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roommatesandwiches · 4 years

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Hoof and Paw

An old Alastor x Reader WIP I found that I thought would be good enough to post but can't be bothered to finish. I've lost interest to write for Hazbin (and pretty much Hazbin itself) but I am writing an Invader Zim fanfic series (it's a Reader-insert, of course) if any of you are interested. As always, it's on my Ao3 account, TwinklingMayViolets (EDIT: I changed my username. It's dinosaurus_maj now)

I know this blog has been sort of dead, but like I said in the tags of my first post this is just for HH wips and nothing else so it will be pretty inactive most of the time.

Some context for the following WIP: I imagined the reader character to be a wolf demon and an Overlord and there are some descriptions of that here. You knew Alastor when you were alive and had (still has) a massive crush. You didn't know about his life of crime.

---

There he is. Alastor. The one and only. You sigh as you stare through the window, your eyes never leaving the brown-haired man you have been pining over since you were alive. He says something and his colleagues laugh. You don't know what the joke was, but you know that if you heard it you'd laugh, too. Alastor just had that effect on people, with his constant, bright and cheery smile and likeable personality. His good looks also played in the factor of women falling all over him, not excluding you.

A strong wind blows over you, threatening to steal the parasol out of your hands and lifting the skirt of your dress. You huff to yourself, brushing some stray strands of hair out of your eyes. You adjust the grip of your gloved claws on your parasol that effectively hid your more inhuman appearance from the living. Your ears squirm uncomfortably and irritatedly underneath your hat. Look at yourself. You're a demon Overlord feared all throughout Hell, and yet here you are, swooning over some human in the living world. He wasn't just 'some human', though. "You hunt?" "Yes. What of it?" "Nothing. That's just... A rather unladylike thing to do." "Sewing and cooking is not considerably 'manly' either." You find yourself sighing at the memory, at a time long past. This was your punishment. You had missed your chance when you were alive, and now you'll never get one again. There's a chance that he might follow after you into Hell when he dies--whenever in Hell that'll be--and you've heard of friends, families and lovers reuniting in the afterlife, but you shouldn't bet on it. Sure, you've got the money to now, but you shouldn't. The café bell jingles, pulling you out of your thoughts. You turn away right as Alastor and the other men working at the radio station step out of the establishment, deep in a conversation you'd love to be a part of and once could've been. Shoot. Well, your time is almost up anyway. You better head to the rendezvous now before Lucifer makes on his own promise and leaves you stranded up here. Like Hell you're gonna lose all your hard-earned power and territory because you'd been staring too long at a man. Still... You had been hoping for more. It was merely wishful thinking, but you couldn't help it. Slipping a handkerchief out from your sleeve, you quietly drop it on the pavement and start walking. Please notice it, please notice it... "Excuse me, miss." Your ears almost knock your hat off your head when they prick up with excitement. You turn slowly, making sure to keep your head low and nose hidden behind your scarf. Your hat hides the rest of your pale face, but it shows just enough for your eyes to be able to meet his. They're just like how you remember them; striking ambers that steal your breath away and send your heart fluttering out of your chest. You never thought you'd ever see his bright, beaming smile directed at you again. In his hand he delicately holds the dropped handkerchief, offering it to you. "I believe this is yours?" His voice is like honey to your pointed hound's ears, sending your mouth curling into a smile on your face in a mirror of his own. "Yes, it is," you say, your voice embarrassingly soft and almost breathless. You reluctantly reach out, conscious of your clawed fingers hidden beneath your lace gloves. Without any incident, you accept the handkerchief and quietly release the breath you had been holding. "Thank you." Alastor gives you one last, wide smile that makes his eyes squint before rejoining his colleagues. You tear your eyes away before you can see him go. When Lucifer asks, you deny the tear that rolled down your cheek and tracked a dark trail on your pale skin. --- There's a purge going on all around Hell. It's not the yearly extermination, no. Another demon is going on a killing spree, and it's not like one Hell's ever seen, according to your allies that have been here for centuries and Lucifer himself, who's