposite effect due to that being not too dissimilar to what she did when she was obsessed. Vaggie's distrust of Alastor is more prevalent than any sort of affection for him, but she generally tries to keep herself away from Alastor. Her stomach never sits right around him, seeing the subtle frantic gaze of his eyes and knowing it was in part due to her. Due to the traps, the forced dressings. Just the forcefulness of her obsessed half unnerves her as a whole. While she doesn't exactly like Alastor, she also can't stand what she had done to him. She tries to pretend it didn't happen until Alastor confronts her at some point.

Angel Dust tries to stay casual with Alastor but backs off when Alastor clearly needs it. And he pushes others, really just Charlie, to back off when Alastor is looking overwhelmed. Angel is still a bit awkward around Alastor, having the same issue as Vaggie and feeling unwell about drugging him. But unlike Vaggie, Angel is willing to push past it and try to make a new friendship with Alastor if he'd welcome it (or at least acquaintanceship). Husk is definitely left with mixed feelings. He obviously doesn't like Alastor due to the man's treatment of Husk before and after the curse was broken. But he can't help but feel like shit for what he was doing to Alastor when he was obsessed. He tells himself Alastor probably deserved it because of how crappy he treats him and due to how sick in the head Alastor is overall anyway. But it always comes back to the feeling that Husk can't quite absolve his actions. He was the type to despise spiking drinks and to top on it all the other shit Alastor had to deal with? Husk doesn't like it, but he had to admit he was guilty and even sorry for what he did. He doesn't make that known to Alastor though, lest he has more fuel to taunt Husk with. Even if in reality he probably could do with a confidence boost. Husk and Angel also have a better relationship. The thing that made them heated with each other is now the thing they bond over. They each talk out their frustrations of what they did and keep an eye on each other if they see the other falling back to old habits.

Niffty on the surface seemed relatively unaffected. She giggles at what Alastor went through and expressed jealousy about having "all the bad boys" after him. Niffty does dust off Alastor a lot more now. Especially after someone touches him. She also doesn't climb onto Alastor like she used to. She asks him for permission a lot more for cleaning his room, touching him, and so on. Lucifer keeps away even more than Vaggie. He practically lived in his tower. It wasn't until ALASTOR was the one coming to him that Lucifer began actually coming back out. Of course Charlie visited to try and encourage him out, but Lucifer didn't want to even be in the same hallway as Alastor due to the guilt he felt. Due to this, Alastor ended up just coming into Lucifer's room unannounced to escape the others (most notably the too apologetic Charlie). No one would expect him in Lucifer's room, so that's where he went. And since Lucifer HAPPENED to be in his room, Alastor might as well rant about any annoyances he has or vent things out. Needless to say, they actually have quite the companionship now. While they still have gripes with each other, Alastor and Lucifer will willingly stand next to each other. Alastor still is hesitant to go full jabbing mode and does still reel in their fighting quite a bit. A habit that hasn't quite gone away from the curse. Lucifer, on the other hand, while can get into it in the heat of the moment, is a bit hesitant to be harsh with Alastor. Since the curse was lifted, Lucifer went from one of his least favorite hotel residents to the one he probably spends the most time with.

Rosie of course feels just awful about what she'd done. Any lunches done, they either go out or Alastor makes the lunch. She fusses over him still, which always leaves Alastor stiffer than comforted. When she does notice him feeling under the weather, Alastor is very quick to brush it off as nothing in such a way that it clearly indicates it's something. Rosie tries to keep to Alastor's comfort but also is definitely one of the few that isn't particularly afraid to push his comfort zone. Both Valentino and Velvette were annoyed. Valentino was upset that Alastor had the power to make even the moth obsessed with him, and he didn't even GET the chance to have even a peck on the lips from the dumb deer. While Valentino isn't nearly as interested in Alastor, he's not blind- Well, he can see well enough that Alastor is appealing visually. So he's not nearly as disgusted as Velvette about having been obsessed with him. Velvette was disgusted about having been obsessed with Alastor because he's a "dusty bitch" as it were. He's old news, obsolete, and she acted like a fool that anyone could've had an inkling of a chance to see. Disgust and embarrassment sum up her feelings, and she makes it known when she sees Alastor.

Vox... doesn't take it all well. He's frustrated and can't help but blame Alastor as if he had control of the curse. He hates him. And he blames him for the stupid feelings that STILL are there. Everything is so scrambled for him. He feels guilty, but at the same time doesn't. He refuses to feel guilt for Alastor. Even when they were "friends", Vox could remember how Alastor still seemed to think he was above him. But then, Vox had absolutely toyed with Alastor who was more or less isolated. He had wanted to do things that, while he's not exactly opposed of others doing them, he himself wasn't exactly interested in doing. Vox decided it's easier to be mad at Alastor than feel remorse and disgust with himself. When they cross paths, he's very cold to Alastor. He wants to relish how he sees Alastor clutch his staff tighter when they have eye contact, or just Vox being in the same room has Alastor moving closer to anybody else. Like he'd rather take his chances with anybody as long as it wasn't Vox. But when he tries to be pleased, something just isn't clicking and instead his head gets fuzzy and he feels like his insides need to come out. So he gives Alastor very little time of day. Maybe a few words or glances, but overall doesn't even give Alastor a cocky smile or sneer. Just an impassive look.

