#help me she's. hh

[rosykims]

more heinrix posting sorry. i need him in a way that would get me branded an enemy of humanity by holy terra btw.

[neganium]

asfjksah I always feel kind of... guilty?? getting tips. it rarely happens, mind; but sometimes it feels like getting something for nothing if I'm not left any kind of instructions. plus I'm horrible with followthrough if I don't know what I'm supposed to be doing.

[takes1]

tsukishima and yamaguchi are incapable of sharing you

is this a big metaphor? maybe. i dunno. it's steamier this way. read between the lines or something. two weeks of having a cold? or covid? or the flu? idk what it was but it burnt me outttttt

warnings. suggestive, minors DNI

details. fem!reader / suggestive fluff / love triangle? love shape? / fighting over reader / unrequited crushes / suggestive touching / touch starved!tsukki / touch starved!yamaguchi / sports massage, hot / best friends / girls team!reader / sadomasochism clawed its way into my fluff fic / tsukki is transactional / boyfriend material!yamaguchi / brotherzoning, friendzoning / daichi has canon aura / 4.1k words

links. my masterlist. more haikyuu. my ao3. my imagines.

"Oh, wow--," Tsukishima's cruel and quiet snicker at your expense was inevitable. He pushed one side of his headphones off of his ear.

His brow raised in amusement at your exaggerated wobble, how you were unable to stand on your own.

Yamaguchi kept his arms stretched out for you to grab and help yourself up, a master at utilizing any excuse he could to hold you.

"Isn't this- I dunno- kind of excessive?"

He sighed, palms flat against your back as you stumbled into his chest.

He expressed no real urgency to let you go. The guy was -generally- touchy with all of his friends, so it was never worth raising any color flag over.

"We-- hah-h," You gripped his forearm when you tried to take another excruciating step on your own. You sunk to the floor so fast he didn't even think to try and catch you.

It spurred another rare, genuine laugh from Tsukishima.

You cleared your throat with some attitude, and attempted to gather your dignity before trying to get up again.

"-We did lose."

Now, especially, you could truly appreciate his tendency to help. This practice had been group punishment for losing your last big game.

Sparing the gruesome details, it left most of the first-years in horrible condition. Even the more experienced girls on the team were ambling away at a slower pace, wincing, under the weight of their own bodies and struggling to take one step down from the gymnasium.

"(Y/n)!!"

You all stiffened. That was Michimiya's voice- you thought all the upperclassmen had gone, but she popped her head out from the exit and sounded just as intimidating as usual.

"Yes ma'am?" You called, a grimace all over your face.

The two boys shifted further away. They weren't technically supposed to be here, yet, and kept their heads tilted to the floor, expecting to be scolded for not going straight home.

"Head to the training room and roll your legs out-- I need you better before Friday! You two--," She hesitated before telling them to leave, vaguely aware that you were all buddies. "Help her, please."

"Yes ma'am!!"

Just like that, she was gone. Your eyes were shining. You were needed. For the team.

"Oh my gosh..." You bit your lip.

"That's awesome!" Yamaguchi laughed, excited for you. If Daichi had told him something like that, he'd be over-the-moon happy.

Tsukishima crossed his arms, unable to relate, and now tied to this place even longer.

He didn't validate your silent request to be helped. He only came across as cruel, but his real reason was objectively worse.

Thankfully, Yamaguchi was there to fill in the gaps of his awkward, ill-timed difficulty. You smiled at his light concern, an 'okay' of sorts to let him know he could find your condition funny, too.

"Th-anks-- hh-ah... shit,"

It was so much worse now. You wished you had listened to your teammates, to not sit down ten minutes ago, no matter how much you felt like you needed to.

Tsukishima watched, hands deep in his pockets with no intention to be of free service. That sound of struggle was almost as satisfying as hearing you ask for help.

You didn't let go of his hands for a few seconds. The weight of your body was a lot to handle- you kept his palms squeezed hard in yours and were beyond grateful he stayed, unbothered by it.

They were technically tasked with getting you to the training room, but you only had faith that Yamaguchi would see it through. Tsukishima might go as far as to get on the first train home, all alone, because that's how much he hated waiting on other people.

Yamaguchi, however, shared in your experience. His eyes were bright and his smile always waiting to agree, or laugh, or ask you something.

"Can ya walk?" He giggled.

His freckled hands stayed, attentive, at your sides, as you laughed with him and tried.

Moving was doable, but only in little, shuffle-y, painful, half-steps. Your hamstrings were like guitar strings, pulled too tight from your ass to your knees, your quads as stiff as set concrete, and everything was burning hot to the touch. You worked up another sick sweat, just moving 20 steps.

The two friends shared a look as they slowed down for you. It was worse than they thought- and though they had confided in you earlier, telling you that this was normal, they weren't exactly sure anymore. They hadn't yet been pushed this hard at their own team practices (they actually won their games).

Tsukishima's chortle was mean, targeted, in nature.

"Am I gonna have to carry you?"

Your exhaustion blocked any of your usual retaliation. The suggestion was, unironically, very appealing. He had to ability to take some pain away and was 'offering.'

"Oh!" You groaned, palm on your hip after taking a few tiny steps to get to the wall, "Would you? Please?"

It caught him off guard for an imperceivable second.

He rolled his eyes, his fair skin inadequate cover for the blush you had inspired.

Yet, always the master of masking his emotions, he swung his body in the direction of the training room to evade suspicion, instead, "Hell no."

The multiuse training room was thankfully spared of any life, except for you three clowns. There wasn't even the athletic trainer, paid to stay later for hurt athletes. Most teams were finished up already and all the gear -the weights, the tires, the specialty equipment- was in its proper place.

You glanced to Tsukishima, who was second to make the connection that this was an even bigger waste of his time-- unable to take the sound of him picking on you again, you waved your hand at him, dismissive at his catty sigh.

"You can go home, Tsukki, I know you've got better things to do."

Yamaguchi smirked at the light pink that dusted the fair tips of his ears. He followed close behind you towards the mats, near the recovery gear.

'Reverse-psychology' almost always worked on him, outside of a match.

"Pff- whatever," He cleared his throat, shoving his hands even deeper into his pockets, "It's not a big deal or anything."

It was, in fact, a big deal.

You couldn't take even the softest of featherlight touches, or stretches, or damn near anything that was suggested by your teammates to try.

"You can't just give up," Yamaguchi said, softly, trying to encourage you to try the massage gun again.

"You're just being a crybaby--," Tsukishima shrugged, as if he didn't insult you, and took the thing in his hand, "If you can't do it, one of us should."

Without a second of hesitation, you swiped it from him. That thing was a weapon, with the wrong head attachment and in the hands of somebody with as little sympathy as him.

"Yamaguchi-!" You grew warm, handing it to the nicer of the two, "If- um, one of you has to do it for me. I want Yamaguchi to."

It was the most efficient tool for the job prescribed to you. Break up the lactic acid, promote healing, warm the muscle up for some stretching.

That list seemed so much simpler when pain was not part of the picture.

Having one them subject you to forced recovery was, regrettably, more doable than trying it on yourself. That didn't mean that it was easy.

Yamaguchi knelt atop your legs whilst you lay on your stomach, trying his best to ignore your pleas (as you had asked of him). He kept your leg still as he prodded the machine into your damaged tissue.

It was excruciating. Why did you play this sport?

"Stop-stopstopstop!!"

At last, your begging was met with a precious grain of sympathy. Yamaguchi looked nothing short of conflicted, unable to help without hurting you, but unwilling to let you leave without doing what needed to be done.

He gritted his teeth and looked back at you- to check if you were okay, because you weren't saying anything.

The rapid rise and fall of your ribcage was all he needed to see.

"I'm sorry- I-I can't--,"

He groaned, not knowing what to do, and set the massage gun down by your left leg.

"Oh- my- godddd." The blond boy groaned, horribly impatient in an instant.

The sound of the machine getting turned back on made you jump, but you got squished down before you could even think that there was a need to move faster.

Tsukishima sat backwards on top of you. He wasn't using his entire weight but it was enough to keep you immobile in the ways that mattered. Your muscles seized against your will at the primal realization that he was not going to be nearly as gentle or attentive.

Your shrieking become muffled in your sleeves, but it would've gone just as ignored if you hadn't taken that initiative.

"What are you doing?" Yamaguchi sighed, a bit mean and confused at how he just took over instead of talking about it first.

If he was doing something wrong, he at least wanted the chance to fix it. But that wouldn't fly in this company. Tsukishima was never the type to give people, even his best friend, that much faith.

"I wanna go home dude. I'm--,"

His pressure on the inside of your calf sent you into a full-on seize. He flew to keep your ankle to the ground with a pissed off groan and a heavy thump.

"-Getting- this done."

"You don't have to help!"

Yamaguchi was technically yelling at him, but it didn't sound like it. His voice was raised, a tiny bit louder than the massage gun, and that was about it. It was almost impossible for him to come across as angry. Maybe passive-aggressive, which was, admittedly, jarring enough.

He was met with a signature scoff but didn't back down from it. Yamaguchi had too many reasons not to shy away. If he was that bothered by staying longer, he could go home alone. The chance to hang out with you alone, not to mention the perfect opportunity to touch you, wasn't lost on either of them. Tsukishima knew about his feelings for you. Until now, it was never a topic that needed to be explicitly addressed.

Tsukishima threw a narrowed, cold look through his lashes to him.

That was oh-so-intentional, and a painful thing to process as he barks at you to stop whining so much. His hands are giant, wrapped all the way around your shins, weighing you further down so you can't kick.

You were almost getting used to it- how much it hurt- as you feel Yamaguchi settle next to you and place a reassuring hand on your back.

You're panting, hoarse and labored- you were going to thank him, but Tsukishima makes his way up to your hamstring and you flinch again with your face slammed back into your arms.

"Augh-! Dude!! Ha--Ah!"

Absolutely no remorse in his voice, "Tadashi, c'mere and hold her ankle. I can't do both."

They shared another charged glare behind your back, but Yamaguchi wasn't going to intentionally make things more difficult than they had to be. He wanted to go home too, and wanted you to feel better quicker- this was a necessary evil.

Part of your hoodie sleeve was soaking wet from where you were biting down, grimacing. You were slick with cold sweat, trembling, and could not wrap your head around how torturous this whole ordeal had become.

For a moment, just one tiny, fleeting moment, he took the machine off and you were able to gasp in a non-labored breath. He adjusted to sit on top of your butt (without asking if you were comfortable) and slipped a warm hand between your thighs to grasp your inner leg to keep you still. Yamaguchi's grip on your ankle felt after that- harder.

The pleasant sensation it sent down into your tummy became quickly interrupted by the worst of it.

"Mm-h-!!" You groaned into your clothes.

"Ohh- yeah, you're fucked," Tsukishima laughed in shock at how he could feel the tension, the spasms, under the skin once he placed that godforsaken thing back onto you.

You mostly blocked the rest of the experience out of your mind- it was nauseating, and long, and arduous. Tsukishima made no efforts to make the process any easier by asking you what you wanted, if you needed a break, or if you were okay.

It made the last of it that much sweeter. The training room was quiet, again, once the buzzing was gone.

"That should do it," He muttered, pushing the heel of his palm down the now compliant, though aching, muscle of your hamstring. It was practically mindless.

"Y-eah-," Yamaguchi rolled his eyes at the shameless display.

Tsukishima glanced at him. He cleared his throat and pinched you, just for good measure, then decided for you, "Yeah, that feels better."

You rolled your cloudy eyes just to yourself, unable to lift your head from your weak arms.

"Okay! Jeez! Get off of me."

Another ill-intentioned snicker was almost enough to make you look back. It, instead, only motivated you to tense up your shoulders.

"Did you forget that you have a second leg?"

Yamaguchi would've laughed with him, had he not been so pissed off that he was getting- for lack of a better word here- cucked.

Barely able to peel your chest up off of the ground, you huffed and pushed the stagnant tears from your face.

"You are not doing that again!"

It was another way of saying that you couldn't take it, which, in his twisted mind, was reason enough to smile. He had to adjust himself pretty plainly in front of his freckled, grumpy friend before getting off of you.

You rolled, heavy and slow, onto your back, and didn't spare him any looks. You spoke to the ceiling. "I'll do my own calf. Tadashi,"

His face was softer, attentive, at how you sighed his name. Every word afterward was a lot sweeter, lighter, than the ones that were meant for Tsukishima.

"You get my other hamstring. I can't reach it."

Now 'unemployed,' Tsukishima reclined against his bag, pushed his headphones up, and played on his phone.

You flipped back onto your tummy and pulled down on the hem of your shorts, for some bit of decency. All it did was make Yamaguchi's eyes wander. Tsukishima had already been stealing crystal clear glances.

Those practice shorts left little to the imagination, especially hiked up the way you liked to wear them for training. It did not go underappreciated in this group.

Yamaguchi tried not to stare- he really, really tried. His eyes were bouncing back and forth between where to adjust over you, and where he desperately wanted to cop a feel. It's just that you were turned around, with no way of knowing, and there was nothing too wrong with looking.

Neither of them were bold enough to bring up that your glutes -realistically- were the most worked muscle group that needed to be attended to.

