#Title commitment | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

doublekanble · 1 year ago

Text

deer (in a head light)

Alastor/reader (gnc)

platonic-romantic. (almost everyone thinks you two are in love or is extremely baffled by the fact, a bit more romantic for me but can be seen as anything actually i just like writing people being sort of stupid)

word count: 5.6k.

or, collectively, everyone's reaction to the fact. Nifty is there👍. no real warning this is a normal fic part two to this.

Husk have never gone through this level of raw mental torture, while Angel thinks it’s absolutely hilarious how hard is it for Husker to accept that one of the most feared Overlord of all Pride Ring is vying for a cute lil fella like you. What started out as a small remark over the rim of a particularly strong cup of gin about how Alastor have been seemingly hovering around you, making small talks that you try to keep up with confused enthusiasm - soon turn into listing off every growing instances of odd affections that no one ever thought he’s capable of, but it’s yours in abundance.

You’re standing up with the intention of going outside? Unless he’s actively in a conversation (and several time, even during one) Alastor will find a convenient excuses to walk with you. You’re cold? Everyone else better be cold too, either that or hope to God he have anything to give you to wear. Hungry? Thirsty? Almost like a caretaker, he’s always making sure you have little bites of food and drink here or there, reminding you like clockwork. Staying in your room for the day? Your room is close to Angel, and the first time he come out of his room, fresh from a hangover, only to catch the tail end of a red coat and a greeting disappearing behind your door, it takes everything in him to try and rationalizing not breaking the door down.

(Husk thinks he was being overprotective. Angel brushed it off with a nervous chuckle. It’s a good thing, he remarks, if only Angel kept that attitude.)

The idea of Alastor actually taken interest in anyone, even positively, send shivers down his spine. Husk have been one of the older soul that fell into the hand of the sadistic Overlord, one that did just enough to keep his earn and do what he want when Alastor would’ve gotten busy with a new project or two. He knows he’s useful enough to Alastor, even with the occasional slipped up, learning quickly where to tread and where to back down. The Radio demon is insane, but he is surprisingly much more lenient with people than he often let on, but not as much as he is with you.

Which quickly became a thorn that Angel uses to dug into his side. Old battle-worn Husk cannot wrap his head around the fact that you, of all people in Hell, somehow get back on Alastor good side and stays there for longer than anyone thought you could.

You are more than bearable, don’t get him wrong. Good at reading and picking up on certain cues to pleased people (more particularly, the fact Husk likes to be alone most of the time), and in spite of being just a tad bit too stubborn at times, is generally a polite and entertaining thing to have around. It would’ve made sense for Alastor to wants to keep you for fun, if not for how you two started out.

Having missing out on your first introduction, all he have to go off of is your debrief of it on the one day you want to try whiskey. You’d damn near spat it out, opting to just sit with some soda instead (he didn’t try to poke too much, you’re almost like a pop-up pirate at time). Husk figured you would earn the ire of the most egotistical man he’d ever known, considering how you loudly asked Charlie for Alastor's resume as a way to try and barred him from working here.

Of course, that didn’t work, both you and Vaggie are long-time victims of Charlie convincing puppy gaze, and Alastor secured him and Nifty a spot at the hotel. But Husk was extremely adamant it would put you on a black book with Alastor, still remembering how Alastor grip on his cane would tighten just a bit whenever you spoke up on the first day. And yet, you get to laugh about it.

“Yer just bein superstitious kitten. At this point ‘m pretty sure dude just got the hots for them, nothing big.” Angel fiddles with his phone on one set of hand, the other propping himself on the bar counter, holding a popsicle to his mouth. He wants to tell the spider that’s absolutely not how the word superstitious should be use, but he digressed. “We’ve been at this for days, if he gonna do something, we would’ve known.”

Husk scoffed, throwing the piece of cloth he’s been using to furiously wiping down a stain someone left on the counter over his shoulder.

“Yeah right, as if you can get your head out of your ass enough to see that.” He ignores Angel smirk, already knew where this can go if he let it, almost like a whisper, he spat. “I’m just saying, he ain’t the Radio demon for show. You lots know nothing about whatever he got planned in his shitty fucked up head.”

Forced contractor be damn, this bar is his pride and joy, or whatever’s left of it anyway.

At that, Angel sends his attitude right back, hand(s) flickering, “And I’m saying he’s head over heels. What? Ya wanna explain the fucker just- casually waltz up to them and kissin' their fucking hand as a morning greeting? Cus’ I’m calling bullshit. Nobody even doing that fucking thing anymore, and he’s doin’ it every chance he gets! Like, have you even seen them?!” Almost like a comedy setup, they both look over to the chattering at the top of the stairs.

Over the railing, you’re rushing off from Alastor’s side to catch up to Nifty, who’s desperately nagging you to come and help her with a spot she can’t dust off with a ladder, having long depleting the fun of falling off from it. And almost like instinct, he took your hand and planted a gentle peck, along with a well wish for your day.

You, with your other hand occupied and being dragged away too fast after the fact for you to formulate a real respond, simply perks up and laugh, waving at him before you fully give into the little bug-like demon and let her rushed the both of you to the other side of the hotel – Alastor stands and watch you fully disappearing behind a corner before turning his head and look directly at the pair. His mic sounding nothing except for a low drones of static.

Husk expertise kicking in, he looks straight ahead instead, wiping down the counter again just to be safe. Angel’s years of acting led him to immediately start talking about the latest project he’s involved in, popsicles stick held from his face. Husk can’t be too bothered by it this time, at least he’s reading the room. But even with their combined effort, it still doesn’t stop Alastor from manifested himself right by the bar, smiles almost pull taut, a too jolly “How is it going gentlemen?” and a request for a cup of moonshine, with a tune contorting just to sound much too whimsical for anyone else except him echoes from his microphone, and he’s off again.