Despite the curse being gone, there are the occasional lapses. Particularly with those Alastor spends the most time with. All the hotel residents try to keep each other in check, Husk and Angel, for example, catching the other if they're falling back to drugging Alastor. Vaggie might see a dress and buy it, planning a way to put it on Alastor before catching herself and burning it. Charlie will hit her head telling herself to stop the obsessive thinking, sometimes to the point of hurting herself because she CAN'T put her friend through that again. On the rare occasion, it won't be caught in time. Angel Dust has successfully drugged Alastor and not long after went to get help in a panic. Alastor frequently gets more paranoid again about the curse not actually being gone and generally more cagey for a few days, especially around the person who did it. The residents try to help the best they can. These lapses aren't frequent enough to be like an everyday problem but will vary from person to person. Generally speaking, these lapses are luckily pretty short and generally don't get as far as a thought or a small subconscious action.

And despite everything, Keekee still doesn't like him. Something Alastor finds quite funny as well as comforting. While he's grateful for the curse to be gone, it still lingers here and there. And it's done damage to Alastor, he knows this in the way he can't relax, the nightmares that plague him. And sometimes he wished the curse wasn't lifted. That his nightmares and behavior were "still justifiable". That they weren't "unreasonable" now. But Keekee is the same. Disliking to kinda tolerating him when he needs the pity, the same as before. Everyone else in the hotel thinks it's odd that Alastor's smile gets wider when Keekee growls at him as he picks her up, or when she hisses and runs off from him. But they don't question it. It's the least they can do.

Alastor himself despises the pity he sees in their eyes sometimes. He hates the paranoia he still feels about it, the fear that the curse is gone was actually a dream or something momentary. And the lapses don't help much. But Alastor continues on as best he can, trying to play the confident radio demon he's touted about as for all his years. He relishes the fear in people's eyes but falls back on habits like the aforementioned noting down everyone's habits and schedules in his notebook and keeping up with the time. But he also still flirts like he used to when he thinks it's needed and gets embarrassed when it doesn't work or someone points out he doesn't need to do it. He was so used to working around and using the curse to his advantage that now those tactics are kind of pointless. He still has a difficult time taking a stroll and not feeling eyes on him constantly, and can be on edge for a sudden suitor to pop up. But he does relish the lack of attention and adoration when he can get past that anxiety. Alastor often has to talk himself through walking out of his room, assuring himself he wasn't going to get swarmed by unwanted advances. He still has days of isolation and feeling alone, moments of sudden irritation and times where the idea of doing his radio show sounds more unappealing. He has moments of insomnia or refusing sleep, just to avoid any nightmares. This often leads the other residents sort of lead him to bed or let him sleep in their presence (unintentionally by Alastor most of the time). And sometimes Alastor's feelings are overwhelming that he can feel a bit detached and just sits and tries to feel his surroundings to ground himself. He still suffers from the curse in a sense, but he's also become a lot more open to spending time with others in the hotel than before. Willing to have more bonds. He's more playful than before, but does usually keep his distance still. And while he does have a jolt in his posture if he gets hugged or touched suddenly, the stillness does pass not too long after. Alastor, strangely enough, is a lot more empathetic in a sense. He'll still laugh when he sees someone fall down the stairs, but he will also actually help and make sure they're okay. It's more notably seen with the guilt others have. He confronts each of them about it at one point and comforts them, in his own way. He doesn't sugarcoat things and tends to be a bit harsh, but Alastor certainly has a strange level of compassion (if you can call it that) you wouldn't expect from him. This is a more subtle change to him, but still prevalent nonetheless (and one Charlie is very proud about). He doesn't like it being pointed out though and will go out of his way to be awful if it DOES get pointed out. The fear from others has helped Alastor so much in regaining any confidence he may have lost, and is something he thrives with. He probably tries to use fear more than ever as a tactic to get what he wants, especially when he catches himself falling back to previous tactics of flirting. And when he can and under the right circumstances, Alastor is able to relax his muscles and end the day with a genuine smile on his face.

One thing Alastor feels quite dissatisfied with this story is the loose end. He never was able to find the anonymous caller. While it wasn't perfect, Alastor had very few outlets of actual companionship. He had his shadows (whose own sentience were put into a bit of question), Keekee (on the basis of her disliking him), and a random caller. It was by chance really. The phone in his room rang and he happened to answer. And he very quickly (and embarrassingly) became attached when he realized they weren't affected. At least, he figured, due to not actually properly meeting Alastor. So they kept in contact without giving names to one another. But the caller stopped calling at some point, leading to Alastor to just sit by his phone waiting for hours. Not one of his proudest moments, but it was a moment of weakness. As soon as the curse was lifted, Alastor had made it a personal goal of finding this mysterious phone friend. He was positively elated with the idea of meeting them face to face, as phone calls only filled so much of his need for socializing. Alas, the anonymous caller seemed to have disappeared. Alastor keeps looking, but he's not sure if something happened to them or, on the off chance, he had just imagined all the calls. He still takes the time to sit by the phone though. Just in case.