Yamaguchi mirrored his hand placement to where Tsukishima had done it, earlier. He was not prepared at how intimate it felt at all, because his friend had given zero indication that it was such a big deal.

You flinched at the contact even though it was hundred times softer than you had been touched earlier. His palm was unsure, and varied in firmness as he tried to palm your thigh the 'right' way. You were grateful nobody -especially that blond idiot- could see how embarrassed you were, as you buried the side of your face harder into your clothes.

"I'm gonna try to be less gentle- so," He lost his train of thought, captivated in the sight of your softness filling the gaps of his long, tanned fingers, "Um... yeah."

Not-gentle was a good way to describe that massage gun on your stiff leg. But it wasn't a stabbing pain, like how forcefully and suddenly Tsukishima had started.

And yet, you couldn't help the reflex to bend at the knee, and almost nailed him with a powerful kick.

"A-ah! Sorry--," You couldn't quite get the apology out, between gritted teeth.

Since Tsukishima had been too busy peeking out of the corner of his eye to admire the space between your legs, the curve of your ass, and all the shaking, he was quick to grab that free ankle and pin it down.

They shared a mutually surprised expression behind you that, if anything, helped ease their nasty, competitive, and degrading attitudes.

Yamaguchi's face was very warm, his legs, his grip, had to be readjusted-- his fingers felt indescribably good in the midst of so much discomfort. He put more of his weight on you, having underestimated how much you might throw him off.

Neither of the two were saints, but if it were a competition, Yamaguchi at least tried to repress things.

He wanted to be seen as good, as nice, and sweet. Getting brother-zoned all the time sucked but at least it spoke to his positive qualities.

Tsukishima did not care all that much about looking like a good person. Being 'cool' was different, and just as performative, but still, different. He had less internal struggle when it came to checking you out behind your back; his only worry was getting caught, because it made him look interested. Being interested, to Tsukishima, was worse than being a 'nice guy.'

All that to say: He pushed your ankle a bit further to the outside, craning his neck to see just how much those safety shorts actually covered down there.

If he could get Yamaguchi to move his hand out of the way--

"You're doin' it wrong," He sighed, sounding flat- bored, even though he wasn't.

You spared Yamaguchi the responsibility of responding to him.

"You're- ahh- ridiculous, Kei. Fucking-- ridiculous."

His nose wrinkled at your assertion that he could possibly be wrong, "The fact that you can talk is evidence enough."

That made your face multiple degrees hotter, and kept you biting a rude reply into your shirt- it pissed your nicer friend off, on your behalf.

"Dude, shut up," Yamaguchi mumbled.

It was ironically something that sounded like it would come out of Tsukishima's mouth, in tone and phrase. He could've told either of you to shut up at any given moment, on any given day, and it wouldn't be a big deal. Coming from Yamaguchi, though--

The blond stiffened, his mouth curled into an absurd grin, but his eyes were fixed and brutal behind his glasses.

All the implications under their words, their jagged tones, were so plain and out in the open. To them. You remained disadvantaged, partially deaf (from the loud massage gun) and mostly blind (turned around), still preoccupied with your physical inability to stay on their conversational level or that emotional space.

To you, they were only trying to help, and the situation had not degraded so much.

You were busy thinking about how Tsukishima could not have been more wrong about Yamaguchi's 'technique.' The pressure had grown, making for a more intense experience than before, with all the new compensation.

An awful, bitter comeback was on the tip of Tsukishima's tongue.

"Woah!" A new voice, one you didn't quite recognize, was at the entrance to the training room, "What're you three still doing here? It's late!"

"Daichi!" Yamaguchi sighs, breathless, for a couple of different reasons.

You winced at his weird readjustment on top of you- and the terrible, sinking feeling that this was inappropriate and semi-public.

Was there no safe place for a bunch of underclassmen to hang out anymore? Since when did the seniors linger for this long? They usually were the some of first out the door, and the guys' team had been done for almost an hour, now.

His grip softens, flittering away, for a moment. A rush of strength finds his legs and he's safely hovering, instead of sitting, on you.

"Oh! Taking turns with the gun? Man-," Even his laugh is leader-like, all punctuated and deep, "Must be pretty bad, huh?"

When he clocks that their captain isn't there to scold, he keeps one palm safely on the mat, instead.

"Do you--," You push yourself up to your elbows again with a groan and a scrunched up face. It helps, to reiterate that this is not some kind of debauchery, "-Have any advice?"

Daichi was there to return some gear. He placed a bag on the table closest to the door, then hung up some keys. All that you could think was how responsible he looked.

He hummed aloud to himself, "Advice...?"

Yamaguchi slowly moved off of you, so as to not look suspicious, but his nervous demeanor always made him look a little bit guilty of something. You waved off his soft apology in favor of staring, curious, at the new presence.

You were able to roll over to your back and sit up, with marked effort- then stilled as their team captain joined your spot on the mats.

He took a second to look between all three of you, face impossible to read, then seemed to recognize you.

"You must be that rookie Yui was talking about," He doesn't realize how important that off-handed statement means to you, "It's nice to meet ya."

"You too," Your voice was ghostly soft, eyes wide, when he sat down to take you through some handy stretches.

His team jacket looks really worn in. His thighs are giant from years of playing. He knows what he's talking about. And your two idiot friends are silent, for once, so he must be super cool. You listen very carefully.

"So, if it's just soreness that you're dealing with, what you wanna do is--,"

"Man-," Tsukishima mutters, an incomprehensible 'What the fuck,' under his breath at those stupid puppy dog eyes you were giving their team captain. Great.

He threw a glance to Yamaguchi- his face was all screwed up, pissed off, too. They looked at each other with mutual, gloomy attitude.

Little did they understand that Daichi could've broken this up in a less civil way if he deemed them as any less credible in their actions.

It was their 'harmlessness' that kept them spared from a talking-to.

You were slower to understand that you were infatuated. As your long-time friends, they often read you quicker than you could understand your own emotions. It had been three minutes since the last time you blinked, and you didn't realize it, yet.

His stretches, and little tidbits of advice, rang familiar but more memorable than the second-year's recovery tips from the end of your practice.

"Thank you," You muttered, uncharacteristically quiet.

Tsukishima rolled his eyes so far back, so slow, that Daichi caught it.

"Of course! Happy to help."

You watched the incredible lines in his legs dance as he stood up and briefly wondered if he had ever suffered like this, before. Surely the answer was yes.

"Well-- It's great seeing you all take care of each other. Hang onto that!" Daichi kept one last, somewhat reminiscent, look on the three of you, and was on his way to the door.

"Oh-,"

You shivered, holding yourself as he turned around.

"Make sure to lock up when you're done!"

When he was gone, the door fully shut, you collapsed onto your back with a dreamy sigh. Yamaguchi was the first to stand up.

He was disappointed that you were so easy to impress, yes, but otherwise unfazed.

"You guys wanna go get something to eat?"

Tsukishima got to his feet, too, and had his bag slung at the ready-- usually not so food-motivated, but he was starving, at this point. The sun was low in the window. You nodded at the great idea.

Head still tilted to the closed door, you asked, "Does- uh, does he... have a girlfriend?"

Yamaguchi avoided your eyes, an easy task at his height, and took both of your hands to lift you to your feet. It was solely out of curiosity. He was so out of your league.

Tsukishima rattled off a blatant and well-done lie.

"Yeah. He's dating Michimiya- you didn't know that?"

It helped to cushion your feelings. You nodded, smiling at the way Yamaguchi kept you steady again with his hands in yours.

"Ohh, right. Right. That makes sense."

☆VIP☆

@integers @paradoxicalwritings @yuchacco @megapteraurelia

my masterlist. more haikyuu

[cameronsbabydoll]

building on the other nonnie- I would love to see what it would look like with the pogue boys ever making a move on bimbo reader <33

— jj maybank

it was a hot summer day, and the sun glistened off your flawless, oiled skin as you laid on the pool chair, soaking in the rays. your tiny bikini, barely covering you, seemed to amplify the way your body glimmered in the sunlight. jj couldn't stop staring. every time you shifted, your smooth legs and chest would catch his eye.

he walked over with a mischievous grin on his face. "hey, you need help with that sunscreen?" jj asked in his usual cocky way. you glanced up, your pink sunglasses perched on your nose, completely oblivious to the way jj was eyeing you.

“oh, i’ve got it covered!” she giggled, pushing your hair out of your face. “but thanks, jj, you’re sweet.”

he chuckled darkly, kneeling beside you. "i bet you can't reach the spots on your back, though," he said, his voice low, laced with a teasing tone. "i could help you out."

before you could protest, he stood behind you and pushed you onto his lap. “i mean, you're basically laying out here in the sun all day. it’s only fair someone helps, right?”

you smiled, completely unaware of his intentions, giggling as you felt him rub the lotion across your back. but jj’s hand didn’t just stay on your back. it slowly traveled lower, brushing across your waist, fingers circling just above your hips. he made sure to linger there, his hands deliberately making contact with places he shouldn’t have.

"you know," he said, as his fingers lingered just under the waistband of your bikini bottom, "you’ve got perfect skin. you really do look amazing laying here all exposed like that. could stay like this all day." His voice dropped lower as he finished rubbing the lotion in.

the way you responded so naively made him even more turned on. you sighed, clearly feeling the lotion work into your skin, as hh's fingers slipped dangerously close to your thighs, feeling the softness of your skin.

— john b

john b’s eyes never left you. he was lounging near the hammock, sipping on a beer, watching as you basked in the sun by the pool. the sun had made your skin glow, and every movement you made seemed to draw his attention even more. your short shorts were hiked up just enough to show off your smooth thighs, and your top barely covered your chest as you stretched out. he couldn’t resist any longer.

he casually strolled over, a grin creeping on his face. "y’know, there’s plenty of room on the hammock," john b said, his voice low but with that mischievous edge. “why don’t you come lay down with me? it’s perfect for two.”

you looked up, giggling, not noticing the way john b’s eyes roamed over your body. "okay, sounds fun," you chirped, clearly not catching onto the more inappropriate undertones of the invitation.

you slid into the hammock next to him, giggling as you flopped down, totally oblivious to how close they were. but john b wasn’t letting that go unnoticed. he shifted his body so that he was now directly behind you, laying you down on his lap. the moment you settled, you shifted again, your shorts riding up even higher, unknowingly giving him an even clearer view of your bare legs.

john b couldn’t hold back anymore. he leaned back, allowing his bulge to press against your back, not caring whether you noticed or not. “you’re so good at making everything look easy,” he murmured, his voice thick with barely concealed lust. “you’re just... so perfect.”

you giggled, not understanding the tension in his tone. "what are you talking about?" you asked innocently, your head resting back on his chest as he ran his hand down your thigh, the soft fabric of your shorts brushing against your sensitive skin.

john b was in full control now. his hand slid up your thigh, just enough to make you squirm. "nothin’ just enjoying the view," he said with a smirk, slowly letting his hand linger a little longer than necessary.

— pope heyward

pope was sitting across from you, trying his best to focus on the book in front of them, but it was hard with you were sitting so close. all he could think about was how you are practically dripping in confidence with your cute, barely-there skirt and those perfectly glossed lips. your soft perfume and the way you leaned over the table with those perky tits barely contained by your low-cut top were doing nothing to help him stay focused.

"o-okay, let’s look at this chapter," pope said, trying to keep his cool. he couldn’t stop his gaze from drifting toward your exposed legs. you were sitting with your legs crossed under the table, but every time you shifted, your bare thighs caught his eye.

"you know," pope said, his voice suddenly sounding a little rougher than usual, "it’s not that hard. you just need to... focus, that's all."

you tilted your head, completely oblivious, your bright smile lighting up the room. "i just don’t get this part," you pouted, completely unaware of how your actions were affecting him. you leaned even closer, your chest pressing against the book, and pope couldn’t help but glance down at the way your shirt stretched across your chest.

his eyes snapped back to your face, trying to appear calm. "i can help with that," he said, his voice slightly more hushed now. flirting was never really his thing, but when it came to you, he didn’t mind crossing that line.

pope slid closer to you, his knee grazing yours as he pointed at the textbook, making sure his touch lingered just a little longer than necessary. "you just have to think about it differently," he said with a smirk. his fingers brushed against your soft skin when he handed you the pencil. “you’re not dumb, just distracted. you could do so much better if you just... tried a little harder."

your lips parted slightly as you took the pencil from him, completely unaware of the way his hand was still hovering near yours, his fingers almost brushing the underside of your wrist.

“y-you really think so?” you asked, blinking up at him with that innocent, doe-eyed look.

pope couldn't resist anymore. he leaned even closer, his breath hot against your ear, as he whispered, "oh i know so." he made sure to let his voice drop, thick with flirtation, as he pulled back slightly, but not enough to break the tension. "you just need someone to show you how to focus, that's all."

your gaze softened, your lips curling into a small, innocent smile. but pope wasn’t going to let you stay that oblivious forever.

as you went back to reading, pope couldn't stop himself from staring at the way your body moved, the way you shifted and adjusted yourself on the chair. every inch of you seemed so effortlessly perfect.