no doubt sitting with his wife and daughter in that fancy manor of theirs with buckets of popcorn as they watched the carnage unfold. You can't say that you're doing the same. You would've, if some of your allies hadn't gone ominously silent. Well, not exactly 'silent'. As soon as you lose contact with them, your radio would switch on and you'd hear their screams as this genocidal demon turned them inside out. You were impressed, but also on the defensive. Whoever this was obviously had some mad power if they can take down some of your long-standing allies and fellow Overlords. You'd love to run out there and face the challenge, but whatever rational thought and sanity you had left in your mind told you that that would be suicide. You didn't want to lose your territory as well along with your life. Besides, if this demon kept this up, they would become an Overlord in no time, and you could meet them then when they're not on a murderous rampage. So you're huddled in your bunker, cozied up in your chair with your wolves sitting around you as you cleaned your rifle. Your radio is playing the carnage from your coffee table and your puppies keep a good distance between it and them. You'd tried to mute it, because one could only listen to agonized screams and chaos for so long, but it wouldn't go any lower than it already was. This demon's power was rather interesting. What you found amusing was the jazz music playing as well as the bloodcurdling screaming. When this is all over, you'd love to exchange techniques and maybe form an alliance with him. He's quite the entertaining fellow. The demon is talking among the loud music and screaming. The other sounds are too loud for you to hear him clearly but you catch a few words now and then. He's cracking jokes in a chipper tone, as if he were simply having a grand old outing with some friends and not splitting heads and tearing out organs. There's a brief moment when the screaming stops, and you're able to hear him loudly and clearly. "We're all just having a clot of fun out here!" There's a squelch and a loud groan. "If any of my listeners would like to join, feel free to—" You don't hear the rest as his victim continues their pained screeching, which suddenly silences in the next minute. You don't really notice, though. Because this radio demon sounds strangely like Alastor. --- As many expected, the Radio Demon quickly rose in the ranks and is crowned the Overlord title overnight. You're envious of how quickly he's made a name for himself and yet you're intrigued. Just who was this fellow? How and why was he so powerful? You yourself had impressive power with the ability to create your hunting dogs, but it pales in comparison to what Alastor could do. Alastor. That's right, his name was Alastor, the same name as the man you had loved while in the living world. This may only be wishful thinking, but could he be your Alastor? The only way to find out was to meet him and see for yourself. That's why you're sitting in Lucifer's lounge this evening, awkwardly squeezed in the spacious room filled to the brim with demons. There are Hellborns and mortal souls alike present, some of them looking rather bitter at losing some good allies to a fresh manifestation. In celebration of the Radio Demon's beautiful mass-genocide and new title, Lucifer had arranged a gathering and invited all Overlords to give everyone a chance at forging an alliance with him—or to start a bloodbath, either is good. You had come just for the sake of meeting him and maybe exchange a few words, but you'd be lucky to even see him in this turn-out. You just might start the bloodbath now with how many times someone's stepped on your tail in the first hour already.

(Yeah, that's all. If you're curious: the Reader was supposed to see Alastor and not recognise him. You dance with him, and his voice sounds too much like the man you once knew. You both end up hitting it off and going out to either the balcony or just somewhere less packed to talk a bit. You ask him his name, you tell him yours, and after recounting some of your time in the living world you know for sure that this was your Alastor and he knows you. Idk what happens next, maybe he confesses that he has feelings for you and maybe you kiss or something. I think when writing this I hit the same problem as when I was writing Movie Night: I realised I had no idea how to write dialogue lol. Also, I think I wrote this while I was having ideas for part 2 of the Roommates series and abandoned this in favour of writing that.)

#reader-insert #alastor x reader #mentions of murder #mentions of gore #long post #fanfic #excerpt #writing #one-shot #wip #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #maj writes

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thrashton · 5 years

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soaring light (chapter two)

here we go!!!