#Shout out to the anon ask that essentially gave the phone friend idea #Forgive me for the description if it's lacking. It's late and doing it sorta last minute #Celtrist #hazbin hotel #hellaverse #cel doodles #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor #alastor the radio demon #fanart #hazbin hotel fanart #hellaverse fanart #hazbin hotel keekee #hazbin keekee #keekee #Hazbin Obsession AU #artists on tumblr

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back2thebasics · 10 months ago

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Charlie Swan x Fem Reader - Target Practice

Hopefully you guys like it! It's my first time trying to write Twilight fanfic but I had lots of fun writing this so I would be down to make more in the future if there is an interest.

Charlie Swan X Fem Reader- Target Practice -

Summary: You work as a Private Investigator. You first met Charlie at a gun range and ever since you saw him for the first time, you can't stop thinking about him. He notices you right away, not being able to keep his eyes off of you, intrigued by you. One day, he finally musters up the courage to approach you and start a conversation.

Content: 18+, MDNI, sexual content, guns, oral sex, public sex, age gap,

WordCount: 4k

You had moved to Forks recently from a big city, looking for an escape from your stressful job as a private investigator. You had covered anything from cheating to much darker things that you were trying to forget about. You needed some time off, so you decided to switch things up and move to the small town of Forks, Washington. Not long after arriving, you discovered through a local newspaper that there was a gun range a few minutes out of town. The first time you shot a gun was for your weapon training course. It surprised you how easily you took to it and how you somewhat enjoyed the experience. The small rush of adrenaline and the focus required made your blood rush and made you feel alive. Luckily, you never required a gun for work, but you always kept one hidden in the glove box of your blacked out Mustang. The first time you went to the gun range, you had just wanted to check it out, but once there you felt stupid turning around. You entered the old looking concrete building, which almost looked like an old prison but smaller. You could already hear the loud gunshots, slightly muffled through the front door.

Once inside, you went up to the front desk, which doubled as a large gun locker. The old man leaning back in an old wooden chair polished a gun looking up at you. He put the rifle down and stood to greet you. You pay the admission fee and the rounds of ammo and you, as you enter the second section of the range where the targets are, you feel the old man's stare. He probably knows every single customer, but you are new here and also the only woman in sight. You feel pairs of eyes on you as you go to your assigned booth at the very back. That's when you see Charlie for the first time. He is in the booth right next to yours, his focus remaining on the target ahead. You find him handsome from first sight. He was just your type. A little older, rugged, strong looking, with a full head of dark hair and a nicely trimmed mustache. He seemed quiet, observant, but discreet. You caught him glancing your way as you settled in your own booth at the very back. As you prepped your gun, you felt his eyes on you again, lingering, but not constantly. During your first visit to the shooting range, he stayed silent but sneaked intrigued glances towards you when he thought you wouldn't to notice. You had good aim the first visit despite being a little rusty. His was near perfect, you noticed. He pulled the trigger like it was breathing to him, never straying too far from his intended target. He also looked detached a little while he shot round after round like he did this every Sunday. Did he? You thought to yourself. It was only on your way out that first night that you noticed a patch on his jacket telling you he was a cop and the chief of police of Forks.

The following two weekends, you made the trip to the gun range to shoot a few rounds, and you saw Charlie there each time. He seemed to allow himself to look at you more and more each visit, his gaze lingering longer than before. Then one day, he finally broke the silence at the end of a session.

“Where you from anyway? Ive never seen you around?” He asked as you were taking a break. You pushed back the large noise canceling headphones that you wore while shooting.

“I just moved here about a month ago. I’m from Seattle.” You explained, happy that he finally spoke to you.

“Ah, that explains it. If you don't mind me asking, how did you learn to shoot like that?” He asked, arching a brow slightly. The sight made you hold in a giggle.

“I'm a Private Investigator so the training came with the job but I ended up enjoying it so now I do it as a way to unwind, I guess.” You told him, looking up into his dark eyes. He nodded, as if finally able to solve the puzzle he’d been constructing in his head.

“Well, I have to say after me you might be the best shot in this town.” He chuckled softly, and the praise made your stomach do flips. You didn't think a random man’s opinion would mean so much to you, but you cared about what he thought of you.

“Well Chief, thank you. My name is Y/N.” You stuck out your hand for a handshake, not yet knowing his name.

“Please call me Charlie.” He shook your hand, giving you a warm smile. His touch lingering slightly on your smaller hand. His hand slightly calloused and rough felt warm in your grip. You both pulled away and went back to your own thing. He kept shooting a few rounds. You found yourself simply watching him for the rest of the session.

A few months later…

After settling in fully into the Forks' lifestyle, you noticed a few things. Charlie was everywhere, and everyone in town knew and respected him. He was also a very quiet, reserved man who was impossible to read at times. You always felt nervous talking to him for some reason despite his trustworthy reputation as the town's hero. You were sitting in the only bar in town. You rarely went out for drinks, but tonight you sat on a high stool dressed in a nice black jumpsuit. You took the time to do your hair and apply a little makeup, which was a rare sight. While you were lost in thought, a person suddenly occupied the empty seat next to you.

“Fancy seeing you here.” Charlie sat with an ease that made you think this was his usual spot. You flashed him a smile that he returned.

“Yeah, what are the odds?” You joked back, knowing it was the only bar around for miles.