"i can tutor you in more than just textbooks," he added, letting his words linger in the air. "if you want to learn something that’s a little more... hands-on."

your cheeks flushed, but you just giggled. "you’re so silly, pope."

pope forced a smile, trying to hide the fact that his nervous excitement was starting to show. "yeah, well, i’m good at making things fun," he said, trying to keep his cool as his eyes lingered on your glossy lips for a moment longer than necessary. “we can do more than study sometime.”

[reality-detective]

New Development in the Helicopter Crash 👇

This gets more interesting 👇

Her social media has been scrubbed 👇

A White House aide for Biden 👇

Graduated with a Biology degree in 2019 from North Carolina Chapel Hill... Where the gain of function that created Covid started.

Let's löök at her parents 👇

REBECCA LOBACH was the DAUGHTER of DAVID LOBACH (Duke University Medicine; Elimu Informatics; HHS) and ELIZABETH LOBACH (New Regency).

DAVID FRANKLIN LOBACH

*DUKE UNIVERSITY SCHOOL OF MEDICINE, Chief of Division Clinical Informatics, Associate Consulting Professor

*DUKE FAMILY MEDICINE PROGRAM, Endocrinology Consultant

*ELIMU INFORMATICS, VP of Health Informatics

*CDSiC PROJECT, Elimu Informatics (Co-Investigator)

💥NOTE 1: Duke University is run by Trustees Chairman and Mossad asset, Laurene Sperling, who is also the Chairman of Combined Jewish Philanthropies (CJP) and is married to Thermo Fisher (PCR TESTS) Lead Director, Scott Sperling. Thermo Fisher = Temasek (Singapore).

💥NOTE 2: Duke University School of Medicine is led by Dean, Nancy Andrews, who is the Chairman of Wellcome Burroughs (Wellcome/Farrar), who sits on the Board of Directors at Novartis and is a Senior Advisor to NIH Executive Leadership (Anthony Fauci).

💥NOTE 3: Duke Kunshan is a PARTNERSHIP between Duke University and Wuhan University and it officially opened its doors in 2013, which is the SAME YEAR that DAVID RUBENSTEIN (Duke Capital Partners, Carlyle Group, Booz Allen Hamilton, CFR, Brookings, etc.) became the CHAIRMAN of the DUKE UNIVERSITY BOARD OF TRUSTEES.

*Both David Rubenstein and Laurene Sperling are CURRENTLY on the ADVISORY BOARD of DUKE KUNSHAN UNIVERSITY in WUHAN, CHINA.

Duke University is arguably the MOST IMPLICATED SCHOOL IN AMERICA with regard to the COVID PANDEMIC CONSPIRACY and the CREATION & RELEASE of COVID… and COVERUP of COVID’S ORIGINS.

Her Mother 👇

ELIZABETH LEE LOBACH

NEW REGENCY PRODUCTIONS (Development), Writers’ Assistant, Office Assistant, Analyst & Script Editor

*TWENTIETH CENTURY FOX (Post-Production), Office Assistant, Research & Analysis.

💥NOTE: New Regency Productions was FOUNDED by ISRAELI SPY, ARNON MILCHAN, one of NETANYAHU’S CLOSEST OPERATIVES and ISRAEL’S MOST LEGENDARY SPIES. He was involved in helping ISRAEL STEAL AMERICAN NUCLEAR SECRETS several decades ago.

Moving on 👇

This is the man that founded the company where helicopter pilot, Rebecca Lobach’s mother works…

Nothing to see here 👇

Rebecca Lobach was still in ROTC training in 2018.

How is she flying government continuity missions in a Blackhawk in Washington DC 6 years later as a captain? And how did she afford a $520,000 house two years into the military? 👇

Rebecca Lobach, involved in DCA crash, served as a White House social aide under Biden.

She escorted Ralph Lauren through the White House when he was among those awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom by former fake President Joe Biden. 👇

This is a screen grab from the FAA’s Airman registry which is available to the public it shows that Rebecca Marie Lobach did not currently hold an FAA medical which is required to have military certificates converted over to FAA certificates meaning she lost her medical…? 👇

Not sure what she ‘destroyed’.. but she doesn’t look fit to me! 👇

A statement from:

Art Halvorson @ArtHalv....

As a former military instructor, I'll tell you that Rebecca Lobach in NO WAY should have been the pilot in command on that flight.

500 hours in 5 years is Inconceivable! 👇

I think there’s more to this tragic incident than DEI hiring, but it was because of DEI policies that Rebecca was on board that helicopter and there are now 67 people dead. 🤔

[alienpossession]

The Hotel Chain General Manager: Desert Spring Part 2

Desert Spring Part 1

"Hey ladies, need any help with that?"

"Oh no, we're good,"

"Are you sure? Do you know the hotel got this insane soothing gel that helps really well with sore muscle? I swear by its quality, my pecs cramped after yesterday's insane chest day, the hotel PT applied this gel and the cramp instantly vanished," he said as his pecs twitched, a deliberate move from his end intended to arouse the two girls that giggled upon seeing the pecs twitch

"Well, I guess there's nothing wrong to try, our legs can use some soothing gel after all,"

"No, no, let me apply it to you two. You can just sit back, relax and enjoy the sensation," he said with a smirk as he squeezed the tube to release this huge dollop of black, sparkly cream, "no worries, the color will not affect your skin tone or anything, it's very quick to absorb into your skin," he added quickly as he watched the look of bewilderment in both girls face as they probably surprised to see the shiny pitch black texture of the gel.

He quickly positioned himself in between both girls's sun bed, ready to apply the supposed soothing gel. Once the gel made contact to the girls skin and sat for around several seconds, their amused and curious expression due to the chilling sensation instantly contracted into one filled with terror as they started to feel numb

"W---what the fuck w--was th--th---at? UNGGHHHHHHHH HH---" she shrieked, yet Reiner quickly covered her mouth so she stopped screaming while staring sinisterly at the other girl

"E....rin....I think he dr---drugged us,"

"Welcome to the pack, ladies, we will have a great time after you two fully turned into my slut puppets," Reiner said triumphantly with his misogynistic nature oozes out like the real Reiner would, yet another conversion he managed to pull off for the day and he's far from over

---

"That's a very scalable approach, to be honest. Rather than installing these hidden trap doors and whatnot, just put them in the utilities or the amenities. But you did that in-house?"

"Yeah, will make shit easier if we can just takeover our amenities partner factory and do it right from the source, but this is good enough because we can make the takeover more targeted,"

"Sounds about right. It's a more sure success anyway because the concentration is not going to be diluted if for example I squeezed myself into a small 100ml gel tube or 10ml toothpaste. Imagine how many of us needed to effectively affect an entire industrial vat of soothing gel?"

"Yeah, not to mention the ego,"

---

Colin lodged off two huge lump of black sludge to the sauna heater to infect the entirety of the heater and its resulting steam. He didn't take into account the potency of the steam for a takeover in comparison to a whole sludge taking over an individual, resulting in several slightly numb yet still fully-human vessels not ripe yet for picking.

Aside from that, the two black sludge actually infused altogether when they turned into steam and resulted in the men taken over by the infected steam to be controlled by two non-dominant entities that might cancel out each other's influence over the human brain, enabling the possibility of these human to break-free from their subjugation

Faced with crisis of having bunch of idiots walking around with their mind fucked by half-arsed alien invader that might return to their original human state and ruined everything, Colin then decided to call Micah and George to help him out to fully convert these men.

A simple breeding session in the sauna later, not only these men reached point of no return of being human, the infusion of differing-origin sludges caused them to be stronger than the rest of their pack, and they returned the favor given by the Shredded Bros as they bend those jocks over and started fucking the shit out of their hole inside the steaming-hot, packed-to-the-brim sauna

---

"So out of the whole guests.....per your calculation, how many of them converted from using the amenities?"

"I say.....20-30%, but they are the more aggressive one for takeover as they tend to attack their roommate or just general public more compared to the one we hid in trap doors or room fixtures,"

"Maybe hiding them so secretly caused them to be more cautious?"

"Maybe, but I'm not reaching that kind of conclusion yet"

---

"Dude, what the fuck, taking that long is one thing, but the screaming is a bit too much, don't you think? Are you okay? What the fuck happened to you?"

"Uh.....oh.....well, you know---"

"It cannot be that good bro, be fucking for real,"

"Well, what if I show you how good it feels?"

"Bro, ewww fuck no. What's gotten into you, bro? If this is a prank, you better stop this homo BS, it ain't cool, y'know?"

"You really need to stop saying all those words without knowing the implication, bro. You make me aroused beyond belief with your obliviousness," he said as he let the towel around his waist dropped to the floor to reveal a bobbing hard-on that looked ready to breed at its 7.5 inches gorgeous length

"Stop it right there you gay ass motherfucker! I'm telling the others how freaky you are,"

Yet before Diego managed to do so, Jesse already caught up to him and grabbed him from behind. It didn't take long before Jesse somehow overpowered the much bigger Diego and before long, Diego's hole already seeded with the black, viscous invader that took control within minutes over his body. Feeling submissive and apologetic to his senior, it used Diego's body to worship "Jesse", much to "Jesse's" delight. They tussled across the room, exploring each others bodies until the two of them reach their climax and laughed it off with their bated breath as the mess they just did started to sink in to their mind. With yet another mischievous smirk, both men cleaned themselves up and they started texting their other friends to gather in their room for a "quick surprise" courtesy of the roommate-turned-couple

"You think they'll see it coming?"

"Nah, too dumb. Besides, we can definitely play it off a bit for a while before we revealed the whole thing to them. I'm going for Ricky by the way,"

"Then Jerome is mine? Sure thing. Ricky is smaller, so do work on Bill after you take Ricky down,"

"No problem,"

---

The three college girls just giggled when Bill excused himself to enter the elevator

He positioned himself to the back end of the otherwise empty elevator, but he knows pretty well that his objective resided inside of him and it is attainable to achieve. As for the girls, little did they know, danger literally breathed right on top of their neck as they're about to see the world from Bill's perspective even before they arrived on the first floor, if he's in the mood......

[thewinter-eden]

Don't Look At Me Like That

images are mine (except middle HH pic that I got from pinterest). please do not use without permission. ATE pcs are my inspo for this series.

part 4 of the skz crack!horror series (this concludes the Hyung Line).

pairing: Hwang Hyunjin x fem!reader rating: mature, dark themes summary: hitman!Hyunjin’s next target is you, the child of a foreign diplomat. But when he shows up to do the job and finds you ambivalent to the threat upon your life, he can’t help but ask what the hell is wrong with you.

warnings: Terminal illness, smoking, asshole family, political family, angst, unrealistic trust fund, drugs, implications of overdose, implications of involuntary overdose, assault, discussion of surgery, depictions of cysts/tumors, USD instead of Korean Won, Gossip Girl reference, some language, kidnapping.

word count: 6k

Comment a request to be tagged.

series info PART 2 INFO

The first igniting drags of your cigarette feel like a second glass of wine. For a second, you’re lighter than air and the world tips on its axis.

Your family hates your penchant for cigarettes. They call you disgusting; unhygienic; stupid.

Although, In a way, your literal toxic trait has actually strengthened your personal hygiene—a rigorous unskippable skincare routine, to fight the weathering of your face, expensive and regular dental care to prevent the yellowing of teeth, your hands under a constant layer of hand sanitizer and scented perfume to combat the clinging stench of smoke, every surface of your bedroom cleaned daily and your laundry crisply pressed and regularly washed—just because you’re a shameless human chimney doesn’t mean you intend to wear the grime of cigarette smoke as an accessory.

Not that any of that matters anymore.

You take another drag and feel your body settle into the familiar rhythm. In front of you, on the other side of your glass cage (read: bedroom window) the city stretches out in front of you, lights poking holes in the blanket of darkness that covers it.

The clock reads 6 PM.

Lifting one hand, tapping a black-polished nail against the glass, watching your arm tremble, you give a resigned sigh and blow a puff of smoke through the opening. The plume rises and disperses into the atmosphere, vanishing before your eyes.

You finish your cigarette and crush the filter into your ash tray, yanking the curtains closed. The next few minutes are muscle memory—shrugging out of your robe, spritzing it with vodka to remove the smoke smell, exfoliating your hands and arms with a sugar scrub, brushing and whitening your teeth, covering yourself head to toe in moisturizer.

All for the sake of appearances.

When you close yourself into the bathroom to change half an hour later, all you smell is coffee from the sugar scrub and the sickly sweet aroma of your flowery lotion.

“You’re coming, right?” Your best friend Lisa’s voice booms through the phone, the sound of pounding music and raucous laughter filling the background.

You’re already dressed, brushing excess highlighter and powder off your face as you stand before your mirror. “Of course I’m coming, I promised you I would. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.” You take a second to check your watch.

Lisa had made plans with you to meet at the party at 8, but she always arrives early enough to be four or five drinks ahead by the time you show up. This inevitably leads to her finding someone to spend an hour in the closest lockable room with and you calling your dad’s driver to take you home.

It’s not that you don’t ever want a hook up or a boyfriend or anything, it’s just that you’re the seventeen-year-old daughter of a politician and you have rules.