“…y’know, you can just say you’re sorry for being wrong Whiskers~”

“Go fuck yourself.”

-----

Vaggie knows that no matter how much she tries to warn Charlie about the cannibal murderer in their own cozy hotel, her partner can and have constantly willed it away with loving words and cute beady eyes that she can’t fight against. Her loving and trusting nature always been the tried-and-true counter to Vaggie’s much more doubtful and skeptical side. Recalling the way you refer to it (two people working in harmony, balancing out each other’s nature, like a tango, a secret rhythm unknown to anyone but them), she smiles.

It dropped the moment she remembers the matter at hand, specifically, you, a friend that have grown dear to her heart, and the cannibal murderer she very much hated guts - growing close to yours. She’s not sure whether this qualifies for a tango when she’s dragging her feet and Charlie’s tap dancing.

Vaggie would’ve been glad you have virtually zero comment on the fact Alastor is getting close to you, and with her luck, purposefully ignoring it (what’s with you and dive bombing out of the conversation the moment the topic came up), if not for the fact Charlie is very insistent on letting you know all about it (=> conversation you have to dive out of). You and Vaggie traded favors all the time, exclusively about Charlie, who always try to bite off a bit more than she can chew.

Usually, you did a much better job on keeping Charlie from trouble than Vaggie actually can, having the heart she lacks to guilt her partner into keeping still or stop her from running into red light traffic. Yet a pattern emerges soon after this deal started that you three all pick up on, much to Charlie’s delight.

Somehow, some way, Charlie aged old puppy dog eyes are much, much more effective when the both of you are right next to each other. Alone, while Vaggie can’t turn her down, you can and have consistently do so. But together, you both would turn to each other, and you either would give into Charlie first, or wash your hand completely from the whole situation altogether, both decisions are equally awful, and often left Vaggie alone on the line of defense.

Like that time you asked for the Radio demon resume, being extremely firm on his demeanor being horrible for customer service and how unfit it would be for a hotel to house someone who clearly doesn’t want to help or be help. Vaggie remember the chills running up her spine as you stand firmly in the face of the greatest mystery to Hell even after all this time and not even batting an eye to his straining words or the implications of it. Even going so far as to point out that he’s a liability and can’t keep himself straight for anything worth the hotel’s effort.

Only for Charlie to held onto your (and Vaggie’s) hand and tell you both she can do this. She remembers it took you not even 5 second to turn towards her with a wistful gaze, a smile pulls on your lips, and put a hand on her shoulder.

Aside from her first real injuries, it was the biggest betrayal she’d ever gone through.

Vaggie like to think it doesn’t sting so badly that her partner and her friend are now growing more used to the giant red flag stalking their halls. If not also for the fact she have to be in on your effort of stopping Charlie from bringing up a weird line of conversation while you still - albeit not fully of your own volition - feeding into her girlfriend delusion of being a matchmaker. It wouldn’t be so hard if you just, try to at least calm Charlie down yourself, but your tendencies to avoid particularly specific conversation makes her boomerang from appreciation to pure exasperation.

Especially when she would be fighting her love for Charlie to keep your dignity intact.

“But Vaggiee…!” clinging onto her left arm, Charlie tries her best to bring her girlfriend’s eyes back to her. “Just look at them! They’ve never looked at anyone like that!”

She would love to argued otherwise, you have a habit of looking at everyone like that, something with making people feel more welcome to talk to you. But all thought vanished from her head when she turns to try and make an argument, and for a brief moment she forgot what they were talking about. Charlie’s good at distracting her, but she steeled herself and stop Charlie from jumping off into this and making it so much harder on you than it already is.

(God, the things Vaggie’d do for love.)

“I know you really want to, hun, but - I’m just, not sure about this. It’s Alastor we’re talking about. I get them being into him or whatever, but you’d really set them up with the Radio demon? You know…”

Charlie was slowly wilting a bit, but picks herself up at the hesitation, thinking it’s her chance, she races over her words. “A thoughtful, charming and-“

But still can’t finish fast enough, and Vaggie have to advert her eyes, she can’t handle a sad Charlie that well. “and a horrible cannibalistic freak, Charlie. He’s not a good person.” At that, her girlfriend really clings onto her.

“Vaggie…this is a hotel for redemption! We've got to believe that people can change…” Charlie’s not addressing her point, there’s no real way to denying the fact Alastor is really just who he is. A rotten, rancid piece of meat. Redemption be dammed when he doesn’t even believe in it. “And! I have proof that Alastor likes them~” Pulling out little drawn post-it-notes from her front pocket, Charlie nearly doubled over while trying to put all of them onto the table in front of Vaggie, and you.

“I’m going to go back to my room.” You abruptly stand up, nervously grinning while shuffling out of their office. Having sat completely stilled while hoping that you can somehow divert the topic ever since the start of the conversation, you gave up. Completely disregarding Charlie’s attempt at making you stay. “It’s late, and I should’ve been in bed some hours ago…”

“Wait! I swear that this time I-“ Charlie tries to reach for you again, but Vaggie held strong. Nodding towards the exit, you mouthed her a quick thank you as you walked out, wishing them both good night while gently pushing the doors close. “I have the proof…”

“C’mon babe…” visibly deflating, Charlie sat herself back into Vaggie’s arms with a pout. She doesn’t have the heart to press this too deeply, so she pushed back her hair and give her a small peck on her eyelid, she always did have pretty eyes. “You know they’re not going to listen to you if you keep ambushing them like this.”

“I know, but I just- really love them both…” Vaggie raised an eyebrow at that. “And they seem so, nice together. Alastor always makes sure to greet them every day, they always wished him goodnight-“ she scoffed.