“You come here often?” You add in teasing him.

“Probably more than I should.” He joked back and gave the bartender a little signal. A few minutes later, a tall draft beer sat in front of him. Your cocktail sat half empty as you nursed it, taking your time to make sure you could still drive home after. The two of you sat and talked for a while, the time slipping by as easy conversation flowed effortlessly.

“I have this cabin up in the mountains with an outdoor practice range. I usually go up there with my buddies during hunting season, but I was wondering if you'd maybe want to go there to shoot. I mean you don't have to but if it interests you, I could um.. take you.” He seemed to get flustered by the proposition. Was he asking you on a date? “Yeah, that sounds great. I'm free next weekend.” Your answer eased his antsy demeanor, and he settled back into the stool, smiling at you, pleased.

“Perfect then. Ill pick you up and we can go.” He confirmed and the thought of going on a weekend trip to his cabin excited you more than anything had in the past 2 months .

The weekend came, and you felt like a teenager as you paced by your window waiting for his truck to pull into the driveway. The outfit you had spent hours debating was a functional but cute ensemble consisting of a pair of jeans, a black tank top paired with a soft Forrest green flannel, and a pair of lace up hiking boots. You heard the gravel crunch and then saw his truck slow to a stop. To your surprise, Charlie exited the truck and approached your front door. A loud but still polite knock sounded a few minutes later, and you had to stop yourself from running to the door like a love-struck teenager. Opening the door, you admired him for a moment. He had shaved, leaving only his signature mustache perfectly trimmed. He wore dark-colored jeans paired with a gray t-shirt and a faded leather jacket. He looked so handsome that you had to stop yourself from ogling too long and making things awkward.

“Ready to go?” He asked, flashing you a smile that almost took your breath away.

“Yeah, but I don't have a gun. Sorry, I forgot to mention that earlier.” You usually borrowed one from the range.

"No worries, I got you covered." He replied, smirking. Walking back to his truck and you followed instinctively. He opened the hatch of his truck to reveal a black trunk of some sort. He pulled it towards him and unlatched the cover to reveal a whole arsenal of firearms, from pistols to rifles.

There were loads of ammo and other things as well and you were relieved he came prepared. You were willing to simply watch him shoot if it had come to it. You climbed in the truck after Charlie held the door open for you. He drove the both of you into the mountains, the forest getting thicker the further you drove. You filled the silence with pleasant conversation. You couldn't remember feeling this comfortable with anyone on this level before meeting Charlie. He made you feel seen, safe and fuzzy inside. Like a warm roaring fire was slowly building within you every time you thought of him or saw him in town. Once you arrived at the cabin, he helped you out of the truck and gave you a quick tour of the property. He showed you around the little clearing where he had set up many targets of varying distances, sizes and difficulty. He seemed proud of his hard work as he walked you around, showing you all the little details he had thought of and engineered himself. He then brought you inside the cute little log cabin that had a small kitchen, bathroom and a single bedroom. The inside was decorated with memorabilia that had been collected over the years. The cabin had charm and you couldn't help but walk around appreciating all the little momentos that made the cabin feel alive. This place was Charlie's space and you could tell he had fun times here in the past with his friends.

“Its so nice Charlie, wow.” You told him, admiring the little metal fireplace in the corner of the living room. He saw you looking and approached to start making a fire. “You like it?” He smiled, crouching down to add logs to the fireplace.

“Yeah, I love it.” You replied, still finding more things to look at. Everything in here had a story behind it and you couldn't wait to ask him more about his different adventures.

“We can take a little break and eat before we go out to shoot.” He lit the fire and then stood to cross the cabin over to the fridge.

“You brought food?” You asked confused, not remembering a cooler of any kind. He open the fridge door and the fridge was fully stocked.

“I came up here yesterday to make sure we had food and other supplies we might need.” He pulled out a few things, placing them on the counter and closing the door once more. The thought of him going through all this effort for you made your belly warm and a rush of butterflies to flutter around. There was a tension in the air but it wasn't the bad kind. You went to his side to help him prepare the food. You made some steak and potatoes along with some steamed green beans.

“My daughter showed me how to cook. Without her I would still be eating tv dinners every night.” He laughed to himself, draining the boiling water from the potatoes carefully.

“You have a daughter? I didn't know.” There were still a few things you wanted to know about him and you were curious to learn more.

“Yeah, Bella, she doesn't live with me anymore. She has a husband Edward and they live together with their daughter, Renesmee. I go visit them as much as I can nowadays.” He seemed wistful but the love that shined in his eyes made it clear the level of affection he held for his daughter and her family.

“Hopefully, I can meet her one day.” You smiled at him warmly.

“Yeah, that would be nice.” He agreed, looking into your eyes, his dark pupils flaring slightly. He looked away, going back to preparing the food. Once you were both done, you sat and ate in a peaceful silence. Then it was time for some fun.

You fired round after round, enjoying the rare sunshine that made the day even more special. You had friendly competitions with Charlie, who liked to tease that you were cheating by distracting him. In the end you won fair and square and you celebrated by opening a beer and sitting tother in the clearing on a large fallen log. He smiled at you as you took a sip of your beer. You were a little sweaty, your hair clung to the back of your neck from the beaming heat of the sun. Charlie seemed lost in thought, so you broke the silence first.