You can’t be out after 11, you can’t be seen with mile-deep cleavage or thigh-high hems, and you certainly can’t be drunk in public—especially as a minor. So you smooth the fabric of the just barely appropriate outfit you’ve chosen and check your reflection one last time.

It takes a second to convince yourself that the heaviness of your eyes isn’t because of your dark liner, that the dullness in your expression isn’t obvious.

“Well hurry on over. I’ve found someone you just have to meet.”

When you arrive, you’re wading through a house that’s teeming with high schoolers, the walls reverberating with pounding music. You find Lisa near the kitchen, one arm slung around the neck of one of her friends, the other hand clutching a plastic cup.

When her eyes land on you, she all but screeches your name over the clamor and reaches for you. The girl that she was just leaning on takes the opportunity to pull away and stretch her arms upward, trying to correct the awkward hunch that Lisa had put her in. She shoots you a grateful smile and disappears into the crowd, looking for her boyfriend.

Lisa’s in your face in the next second, her breath already reeking. She catches you in a tight, sloppy hug, the contents of her cup splashing your shoulder as she trips. “I’m so glad you’re here,” She says, and if her body language says drunk, her voice certainly doesn’t. Her lipstick is smeared and she’s staggering a little but her voice is crisp and sharp. “I was worried you’d change your mind again.”

She runs a hand up the back of your neck and playfully squeezes the knot of your hair that you’ve taken the time to elegantly pin.

It’s a ritual at this point.

You have the worst habits—smoking and drinking and slipping your curfew after everyone’s asleep—but you don’t go anywhere without a Princess Grace-like appearance. Because it doesn’t matter what you do as long as you’re not shitfaced on the front page the next morning. Even if you’ve snuck out at night to meet a boyfriend, when the cameras catch you on the streets you’re perfectly coiffed and sleekly styled.

Even now, you don’t look like you’re dressed for a high school party so much as a cocktail one, but Lisa tells you it makes you look more like Blair Waldorf than the homeschooler you’re always worried you emulate.

You push her hand out of your hair and check to make sure the pins haven’t come out. “Did you get me one of those?” You nod towards the cup in her hand and her eyes light up.

She nods towards the kitchen. “I got you, babe, come with me.”

You follow her, one hand reaching for her hip to steady her when she falls off one of her high heels, and then you’re in the kitchen and the noise of the party is muffled behind the heavy swinging door.

There’s one other person in the room with you, a tall, slender guy near the sink, shoulders hunched slightly as he gazes out the window. You’re still trailing after Lisa, but your eyes are taking in the long black hair that the guy has pulled back in a half pony, the slim-cut jacket with the sleeves pushed up past his elbows, the ripped jeans that cinch at his small waist and hang loosely around his legs.

When the two of you enter, his head turns, and you see the sharpness of his jaw, the definition of his features. There’s a flutter in your chest when his dark eyes land on you, and you whip your head away, crowding yourself behind Lisa.

She’s crushing something with a spoon, dumping it in the cup she’s just poured for you. Then she spins on one heel—surprisingly stable as she does—and passes it to you. “Here.”

You stare at the powder floating on top, and then back at her. “What did you put in this?”

“Nothing heavy.” She assures you, and knocks back a couple of the tablets herself. “Just something to take the edge off. Go ahead.”

It doesn’t matter anyway.

You drink, sucking in the yeasty beer with fervor, trying your hardest not to taste it as it goes down. Before you can finish the cup, Lisa catches your arm and turns you towards the man at the window. She introduces you without giving you a chance to question her, and tells you his name is Hyunjin—the guy she wanted you to meet.

He turns to you fully, eyes tracing you head to toe. There’s a gentle smile on his full lips as he notices the blush that rushes to your face. “Nice to meet you,” He says kindly. “I think I’ve seen you on TV.”

As the words reach your ears, you feel yourself growing more guarded despite the opposite effects of the alcohol. You’re used to being recognized, you’re used to being used for your dad’s fame and fortune. You’ve been burned before, and you have no intention of using this time to be manipulated again.

So you pull yourself up into a respectful posture and prepare to treat him like the occasional politically-conscious “fan” who asks you to take a picture. It doesn’t happen often, but you do tend to be popular amongst the poli-sci students at the local college.

“He’s a senior.” Lisa says, and gives you a nudge towards him. “He’s going to study art.”

Your eyes widen just slightly, and you look over Hyunjin again. At second glance, he does look the type. He’s effortlessly fashionable, quiet, reserved—at least on first impression. You extend your hand politely. “Pleasure to meet you. Are you a practitioner or a history buff?”

At your strictly professional tone, Hyunjin laughs under his breath and steps in to take your hand, enveloping it in the warmth of his own. “A little of both, I suppose. I sketch and paint. Lisa tells me you’re quite the watercolorist?”

You blush a little at the recognition of your most intimate hobby. “I play around with it a little, but it’s just for fun.” When you notice he’s still grasping your palm, you gently pull your hand back.

Lisa grips your arm again, and leans in so close that you can smell the cologne of the last boy she had her hands on. “Why don’t you two hang out a little? You’re both the same about parties, so I figured you’d get along. Cool? I’m going to go find Mingyu.”

There’s nothing you can say to make her stay, even if you could think of the words to try. So you just watch her disappear, the noise of the party warbling strangely as the door swings back and forth behind her.

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

Your eyes snap back to Hyunjin. “What?”

“When I said I’d seen you on TV.”

“Oh.” You pull another long sip from your drink and wince. “I’m not uncomfortable.”

“You’re standing like you’re at a press conference.” His eyes are alive with mirth as he watches you subtly try to shuffle your posture, brows lowering.

You’re coming back to yourself, your body acclimatizing to the atmosphere and whatever it was that Lisa put in your drink, your nerves no longer responding to every little glance that Hyunjin gives you. So you just shrug a shoulder and search the kitchen for your drink of choice. “I’m not uncomfortable as long as you’re not interested in some kind of fifteen minutes of fame bullshit.”

There it is.

You drain your beer as Hyunjin chuckles behind you and rinse your cup of the vile liquid, instead filling it with about four ounces of whiskey from a glass cabinet.

Hyunjin watches your movements with an eyebrow cocked. “I’m pretty sure that wasn’t meant to be a party favor.”

You nurse the drink slowly, settling into the comfort of the initial burn. “You gonna tell on me?”

He examines you again, shaking his head. “Not if you pour me one.”

You do, and then settle back against the counter. “Why come to a party if you’re going to hide in the kitchen?”

“I could ask you the same thing. Kinda surprised your dad lets you come to something like this.”

You used to be, too. Now you just huff. “As long as I’m not a scandalous headline tomorrow, he doesn’t care where I go or what I do. And I don’t usually hide in the kitchen.” It’s true, you don’t. There’s a handful of people out there that you like to talk to, a couple of them you even like to dance with if the occasion calls for it, but right now you’re not itching to leave where you’re at.

Hyunjin’s eyebrows raise as he looks at you, and he glances towards the door. “Then why—”

“Because I’m talking to you.” The confidence comes with the whiskey. The taste of it in the back of your throat distracts you from the blush you would ordinarily be fighting if you had said those words soberly to someone as attractive as Hyunjin, and right now you’re just enjoying the way his eyes crinkle and the sweet smile explodes across his face.

It’s cute.

He’s cute.

He shuffles his feet beneath him for a second, the air between you comfortable as he lets the effects of your statement fade. When the flustered state is mostly gone from his face, he glances up at you again, almost shyly. “You’re really pretty.” And then, feeling the weight of his own words as they drop off his tongue, his eyes widen and he hastens to soften their impact. “I like your earrings.”

But you just smile, watching the pink in his cheeks as he swallows a regrettably large gulp of whiskey.

“You’re really pretty, too.” You say, and his head snaps around to you.

For a long second, he just stares at you.

It’s not often that you find yourself talking to someone you want to open yourself up to, someone you like to see so flustered, but he’s so completely enchanting that you can’t take your eyes off him and you don’t want to stop saying things that make him look at you like that.

There are only so many things that you can enjoy in a life like yours, and you want to enjoy this.

Hyunjin pours you both another drink.

You’re grateful, especially because there’s a nagging part of you telling you to go outside and smoke a cigarette, so instead you bring your cup to your lips and sip. You move to reach for a bottle of lemon juice and it puts you right next to him, feeling the radiating warmth of his side as you mix your drink into a whiskey sour.

He doesn’t move away.

Out of the corner of your eyes you catch the faintest tremble of his hand, and a smirk curves your lips.

His eyes are on you as you pinch a sprinkle of sugar into the drink and then suck the granules off your thumb.

You turn slightly, so close that you don’t even have to reach to offer him your drink. “Want to try?”

His eyes flick from yours, to the drink, and back to your face. Hyunjin’s tongue appears to swipe across his lower lip, and then he nods, taking the cup from you.

You thoroughly enjoy the swirling in your stomach when his fingers brush yours.

He drinks from your cup, face scrunching slightly as he takes in the taste of it.

At the crumpling of his eyebrows, you frown, suddenly interrupted from the sense of control you feel. “You don’t like it?”

Hyunjin lowers the cup from his lips with a look of surprise, shaking his head. “I love it.” He holds it out to you. “Would you show me how you made it?”

It’s not a complicated drink, the whiskey sour.

You find yourself smirking again, and push the cup back towards him. “Keep it. I’ll make myself another one.” And you take his whiskey from him, turning to fix yourself another drink. When he just stands there, mentally processing how he somehow ended up trading drinks with you, you know you have him.

So when he edges closer, the heat of his body flooding into your skin, you’re not surprised. You keep your hands moving, your eyes on your drink, pretending you don’t notice the way he’s suddenly leaning into your side.

“You smell good,” He says lowly, and your heart does a flip.

But you play it off casually, focused on getting the lid off the lemon juice bottle. “You like it? I’m not so sure yet.”

It’s gotta be the oldest trick in the book, but he takes the opportunity like it’s a written permission slip and then his face is at the junction of your neck and shoulder, the whisper of his breath on your skin.

“I like it,” He murmurs.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see him place his cup on the counter next to you, and then both of his hands settle on your arms. His touch is light, gentle, his thumbs smoothing questioning strokes against your sleeves, asking permission.

When you tilt your head to the side, exposing more of your neck to him, it’s a yes.

His lips are on your shoulder then, his fingers wrapping firmly around your arms.

Your entire body heats up.

He’s leaning into you, trailing his mouth from your shoulder to your neck, then slowly up your throat until your head is edging back, leaning against his shoulder, giving him access. Hyunjin’s hand slides up one arm, cupping the curve of your neck as he litters wet kisses across your jaw, and his other hand reaches around to cover both of yours where you realize that at some point you abandoned your efforts to make a drink.

He turns you around and you let him, throwing your head back as his mouth leaves a glistening trail across your collarbones and up your throat, moving up to suck gently at the point of your jaw beneath your ear. “I really do like your earrings.” He whispers, and you feel him flick the dangling gemstone with his tongue.

You’re trembling under his hands, and you wish you could say it’s from his highly effective ministrations, but you know it’s not. You peel your eyes open, all but panting as his arm circles your waist, pulling you closer. His forehead drops against yours, and you watch his tongue dart out to lick his lips.

“Can we move this somewhere more private?” He whispers, and then he’s sucking at your jaw on the other side, his fingers gripping the flesh at your hips.

You can’t help a laugh. “More private than the closed kitchen where it’s just us?”

“Please?” He whimpers against your throat.

You have absolutely no reason to protest. You’re nodding, aching, allowing him to push you towards the kitchen door, because this could be it. This could be your last. He’s every fantasy you’ve ever had, the absolute embodiment of beauty and seduction, and even one night with him could be everything.

What do you have to lose?

You stand to lose more by turning him down at this point.

So when his hands guide you through the living room, your ears barraged by music and laughter, your eyes assaulted by the flashes of too much skin and way too much pda, you just lean into his touch around your waist and let him find a room to duck into.

That’s how you find yourself pushed onto your back on someone’s bed, your heart in your ears as Hyunjin straddles you, his face returning to its spot against your throat, kissing his way towards your collar.

You feel his hands trail up your sides, his thumbs sweeping at the swell of your breasts, and for a second, you panic.

You’re not sure what he’ll think of you, how he’ll react to you when he finally gets his hands on you, but you can’t even worry about it for long because he’s nipping at your throat, his hands dragging your arms above your head.

Breathing in gasps, heart hammering as he laces the fingers of one hand through both of yours, trapping your hands above your head, you arch yourself into him as his free hand comes back towards his hip.

“You really are very pretty,” Hyunjin breathes into your ear, and then he presses a surprisingly chaste kiss to your cheek. “I just want you to know that.” Still holding your hands, he settles his weight back on your hips and pulls something out of his pocket.

You frown at him, chest heaving with breathlessness, confused. “What do you mean?”

Hyunjin brings his free hand back into view, now holding something cylindrical. Bringing the end of it to his mouth, prying off a plastic cap with his teeth, you can see the object as it catches the light.

A hypodermic needle, filled with something.

He spits the cap out of his mouth, eyebrows pinched in concentration. “Don’t move, angel, this doesn’t have to hurt.”