“They do that for everyone hun, and I’m pretty sure that bastard just do it because…well, who knows? He’s weird, who knows what he’s thinking…maybe he’s just trying to- toot his own horns playing nice. He does that a lot.”

When Charlie stays still, Vaggie really thought she could end this tonight, for both your sake and her’s. But then, as if was given water from the spring of life, with her back straight, she sat right up and held firmly onto Vaggie shoulders.

“But he’s trying so hard for them! Don’t you see how he’s spending so much time just hanging around them? Oh, and don’t forget that he asked them, specifically them, what they think of his radio show! He doesn’t do that for anyone else Vaggie! He brings them food when they forgot to eat. They told him about stuff they would’ve ever tell us without prompting! And you have to see the way he looks at them when they’re just, sit together and, and-“

“Woah. Slow down Char. Through your nose.” Even like this, she’s endearing. She held Charlie’s arm and bring her closer.

“You have to see Vaggie, he looks at them like…how you look at me!” Vaggie pauses. Charlie is getting to her, she have to stop her from talking or she’ll give in. She thinks about how miserable you would be sitting through an actual talk about this, it doesn’t help.

“And, you’re one of the most wonderful things that happens to me, Vaggie. I love everyone in the hotel, and I would give my everything for them,” knowing her, she would “but you.” She breathes, and Vaggie feels her breath stuck in her throat. “You are my everything. We’re perfect together. And I really love them, and I just thought…”

Charlie looked at her with such a soft and gentle look, her eyebrows slightly drawn together, lips jutting out just a little bit. “I thought he’s perfect for them, that they’ll be perfect together too. I know he’s not the best person, and you don’t trust him. You don't have to. But I think he’s doing his best for them, and they’re doing so much for him too...” their hands, held tightly together ��So please, trust me. I genuinely think this can work out. They deserve to be love like I did too.”

Vaggie tries so hard to held strong, opting to stay silent instead of replying and stoking the growing flame, but Charlie looks at her with her big shiny eyes, and she caved.

“…Alright… I guess he haven’t really…done anything to them yet…” before Charlie could jump up in joy, Vaggie tries to get her focus back “But if he touches a single hair on them- woah!”

Wrapped in her arms, Vaggie barely able to get out the full sentence as Charlie rambles on. “Oooh, thank you thank you thankyouthankyou I knew you’d understand! Oh there is so much I want to do too-“

“Charlie, bit too tight…”

“Oops! Sorry!”

Coming down from her high, she stares into her lover’s eye with the brightest grin possible. It takes everything in Vaggie to think about how disappointed you’ll be, so she closed her eye and takes a breath. “We have to let them sort it out themselves, though. No matchmaker.”

“But-”

“You know how closed off they can be. Give them time Charlie. They can find their own way home.” Like that, Charlie smiles a smile so bright and gentle, reserve only for Vaggie. “Like you and me?”

And all she can think is that this might not be that bad after all.

“Like you and me.”

----

“So...thissss is what the youth are…into?”

“Arguably, it’s somewhat better than what I have as a kid.”

Pentious squinted at the device in his hand, clawed hands carefully swipe through your ‘carefully curated feed’, whatever that means. You sat next to him on your balcony, various knick knacks on the side table he insisted you need, hands considerably less clawed holding a book you’ve never managed to get through past the 10th page, as you only ever try to read it when the moon is blue and you always ended up forgetting the previous pages, something he learned while he was helping with cleanups.

He’s flustered when you laugh at a joke without needing to look at the captions in the video, wanting to pretend he completely understood what just happened. It takes you a bit to calm down and explain to him what was so funny, it only serves to confused him further. You grin and handed your book over to Frank without putting a bookmark in first (who then immediately turns the page and started narrating half-way through to the other eggs), reaching for the phone.

“I’ll put on something a bit easier to get used to, is that ok with you?”

“But, aren’t we learning how to be ‘hip’?” you cackle, he tries not to shrink into himself.

“We can leave that for some other day i think, you don’t need to be hip or anything right now. And besides,” handing him your phone, he minded his claws, “I think you’re cool on your own.” You hum and turn to an open sketchbook on the table, picking up a pencil, you start to sketch one of the egg boiz running about your room.

Pentious nearly burst into tears, he should’ve known his friends (or, you) would’ve never made fun of him. Turning to your device again, his attention is immediately captured by a cat video.

You two stayed like that for what must’ve been an hour or two, occasionally checking up on what the other’s is doing. (he would show you the cutest video, you showed him your barely intelligible sketch. He feels like you’re sketching his nightmare he said, you’re flattered). With almost all of his eggies already tiring themselves out some time ago and gathered around both of your feet (and his tail), bundled up in your duvet and pillows. Except for egg boiz number 3, who’s in his lap as both are captured by a video of a dog getting a haircut (a mini-American shepherd, you chimed in happily that it’s one of your favorite video).

Then, the calm afternoon was broken by a singular knock to your door. You and your still cognizant companion(s) look up from your respective entertainment at hand and stare at each other. You glance over to him, head nodding towards the door, he shrugs, growing restless, you pat his shoulder as you stand up and walk away.

Pentious really did try to turn back and focus on the groomers narrating a particularly endearing moment in the nine minutes long video, but he can’t help but be on edge when a familiar voice sing a greeting too loud for him to ignore, and he realized just who is at the door, your door, his new best friend's door (verdict still out on whether you consider him as one).

Taking a peek, assuring to himself it’s to keep you safe, he locks eyes with red and half of his soul descend into the ring below, the other half turns him right back to your phone when the red starts to raise his eyebrows at him. He can keep you safe from a safe distance surely, but when he tries to hug the egg in his lap to comfort himself and feels nothing, he freezes. Horror-struck, he turns and look at you, specifically your back, the other half of his soul joins the first.