“What are you thinking about?” You asked softly.

“I can't remember the last time I was this happy.” He said simply, and the words flared something inside you like the fire that was building before it came to a roar suddenly. It gave you the confidence you needed to say the words that had been on your mind for the past month.

“I like you Charlie.” The words came out in a single breath, softly spoken, making you feel vulnerable.

“You do?” He asked, looking at you with a fierce look of longing. His question seemed like it served for his reassurance. Like he couldn't believe that someone like you could ever like someone like him.

“Yeah, a lot.” You replied nodding, a small smile forming on your lips. You felt nervous, giddy energy bubbling inside.

“Fuck sweetheart, you sure? I am a lot older than you are.” He seemed to be having an internal battle. You did have a considerable age gap between you, but that did not stop the attraction that you felt. He was kind, charming, warm and considerate, along with incredibly hot, which helped.

“I know, but that doesn't change anything for me. If it doesn't bother you then it doesn't bother me.” You said softly, scared he would reject you after bearing yourself to him. He looked torn and intense, and it made you nervous.

“Listen, I don't want you to think I have ill intentions. I like you too, trust me. Shit, I don't remember the last time I felt like this. It makes me feel young again.” He swore and chuckled, shaking his head.

You felt hopeful, so you decided to take a leap of faith. You knew he would never make the first move, so you did. You leaned in slowly, giving him time to pull back if he wanted to. He instead pulled in closer as well and your lips met his. The kiss started slowly as you sighed into the soft contact of your lips. His mustache brushed against your upper lip and you gently griped the back of his neck with your hand. The kiss grew more intense as he brushed his tongue against your bottom lip mid kiss. You opened up for him and let your tongue explore as well. You pulled back breathless and the both of you held each other's eyes. Heat was building low in your stomach, sending a pool of liquid to your core.

“Do you want to go inside?” He asked gruffly, his voice thick with desire.

“Yeah.” You led the way, standing from the log and feeling charlie follow behind you. Once inside, you couldn't hold back any longer and you almost pounced on him. Turning back to him once he closed the door and pressing him up against it, resuming the kiss you shared outside. It took him a split second to return the kiss, gripping your hips firmly with strong hands. He surprised you by turning the both of you suddenly so your back was pressed against the door. You released a small breath and looped your hands around his neck. He grabbed behind your thighs and lifted you effortlessly so your legs wrapped around his torso.

The kiss continued fierce and passionate. Your hands gripped the back of his hair slightly, tugging the short strands between your fingers, earning a rough rumble from Charlie. The sound set another wave of lust to your core. You broke the kiss panting and looked into his blazing dark eyes that devoured you.

“Charlie, I need you.” You spoke the words sounding needy even to your own ears.

“Fuck sweetheart, are you sure?” He asked for your consent, his eyes hopeful but careful, making sure you felt comfortable.

“Yes, Ive never been more sure.” You answered with a small smile, knowing this was important to him.

“I don't have any, um, protection, darling.” His low, almost embarrassed voice made your heart swell. You stroked your thumb on his cheek. “I'm on birth control. It's okay.” You answered, soothing his worries.

You saw the restraint in him give in that moment as he carried you to the bedroom. You felt the excitement return, and you started peppering kisses to his jaw, down his neck, over the strong column of his stubbled throat. He groaned deep in his throat, a sound of pure male pleasure and it encouraged you. He set you down gently on the queen size bed hovering over you and leaning down to return the favour. He trailed kisses down your neck to your exposed collar bones, spreading kisses across them like he was appreciating every inch of your skin. You shivered with pleasure beneath his strong frame. He gently helped you out of the flannel you wore and then the tank top and jeans, leaving you in your underwear. Then you went to work on his clothing, shedding him of his layers until he was in his boxers and socks.

The two of you continued the frenzied kissing like horny teenagers because that's what you both felt like. He was hard and you could tell it was big. It excited you and your hand trailed down to pull out his large cock from the confines of his underwear. He let out a huff of breath and he groaned when you started stroking him slowly, teasing him a little. He sat back and pulled you up with him so you were straddling his lap. He expertly unclasped your bra, and the look of admiration and pure lust thrilled you. He spent time appreciating your breasts, kissing them, licking your hard budding nipples, and then gently nipping the tips with his teeth, sending you twitching of pleasure in his arms. He made another guttural sound of pleasure and then you were beneath him again. He was trailing kisses down your stomach, going lower and lower until he reached your soaking wet clothed mound. He peeled your wet underwear from your legs and flicked them on the floor. He looked up at you with an intense lustful gaze, his dark eyes asking before his lips spoke the words.

“Can I?” The question was almost whispered against your core, sending shivers up your spine. You nodded quickly, flustered. Your cheeks felt warm and your breathing was still a little erratic from the intensity of the moment. He dipped down to your slick folds and got to work, starting with slow teasing licks that made you crazy. Your hands instinctively flew out to grip his dark brown hair. You felt his facial hair brush against your inner thighs and it turned you on. He devoured your pussy like a starving man, with languid strokes of his tongue that increased in speed slowly, followed by slightly sucking on your sensitive clit. You pulled harder on his hair, releasing little moans and soft cries at the pleasure. He increased in speed and intensity until you felt the slow climb of your orgasm forming. It came like a crashing wave, strong and sure. The white hot pleasure peaking and sending you free falling of the ledge. Your legs shook as you came on his tongue, moaning loudly and releasing his hair to grip the sheets tightly with bunched fists. He pulled back after you were done riding the comedown of your dizzying orgasm.