But you’re not moving, you’re just staring at the needle, trying desperately to make sense of the complete shift in atmosphere. You’re no longer trapped in a lovers’ embrace, you’re trapped. He has your hands immobilized, your lower body caught beneath his own, completely vulnerable.

He arches his body, reaching to slip the needle into a vein in your arm, and you understand.

You understand.

A deep sigh rushes out of your lungs.

You thought you’d have more time, but at this point, what does it matter?

Just before the needle pricks your flesh, Hyunjin seems to realize that you’re not fighting him at all. His eyes flick down to you, and he finds you blinking solemnly at his shoulder, not a single emotion on your face.

He pauses.

You close your eyes, suck in a deep breath, and let it out.

There’s no fear, no more surprise, no apprehension.

Just exhaustion; resignation.

It doesn’t matter. He leans in towards your arm again, angling the needle to prod your vein. You don’t even flinch as it pricks your skin, sliding into your flesh. His thumb hovers over the plunger, but doesn’t press.

He’s never had a mark just lay there.

They’ve never just…accepted it.

He glances at your face again. “Angel…do you know what’s happening right now?” You had only had a few drinks, and the flush of your face could be from the drugs or the drink or his lips on your throat, but surely you should be a little concerned by the sheer volume of what he’s about to push into your bloodstream.

“I know,” You respond flatly. “He shouldn’t have bothered, honestly, but it’s not like he knew.”

Hyunjin’s brain stutters with confusion. “He?”

“My father,” You say, and your eyes meet his. “He wasted his money, hiring you to kill me.”

Huh.

That’s not at all how he expected this to go.

“I guess he’s paying Lisa, too, since she started with the pills.” It stings, knowing your best friend would accept cash to kill you, but you also know that your father wouldn’t have offered an insignificant sum.

Whatever he’s paying Lisa will set her up for life.

“So they’ll find me, tonight or tomorrow, just another stupid teenager who tried to have too much fun, and the two of you are just the dumb high school friends to corroborate that it was just an accident. Right?”

You don’t cry, you don’t fight, you don’t yell.

He stares at you, shocked. “You don’t sound surprised.”

“You don’t seem apprehensive about killing a girl for money.”

Hyunjin’s jaw tightens. “It’s my job.”

“So you don’t go to this high school, then.” You mutter sarcastically.

He rolls his eyes. “I don’t go to any high school.” Then he catches your gaze again. “But it really is my job. It’s not like it’s personal.”

You take a second, absorbing the reality of what’s happening to you. It’s over.

It’s over.

This is it.

Forget three months.

It’s over now.

You weren’t prepared for this timeframe, but you are prepared. You have coped.

It’s not a new idea.

So you just nod. “Okay.”

It’s like he starts to lean to finish the job, and then pulls himself back. “Why did you say he shouldn’t have bothered?”

You laugh then, a loud, inelegant burst of laughter, almost directly into his chest.

He’s startled, eyes wide, leaning back on your hips to stare down at you. “Angel, I’m literally about to kill you, why the hell are you laughing? There’s no way you’re that drunk.”

And you’re not.

The sheer adrenaline of his lips on your skin burned through that alcohol what seems like hours ago, and now you’re just sinking into oblivion, still laughing.

Finally, tears of irony in your eyes, you wheeze up at him. “Go ahead and finish it, Hyunjin, or whoever you are. It doesn’t make a difference anyway. I’m alright. Finish it.” You nod upwards, towards the direction of your joined hands, and wish that the scent of his skin wasn’t still making your head swim.

It’s really not the time to be attracted to the assassin whom your father hired to murder you.

But he’s stuck, indecisive.

Because you’re laying underneath him, sniffling past a rush of humor—of all things—completely unconcerned and telling him that you’re alright with him killing you. That you’re alright with him subjecting you to a drug overdose that’s going to be painful and terrifying and the end of your life.

At this point, you seem to be more alright with it than he is.

And then you’re smiling at him. “Thanks for being nice about it.”

His heart lurches. “What the hell.” He yanks the needle out of your skin, releases your hands, and sits back on your hips again, eyes wide and unbelieving. “I mean—what the hell? What is wrong with you?”

You roll your eyes. “He must not be paying you much if you’re willing to back out just because I’m pitiful.”

Which isn’t true, he’s supposed to be paid quite a lot for this job, but he just can’t comprehend how you’re reacting.

“Why shouldn’t he have bothered?”

You’re no longer trapped except for the way he’s straddling your hips, so now you’re just laying against an uncomfortable pair of pillows, feeling the pins of your updo poking into your neck. If he’s supposed to kill you, why won’t he just do it? You search his eyes, finding only confusion and concern.

Sighing, you reach for his hand—the empty one that used to be holding both of yours against the headboard.

Oh, how you expected a very different outcome from this situation.

He flinches as he suddenly finds you bringing his hand towards your chest, jerking it back when you lay his palm over your breast.

It’s almost comical the way his face heats up.

Clearly, his earlier show of attraction towards you had been aided by a hurriedly consumed volume of alcohol and a professionally put-on flustered attitude, but now, when you made him touch you, he seems genuinely awkward.

And, for your side of things, you were going to let him feel you up anyway, so what’s the difference now?

You quirk an eyebrow. “I’m not asking you for anything, just give me your hand.”

He doesn’t protest when you catch his hand again, his cheeks flushed pink, until you drag his fingers across the slope of your breast and they trip over a lump of flesh that’s hard as a rock. The flustered color drains from his face, and then he’s frowning, leaning in, moving of his own accord to swipe his fingers over the place once more, as though he wasn’t sure he felt it the first time.

You let him.

When he pulls his hand back into his lap and stares at you, you just smile. “Did you know, in the early days of breast cancer surgery, a woman went in to have a lump removed, and when she came out of anesthesia, she was missing an entire breast, some ribs, and like half of the muscle wall of her chest? And the fuckass doctors were like “we got it!” Like, you don’t burn down the house in order to kill a spider and then say, “Don’t worry, we got it!””

Hyunjin blinks at you, mentally parsing your unexpected rambling. “They’ve, uh…come a long way in terms of cancer surgeries, I think.”

A puff of breath escapes your lips, another sardonic laugh. “It’s too late for that. It’s in my bones, my lymphatic, everywhere. I got to it too late.” You roll your eyes and press a palm to your forehead. “So, yeah, he shouldn’t have bothered. Three months and I would have been out of his hair for free.”

A few seconds pass as you process the words you haven’t yet admitted out loud to anyone, as he processes what you’re telling him.

He’s trying to kill a girl who’s already dying.

No wonder she didn’t care.

“So, how much is he paying you?” You question lightly, eyes searching for the syringe. You assume he’ll finish the job—everybody has to pay the rent, and it’s not like you’ve got your life ahead of you anyway.

Hyunjin scrubs a hand over his face and sighs. “Three million.”

You outright scoff at that, shocking him once again. “He’s ripping you off, dude. Did he tell you why he hired you?”

“I don’t ask. I am a professional, you know.” He brings his hand to his chest like he’s offended, and allows the slightest smile to twist his lips when you roll your eyes again.

You wedge your hands under you. “Can I sit up? I need to smoke and you’re killing my back.” You wiggle your hips and try to scoot yourself back. As he lifts his own hips off of you, you raise an eyebrow. “Not that I mind.”

At that, he flushes again.

Laughing softly, you pull yourself up to sit against the headboard, dragging your knees to your chest, and watch as he sits himself in front of you, cross-legged. For the time that it takes you to slide a cigarette from your purse and light it between your lips, he’s silent, watching you.

The syringe is at his side, laying between the wrinkles in the blanket, forgotten.

“My trust fund defaults back to him if I die before I hit eighteen.” You inform him. “And it’s 25 million dollars.”

His mouth falls open. “Why the hell is your trust fund so much money?”

“When my mom was dying, my father promised her he would help her allot her estate into a trust fund for me, plus a hefty sum from his own assets as a romantic gesture. For all his faults, he’s never loved anyone the way he loved her.” You scoff, sucking in a comforting drag of smoke. You’re careful to blow it away from him, to knock your ashes into the ring tray on the bedside table instead of allowing them to fall into the carpet. “But that was fifteen years ago, and I guess he forgot that he loved her once.”

“So he wants your trust fund.” Hyunjin says, leaning forward to rest his chin on his palm. “Because he forgot he loves you too?”

Your lips pinch. “I’m just a reminder of when he used to be a better man.”

Silence ticks between you, and the smell of your cigarette permeates the air. You can’t care enough to apologize to him for your filthy habit, because if it’s the last cigarette you’re ever going to have, you might as well enjoy it.

But he doesn’t seem put off by it, instead wrapping his hands around your ankles and pulling your feet into the criss-cross of his legs so he can scoot closer to you, resting his hands on your thighs.

You’re surprised, but not displeased with the gentle embrace of your legs.

“I don’t want to kill you, angel,” He says, and rests his chin on your knees.

It’s too much, the doe-eyed boy staring at you through the dim light, holding you close to him and running his hands up and down your thighs, fingers sweeping low enough to run across your hips.

You can’t look at him.

Turning your eyes away, you knock the ash off the end of your cigarette and laugh. “That’s so kind, thanks.” You drop the rest of the butt into the tray and brush your hands together. “Alright. I’m ready. Let’s get you paid.” You scoop up the syringe and hold it out to him, eyes wide and inviting.

He takes it from you, but he doesn’t take your arm again.

In the quiet of his indecision, you can’t help yourself. Your fingers find the soft swoop of his hair falling over his forehead, letting a few strands slide through your fingers before you pull yourself together and extend your arm to him. “Do it, Hyunjin.” You say softly, ignoring the way your movements made him look at you. “If you don’t do it, he’ll hire someone else. His campaign isn’t doing well, he’s facing asset forfeiture—he needs the money. If you don’t kill me, someone else will.”

Hyunjin’s hand finds yours, his fingertips smoothing up the underside of your forearm towards that vein that he found earlier. A drop of blood has gathered where he pricked you, the trail where it dripped dry and crusted.

You’re not scared, you’re not worried.

You’re a little relieved, actually, that you don’t have to pretend anymore. Because you’ve known for months that your time is running out. You’ve known for months that no one would care even if you told them.

The pounding of the music outside the door fills the space, reminding you that you were supposed to come in here to have the night of your life, and now, instead, the most beautiful boy you’ve ever seen is going to inject poison into your bloodstream and leave you to die on a stranger’s bed.

That does dishearten you a little bit.

He presses his thumb against the vein. His eyes flick up to yours. “When is your birthday?”

You cock your head curiously, wondering. “Next month.”

Hyunjin lets the vein go and sets the syringe down near his hip. “I’ll make you a deal.” He takes your other hand, too, peering into your face with sincerity. “If I keep you alive until your birthday, we split the trust fund, 70-30. Then at least you don’t let your dad win, and maybe you can see if there’s some super expensive doctor who can help you. Or something. What do you think?”

You blink. “You’re going to trade being an assassin for being a bodyguard just for eight million dollars?”

He smirks, a flash of teeth in the dark. “Seven and a half, actually. And it’s a better gig than killing a dying seventeen-year-old just so her asshole father can take her trust fund. So, what do you say?”

You’re almost a hundred percent sure there’s no doctor or surgeon in the world who can fix your cancer at this point. All the ones you’ve spoken to so far won’t even recommend radiation or chemo, because there’s no point. They keep saying things like “quality of life” and “keep you comfortable,” not, “if only you had more money.”

But it’s interesting, this deal he’s put forward.

Die tonight or spend a month with a gorgeous young assassin?

Is it even a choice?

“We split it 50-50.” You say. “All I want to do with my half is give it to cancer research.”

He’s surprised again, his mind now struggling to grasp an influx of almost thirteen million dollars, and he nods slowly. “Okay. So we have a deal?”

He’s already holding your hands, so you can’t exactly shake on it, but you nod with a shrug. “Deal.”

You’ve never seen a smile as sweet as the one he gives you after that. “Good. Get your coat, angel—you’re coming home with me.”

Eyebrows skyrocketing, you follow his movements as he bounds off the bed and scoops up your purse. “So you’re going to kidnap me instead of murdering me?”

He holds out a hand and waits for you to take it. “Are you arguing?”

You let him haul you off the bed and find yourself laughing as his arm circles your waist and he hurries you out of the room. “Not in the slightest.”

Comment a request to be tagged! Han's is next :)

PART 2 INFO

Let me know what you think!!

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[justmenoworries]

It's actually insane how obvious the double-standards in the HH-fandom are when it comes to Lilith and Lucifer. I have seen so many people villainize Lilith despite the fact that we know next to nothing about her while putting Lucifer on a pedestal, even though from what we see they're both flawed characters.

"Lilith abandoned Hell to live in Heaven!"

Lucifer straight-up abandoned Hell from day one. Until her disappearance, Lilith was the one doing the actual ruling while Lucifer was making rubber ducks and who knows what else in his workshop.

Lilith was the one inspiring and uplifting their people and making sure that Hell was at least acceptable to live in and not just a dirty hole in the ground. Lucifer never even tried.

We don't know why Lilith went to Heaven or if she has a bigger plan and what that plan might be. But y'all are pretty quick to judge a character who hasn't even had any spoken lines yet.

"Lilith is going to sabotage Charlie!"