Name: Soaring Light

Fandom: Skam france

Pairing: Lucas Lallemant/Eliott Demaury

Tags: assassin!au, falling in love, angst, hurt/comfort

Summary: Do not get attached, do not waste time, do not engage in any physical contact… The list of rules were long, but Lucas had never been the one to follow orders. In fact, he might have broken all of them in just a week, all because of the piercing blue eyes staring at him from the assignment in his hands, and the charming, mysterious boy they belonged to.

Chapter summary: Lucas decides a drunk, fun and most of all; care-free squad night is what he needs. Life decides that no, it really isn’t.

————

prologue and chapter one can be found at the soaring-light tag at my blog, just click on the tag on this post. tumblr don’t wanna show my post in the search tag if I put in links… and on ao3 with the username thetimeisnow)

Chapter two.

The music was way too loud. Lucas was already half drunk as he, Yann and Basile finally got to the bar. It was 9:24pm. He wasn’t very good at keeping times, after all.

Arthur had cancelled last second, saying he rather be home with his new girlfriend, who he was yet to introduce to them, but that was a whole other conversation Lucas would take with him when he was in the mood to discuss someone else’s love life; Arthur was never late with the dirty details.

He had put on his dark blue shirt, nicely folded the edges over his wrists. His hair was a mess like usual, but there was no point in trying to fix it because it never stayed the way he wanted, anyways. If he was going to meet the person of his dreams that night, they would have to accept him with his faulty hair, easy as that.

Yann tugged on his shirt, pointing towards the bar. Manon and Emma were standing leaned back against the counter, Mika nowhere to be seen. Probably stealing all attention on the dance floor, Lucas guessed. He was already half drunk and was seriously considered joining Mika after downing a few beers.

“Manon!” He yelled over the music and her head snapped up, a big grin spreading across her soft face. She was really, really pretty. Especially in the dark red top and the black, short skit she was wearing. “Looking pretty as ever.” He winked.

Manon rolled her eyes before pulling her into a quick hug. “Don’t act like you’re interested.”

He laughed, letting Yann and Basile pass him to say hello to the two ladies. Yann gave Emma the most awkward hug Lucas had seen in his life, but he decided not to mention it to keep some of Yann’s pride. It has been years since they broke up and both of them had gone through multiple partners, but the weird tension between them never seemed to really fade completely.

“Didn’t expect you to show up at all”, Emma raised her brows and gestured to the watch on her wrist.

“Sorry, got caught up in beer and Eliott Demuary”, Yann excused them and Lucas threw him a quick glare, his heart starting to pumping harder just by hearing his stupid name.

Lucas had, with no shame, asked everything he could think of regarding Eliott. Yann knew a lot, it turned out, what class he was in, who his friends were, what he did for a living (full time model, that asshole). Single, as what they could find putting their stalking skills together. A beautiful laugh, but Lucas didn’t say that out loud. Nor did he have to, because Yann glanced at him knowingly as Lucas clenched his jaw when Eliott started laughing in the interview they found on an extremely sketchy website. They didn’t find anything that gave Lucas a clue to why he was worth so much money, though.

“Eliott Demaury?” Manon raised her brows, “why?”

“You know him too?” Lucas sighed.

“Yeah, of course. Went to our school. Why are you searching him up?” The way she looked at him, Lucas knew she knew exactly why. Her brows were slightly furrowed and her lips pressed together hard. She didn’t look too happy.

“Reasons”, Lucas shrugged.

Manon pouted. “That’s unfair. He’s a good person.”

Lucas shrugged. “Lot of money.”

“Yeah, he’s definitely rich”, Basile agreed with a nod, clearly wanting to join the conversation. Even though the money Eliott had wasn’t what Lucas meant, Manon played along.

“I’m sure”, she said, “but whatever. Next round on me!”

She leaned over the counter, smiling brightly up at the bartender who couldn’t ignore her invite. Lucas was thinking beer, Manon was thinking shots. So in conclusion, shots were the next thing up on the table.

It slipped down easily, like always, and Lucas pulled a face. Manon wasn’t joking around. Disgustingly strong, but just what he needed. He had left the pills he used to drip into his victims drinks or food at home, only because he planned to get drunk enough to maybe accidentally drop them.