“You taste so good, Princess.” He praised low and throaty from his own desire.

“Charlie, I want your dick.” The request left you without even thinking, you were still hypnotized from the rush of coming hard for him. He seemed pleased at the words and he pulled down his boxer briefs, his fully erect dick touching his happy trail. He was a good 7 inches for sure and the sight of him in his full glory made your mouth water. He positioned himself until he was lined up to your slick entrance and then, with a smooth slow thrust, he pushed in. The feeling of him filling you slowly was exquisite. He groaned and squeezed his eyes shut in pleasure.

“Fuck you're so tight.” He cursed under his breath as he started to test out a few thrusts. You moaned as he slowly picked up the pace. He braced himself on his elbows, caging you into him and sending his smell to flood your senses. He smelled faintly of pine and sweat and it turned you on more than any expensive cologne could. He fucks you deep, powerful thrusts and your moans increase in volume. He looks down into your eyes with lust, sweat beading on his forehead from the exertion. He lets out little groans and muffled curses as he fucks you.

“You're so pretty when I fuck you, sweetheart.” He coos, pounding into you and sending you close to a second orgasm already.

“Fuck yes Charlie.” You moan out his name, clutching the surrounding sheets in pleasure.

Your back arches and you feel one of his strong, calloused hands on the small of your back, holding you up and pressing your front to his chest as he thrusts into you fast and strong.

Your sensitive nipples rub against his hairy chest and it sends sparks of electricity through your body as you feel the peak of your second orgasm approaching. It rocks through your body and you pull him in for a needy kiss. You come while kissing him, breaking apart to moan out his name as you convulse in his powerful grip. Your toes curl, your back arching even more and then you come even harder than the last time. Your vision blurs a little as you come down from the high, still pressed close to a panting Charlie, who came at the same time. He pulls out slowly and then stands to grab tissues from the wooden side table next to the bed. He wipes you first, then himself. Then he approaches where you sit at the edge of the bed, watching him with a loving smile. He settles into the bed, pulling you close to him, and you cuddle with him in the drowsy post orgasm haze. His hairy chest serves as your pillow as you gently stroke his shoulder and then trail your fingers on his chest. You sigh happily.

“You know that was the best sex I've ever had.” He smiles down at you, flashing you with one of those breathtaking smiles.

“Me too.” You agree, smiling wider and then pulling him in for another kiss.

#fanfiction #charlie swan #charlie swan x reader #twilight #twilight fanfiction #twilight smut #Charlie Swan x fem reader #my fic #fanfics

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dont-starve-scrapbook · 5 months ago

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Let's talk about Wilson's perceived competence. Can we talk about Wilson's perceived competence, please? I've been dying to talk about Wilson's perceived competence with you all day, okay?

(Prefacing with the fact that I am aware that people just like to make jokes and be silly sometimes, nothing wrong with that, plus that that doesn't mean they believe that's his entire canon personality but I just wanted to make a post)

There seems to be this increasing general opinion/characterization that Wilson is like. an incompetent, know-nothing-know-it-all?

Yes, he does have a bit of an ego. ("Just when I thought I couldn't get any better", for the Construction Amulet.) He can be insecure about not knowing something, which isn't particularly odd, it ties into the ego thing. (The quotes for Wagstaff's tools show this though personally I feel like Klei leaned a little into some flanderization there perhaps?)

But incompetent know-nothing?? :(

(once again no-one's said that word for word, it's just the vibe)

This is the same guy who, canonically, forged his way through the entirety of adventure mode and reached the Nightmare Throne before anyone else. And then after Charlie threw him back into the Constant he (probably very likely) made those blueprints for the Jury-Rigged Portal.

He's also invented things like the Telltale Heart, three of the boating implements, (perhaps the Think Tank itself?) and the Gardeneer Hat, which can be upgraded at the Ancient Pseudoscience Station!!

To my knowledge there's only 2 other items you need pre-existing crafts to make, but this is the only one that's personally invented by one of the survivors! I think that's pretty notable!

I like how Wickerbottom puts it here, eccentric but sound.

Another thing is something from the old ARG stuff that Klei set up. One of them was a map with a bunch of formulas and equations, which he wrote! I don't think he was pretending to know what he was writing here.

Anyways bleh, it seems like Klei is getting in on it too with certain quotes and especially the overabundance of puns that just. aren't good. (Anything involving marotters, for example...) I really hope that they stop leaning into that sort of thing for his characterization in the future. He's capable and actually pretty smart even if he's not the best scientist in the world. (I do still think he's a pretty good scientist. He's just wonderfully out of the box) (Most of the screenshots and images are sourced from the non-fandom.wikia don't starve wiki)

#dont starve #dont starve together #dst wilson #dst #wilson higgsbury #wilson p higgsbury #don't starve #don't starve together #he can be foolish but he's not just a stupid guy

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sugoi-writes · 1 year ago

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Morning! I have a little silly idea for Alastor x Reader and wanted to share :D

Reader is stressed over some big event that is about to happen in the Hotel (like idk maybe they're throwing a ball or some gala to encourage more sinners to check in) and while she's giving a pep talk to everyone she absentmindedly starts fixing Alastors bowtie/coat/hair and everyone expects him to snap at you (you two were more of rivals than friends) but instead he smiles at you softly and fixes your necklace. You two only realize what you did when Angel "quietly" asks as a joke when did the two of you get married 😅

Sorry this took so long!!! I hope this is doing your prompt a little bit of justice! Please enjoy!!!