We don't know that. Yes, Lute demands of Lilith to stop Charlie's plans for redeeming sinners, but the scene cuts off before we get Lilith's response to that.

And guess what Lilith's very first reaction to Lute telling her to deal with her daughter so that Heaven can stay on top is?

A displeased frown. You could interpret that as her just being annoyed that she has to leave her sunny beach (which is what most HH-fans seem to be going with) but honestly from what we know of Lilith, I think it's more plausible that she's upset about, y'know. This angel trying to strongarm her into stopping her daughter from achieving good societal change for their people.

"Lilith was a bad mother!"

Again, we don't know that.

And seeing how Charlie speaks of her, I don't even think that's true. Whenever Charlie speaks of Lilith it's with fondness and admiration.

Lilith is the person who inspired Charlie to found the Hazbin Hotel.

Lilith is the one whose love for the kingdom of Hell was transferred over to Charlie. Whenever we hear Lucifer talk about the Sinners he rules over, it's with disdain at best.

Yes, she's been absent for a long time in the show's present but let's be honest, how long is seven years for immortal beings? And before that she spent Charlie's entire childhood teaching her daughter to love and cherish Hell and it's inhabitants.

Doesn't really sound like an abusive mom to me.

"Lilith intentionally drove a rift between Charlie and Lucifer!"

This take actually annoys me the most, because there is zero evidence that Lilith ever tried to drive Lucifer and Charlie apart.

HH-fans really like to jump on the one flashback in "More Than Anything" where Lilith takes toddler Charlie from Lucifer to prove that Lilith supposedly tried to drive a wedge between them but I honestly don't see it? Lilith was literally just taking her daughter into her arms, can y'all chill???

Adding onto that, the reason why Charlie's and Lucifer's relationship is strained in the present is because of Lucifer. The show pretty much spells that out for us. Lucifer spent years holed up in his palace instead of talking to or even just supporting his daughter.

And when, after years of radio silence, Charlie makes the first step to reach out because she needs his help, Lucifer not only continuously badmouths her dream and the sinners she's taken under her wing, he flat-out tells her that he doesn't believe in what she's trying to do.

Really, if Lilith wanted Charlie and Lucifer to drift apart, she didn't even need to do much, Lucifer did a fine job alienating his daughter all by himself.

TL;DR It's interesting to see how many people immediately jumped on the Villain Lilith-train, even though everything we see and know about her positions her more as an anti-hero, while Lucifer is the unambiguous poor uwu Good Boi despite the show establishing him as an absent father and an abysmal ruler.

[animeshotsh]

A doggie!! | Various x Kid!Reader |

Warnings: Fluff - Curses - HH violence - Alastor hates dogs - Lucifer its all up to bother Alastor - grammar mistakes - may do pt2 -

Charlie could not hold her smile as she walked down the streets of hell, a big box in her hands and a nervous Vaggie at her side.

"Charlie...love, do you think this is a good idea? Vaggie asked again for the 10th time that day

Charlie who was already planning on how to give you your gift stopped to look at her gilfriend.

"We have been over our head with the hotel and the new patrons. No one has the time to play with (Y/N)...." Charlie said, memories of your sad self leaving the room after seeing everybody was working on something.

"I know but do you think a....dog would help them? They are too young..."

"This" Charlie exclaimed with the biggest and proud smile on her face shoving the box in Vaggi's face "its the most well trained and behaved Cerberus!! I know this race i used to have one, they are loyal and friendly and.."

"And they breath fire, do you really think (Y/N) its going to be alright with one?"

~☆~☆~☆~☆

Turns out, you were even better than right.

Amazing one would say.

Charlie let out sounds of happyness as she snapped pictures of you and the little and chubby cerberus. Both of you currently playing inside your room.

Well one of them, since Alastor and Lucifer insisted on you having a room close to each one of them.

"Its really mine Sis?" You asked giving the dog some trears then rubbing its belly.

"Yes! We have been working too hard in the hotel and i know you must have feel lonely, but now you have this frien by your side"

The shadow from alastor and flying lamb from Lucifer where at the side giving Charlie offended looks.

~☆~☆~☆~☆

No one was ready for how was going to be with you and a cerberus.

First, Lucifer almost had a heart attack when he went to your room to get you and saw the puppy who in return sent a blast of blue fire towards him.

You had to calm down the creature that had turned big when being suprised by the hell's king.

"Hey hey!! Its fine its my dad"

"(Y/N) GET AWAY FROM THAT THING"

Of coruse his screams alerted Charlie who went as fast as she could to see her father sending glares towards your cerberus (when did it got so big?) And you trying to calm it down.

After Charlie explained and Lucifer calmed down so did the dog. Returning to its puppy size and now running in circles, not a single sign that it was the same beast from minutes before.

~☆~☆~☆~

Alastor hated it. And the dog hated Alastor back.

When he heard you had got a dog Alastor was ready to try and get the thing out of the hotel.

Maybe he could get you a fish....yeah that sounded better.

But no. The moment Alastor tried to get that dog it turned six feet tall and growled at him.

And no, Alastor was not suprised and he was ready to fight it.

But that thing was more intelligent, when it hear you were coming it went back to its puppy size and started crying. And you just happened to be around the corner.

"Cerberus? Uncle? What happened?"

Oh that fucker played Alastor so well, he could see the dog smiling and wanted nothing more than to squish it.

"Oh Dear! Looks like i scared it, maybe its not as strong as it seems" Alastor joked getting a low growl.

"Nono! Cerberus its so strong and gets big!! It even let dad, sis and I ride on its back" you explained while petting each head. "Maybe you can come with me? I promise you wont fall"

Like hell he would let himself be on top of that thing. But he could not tell you that so he just smiled "maybe another time, lets go and listen to some jazz while i work on my program"

"Can cerberus come?"

At the question Alastor's eye twitched "of course it can"

~☆~☆~☆~☆

Lucifer was in cloud nine after hearing at dinner that Cerberus had pissed Alastor's studio making the radio demon let out static noise and almost stabbing the king.

You were so sorry almost crying your eyes out making Alastor stop from breaking the dogs necks.

So new rule! No dogs in his radio station. And no dogs in his room.

You know what? No dogs near him.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~

The only time Lucifer and Alastor agreed on something: you spent too much time with the dog.

Sleep? With the dog. And no one could be in the same bed with you and it. Why? Because that thing would get bigger on purpose to prevent someone from stealing you.

The only one who could be with you and it was Charlie. Why? No one knew but if you were out your room the only other demon near you and your dog was Charlie.

She would prepare sleep overs with you and cerberus, Vaggie would join too, and the dog never reacted towards them. It even let itself be pet and kissed.

But with Lucifer? Yeah no. Even if it did let him ride on its back it was still not so friendly towards him. The dog even glared when Lucifer claimed you and him needed to go and could not bring it.

And Alastor had a personal war. Everytime you were not looking he would snap his fingers to try and make the dog leave. Nothing even worked.

"A truce, we get the dog out" a drunk Lucifer said one night to an equal drunk Alastor.

"I accept, i cant deal with that thing any longer"

"Well, it pissing your studio was something..."

"Haha, dont forget when it took your hat" Alastor bite back.

"HAHAHA well at least it likes me a bit"

"You must smell like it"

"FUCK YOU"

[deadbeat-motel]

ᐯᗩGGIE ᗩᑎᗪ ᑕᕼᗩᖇᒪIE ᖇEᗪEᔕIGᑎ

These two are simpler than the angel dust design I did since I didn't have a lot to go off of. Posted on Valentine's Day because yes I can.

I don't think Charlie is significantly different from her Pilot design because I genuinely think it was the best design from the cast (before the redesign).

Thoughts below, though TW for the creepy charlie image at the end:

My issues with their Original designs:

Vaggie:

The giant "X" over her eye is really distracting and even world-breaking because

1. Why had no one put 2 and 2 together that the only character in Hell who has a visible 'X' mark on her face might be related to the angels who also sport that X mark on their faces.

2. Why is it shaped like an X? Her eye was taken out via a single slash.

3. If the hair's purpose was to cover it, why would it show through it? What's the point of the hair then?

The hair that was supposed to cover that wounded eye looked so ugly and confused as to what it should be doing. I mean every shot that showed that thing in a sideview shot of Vaggie felt like the animators had to make their own guesses as to how that was supposed to look like. It was distracting for me personally and I hated it so much.

It's been said over and over again, but her clothes look like she works at McDonalds. I get needing to change her outfit so that she looks like she works at the hotel, but it's just been poorly designed.

Why change her clothes' colors from white to red? the white helped her stand out from Hell and the Hotel's majority red background. (In the finale, she at least has a non-red attire)

She's also one of the very few women in HH and she falls under the skinny stick side of it despite being an angel exterminator.

Her hair is kind of hard to visualize looking at in any way other than what it is when it's static. However, when it changed into a ponytail or a bob, it's actually really nice to look at.

Unsure of what that bow's purpose is for the design.

Charlie:

Charlie is a simple but very confused design. The pilot design was a lot more coherent than the current show design

It's disappointing to see the bouncy Pilot hair go and be replaced by that boring bubble braid of all things.

Her undershirt peaks out of her tuxedo.... why???? to separate the top jacket and the pants? You wouldn't need to do that if her pants were a different color like the pilot design.

Thought about it and was confused, as a demon with an angelic father, why didn't she have wings as well? She didn't need the 6 wings like Lucifer but maybe a pair of one would appear?

Out of all the characters for the show's redesign, Her's was by far the MOST infuriating to me. Her pilot design wasn't perfect but it was good, they had to downgrade her for some reason.

I didn't have much to say about Charlie. it basically sums up to "the Pilot design was better".

On to the thought process for these two:

Valerie the fallen:

Yes, she got a rename. Sue me.

I had to remove the moth aspect of her design because it doesn't seem like it makes sense for a heaven-born to follow the sinner's rule of "gaining features based on the life you lived" since she basically never lived right?

In this redesign (and eventual rewrite), Valerie is not ashamed of her exterminator background. In fact, she was known as the most recent "fallen" in hell. her short stature doesn't make her less of a threat to the demons.

She's also visually thick with muscle because why not let one of the show's women have a body type that isn't stick-thin?

She's using the wings that were torn off of her as both an interesting article of clothing and as a way to remind others and her that she is (or more accurately 'was') an angel who could kill them if she wanted to.

Her clothes are pure black underneath the pale feathers to show that while she is an "angel", deep down, she is far from a good person.

She's also getting an actual skin color because from what I gathered myself from the show's heaven. Most of the souls there still retain a human appearance (Adam, Lute, St. Peter, and the other random human angels up there still look human..... but just don't mind the fact that most of them are white.)

Her hair is that ponytail she had in the finale because as much as I didn't like that episode, some designs looked actually decent.

Also, her hair actually covers the eye scar properly.

I wanted to keep her ribbon as a splash of brightness on her design but the OG ribbon looks a little out of place on a warrior so It became that (Plus it pays homage to her OG moth influence with its shape looking like the fluffy antennas of the moth)

Gave the spearhead a little bit of detail on it plus a chipped side so that it has a bit of charm as an old weapon she still decides to keep around.

A note about Valerie's design is that I haven't tackled the armor of angels yet so I was unsure of what pieces of the undesigned armor to give Valerie as of now.

Charlie:

I honestly actually enjoyed her Pilot hair, so I tried to put it back and also simplify it a bit so there are not a lot of strands for me to keep track of. Plus it was a genuinely cute design for her. (There's a reason that version was used in the Verbalase video.) <- I'M JOKING

Replaced her button nose with a goat's because a friend has commented how it looked like the noses of the women in a Goofy Movie and I will never be able to unsee that.

Her hair is also a lot brighter compared to her washed-out blonde color.

She has the same design thought process as Valerie, Covering the darkness of her true nature with white fluffy fur which is stylized like feathers at its ends. She has pitch-black skin underneath and looks like a proper nightmarish demon like the image below.

I ditched the tuxedo look, since almost all the cast has a similar outfit already, and gave her a jumpersuit instead. (Idk what it's really called but that's what I think it is). It's a light grey because she's a mix of bad and good (though a bright grey because she prefers to be on the good side)

Her horns are there and visible because yeah it's cute but also helps her read as the half-angel/half-demon character she is.

Tiny goat tail because can you imagine every time Valerie holds the rare angel smile of approval, her tail is visibly wagging in glee and excitement???? My heart would die. I love these lesbians with my life.

Has wings from her father.

Anyways, those are my thoughts and redesigns... I wanted to add more details to them but I didn't really know what to add that didn't feel unnecessary.

Also bonus! Concept art of Charlie's true form:

[hazelfoureyes]

i've been looking forward to see you post fics recently lol and i have also been rewatching hh as one should during their free time, but GYAT DAMN when angel told husk smth along the lines of "bet i could make your wings flap rawrrr" all i could think about is winged!reader orgasming so hard when alastor fucks her ruthlessly and her wings just spread wide open and alastor whispers "my, my, what a sight to behold my dear" and reader is already lightheaded and just moans in response, whining when she feels alastor caress the wings and reader whispers that she's too sensitive and ends up cumming once more ... i think i've gone absolutely insane help 😭

Sweetheart stop you’re gonna give me a new kink, my hard drive is already full (also beautifully done!! Totally could see Alastor saying that, almost trying to not show how absolutely impressed he is. You should write that story 🥺)

[clockwayswrites]

The Haunting of Tim Drake

cw: blood & injury, bad parents Dr. Fentons, bad parents Jack and Janet Drake, bad others?, child neglect, child abuse.