Two warm hands embraced his shoulders and Mika’s smiling face showed up on his right. “Lucas! My favorite! How are you?”

Lucas grinned at his past roommate, holding his beer in his direction. Mika took a sip. “I’m getting drunk, what’s better? You?”

“I’m dancing, and, wait- Gabriel!” A black haired guy snapped his head up.”Lucas, this is Gabriel, my love for tonight. Gabriel, this is Lucas, my fake brother.”

Lucas held out his hand and Gabriel shook it. “Hi”, he said.

“How nice to finally meet you”, Gabriel smiled back and Mika laughed, a high pitched sound that died out in the loud music. He grabbed Gabriel’s hand and they disappeared out on the dancefloor again.

Yann frowned. “Not even a greeting, I can’t believe this.”

“Probably didn’t recognize you, you never dress up”, Lucas pointed out.

Yann shoved a finger in his face. “At least I’m not that”, he pointed over at Basile who had somehow managed to get a seat between two cute brunettes.

“At least you’re not that”, Lucas agreed, a smirk playing on his lips, “Another shot?”

“The strongest you can afford.”

“Don’t try me”, Lucas warned him, because he would waste all his money considering the amount he was getting straight to his account.

The tattooed bartender met his eye and raised his brows in a question. “Four or six?” He asked. “Eight”, Lucas grinned and rained a smile in return.

The bartender leaned towards him. “Ten?” It was a challenge.

Lucas blew his cheeks up, “you trying to get us kicked out?”

The bartender winked at him. “I’m trying to get you to dance.” He had a playful tone and Lucas meant he was joking around wtih him.

“Eight”, he decided and the bartender nodded.

“Sure, sweetheart. Jacob”, he held his hand out and Lucas took it.

“Lucas.”

Jacob nodded and turned around to get a bottle from the top shelf. Next to them, Yann was watching him suspiciously. Lucas ignored him, and ignored every other hand in the air as people tried to get Jacob’s attention.

He placed two shot glasses on the table and filled them up to the top. “On the house”, he winked and gestured towards Yann to take the the one on the left.

“Cheers”, Yann held his glass out towards Lucas, who met him half way. “Cheers, buddy.”

The night was a success, least to say. Jacob continued flirting with him and they got drink after drink for free for the whole gang. Basile had joined them again as he noticed how the alcohol started to pour in. That was, apparently, more interesting than getting laid. Lucas understood him.

It was a bit over 12am when he decided he should probably find a bathroom. His vision was slightly blurry, but he managed without causing too much damage, dance between the packed dance floor. He reached the bathroom with a proud, sloppy grin on his face.

And stumbled over an empty glass on the floor.

Two strong hands grabbed Lucas’ upper arms, warmth spreading all across his body from the sudden, unexpected touch, and kept him from faceplanting right into the door. His heart was racing like a Ferarri as his brain went over the ugly bruise he would have had in the middle of his forehead if his mysterious saviour hadn’t been there. He glanced up to thank him, and was met by the same piercing, stupid eyes he’d been cussing over for the past hours.

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Fuck. What the fuck? Was his life a fucking Disney movie? What was this? What was Eliott Demaury doing here? What was he doing here holding Lucas? Holding Lucas? Lucas snapped his arms back, but he knew he was staring. He couldn’t help it.

Eliott watched him too, an amused look spreading across his face and Lucas realised he had to close his mouth before he started drooling, because Eliott wasn’t only way hotter than in reality than in the pictures, he smelled like fucking heaven too. Of course he did.

“I’ll take the staring as a compliment”, Eliott said, the amusement clear in his voice. His soft voice killed every other sound in the bad and Lucas wanted to hear it forever.

He also wanted to punch him. He wasn’t sure why.

“Uh”, he stammered, “I- uh. Yeah. Thanks. For saving me, you know, from, uh, yeah.” Wow, great, really smooth.

Eliott kept grinning at him. “No worries. Right place at the right time, I guess. I recognize you, have we met before?”

“No”, Lucas answered way too quickly.