Without him realizing, number 3 already slipped out of his grasp and is now climbing on your shoulder and interjecting your conversation with the gentleman, who is now full-on glaring at him whenever your head slightly turn away. He gulped, but he still put your phone back onto the table and stand up, forget to mind his still sleeping minions at his tail. Thank Lucifer they decided to stay silent for once.

“I was just going to stay in tomorrow too… maybe- oh, Sir Pentious? What’s up?” You stare at him, easy-going as always. Almost like you’re unaware of the way Alastor is smiling at him. Pentious can only thank whoever is in charge of fate for the fact you slotted yourself right between them, and cursed them all the same for the fact you can’t covered up the demon’s face.

Clearing his throat, he tries to steered his nerves and curb his stuttering. “I see that someone have rudely interrupt our study session. May I have your permission to…”

At the sounds of radio static grows, his words in turns wilted as he stares into bright, glowing red and yellow growing in volume. Luckily, you manage to pick this up and covered for him. “Oh no don’t worry, Al was just asking when I’m free to hang out with.” As you turn to that same terrifying shade of red, it immediately transformed into a charming smile.

“Why, hangout is such a casual term dear. I prefer to call it a trip! Much more exciting that way.” With his usual theatrics delivery and a backing of voices coming from the microphone staff he uses to give you a gentle knock on the head, clashing with your much more casual tone brushing him off, Pentious wishes he can see this as endearing.

“Oh you’re trying to goat me into going back there again.” That wasn’t a question on your end. Alastor smiles in amusement, but it strained when number 3 chimes in and tries to asked you where is back there. He’s extremely grateful the demon chooses to ignore it, letting you entertain the egg instead.

“I do not know what you’re referring to at all.” Closing his eyes and leaning a bit to the side, the demon bounces a bit on the tip of his shoes and sings. “Otherwise, it seems my presence is making our welcomed guest uncomfortable.” Pentious tries to stand tall for you and number 3, but Alastor preference for getting up close and personal is mincing his confidence to bits. “I guess I will settle for an extra visit by tonight to talk a bit more about your hectic schedule, if that’s alright with you Ma chère?”

You laugh a bit and agrees with him, saying a quick sorry while he brushed it off with a smile, adjusting his coat’s flawless lapel with one hand, the other reaching for yours. Lifted up to his lips, he planted there a kiss with a look that can passed off as soft. Pentious looks away the moment their eyes lock again, whistling like he hasn’t been blanching at the two of you.

As you turn to close the door, he could’ve sworn red dials were looking at him in the seconds you look back to him, completely in contrast with the life-threatening aura now stand outside the door.

“Haha, sorry about that. I didn’t have time earlier and he was busy, so…” you trailed off, explanation offering him nothing but more questions. “I’ll try to be a bit more mindful about this next time, yeah? Didn’t know he still held something against you.”

You want to keep doing study sessions with him? He perks up a bit at the implication, while choosing to ignore the second part, until his egg started speaking.

“Uh, boss number two, why does Alastor kiss your hand so much?” Number 3 raises his hand, still sitting snugly in your arms. Pentious makes a note to make him sleep on the edge of the bed tonight. It doesn’t help that you’re leading them back to the others, who also started to chime in with their own questions. He can tell this time you’re getting a bit miffed, smiles growing a bit taut and looking off somewhere, unable to let them somehow ruin your goodwill towards him, he cracked. “SILENCE! Cease with your silly questions right now!”

You look at him, and he would’ve shrink into himself if not for how you seem more surprised than angry, as your brows relax and you smile a bit, he let himself breathe. “It’s alright, they’re cute, they can get away with a little questioning I think. And hm…” you bounce on your feet in a slightly familiar manner, he sweats a bit. “-I mean, it’s normal for friends to be close, so I don’t see any problem with it.”

“Oh…friends can kiss each other on the hand?” number 1 jump up. You laugh.

“Of course they can. Alastor loves getting into people’s space too, so I wouldn’t put it past him.”

He would’ve tried to say something and help you out with the questioning, but it hit him that at least in his time, the specific to the gesture was more of a formal greeting. But he takes into account the fact it's Alastor, and how whenever he sees you two together, the Radio demon always seemingly follows after your heels like a shadow tie too tightly, and he shivers. Anxiety fills his heart as he tries to navigate this thought.

“I do have to say, why is it that he tends to get so…closssse…to you?” You visibly stiffen at this, but as he takes your hand in his, trying his best to be tactful, still minding the claws, you stare. “Could it be…he’s trying to threaten you, dear friend?” he tries to recall how you comforts him in time of distress, and did his best to echoes the same sentiment to you.

“Whatever it is, you can share it to me! I will, uh- “

“You’ll duel him, right boss?”

his eggs chimes in where he falters, he follows their lead.

“Duel! Yesss! A duel to the death! That Radio bastard will regrets the day he-“ You squeeze his hand, and he drop his false bravado and let you seated him back on the balcony, letting number 3 dropped from his spot in your arms to the duvet covering the floor.

(with much less grace compared to you, but all the heart. he takes the fact you’re still around that he’s doing great.)

“We don’t need any of that silly. He’s my friend, I think.”

You fall back onto your seat, number 1 climb up to your lap with a question. “You two are friends? Like with boss?” sitting up, you sing an enthusiastic agreement while reaching for your notebook again. Pentious swore the sketch is looking more and more familiar by the line.

“Yeah, like with Sir Pentious! Al’s intimidating but he’s fun to hang around.” Hunching over while minding number 1 watching in your lap, your grin drops to something a bit kinder. He feels like he’s overstepping, despite the fact the room is void of anyone else. “He nice to talk with, I’ve never seen him shutting up on anyone else’s terms. That’s a good thing.” He wanted to say that’s a bit too barebone, even for himself, but then, turning to him with a smirk, you added. “Don’t tell him i said this, but he’s ssssuch a bitch sometimes. It’s fun though.”