He’d bled through the bandages.

His third set.

The first two sets had been from the the to-go bag that he had grabbed from the cemetery. Sam had found the old crypt, of course she had. She said since technically they were ancestors of hers, they had full right to use the crypt.

“Besides,” she had said, “what does it mater if we keep a bag there, they’re dead.”

Danny had done his best to hide his wince at that.

They didn’t know that part of him ached for not having a grave.

He never told them.

They wouldn’t get it.

The third set of bandages were ones he had stolen from the drug store he raided. He hated stealing like that, but this was life and death. Death and forever death? Whatever. He chose a chain to steal from. Bandages, pills, water, food. Most of that wouldn’t help Phantom.

He hoped to make it back to being Danny.

But he couldn’t yet.

He had to get away first. He had to be strong first. He had to fly.

It was so hard to keep flying.

Flight was usually a relief for him. It was a way for him to escape the weight of it all and just be. He used to say he could fly for hours. Turned out that wasn’t so true. Danny held back a scream as he suddenly dropped several feet and his injury pulled. He needed to find somewhere to rest and soon.

There, the house under him was dark. It was large, towering, and abandoned. Danny wasn’t sure how exactly he knew that, but something about that house, the lack of lights, the perfectly done yard, the unused driveway… the lack of attachment. That house was abandoned.

Perfect for a ghost to haunt.

Even with what his sense said, Danny was still careful as he poked his head through a wall. It was a living room— wait, what did Sam’s mom call it? It was a sitting room of some sort but all the furniture was covered in white sheets. As Danny slipped in and let himself land on the ornate rug, a plume of dust rose under his feet.

Abandoned.

Danny sank to the ground, hand pressed desperately to his side.

Abandoned.

---

AN: So the HH discord conned me into starting this *swoons*. This is a fic where Danny descides haunts Drake Manor only to quickly learn it's not so abandoned. But ghost rules are rules and now Danny is there and there's a tiny Tim who needs taking care of. For Tim, this is finally someone to talk to, someone who needs help. It isn't long before their brothers.

The question is...

(Jason will get to join the batfam no matter which option- and likely be saved/not have the Ethiopia trip.)

*I might not take the winner of the poll, but I'm curious for your thoughts!

**this is far far back burner, but what can I say, it won the poll.

[justatasteofyourpoison]

Helping Alastor out of a rut…

(A Hazbin Hotel/Alastor x Fem reader fan fiction)

Part 1

My first time writing a bit of Hazbin Hotel smut. Well, any smut for that matter! Probably a lot of grammatical mistakes but I hope you enjoy nonetheless!

Pairing: Alastor x Fem Reader

Plot: Not a great deal of plot, but you’re the latest resident at the HH who may be able to help Alastor out of his rut…

Warnings: 18+, smut, sexual content, rough sex (not for me, but maybe you) oral, rut, slight bit of bondage, p in v, not the best grammar).

Word count: 2k

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It was a quiet evening at the Hazbin hotel. You were sat in the lobby flicking through an old recipe book you had found on the sprawling bookshelves, hoping to find something new to make everyone for dinner tomorrow. You glanced up from your book periodically just to see what everyone was up to. Nifty was wondering around, dusting every nook and cranny while muttering to herself. She relished in tormenting any roaches that she stumbled across during her duties. Angel Dust was sat at the bar speaking quietly with Husk. “Get a room you two” you thought to yourself as you could see Angel leaning closer and closer towards Husk as the night went on. Charlie and Vaggie you presumed would be upstairs coming up with the next “fantastic” team building exercise for tomorrow. And as for Sir Pentious, who knows what batshit crazy stuff he was up to…

After scanning the room your eyes fell back down to the pages of your book, but you felt distracted by how heavy the air suddenly felt. You had felt it building for the last few days, like the air was filled with static and something was brewing… But you just thought that was just Hell for you, something ominous happened everyday! With a small shake of your head you continued with your recipe searching.

“There is a wonderful recipe for Jambalaya in that book y’know” a statically voice chimed, “not as good as mine of course”. You looked up from your book and saw two familiar red eyes staring back at you, as if they were looking into your very soul.“Hello Alastor” you said cheerfully, trying to disguise just how much the Radio Demon had made you jump. Despite his fearsome appearance and sadistic nature you were very fond of him. He was always very good company and you had spent many a night shooting the breeze and laughing with him at the bar. “How are you this evening?” you said warmly.

“How kind of you to ask my dear” Alastor said, smiling devilishly as always.

“I’ve been better” he said sounding almost pained. Which was very unlike him at all.

“Oh no what’s wrong?” You said almost taken aback, the Radio Demon was always on cloud 9 (as much as you can be in hell). Alastor slowly stood up and leaned down towards you, his mouth just an inch from your ear. “Something you can maybe help me with Mon Cheri”. His hot breath in your ear sent a shiver down your spine. He stood up sharply, his eyes still burning into you. “Meet me in my room in 15 minutes, don’t worry about knocking. I’ll be expecting you.” And with a flash of black smoke he was gone. You sat there for a minute, face flushed, heart racing. Whatever could the Radio Demon want with you?

You pondered outside Alastair’s door a moment exactly 14 minutes after he left you in the downstairs lobby. You didn’t want to keep the Radio Demon waiting, but knots were building in your stomach. What did he want with you? You’d heard of the all the deals he had made in the past with poor wayward souls of hell. Is that what he wanted from you? Your Soul?

You took a deep breath and grasped the brass doorknob, twisting it carefully to not make a noise before gingerly stepping into the room. “Alastor?” You chimed nervously as you closed the door silently behind you. You turned and stepped into the room taking everything in. The room was warmly lit, with old books and various flora and fauna filling the ceiling high shelves. A grand 4 poster bed adorned with red satin sheets sat against the middle of the wall to the left of you. You walked forward and stopped in line with the end of the bed when you finally clocked Alastor stood looking over the balcony at the almost-full moon. His red hair almost looking ablaze in the moonlight. His jacket and bow tie were resting on top of the stone banister of the balcony. You had never seen him looking so informal.

“Nice of you to join me my dear” Alastor said cheerfully, his back still to you. You could feel the air was now saturated with static, the intensity of it made your pulse quicken.

“You wanted to see me?” you said, no longer being able to hide the nervousness in your voice.

“Yes my dear, and because you came with such hast I will not keep you in the dark much longer. “You see…” he continued to gaze up at the moon. “You see where I was born it is now Autumn. And although we don’t see the seasons change in hell, for some reason I can feel this change every single year. And Autumn…” He trailed off almost contemplating his next words.“Autumn is the season when some animals have certain…” Before finishing his sentence he turned to face you. “Desires.” He said smirking.

Was the Radio Demon asking what you thought? Did he want your body? Before you could contemplate what he was saying any longer he had appeared in front of you, his eyes aglow. “I know you can feel the static my dear” he mused. “And I definitely know you have secretly desired this”. Alastor wasn’t wrong, since arriving in hell you hadn’t ever even had so much a thought about anyone; except Alastor. There was just something about him. You titled your face up to meet the Demon’s gaze, the tension now palpable. “Ok, let me help you Alastor” you said sweetly, your heart racing from the excitement.

Barely as you finished your sentence Alastors lips came crashing into yours and your lips instinctively moved with his. You opened your mouth to allow his tongue to snake in, the passion of the kiss sending heat rushing down your body. His clawed hands caressed your face before gently sliding down your neck and gripping your shirt. With one swift pull in either direction your shirt was ripped open. “Haha!” Alastor laughed nervously, “A bit lost in the moment, I will pay to have a new one tailored of course”. He said charmingly before carefully undoing the button of your trousers and sliding them down gently, exposing your simple black underwear. The Radio Demon looked you up and down “just perfect” he purred. “May I?” He said, his eyes gesturing towards your bra and underwear. His formality took you back slightly, but you guessed no matter how sadistic Alastor could be he was a gentleman when it came to the ladies. “Of course” you said seductively, you couldn’t wait to have him.

He removed your bra and underwear as gently as possible, his claws fumbling with the clasp of your bra a moment. Making you both chuckle like teenagers. When your breasts were exposed his eyes seemed to glow brighter as he bent down to have a taste. You moaned lightly as you could feel his tongue twirling slowly around each nipple. His hand reaching down to place two fingers between your now soaking lips. A low moan came out of him as he felt how ready you were. He removed his fingers and clicked them and in an instant his shirt and trousers were gone, before you he stood in just a pair of black boxers. His chest was adorned with thick black and red hair which trailed down to the large yearning bulge in his tight boxers.

He scooped you up and carried you to the bed as if you weighed nothing. He gently placed you down and moved down the bed, his head between your thighs. “Let’s see how you taste” he whispered seductively before licking slowly up the length of your slit. His Antlers has grown large and in the heat of the moment you grabbed hold of them. “Ah ah ah” the demon teased, “you may look but not touch”. With that green glowing chains appeared around your wrists and pinned you to the headboard. The buck then continue to taste you, circling your clit with his masterful tongue as you lay there squirming. It was all starting to get too much. “Alastor.” You painted. “Please fuck me”.

Alastor removed his head from between you thighs and sat up on his knees. He looked down and smiled cheekily “I guess it is time we both got what we wanted” and with a click of his fingers the green shackles disappeared, along with his boxers. Revealing his engorged cock which was glistening wet in anticipation. He leant down to kiss you while getting himself into position, each kiss still as meltingly passionate as the first. He grabbed just below the tip of his manhood and thrust it inside you. You squealed involuntarily from the sudden pain, annoyed at yourself as you didn’t want to come across as weak in front of the demon. “I’m sorry my Doe” Alastor cooed. He slowed his rhythm and gently eased himself into you. “I didn’t expect you to be so tight, what a delight you are” he purred.

After a few more gentle, but still painful thrusts the stinging began to melt away into pleasure and you both began moaning in delight at every thrust. You gazed up at the handsome demon and still couldn’t believe he wanted you! “Oh Y/N” he growled as his thrusts became deeper and faster. You could feel him hitting your sweet spot with perfect rhythm. “Please don’t stop Alastor!” You moaned. He continued his pace with perfect precision and you could feel your orgasm brewing, a few more thrusts and that was it - pure ecstasy. Your legs tightened around his back, lightly brushing his tail and your cunt convulsed around his cock with otherworldly pleasure. As the pleasure sadly dulled Alastor could take no more, he swiftly pulled out of you before grabbing your hand and pulling you up “on all fours please my dear” he begged. You faced away from him and placed your pussy in the air, leaning your head down and arching your back. He entered you swiftly, grabbing your hips, claws digging in animalistic-ally. As the thrusts quickened the demon began to moan in pleasure before finally he reached his peak. You could feel him come inside you “Oh Y/N!” He moaned. The static in his voice wavering. He collapsed onto you back and you both just stayed there for a moment trying to get your breath back.

A few moments passed and Alastor retreated from you, laying himself down on the satin pillows. His antlers shrinking back to their normal size as his head hit the pillow. “Ah that was wonderful, I’m absolutely shattered” he chuckled before yawning and reaching his arm out to pull you onto his chest. His nose nestled into your hair breathing in the sweaty scent of you. You snuggled into him, wanting the moment to last forever. “Sorry my dear, but I must be getting to sleep, one needs their rest to make sure their voice is fit for radio!” He smiled. “So I will have to bid you goodnight. Please feel free to grab one of my white shirts and I will get a new one tailored for you in the morning.” He said sleepily. Reluctantly you released yourself from the Demon’s soft warm chest and began dressing yourself, picking the closest looking shirt to what you were wearing from the Demon’s wardrobe. You didn’t really want to be caught wearing Alastors clothes by the other guests…

Once you looked as respectful as you could after the night’s events you slowly walked towards the door. As you were about to grab the doorknob you heard Alastor whisper, “That was a lot of fun my Deer.” You turned to see him gazing admiring at you. “Rest assured it will be happening again. Goodnight my little Doe.”

“Goodnight Alastor” you said, your heart rate quickening once again from the words that just left his mouth.

You quietly opened the door and exited into the dark lobby. You leaned against the door for a moment and let out a heavy sigh.

“The Radio Demon wants me?” you mused to yourself as a wicked grin spread across your lips.