Eliott tilted his head to the side, squinting his eyes and Lucas thought he was going to melt through the floor because, holy shit. Being watched by him this intensely sent electric shivers down his spine.

“Lucas?” Eliott asked and Lucas was gaping at him again. “Lallemant, right?”

It took Lucas a moment to come back down to reality again. He nodded slowly. “We went to the same school”, he said to not seem stupid.

“We did”, Eliott agreed with a slow nod, “thought you hadn’t met me before?”

Lucas wished he could just grab the amusement and take it out of his voice so he didn’t have to stand there weirdly embarrassed with himself. Thank god the dark lightning hid the blush creeping up on his cheeks.

“I haven’t”, Lucas insisted, suddenly forgetting everything about going to the toilet. The definition of a greek (but french) god was standing in front of him and his eyes would roll back in his head and give up if he even tried to walk away. “Maybe I’ve seen you.”

“I’ve seen you too.” Eliott smiled. Fuck, that was soft, the way his lips slightly curled up on each side. “You going in?” Eliott pointed at the bathroom door behind them.

Like he was reading his mind, Lucas thought. “No.”

“Then why are you at the toilets?”

“I- uh.” He had no good answer. “I don’t know.”

Eliott nodded again, moving a bit closer to Lucas as he let someone pass by behind him. “So, wasn’t the video good enough for you?”

Lucas frowned, his mind going over any possible option to what Eliott could have meant by that when- Instagram. “Oh. Shit. You saw that?” The disaster of accidentally liking his video. Twice.

The grin was back. Lucas clenched his jaw. “Of course, kind of charming, actually. Too bad you didn’t keep the like.”

“Why?”

“Having a cute guy like the only picture of me is good for my self confidence”. Eliott fucking winked.

Lucas stared at him. “You’re- okay.” He was going to kill this guy.

He was actually going to kill this guy, that wasn’t even a joke. Not even an exaggeration. He was going to fall down dead because of him. Never wake up again. Break thousands of hearts. Ruin a family. Holy fuck.

“I’m only okay?” His lip curved into a mocking smile.

Lucas panicked, stuttering out a stupid excuse that came to his mind. Only okay? Had this guy seen himself? “No, no- that’s not- you’re more than okay, I mean, uh, wow. I just meant-”

Eliott laughed, a beautiful sound that blocked the loud music from Lucas’ ears. “I’m messing with you. I really gotta go now, but if you feel for it, hit me up.” Eliott leaned forwards, face so close to Lucas’ he could feel his warm breath against his cheek and he realised that was probably how getting a stroke felt like. “Can I get your number?” Eliott held his phone out in front of them, screen unlocked for Lucas to write his number.

Lucas stared. For a long time. Eliott even started to look a little nervous. Then, his hands got the ability to move back again and he grabbed the phone from Eliotts hands, writing his private number even though every part of his brain yelled that this was the worst idea ever and he should absolutely not give Eliott his number.

He gave the phone back, and before Lucas could blink, Eliott disappeared into the dark crowd, none who had any idea what kind of feelings ran through Lucas’ body. He felt like he’d been hit by a train. What the hell just happened?

He didn’t go to the bathroom. Instead, he paced back through the room, to where he saw Yann and Manon staring in his direction. Great. Did they see that, whatever that mess was? He stopped in front of his closest friends like a child ready to get yelled at by his parents.

Sometimes, Lucas himself found it hard to believe how many people he had cold hearted, sneakily and without mistakes, killed.

“Eliott”, Yann said. No, he stated. It wasn’t a question.

“Really?” Manon raised her brows.

Lucas shrugged. He had no excuse. “I don’t know what happened.”

Manon watched him carefully and Lucas knew exactly what she was thinking about. He wasn’t allowed any physical interaction with his targets if it wasn’t absolutely necessary Lucas didn’t feel drunk anymore, he just felt tired. Exhausted.

Absolutely fucked.

#here we goo #skam france #skam #skam france fanfic #skam france fic #eliott demaury #lucas lallemant #soaring light

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