No warnings for this one, really! Just some good old fluff and pining (which I DESPERATELY need to work on, HAHA--)

♥️♥️♥️

Everything was hung in place, not a tassel or a drape awry. The decorations and accents, deep reds and lush golds, adorned every surface you could see. It was... gaudy. But it was perfect.

When all was said and done, you clasped your hands together, a triumphant smile on your face. Charlie, being the sweetheart she was, tasked you with orchestrating the grand-reopening ball. She had to admit, it was nice to throw the reigns to someone else for a while. She definitely got some MUCH needed time alone with Vaggie, who was also more than willing to take a backseat.

Your voice cut through the chatter like a knife, silence behalfing the room with your address," Alright... guys, everything looks great. The place looks perfect. Everyone is looking--"

As your eyes flit about the hotel residents, you spy a freshly-apparated Alastor, who was... off. Physically, you mean. You squint for a moment, spying three things: Hair, Bowtie, Handkerchief.

"Sh-Sharp... everyone looks sharp."

Without thinking, you marched right up to the Radio Demon, collective gasps around the room as you touched him. Looks of bewilderment, horror, and amusement surrounded you both. You were preening him, adjusting him... unannounced? With no physical repercussions? How were you still alive?

Both hands shimmied the black bowtie into place," The music is covered, thank you for the recommendations, Alastor--"

"Anytime, dear," he quipped, not flinching in the slightest. His eyes were trained forward, avoiding eye contact as you pat his chest. Charlie's eyes looked like they were going to pop out of her skull as you pulled out the handkerchief, refolding and placing it back into Alastor's breast pocket. Another, resolute tap to his chest, and Angel's brain was short circuiting.

"Right-- like I was saying, everything is PERFECT. I need everyone on their BEST behavior when the doors open-- you especially, Angel. Everyone has their roles--"

Angel squinted, pouting as he shifted his weight... His head cocked to the side with a smirk, as if to say 'speak for yourself'! You strained onto your tiptoes, fluffing and adjusting Alastor's fringe, completely oblivious. There was a tinge of hair gel in Alastor's crimson, which surprised you. He had really gone the extra mile... albeit, still a little under perfect. Or maybe, you had just never noticed how much effort he put into his appearance?

"Niffty: keep an eye on the buffet and clean any and all messes. Angel, intel and vibe-checker. We have some big-wigs coming tonight, and I'm sure we could weasel our way into their good graces-- Make sure they're drinking, eating, dancing-- yknow!!! Having a good time!"

Alastor leans his head down for you, allowing easier access to his hair. You silently thank him, your tangent continuing," Charlie, Vaggie: you know the drill. Get them hooked on this place. Give them the razzle-dazzle to get them to stay. Lucifer, sir, you're in charge of the fireworks. I'm sure you have something ENTIRELY too bombastic for this, but-- just try not to scare anyone off tonight, sir???"

Lucifer, though still flabbergasted, gave you a pair of finger guns. This was his way of giving silent acknowledgement.

"Husk, of course: you're on drink detail. The more booze, the looser these guys get. The more likely they'll cave and stay the evening or become a patron--"

You blinked as warm hands were on your collarbone, adjusting your necklace. Though your face burned brightly, you didn't utter a word as Alastor finished his adjustments, giving you a pat on the shoulder. You looked up towards him, a friendly smile shot your way.

No words were exchanged, just smiles. You nod to Alastor, before turning to face the crowd. You weren't expecting to see looks of confusion and shock: everyone looked like deer in headlights. You sigh, chuckling a bit as you crossed your arms," C'mon guys, I know everyone is nervous about reopening to the public today, but we've got this!!! Seriously, everything is absolutely perfect now and--"

"If I can cut in real quick, toots-- are we plannin' a weddin'?" Angel retorts, fanning his hand back and forth between you and the Radio Demon.

"I mean-- not that I'm complainin', but y'gotta warn a guy first. I would've worn somethin' else for such a special day~"

You blink, utterly confused, before it finally clicked. You sputter dramatically, eyes wide and face heated from the implications," I don't-- I don't know what you mean, Angel--"

"Oh honey, we aren't BLIND. Admit it, you're mackin' with Tall, Dark, McNasty. And honestly, I get it. Chase your dreams or whateva. It's kinda cute~"

There were murmurs from the other crew, loosely agreeing to Angel's sentiments.You take a step forward to say something, before a hand clamps onto your shoulder. Your face only grew warmer as Alastor stepped in front of you. His pleasant smile strained, his annoyance further proven by his left, twitching eye.

"Now now, let's not lead the night with accusations and gossip-- though I'm usually a big fan myself~," Alastor mused, his grin widening.