All instalments:

[reaper4thekill]

Fuck it, HH swap AU

Their core personalities and backgrounds stay the same, it's mostly a role switch

Niffty <--> Husker

Angel Dust <--> Vaggie

Alastor <--> Charlie

(the typical for swap AUs, I know,,)

Everyone else stays the same

These r edits bc I was just figuring out their designs for the AU, I'll draw them normally another time (Husker isn't here cuz I can't find a good png of the mf)

In this AU Alastor started the hotel mostly because he randomly thought up the idea once and thought, "that's fucking hilarious, I'm doing that" + a secondary sentimental reason he'd kill me for saying (he got genuinely fully invested in the cause eventually)

He advertised it on his radio show suddenly out of the blue after 7 and a half years of radio (lol) silence. Alastor still owns Husker's and Niffty's souls but they're also obviously friends (or atleast close to it)

Also he can read tarot bc why not :3

Charlie is closer to her dad in this AU and more sheltered, adopting a more aloof, smug, and dangerous persona so sinners take her seriously, she also has a very slight condescending outlook towards sinners but she's at her core still compassionate and still views them as her people and want to protect them to a certain extent, and she still thinks the Exterminations are unnecessary and cruel, but she doesn't feel like she can do much about it since according to Lucifer's stories and discouragement, she knows heaven likely wouldn't listen much if at all, but when she heard of Alastor's little project it resparked hope in her and she decided to invest in it, becoming co-owner and funder for the hotel.

Angel Dust/Anthony never made a deal with Valentino and actually stayed in his family's crime/mafia business for the 1st half of him being in Hell, but his dad is a POS and kicked him out for being gay so he started doing s3x work, and then he met Alastor after he brutalized his harassers one day, and Angel wanted to repay the favor somehow. Alastor seems interested in him so they struck a deal (not a soul deal, just a simple deal) which has Angel/Anthony is under Alastors protection in exchange for Angel/Anthony's loyalty and assistance when needed (which is a rare case so Angel still feels like he owes Alastor). They grow friendly with time, and Alastor offers to have him be patient zero for his redemption project, and he accepted.

Vaggie/Vi is still a fallen exterminstor and still met Charlie the same way she did in the show, but after that they went their separate ways and Vi finds herself making a deal with Velvette. Instead of being a pornstar like Angel in the show, she is an influencer and a rockstar/singer, she does enjoy making music and playing the guitar but Velvette tends to overwork her and make her do things she doesn't really like for views/popularity. Velvette is the nicest to Vi/Vaggie compared to with her other employees (which isn't a very highly set bar tbh) but she also frequently break her boundaries.

Vi met Charlie again during one of her concerts and they got close and started dating. (Also one sided Velvette x Vaggie is sort of slightly maybe canon in this AU bc toxic Yuri is fun (and it's only fully one sided after Charlie and Vaggie/Vi started dating))

She helps manage the hotel when needed, but is honestly only there cause Charlie is.

Not much about Niffty changes tbh (she's perfect the way she is, utterly unhinged 😍) she's just a bit more mellowed out and less hyper (she's still hyper just not all the time like in the show) and she's also a bartender and has surprisingly good taste for alcohol, and also frequently makes borderline poisonous drinks while experimenting, but when she gets it right it's really good. Doesn't stop the others of being terrified of her drinks though

Husker is a more smiley and charming in this AU, using a laid back attitude to put people at ease and more willing to open up to him if they need to (he used to use the information people share as blackmail when he needs to back when he was an Overlord, although he never actually needs to spread anything, just threats), and he's still very observant but he's also slightly more unhinged- He's a sort of butler/cleaner for the hotel

He still gets grumpy time to time, but mostly when he's drunk, which isn't as often anymore ever since Niffty was put in charge of the bar (understandably so)

He has a bit of an anger issue and also gets annoyed easily, and sometimes makes unhinged threats as a sort of joke (they stop being much of a joke once you genuinely piss him off)

He likes things clean and tidy because it helps him pretend to be put together

He and Alastor are a bit friendlier compared to in the show, hes still one of the few people that knows more about Alastor, though hes still bummed about the whole being owned by Alastor thing (Husker can also read tarot to a lesser extent bc Al taught him for funzies and Husker thought it's interesting)

His gambling addiction is also ever so slightly worse

[saturnicos]

Hi! Can you make a Hazbin Hotel Headcanons of how the characters would comfort a reader who is having a panic attack.

Yeah! Ironically, I had a pre-episode panic attack during a class today, writing this helped me avoid a meltdown.

Of course, if you wanted into a different perspective (or other characters, since I don't write many at once), feel free to tell me :)

HH cast comforting !reader having a panic attack

With: Charlie, Alastor, Lucifer, Adam, Angel Dust

Context: Panic attack can happen any time, without any motivation. Unfortunately, that's hits you more often than you would like. In a middle of a conversation with them, you start to feel anxious and afraid, eyes widening and an immense desire to cry appearing. How would them comfort you?

. Charlie

— Oh! And I created a new plan that I would lik.. — Charlie interrupts herself as soon as she sees his eyes roaming the room, your leg shaking while the sound of your heartbeat was heard loud enough.

She knows that happens with some frequency and often is ready when happen. Actually, she's a bit imperative and has its moments of generalized anxiety; although it's not the same thing, it has a basis of what she can or cannot do to help you.

— Honey, look at me, please — She ask to you, holding your hand and looking at your eyes with a serious expression in her face. — It's ok, you'll be fine, you're safe with me. Now, breathe in and out with me.

She starts as an example, taking a deep breath through her nose and releasing the air through her mouth. Despite your mind clouded with fear and derealization, your eyes locked onto hers, unconsciously repeating what exercise she replicates, feeling your breathing regularize slowly, despite the tremor and fear continuing.

She smile at you, holding your hand with a little more strength and delicacy. She moves forward with her free arm at her side, asking for permission for a hug. You, without hesitation, allow it, approaching her and hugging her tightly, feeling her face resting above your head, allowing you to cry into her coat if you felt like you needed to.

— Don't forget to breath, it'll calm yourself. I'm here for you.

. Lucifer

He knows what gonna happen even before you. This man faces various emotional and psychological problems daily, he recognizes very well when someone seems to have a tendency to have a crisis. Especially coming from you.

The first thing he notices is your hand starting to shake and your eyes threatening to water. He's quick to cup your face with both hands, making sure you're looking and listening to him.

— Sweetie, hear me. — He asks in a gently voice, making sure not to get too close to you for fear that this would only trigger a sudden worsening of the attack. — Calm down, I'm with you, there's anything here that can hurt you.

Even with his supportive phrases, your tremor only got worse as your blood pressure only tended to drop, slowly obscuring your vision and slowing down your breathing.

— Here — His voice echoed in your mind, as if partially clearing the intrusive and distressing thoughts. An angelic voice. — Can you tell me five things in this room, please?

You didn't know from where this come, but tried to see something even with a bad vision. And you did it. Then he asked for four things that you could touch. After three that you could hear, after...

When you came to, out of the derealization, you noticed the tactic that he used to calm you down: 5-4-3-2-1, a way to distract the mind of fear to understand what was around you, consequently making you come to your senses when you noticed the space.

He also noticed as your breathing returned to normal and your body gradually shook less and less, smiling at you tenderly.

. Adam

He's a bitch. A fucking bitch.

At first, when he sees your eyes watering in the middle of the conversation he will think that some comment or joke of his got to you, and sincerely? He'd probably find it funny that you're bothered by this at this point.

— What's up, bitch? That wasn't even that aggressive — He responded in a mocking voice, leaning across the table toward you. His tone of voice was filled with a visible desire to laugh.

However, when he noticed that you ignored his comment and were shaking unnaturally, the expression on his mask changed to one that alternated between doubt and amazement.

The mask's mouth constantly opened and closed, as if he were interrupting whenever he thought about commenting on something.

— Fuck — He sighed heavily as he let out an audible curse, getting up from his seat and heading towards him, but stopped next to you when he noticed that he was a piece of shit with emotional comfort, especially with words of affirmation.

With an expression of uncertain, he took off his terminator mask and threw it on the table, looking at the office door, confirming that there was no one there that could burst into the room.

He then crouched down next to you, watching you cover your face with hands shaking, stifling a sob. Not really sure what do, he brought his hand to your back, patting it friendly as a strange way of showing support, since 1. he didn't know how to verbalize it and 2. he couldn't do it. But deep down he would like to try and provide some kind of support.

— I have no fucking idea how to help you, but... You know, if you need a shoulder, you've got me.

. Angel Dust

He knows what it's like to have an emotional breakdown and derealization, after all, it is something that constantly impacts him almost always after the work.

Despite the solution he always seeks for himself be the use of medication and perhaps a little alcohol, he would never make that an option for you since he doesn't want to inflict drug use on you. Health reason.

— Baby, is a hug okay? — he asks you in a compassionate tone, bowing his head slightly to the side as he raised his left hand to rest it on your shoulder.

When you nod, he wraps you in a hug with all four of his arms. A comfortable but not strong hug, allowing you to leave if you wish.

— You need to stabilize your heart rate, you know? Do what I do — He then took a deep breath for a few seconds and then let it out, repeating the process two more times before encouraging you to try.

You snuggled into your spot on the couch trying to control the shaking and tears as you repeated breathing exercise with difficulty. At first it was painful and burned your lungs, but Angel advised you to try again as soon as you felt like you could try.

— I don't have work today, how about a movie? I promise it won't be any of my big movies, your choice. — He laughed quietly, trying to lighten the sad mood with a light dirty joke as he picked up the controller. When he could hear a low chuckle from you, his smile grew.

. Alastor

He literally has no idea what happened to you. Alastor died before psychology studies were taken seriously, and particularly he was never someone very social or interpersonal, then see you having a mental imbalance suddenly was ridiculously weird.

He just stood there looking at you with that stupid smile on his face, trying to find some logic behind your attitude so that he could do something about it.

After a given moment thinking, in a snap of his fingers he manifested a tea set in the center table in the room. However, the withering smell of coffee took its place when he took one of the cups for himself and offered another one for you - one that smelled like valerian, a plant that helped with irregular heartbeat.

He looked at you as he sipped his own cup of black coffee with legs crossed, as if waiting for you to go ahead and drink the tea.

You then gave in and drank, pouring a few drops into your lap due to tremor. The tea actually wasn't that bad. As soon as he passed by your throat, the effect seemed to have already begun, gradually relaxing your muscles and calming your fear.

Along with the feeling of relaxation, an aroma of oils penetrated the room, making a combination in the air of more diverse aromas and smells in a pleasant mix.

By your side, Alastor beamed a satisfied smile as he helped himself to more coffee, talking to you again, occasionally asking if you wanted more tea or if you felt okay.

I love sm write comfort, but thinking about the angst before is painfully sad//

Thank you for read, have a good day or a good night :)

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Can I request Ror x HH? Like the Ror works Reader is the adopted child of the gods, they get sucked into a portal leading to Hazbin Hotel and meet Charlie. The two become friends and Reader often tells Charlie about their lives. In the Charlie meets Adam episode, Reader openly mocks Adam because he is not as good as their father Adam in Ror's world (I'm out of ideas :(( )

-It had been an accident, an experiment gone wrong from Nikola and Beelzebub, that sucked you into another dimension.

-While at first you had been freaked out, realizing that you were in Hell, but you were quick to calm after you met Charlie, after you landed in her hotel from the swirling vortex.

-Allister didn’t recognize the magic that brought you here, but he did admit it was powerful, so your story checked out as plausible of coming from another dimension.

-Charlie welcomed you with open arms, until your family could figure out how to get you back, but you weren’t going to be a freeloader- you were going to work hard and help where you could, all while learning how things were done in this version of hell.

-Your new friends enjoyed hearing of Valhalla, and how your version of hell was, which was different parts of the underworld, shared by the different death gods, like Anubis and Hades.

-You were not only disturbed but angered to hear what the heavens do to hell every year, killing as many sinners as possible to purge evil, but to do it in such a cruel way was heartbreaking.

-You were stunned when Charlie told you of Adam, who was one of the head angels, and how he was the one in charge of this purge and you were quickly yelling- ranting on how cruel this Adam was!

-They were stunned by your anger and once Charlie calmed you down, you told them of your Adam- how gentle and kind he was- he was a mentor to all, even those who looked older than him, and how strong he was and always determined to protect all his children, no matter what!

-Your Adam sounded like such a nice person, one that this world needed.

-You ended up staying in this world for about a week, but when the portal opened, revealing Hades, Apollo, Adam, Thor, Lu Bu, and Leonidas, you were happy to see them, but they were stunned to see you dressed like you were prepared for war.

-You explained the situation, on what this world’s Adam was going to do, and how there were good people in this world, like Vaggie and Charlie- people who didn’t deserve this fate.

-Leonidas grinned as he lit up a cigar, giving one to Husk, “Seems to me we get to have some fun before we head home.”

-Charlie wasn’t going to turn down help and Lucifer welcomed them to the battle.

-When the opposing Adam appeared he glared, seeing your Adam, “What the fuck is that twink wearing- a leaf!?” Adam smirked up at him, “It’s all I need to take on someone like you!”

-The two Adam charged at each other while the other warriors of Valhalla charged in, and you cheered your dad from a safe distance away as he easily handled this pathetic excuse for an Adam, scolding him while disciplining him for being such a terrible person- a father should love all their children, no matter if they did good or bad.

-In the end, you had been stunned with Nifty killed Adam after he was shouting, seeing that he had lost, and while you didn’t want to leave your new friends, you and Charlie embraced as she grinned, “We know now we can fight back, and that our lives aren’t worthless. We’ve got this!”

-You nodded and the portal opened, and you stepped through, waving goodbye to your new friends, feeling content that you were able to help them. And your family enjoyed the fun workout as well.