Nodding with a much more serious look, Pentious takes your word as a command. “Not a word to my grave!”

“Hehe, that’s why you’re my favorite.”

Refocused on your sketch, you trust Pentious to be able to work your phone a bit better than before. He thinks he would’ve work it better if not for the tears gathering in his eyes, he takes the tissue paper you handed him without looking and wiped it away, only to panic about the long scratch he left on your screen. You laugh and assured him it’s fine, you can change the screen.

(verdict be dammed, you’re HIS best friend.)

(he took a peek at your sketch before you turn the page, and it hit him why it looks so off-putting. Antlers sprouting from two end on a figured too lanky to make out the physique of, but familiar enough all the same. He’d much prefer you go back to sketching his eggies, he said, you happily complied and he leave your room after with 5 torn note full of egg sketches and another schedule study session he pray you'll relay to Mister Alastor.)

---

“There you are darling! I was looking everywhere for you.” Calling out with joy, then stopping to take in the sight. He steadied you with one hand while you stop to catch your breath, nearly doubled into him. “I can see that you’re quite busy, seems like Nifty is giving you quite the run for your money huh!”

“Please…shut up…” you don’t need to look at him to know he’s enjoying this way more than you do, laughing at your utterly exhausted state. “I didn’t know there’s this much bugs in here… How can she even keep tracks of them??”

“Don’t feel too bad now, that one mind and health both are simply wonders to behold! Even I can’t keep up with her at times.” Trying to dust off your shoulders, he looked offended when you just swatted his hands away, waiting for an explanation.

“We’re not done yet, she’s just in the kitchen for a bit.” You pulled out your phone to check the time, Alastor squinting his eyes besides you, leaning over to keep watch and raising an eyebrow at the long scratch on the glass. “One hour before I’m free…”

“Thinking of giving up then~?”

“Yeah.”

Laughing at your tone, he takes your hand and twirl you, but not too much! Just enough daze you a bit. “Well darling, I would love to whisk you off with me for a trip downtown! I’m running low on good meat, and simply can’t afford to stained my coat while the tailor’s out of commission. But knowing you…” he’d look down-right sad if you let him. He can tell you try to keep your expression neutral, but your smile is growing to match his.

“No Al, an hour is-“

“An hour is an hour. Yes I know dear but it’s dreadfully boring without you.” Holding on still, he brings his face close to you, taking delight in the growing red on your face and you acting like nothing is out of the sort.

“You’ll survive Alastor. Nifty however…” As the sound of tiny footstep calling your name quickly approaching, he can’t help but letting a long, drawn-out sigh, backing off from you. A lost for him. You smile.

“Over here Nifty!” calling out to the little woman, you step away from Alastor to meet her half way, her stopping just before she hit your leg.

“You! I’ve been looking for you where have you been! I saw SOOOO many of them but they’re on the ceiling and I can’t reach them at all you've got to come help me – oh hiii Alastor!”

Nifty stops pulling you down the hall again just to give him a violent wave, dancing from one foot to the other and giving him time to catch up to you two, fully aware of your tradition from the moment it first started. Alastor smiles border on self-pleasing, gracious of Nifty’s effort to not drag you away just yet, less so the fact she would stares with such a wide grin. Nevertheless, he takes your hand again and bring it up, speaking all the while.

“Nifty, dearie, won’t you work our dear friend here a little less? I need them to-“ he pauses as you suddenly grip his hand and bring it up to your lips, too quick for him to stop you. And before he knew it, you both disappeared behind the corner yet again. Nifty voices and your cackle echoing down the empty hall way.

When he came back, aware of how the light flickering above his head now finally stabilizing itself, he laughs. Steadying himself, Alastor brushed off his coat and fix his monocle. Humming along with a love song slowly trickling from the microphone while walking the same way you and Nifty ran off to before. He have time to spare while waiting for you.

#alastor x reader #hazbin alastor x reader #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel oneshot #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin alastor #me writing this: i can do this in 2k #i wrote 4k in an afternoon and night and the rest is just me going back and forth like replaying in my head dialogue to checks how it sound #i need to draw more of him i need him carnally (he will splattered my guts on the floor)#that title could've actually been for a horror angst fic actually #one of these days i'll commit to writing an actual horror/yan fic im good at weird writing. maybe

349 notes · View notes

wickerwax · 5 months ago

Text

Down in the Mud (Codywan First Kiss Bingo 3)

The rainforest was both raining and foresting diligently. The slope they needed to climb was more of a complete vertical, and slick with wet leaf litter, ferny deadfall, and mud. It had been a long, stupid day, and was shaping up to be a longer, stupider night, and Cody was so tired.

First, the Chancellor’s “recommended” strategy - the one that General Kenobi had politely objected to, and been met with an uncomfortably smiling hostility that hadn’t been worth the pressing - had been almost comically short-sighted. The local inhabitants of this small tree-heavy moon in the back-end of nowhere-combat-significant were apparently on the fence about the Republic. Despite that lack of significance to the war-front (“Master Kenobi, are you suggesting that some members of the Republic are more important than others?”, ”...As Marshal Commander Cody correctly pointed out, there does need to be a strategic element to planning time-sensitive -”), demands had been made regarding a closed and private meeting that required the two of them (and only the two of them) to hike into the jungle to a remote location to negotiate. (Cody wasn’t prone to paranoia as such, but neither was he a stupid man, and even a stupid man would have considered something A Bit Odd by now.) Said locals had not showed at the meeting place.

Frankly, Cody had some doubts the locals existed at all.

Then the storm rolled in, petty with lightning, downright harassing with downpour, and just kind of an asshole with enough interference to knock out their comms.