" I'm afraid you all have the wrong idea-- I was just simply making sure everything was perfect. Just as our party host is." Alastor turns to you now, his smile softening," And that's exactly what tonight will be, with you at the helm: perfectly executed."

Angel snorts, leaning over towards Husk as he covers his mouth. A hushed whisper and an eyebrow wiggle are thrown his way," Oh, they're DEFINITELY fuckin'~"

You nearly shrieked as you cover your face with both hands, frustrated," Shut up, shut up, just-- UGH. L-Let's get to our battle stations, guys-- doors open in FIVE MINUTES," you bark. The nervous energy in the hall multiplies before dispersing, as everyone made themselves busy. It was very clear that everyone was trying to ignore the elephant in the room (and failing miserably). You do your best not to smudge your polished appearance as you turn on your heel, making your way towards the bar.

Immediately, you give it a knock, two fingers out. Husker nods, pouring you a double shot of your preferred poison. Swiftly swallowing the elixir of courage, you felt some of the embarrassment melt away. A familiar presence appears beside you, mimicking your knock and drink order. You sigh as Alastor's hand comes into your line of sight, eyes naturally following it as he swirled his drink, before downing it. You couldnt help but focus on the bob of his adam's apple, before you had the decency to look away. Alastor grinned down to you, tilting his head.

"Still troubled by their words, dear?"

You groan," D-Don't call me that, Alastor... Angel's going to feel like he's right," you reply, holding the bridge of your nose. Alastor laughs, leaning against the counter," Oh come now, I'm sure this whole mess will roll off your back by night's end~" Alastor teases, jazz hands accenting his playfuk tone. You groan again, frustrated," UGH, no, if HE'S distracted by that, EVERYONE here will be-- I just-- I don't wanna cause any unnecessary attention. 'For EITHER of us. You have your gambit for tonight, and I have mine... We need this to go WELL, not to be the talk of the town..."

Alastor leans against the counter, back pressing into it as he looks your way. Normally, he would continue to goad you into a precious, pathetic mess, but the look on your face felt too... troubled. You really were overthinking things, his eye catching the way you bit your lip.

The two shots he ingested already softened his edge, his head lolling to the other side," ...'a little advice, then?" You look over at Alastor, surprised by the change of subject.

"Sure. Might as well," you quip, resting your chin on your hand as Husk whisks away your empty glasses.

"If you walk around the room like your hair is on fire, the entire operation goes up in flames... This is commonly seen in management, but works just the same here," Alastor states, pretending to be fascinated with his talons.

"And truly, for tonight, you are the leader, the ringmaster of this event... the others will ask questions, and look to you for guidance. If you walk around like everything is going to fail, then it is destined to. So perk up!" Alastor's hand finds your chin, forcing you to look his way. Your breath catches for a moment, your eyes settling on his face. It was flushed, warm... and a hint of something you can't describe. He was being unreasonably chaste. Is this what Mimzy meant by "sweet as a kitten"?

"I think everything will go as it should, as long as you keep a cool head, dear. And if you can't, well...," Alastor grins as he knocks on the counter, each of you receiving another drink.

"--there's always liquid courage to settle the nerves."

You nod slowly, processing his words. Real, genuine advice... and, some sincerity sprinkled in? Were you really that drunk already??? Deftly, you picked up your glass, almost downing it before Alastor stops you.

" A toast, first."

Alastor grins as he picks up his own glass, clinking it against yours," To your success, my dear."

You move in autopilot as you clink back against his drink," Y-Yeah uhh... to the Hotel's future," you added, the two of swallowing your drinks hastily. Alastor straightens his posture, reaching over to squeeze your arm in reassurance. The radio in the room flicks to a new frequency, changing to a modern, catchy song that you recognized.

" Th-This is--"

"Your favorite, right?" Alastor finishes, his grin widening," Well dear, I am nothing if not accommodating. For tonight, let's have a little fun. Change things up." You nearly jump out of your skin as the front lobby doors begin to open, Alastor's eyes meeting yours.

"I expect to have your first dance. Meet me when you'd like to accept the offer."

And with that, Alastor leaves you, melding into his shadow form to flit to another spot in the room. You blink a few times, still reeling from the entire interaction. You hadn't told Alastor your favorite song. Not even once. And, you never dared to listen to it in front of him, fearing that he would disregard you or even chastise you for your taste.

You feel your heart swelling as you search for Alastor again, mouth falling open in silent protest. You wanted to pester him, ask him how he was able to know something so personal.... However, you are greeted by a sharply dressed demon, all too eager to make your acquaintance.

You allow your hand to be kissed, and pleasantries were exchanged. But ultimately... you felt your eyes constantly searching for Alastor. Maybe Angel was right, you thought... Maybe you did have something going on between the two of you. You felt a blossom that had remained so stubborn finally experience it's long-awaited bloom.

Maybe you did like Alastor. Maybe, just maybe, he liked you too... As the night grew longer, you realized that you just might be content with that.

#hazbin hotel #alastor x y/n #alastor x oc #alastor x you #alastor x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin hotel imagine #i tried keeping things pretty GN but hopefully this will suit your tastes!!!#thank you again for your request #im so sorry if this is shit #gdhdhshsjsjsjs

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