And then the narrow little path rapidly turning to sludge had decided to take umbrage with being walked upon and sent both of them to the bottom of this ridiculous muddy slope where the stream was already looking as nastily-engorged as a Rodian leech.

Ruined his karking helmet against a tree on the way down. He’d refused the offer of his General’s robe, yanked the hood up over his head himself when the infuriating man seemed content to be rained on. They’d had a short, mostly non-verbal argument about who was most prepared to handle the current weather conditions and been left at an impasse to fume (Cody) and peer distractedly at the surroundings (Kenobi, somewhat uncharitably).

He sighed.

His comm hissed faintly with static.

General Kenobi turned from where he was studying the wet mass of mud and moss and slimy leaves, like there was any path less hazardous if only he frowned hard enough.

He had water dripping onto his nose from his hood. Cody wished he was miserable enough not to appreciate it. The last thing he needed to cap this day off was forgetting himself and where he stood with his superior officer - who even now was smiling ruefully at Cody. “It’s not looking good, I’m afraid, my friend. I hope you’ve a water ration saved, I don’t believe the sonics are going to prevail after this affair.”

“I feel reasonably confident that you’d share yours if I didn’t, sir.” he replied without thinking. Despite his flat voice, his General’s brows rose. Even with the hood shadowing his face, and the crap visibility, Cody could see his eyes twinkling. It was insufferable.

“Of course, Cody.” It shouldn’t have been possible for his voice to be both comfort and caress like that. “What’s mine is yours, you’re always welcome.”

Cody frowned harder.

“In any case, I think our best bet is this angle here – We should be able to step against the base of those root systems where they’re acting as stabilisers, and avoid the worst slips.” Kenobi pointed out his planned route and it – well, it didn’t look good. Good had been left behind on The Negotiator before they accepted this meeting. But it looked doable.

Halfway up, one boot lost to the sucking mud beneath the slimy dead-leaf carpet, Cody didn’t disagree with his previous assessment so much as add an asterisk amendment; It will be more miserable than you could have prepared for. He was missing at least two of his smaller plates, clawed off by aggressive vegetation, and his blacks had ripped somewhere around the small of his back. The thermostatic function had coughed out a pathetic little death rattle with it. Higher up the wind screamed, but down here it ripped past like the current of a river and brought the rain worming with it. He was starting to shiver.

General Kenobi wasn’t doing so much better. He had lost his robe to a nasty tangle of under-brush they couldn’t avoid, and had only barely escaped losing any further layers to the stars-be-damned combination of weather, visibility, and botany by what Cody assumed was some pinpoint – and, he gathered from the low, vicious stream of curses, difficult – application of his Force. Concentrating, his boots had slid on a mud-slick root, and Cody’s hair-trigger reflexes had caught him – but had knocked both of them several steps off of the not-track they were attempting to follow.

Cody squinted up at the dripping canopy, wishing for the night-filter on his helmet. He was all too aware of the warm hand steadying him, could all but feel the touch burning against the outside of his bicep.

“Cody, my dear – you’re shaking.”

Ah, well, maybe the infatuation wasn’t entirely to blame for once. “It’s a bit chilly, sir. Tiny hole in my blacks – it’s nothing. I’m fine.”

He nearly swayed when that warm hand was removed. Kenobi made a concerned noise and Cody had to grab for him before he could start pulling at his tunics. They stumbled back into the wet foliage-wall behind him – shaking hands having tugged too hard and tripped Kenobi into him. His hands were still circling his wrists when the greenery gave way.

Yelping, they fell through and hit moss and mud with an unpleasant squelch.

His head filled with noise as thunder cracked and rolled far above, and water crept into his hair and soaked into his blacks. His General was sprawled over his chest, silhouetted against the murky grey hole they’d fallen through. Cody’s fingers twitched around his wrists.

Kenobi lifted his head carefully and looked at him through the minimal light. “Commander, I can’t shift my weight properly without access to my hands.” he said, light and concerned.

Dim and distant lightning flashed. It flit through the layers of murk and tree and sheeting rain and lit Kenobi’s eyes silver at the backs. Perhaps a lesser man would find that unsettling. Cody, despite the ice making a home in his bones, tightened his grip instead of releasing it.

“Cody,” he sounded properly worried now. “You’re going to get colder lying on the ground like this.”

“I’ll move,” Cody said, “I just- In a moment.” His bootless foot felt like he’d replaced his toes with slush – regulation socks not built for this. His back was a creeping sheet of miserable damp.

“If you want to huddle for warmth, my dear, that’s very doable. But not with you in the mud like this, come now.” The Jedi sounded patient in the way that meant his eyes were all tight at the edges with stress. Cody loosed his fingers immediately.

“Sorry, sir.”

“Nothing to apologise for, my dear Commander. I am merely concerned for your well-being.” He levered himself off of Cody with a tidy sort of swiftness. Held his hand back out to assist. “Out of the mud now, there’s a lad.”

One hand gripping his General’s as he laboured upright, he scrabbled at his belt. Past his comm – hissing stopped entirely, ready light gone dim – and dug for one of his emergency glow-sticks. Cracked it against his thigh and let the pale green light seep into the – not a cave, not quite.

They were in a sort of root-bound nook – it looked like the soil had been especially rocky and the multitude of plant species had gone completely wild with their root systems to duracrete things in place – only some boulder or other had been dislodged, leaving a gap to fill up with the early-adaptor sort of growths.

It was almost tall enough to stand in. It was only about three arm lengths deep and irregular with it, which wasn’t huge but was perfectly able to fit the two of them huddled together - if they ducked heads, or crouched.

It was better than being face out in the rain. “Should we take shelter here?”

“Fantastic,” Obi-Wan replied, “Squatting in a muddy hole. This really is the mission that keeps on giving.” He went quiet, the green-glow shadow of him focused on the ground. “Ah, no, my mistake. It's quite moss-heavy, actually. There must be some sunlight in here regularly, Force knows how.” He dragged a hand over his face, then stared at it, looking dismayed. “Blast it all,” he hissed, “I’ve just gone and rubbed mud all through my beard, haven’t I.”

“In all fairness, General, we were already pretty much all mud already from that climb.” It was difficult not to do as the Jedi had mentioned earlier, and huddle into his warmth. Trying to control that urge, he instead was hit with a gut-rolling, full body shudder and began shivering in earnest. Kenobi’s attention was immediate and intense.

“Right. We can’t be standing all night long, that won’t do either of us any good. This moss is completely soaked, Cody, I don’t want you touching it any more than necessary-”

“I’ll just squat then, shall I?” Cody broke in sarcastically, narrowing avoiding bloodying his lip with the way his teeth were chattering. “I know the men call me thunder thighs, sir, but be reasonable.”

“In what world would I think that was an appropriate course of action, Commander," he said flatly. “No, I’m going to be your seat - my layers are still intact.”

Cody gaped at him. Thunder rolled again, just as distant, and the faint flash of lightning followed it. The green fell away in the face of it.

Rimed in silver, eyes gleaming, the Jedi's expression was set and determined.”"You’re the one with the ripped blacks, Cody, it’s a vulnerability - and besides, I have the Force to aide me. I will be the seat.” he repeated.

“I- Sir, that’s not-” Cody’s heart was thundering as much as the storm above was. It did not help with the shaking. “General.”

“There’s no use arguing, Commander, it’s just good resource allocation.”

“Resource-” Cody rasped, reeling. “Sir, you aren’t a resource.”

“Thank you, Cody, but I very much am, and you only have one boot. Neither of us want to keep walking in that mess until we have better light – and, with any luck, less active flooding occurring. So: sitting.”He wasn’t even looking at Cody anymore, was studying the uneven floor for the most strategic space to have Cody in his lap. For survival. While himself getting more and more wet because the moss in here was like a karking sponge.

“I’m going to at least take off my back plates then.” Cody fought the urge to pinch at the bridge of his nose. With the shivering, he’d probably just stab himself in the eye. He was about to be suffering enough. “It’ll be too uncomfortable otherwise, and you can put them down as some kind of layer between you and the ground.”

Kenobi was smiling audibly- now that he had his way, he thought grumpily. Like he’d let the man sit in an ice bath of moss just to keep Cody’s ass warmer - literally. “Just so, Commander. Thank you.” He paused, and Cody busied himself with his armour. “Do you need... assistance? With your back plates?”

It was possible. Shaking hands and all. “No, I have it.”

Semi-hunched in the enclosed space, it only took a few seconds to discover that Cody didn’t ‘have it’ as much as he’d like. His belt was manageable but the clasps slipped away from him. He bravely refrained from swearing, and shuffled around so his back was to the Jedi. Who, without making him ask, gently began unclasping it.

The immediate result was further chill – wet material no longer hidden by the armour and exposed to the air. Kenobi moved fast and neat, setting the main back plate down as a base, leaving him to remove the less awkward front bits on his own and stacking them tidily. He seemed entirely unperturbed as he folded himself down against the wall and motioned for Cody to sit.

He was all out of arguing. He’d take the mortification on this one. At least no-one was around to see it, and his- Kenobi wouldn’t be able to see his face.

Cody sank carefully into the cradle of his General’s crossed legs with his back pressed up against the Jedi’s front. He could feel his tunics and part of the smooth leather of his belt through his torn blacks, far warmer than his skin already. He tried not to squirm about it. It was not helped by the Jedi shifting to properly distribute his weight, his thighs flexing distractingly beneath Cody. “Ah,” he muttered against Cody’s shoulder, “One moment, this should help.”

He twisted and moved about while Cody tried to stay upright instead of leaning into him. Was this the worst possible way in which one of his fantasies could have come true? Yes, yes it was.

There was a satisfied “Got you,” behind him that made the shivering different, and worse. Next thing, the front of Kenobi’s tabards were being deftly arranged over his shoulders and down his chest – a damp, body-warm blanket tucking them close together. “Better?” came a murmur by his ear.

He made a low affirmative noise in his throat rather than speak. Nothing good could come of him opening his mouth right now.

Kenobi’s arms settled around his waist beneath the tabards and held without pressure. Warmth seeped back into him through his back and, despite his better judgement, Cody started to slump into him. The shivering lessened, and with it, his strength to avoid indulging. He snuggled back against his- the Jedi. His Jedi’s arms tightened.

“Better?” he asked again, quiet under the rush and roar of the weather outside. The emergency glow-stick had nearly faded out, a dull green touchstone near his feet.

“Better,” Cody agreed. “Sorry for - earlier assumptions. Not even assumptions, I guess, just. Snapping.”

“You have a temper very rarely, darling, and today has been a true comedy of errors. I can handle a little snapping. I know your experience of natborns hasn’t been one of whole-hearted support.”

He found his arms had naturally gravitated to covering Kenobi’s, fingers sliding together. “I know you though, sir. It wasn’t fair of me.”

He felt the huff of breath, warm on his neck. “Must we, Cody? Right now?”

“General?” he asked, prodding. His spine seemed to be in the process of moulding to his Jedi’s sternum. He adjusted his position slightly, getting a tiny, involuntary pant as his weight pressed back and down.

“Obi-Wan,” he replied, sounding vaguely frustrated. “Cody, a little -ah – care, if you please.”

Cody shifted fractionally again, and finally let his head drop back onto Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “If you insist,” he said. “I suppose the regs didn’t cover this one.”

“I don’t suppose they did.” His arms had tightened a bit while Cody was moving. It was becoming pleasantly warm where they were plastered together, even if Obi-Wan’s belt was too-hard in places. His toes were still thermally-challenged, so he tucked his socked-foot under his other knee.

The angle shifted him back again and Obi-Wan oof-ed. Cody turned his head and found himself face-first in his beard. “Sorry, si- Obi-Wan. Getting comfortable.”

Obi-Wan twitched. “No need to apologise, my dear. Just – please, stop moving.”

The green glow-stick had died out. There was the greyer shadow of where they had fallen through the vine-wall, the occasional glimmer of white from ever-more-distant lightning. For Cody, it was the darkness of Obi-Wan��s throat, the imagined sight of how red-gold threaded with silver would look from this close. He felt it bob with a swallow.

“Is the storm quieting, or am I imagining things?” Obi-Wan said, very quiet, so quiet he sounded like he was afraid to disturb Cody – like Cody’s weight pressing him into an armour plate and a muddy wall was fine, actually. Like Cody’s cheek pressed to the collar of his damp tunics was something he would choose.

Outside, the wind had dropped to a whimper. Trees rustled rather than crashed – the pit-pat dripping of water-logged plants instead of the active pattering of rain. A slightly too-fast heartbeat thrummed under his ear. “We might actually get to walk out of here.”

“I imagine we’ll meet search parties. Waxer wouldn’t wait any longer than overnight.” he didn’t raise his voice any but he tilted his head very slightly. Cody nuzzled in greedily. He felt Obi-Wan’s throat bob again.

“Waxer will rise to the occasion – he always does, that’s why I like him,” Cody answered, just as quiet. A tremor ran through Obi-Wan and Cody nestled further back immediately. Found that his belt wasn’t the only hard line pressing there anymore. He gripped Obi-Wan’s hands more firmly beneath the cover of the tabards and dared the tiniest roll of his hips.

Obi-Wan choked. “C-Cody-” His fingers flexed, twisting with his into his blacks.

“Obi-Wan,” he said, gentle, and thrilled at the second, more intense shudder. “Is this okay?” He waited for a moment, aware of the thudding pulse of the man behind him, the shallow too-quick breaths. “I’m all warmed up,” he continued, getting a thin wheeze, “I can move now, if you’d like.”

“Clarity.” Obi-Wan hissed. “Is that an offer, a suggestion, a threat? I can’t quite tell, Cody, given the grinding.”

“Exaggeration, sir – Obi-Wan. One little roll? Hardly counts as grinding. I could demonstra-” Cody tucked his face further in his neck, grinning, when Obi-Wan made a quietly furious noise to cut him off.

“Threats! Here I am, being at least a passing-grade sort of chair, and you-”

“The sort of chair, is exactly my point – are you the sort of chair that is okay with me like this?” Cody let a little of his insecurity into his voice, familiar with Obi-Wan’s style of derailment.

He deflated, and wiggled awkwardly against his back. Cody’s bulk didn’t allow him space to retreat, only pressed him harder against Cody. Both of them stifled groans. “It’s- Cody, I don’t wish to overstep.”

Cody sighed. Obi-Wan bit off a curse and dropped his head back against the wall. “Obi-Wan, if anyone is overstepping, it’s pretty obviously me.”

Obi-Wan clutched him around the middle and loudly breathed out. “No. No, you’re not. I’m just – surprised.”

“...so, I can keep going?”

“You may continue to wreak havoc on my self-control if you feel so inclined, my dear,” he chuckled, but he didn’t lift his head off the wall, nor manage to hide the strain in his voice. “I shall endure with enthusiasm.”

He considered his options. Rubbed his thumbs along Obi-Wan’s thoughtfully. “If I turned around, could you endure?”

“Depending on what you did next, likely not,” he replied dryly. “Am I to walk out of here with filthy leggings, Cody?”

“Your leggings are already filthy, what’s a bit more?” Cody said, pretending at reason.

“Other than the considerably more awkward placement? Nothing, I suppose. Do you want me to endure, Cody?” The hardness against his lower back was close enough to the tear in his blacks, he was tempted to slide down. But not more tempted than he was to turn around, and make both of them suffer. Still, it would be a long walk back.

“I want you to try.” He released one of Obi-Wan’s hands to reach back and weave his fingers into that thick copper hair. Nudged him into dropping his head forwards, and used the improved angle to trace a kiss over his cheekbone. Dried dirt flaked away under his lips. He shifted his grip, arched his neck, and brought their mouths together in a chaste, teasing kiss.

Obi-Wan’s lips parted against his, and his tongue flicked against Cody’s lip. He froze, then broke the kiss laughing. “Force, Cody, we’re filthy. Is that from my face?”

“It might be,” Cody said, grinning. “Is that a deal breaker?”

“It should be,” Obi-Wan told him, bringing his free hand up to frame Cody’s face in the dimness. “It really should be. But no, it’s not.”

“Good,” he said, and tugged him close again. “That wasn’t nearly enough of a taste.” He swallowed the next laugh, and the moan that followed. Let out his own gasp when Obi-Wan got his clever mouth on the line of his neck and made every nerve dance.

“Definitely demanding half your water ration,”Cody said breathlessly, twisting to give him more room.

“As I said, Cody,” Obi-Wan told him, doing something brilliant to the curve of his ear. “You’re always welcome.”

@codywanfirstkissbingo kiss three is dirty kiss, which unfortunately my little gremlin brain thought would be hilarious to take literally xD

#my writing #star wars #obi wan kenobi #commander cody #codywan #cwfkb2025 #click the title to go to the ao3 version ^^#sometimes you make a bad joke to yourself and then commit to the bit #maybe a lot of times if im honest this is not the first fic written for that reason #hope you have fun with it anyway <3

55 notes · View notes